#everyone's just settled on the same thing and that is really disappointing :(

[sporkdoesclasspect]

it is wild to me how everyone seems to almost universally accept classpect inversion as an actual canon thing and not just a theory someone had??

[hypewinter]

At first he'd been overjoyed that the cloning had worked. Then, as the weeks went by, he realized just how messed up of a thing he had done. Tim still remembered the faces of everyone after he told them. There were mixes of shock, horror and disappointment. He'd been unable to face both Bruce and Clark for a while after that.

Now Tim sat in a rocking chair within the newly decorated nursery. He looked down at the baby in his lap, who returned his gaze with a blank one of his own.

He sighed as he turned to peer out the window. It was a full moon tonight. "They're mad at me, I know," he finally spoke. "I can't really blame them either. It wasn't fair to Conner. To his memory."

Tim turned to look at the baby once more. He stared into the baby's eyes. Those painfully familiar eyes that were at the same time new and foreign.

"It wasn't fair to you either."

Tim reached down and brushed a bang out of the baby's eyes. "But I swear I'm going to make it up," he continued. "Starting by giving you your own proper name."

Until now, that baby had been referred to as just that. Baby. If not that it was the clone, the child or Conner's clone. But now that Tim had firmly decided he was raising the baby, the kid needed a proper name.

"Hmm," Tim pondered. "What about.... Kevin?"

He received yet another blank look.

"Okay... how about Alex, Wes, Kyle? Timothy Jr?"

Blank stare.

"You could be Douglas. Doug for short."

At that the baby seemed to almost quirk up his eyebrow. As if to say, "Are you serious?" Though that was probably Tim's mind playing tricks on him.

"Yeah," he said with a soft chuckle. "I wasn't really feeling that one either."

Tim closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. "Mark, Luke, Ezekiel, Thomas, Elijah..." Great, now he was just listing off Bible names.

"Daniel..." he muttered absently.

Suddenly, Tim heard a giggle. He looked back down at the baby to see him cooing softly.

"Wait, you like that? Daniel?"

The baby giggled again. This time reaching up towards Tim. Hesitantly, he raised his hand towards the child. He couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped him as the child grabbed onto his pointer finger.

"Ok, Daniel it is."

Except for something still didn't feel right. Tim leaned back and stared at the ceiling as his tried to pinpoint the feeling of wrongness. Then it hit him. He hated whenever people used his full name. It always felt stuffy and formal. It reminded him too much of disappointed looks. Of hands gripping his shoulders or pulling at his ears, telling him to behave.

"Say," he murmured. "Mind if I give you a nickname buddy? How about Dan?"

Daniel scrunched up his eyebrows. "Ok ok, you don't like that one. I get it. Then how about Danny?"

Daniel seemed to appreciate that nickname a whole lot more as him went back to cooing contently. Tim couldn't help as a smile of his own crept onto his face. "It's settled then," he grinned, holding his child up in the air. "Welcome to the family Danny Drake-Wayne!"

He then pulled Danny close into an embrace, closing his eyes as he took in the scent of baby powder and formula. "I promise, you'll have a better childhood than either I or Kon did. I'll make sure of it."

Edit: original prompt for anyone interested

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[waitimcomingtoo]

SLUT!

chapter two: you must like me for me

series masterlist

You had settled into a sort of routine with Peter. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you meet up before chemistry and study together in the library. You’d become pretty good friends due to how often you saw each other but had yet to hang out outside of your study sessions. Now that it was mid September, Peter was eager to take your friendship to the next level.

“Good morning.” You greeted Peter as walked into the classroom one day and went straight to the seat beside him. A few of your classmates looked up at you as you passed and snickered, but you payed them no mind.

“Morning. I shared a Google doc with you so we could take notes together. I figured that might help you understand things better.”

“You did?” You asked and opened your laptop. You saw the shared doc and how Peter had already organized and highlighted a few things that you had been confused about during your last tutoring session. You stared at the notes for a minute and blinked in surprise over someone genuinely caring about your grades.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked you when he noticed you freeze.

“Sorry. I think I just fell in love with you.”

“It’s okay. It happens to me all the time, actually.” Peter replied with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, I bet.” You laughed, making him laugh as well. The professor started class and you took your notes together on the shared doc. Peter noticed you typing things and then deleting them to rewrite them the way Peter had shown you. He smiled to see you using his techniques and looked over at you proudly. When class ended, he was disappointed that your time together was ending as well.

“Do you have class now?” He asked you as he put his backpack on.

“Yeah. In the building next door.” You replied.

“I’ll walk you.” Peter offered, making you smile. As he walked you to your next class, your hands bumped against each others a few times. He never found the courage to take your hand, though you wished he did.

“See you Thursday?” Peter asked once you reached your next class.

“Actually, if you’re not too sick of me, I have a game tomorrow. It’s at 6 on the main field. You totally don’t have to go-“

“I’ll be there.” Peter said immediately.

“Really? You’ll come?”

“I get a free water bottle, don’t I?” Peter asked, making you smile.

“You do. I’ll even sign it for you.” You said with a coy smile.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” He replied and got a laugh from you.

“See you tomorrow, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before going into your class.

The next day, Peter was seated on the bleachers as the girls soccer team played in front of him. Peters eyes never left you and while he didn’t know much about soccer, he was impressed with how you played. But it didn’t take long for Peter to notice that no one ever passed the ball to you. When you did have the ball, you brought it up the field with ease before passing it over. But when you didn’t have the ball, it seemed like your team mates passed to everyone but you. Peter didn’t know if he should bring it up or not as you ran to him once the game ended.

“Hey. You made it.” You smiled and pulled Peter into a hug. Peter was surprised by the contact but welcomed it and hugged you back.

“Sorry. Sweaty.” You smiled in embarrassment as you pulled away.

“It’s okay. I was cold anyway.” Peter laughed shyly. Three of your teammates walked by and when they saw you talking to Peter, they looked at each other and laughed. Peter watched your smile fade as you took a step back from him.

“Hey guys. Are we doing anything after the game?” You asked them. They looked at each other again before faking smiles.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” One of the girls told you.

“Okay. See you at practice, then.” You said and waved to them. The girls didn’t wave back and walked off together. You and Peter walked them them meet up with some more of your teammates in the parking lot and get in the same car. Your smile faded completely as Peter looked at you sympathetically. You looked at Peter to see if he noticed and felt embarrassed when you realized he had.

“Yeah. I kinda knew that was coming.” You laughed sadly to break the awkward silence that had settled.

“Are you guys not friends?” Peter asked quietly.

“We were at first. But everyone thinks I hooked up with Gwen’s boyfriend right after they broke up. Which isn’t true, but hey, why believe me? Her boyfriend said it happened and whatever the jocks say is true apparently.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“Wait, so Gwen forgave her boyfriend for hooking up with you but didn’t forgive you?” Peter asked.

“Funny how that works, isn’t it?” You smiled sadly. “I knew Gwen two years before she started dating him but none of that mattered. They all believed him over me and rumor ruined our friendship.”

Peter stayed silent as you watched your teammates drive away while music blasted from inside the car. You eyes slowly lowered to the ground and you wiped your face before throwing on a smile.

“They’re not bad people. If I thought a girl went for my boyfriend right after he broke up with me, I wouldn’t like her either. And I definitely wouldn’t want my friends talking to her.”

“Still. It sucks that they exclude you for something you didn’t even do.” Peter replied. You looked and him and smiled at him for understanding.

“Yeah. It does suck.” You agreed. “Thanks for coming to watch me play, Peter.”

“Of course. I had a good time. Even though I don’t get the rules and really wanted you guys to just pick the ball up and throw it sometimes.”

“Well, if you want, I could explain the rules over some ice cream.”

“I would love that.” Peter smiled and extended his arm. You smiled back and linked your arm through his. You brought him to your car and drove to a nearby ice cream shop. You paid for Peters ice cream and winked at him as you handed over your card. He laughed and felt his face turn red.

“Thank you. But the boy is supposed to pay, by the way.” Peter said as you took seats in a corner booth.

“I love that you call yourself a “boy” and never a “man”. It’s cute. And this is my way of thanking you for tutoring me. And for showing up to my game.” You said as you ate a spoonful of your ice cream. Peter blushed at the compliment and cleared his throat to cover it up.

“Well you’re very welcome. I’m happy to do both of those things.” Peter replied. You exchanged smiles with each other which prompted you to scoot closer to Peter.

“So how’d you get so good at chemistry?” You asked him.

“I had a lot of time to study in high school. A lack of friends and romantic prospects really frees up your schedule.” Peter answered.

“You’ve been friends with Ned since high school, right?”

“I have. How’d you know that?”

“I stalked Ned’s Instagram. And was very disappointed to find out you don’t have one. But not as disappointed as I am that you don’t wear those little circle glasses anymore.” You said pointedly.

“Oh God. He has pictures of those up?” Peter cringed.

“Many. And why the face? You looked so cute with your little Harry Potter glasses.” You said and playfully smacked his arm.

“They were not my best look. Although, I don’t think I’ve had my best look yet.”

“You have. It was that white T shirt you wore the first day of school. You made it very hard to pay attention to the syllabus that day.” You replied, making Peter blush once again.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He said quietly. “I liked that black skirt you wore last Tuesday.”

“Did you now?” You raised an eyebrow as you ate another spoonful of ice cream.

“Mhm. Very much so.” He admitted.

“I guess I’ll have to wear it more often.” You replied, and it almost sounded like you were flirting.

“I’d appreciate that. And I think so would everyone who gets to see you that day.” He said in response. You laughed and moved in a little more so that your knees were touching. Once you finished up your ice cream, you drove back to campus and pulled up in front of Peters dorm.

“So, same time in the library tomorrow?” You asked him.

“Yep. I’ll be there.”

“Cool. Goodnight, Peter.” You said with a soft smile.

“Goodnight.” He replied, but didn’t move. He had every intention of kissing you goodnight, just without any of the courage to do so. You were looking at him expectingly, almost like you knew what he was thinking about. Peter leaned in a little, then opened the car door and got out. You waved to him before pulling off and hoped he couldn’t tell you were disappointed.

Your disappointment didn’t last long as you still got to see Peter the next day. You walked into the library and found him sitting at your usually table. As soon as Peter saw you, he noticed you were wearing the black skirt he had just revealed he liked on you.

“Nice skirt.” He smirked as you sat down.

“This old thing?” You asked innocently. He had been worried you were upset with him for not kissing you last night since you didn’t text him like you usually did after hanging out. But seeing you wear the skirt he told you he liked put him at ease.

“Here. I graded your practice test.” He said and handed you a practice test he had given you earlier in the week.

“Holy shit. I really got an 89?” You asked him with a surprised smile.

“You did.” He said proudly. “I told you, once you get the hang of covalent bonds, they get a lot easier to do. The only part that’s still tripping you up is the acids and bases section. But I made you a new study guide that should help you get it down before the test next week. So don’t worry. I’ll get you up to a 90.”

“Peter, I was pulling 60s and 70s before I met you. I’m not worried at all. You’re a seriously great tutor. I can’t thank you enough.” You smiled and put your hand over his. Peter gulped and looked down at your hands before snapping out of it to play it cool.

“I’m only a good tutor because you’re a good student. You obviously want to do well and try your hardest. Sometimes it just takes someone explaining something in a different way.”

“Well no one’s ever taken the time to explain it to me like this. So I appreciate you.” You said and squeezed his hand. Peter felt his face warm up and knew you could tell.

“Well, you’re very welcome.” He said and put his hand over yours. You took this as a challenge and put your other hand on top of his, but he just did the same. You moved your thumb and rested it on top of his hand before giving him a look. Peter just put his thumb on top of yours and you had no moves left.

“You win.” You chuckled and pulled your hands away. Peter did too and felt his blush spread all the way to the tips of his ears. You cleared your throat suddenly and looked at him.

“So, uh, I was thinking.” You began and Peter could sense that you were nervous.

“About what?”

“Maybe instead of doing work tomorrow, we can get food instead.”

“Okay.” Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

“Like a date.” You added, making Peter raise his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“If that’s okay.” You quickly added.

“You know, I really don’t like going on dates with pretty girls. It’s just a thing of mine.” Peter replied, making you smile.

“Oh no. How unfortunate for me.”

“I know, I know. That’s what all the girls say.” Peter sighed. “But lucky for you, I’m willing to make an exception. Just this once.”

“You’re cute.” You chuckled and Peter felt his face heat up.

“I aim to please.”

“You do.” You told him, making his blush deeper.

“I’m glad you asked me because I’ve been wanting to ask you on a date since we met but I’m kinda a shy guy.” Peter admitted.

“Lucky for you, I always play as Shy Guy in Mario Kart.” You flirted. Peter grinned at the flirtation but it quickly faded when he realized something.

“Wait, you can’t play as Shy Guy in Mario Kart. He just throws cannonballs at you while you race.”

“Clearly you haven’t played any of the games past Mario Kart 7 because I literally play as him all the time.” You said with a playful scoff.

Before Peter could answer, you heard a wolf whistle as the library door opened. You looked over your shoulder and saw Flash Thompson and Harry Osborn looking at you with shit-eating grins. You quickly turned around and Peter watched your eyes fill with panic.

“Uh oh. Looks like Y/n has a new study buddy.” Harry said loudly, earning looks from other students in the library.

“Please, no.” You groaned and started to pack up your books.

“Do you know those guys?” Peter whispered to you.

“Oh, shit.” Flash laughed obnoxiously. “You’re with this guy again? Brad said he saw you with some dork but I didn’t believe it. Since when do you do repeats? I thought you liked to hit it and quit it.”

“Hey Y/n, I could tutor you too if you have some free time. We can talk about payment later.” Harry said and nudged Flash.

“We all know her favorite way to pay.” Flash added, making them both crack up laughing. You rolled your eyes and picked up your bag, prompting Peter do do the same.

“Aw, you’re leaving? I was just gonna offer that Flash and I tutor you together. Have you ever had two guys tutor you at once?” Harry asked and burst out laughing again. The librarian harshly shushed them but they didn’t stop.

“I bet she has. I bet she does that all the time.” Flash said and you and Peter walked towards the library door. You froze when you heard this and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ll be right back.” You smiled tightly at Peter before walking over to Flash and Harry.

“Yes?” Harry said innocently.

“That’s enough.” You stated. “You need to stop.”

“Why? You don’t want lover boy finding out what a whore you are? He probably already knows. Everyone knows.” Harry said and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Because you and your moronic teammates spread lies about me.” You replied.

“The only one spreading anything is you.” Flash stated.

“Yeah. Your legs.” Harry added.

“Yeah, I got that, dipshit.“ You scoffed, making Harry gulp in embarrassment.

“Whatever.” Harry scoffed. “Who cares what you say? You’re just a stupid slut.”

You felt tears threaten to spill over your eyes when he used that word. It was the brick they always threw at you, but it hurt just the same every time. You felt dirty every time they called you that and no amount of telling yourself it wasn’t true made you feel clean. Every time one of those stupid boys called you a slut, you felt like they were erasing your name and pinning a scarlet letter in its place. It enveloped you and pushed you out of yourself so all you had ever done and all you’d ever be was a slut.

“Hey, are you guys really offering your tutoring services?” Peter asked as he appeared at your side. You blinked a few times in surprise and looked over at Peter. Harry and Flash exchanged a look before looking back at Peter.

“We might be.” Harry snorted and gave Flash a look.

“That’s really cool. I didn’t know the school let students on academic probation tutor others.” Peter said with such genuine enthusiasm you had you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Flash asked and stepped up to Peter.

“Oh, I just thought you weren’t allowed to play until you got your gpa above a 2.5?” Peter asked and tilted his head to the side. You smiled in surprise as you watched a Peter fight back with a weapon you never thought to use: passive aggression.

“What did you just say to me?” Harry asked and pushed Peter back a little. Before it could escalate, the librarian stepped between you.

“Boys. Out. Now. Don’t make me tell your coach.” The librarian said and pointed towards the door. Harry and Flash shot you a look but knew there was nothing more they could do.

“Whatever. Freaks.” Flash mumbled and headed towards the door. Harry went with him and bumped your shoulder.

“Slut.” He mumbled in your ear.

“Premature balding.” You whispered back. Harry looked genuinely offended and touched the back of his head.

“Uh uh. I meant the hairline.” You told him a before taking Peters arm and leaving the library. You walked far away from the library and ended up on a bench far away from any other students.

“Sorry about that.” You said as the two of you sat down.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly surprised those guys even knew where the library was.” Peter replied. You laughed, but Peter could tell you were deeply hurt over what had happened.

“They’re not true, you know.” You said quietly. Peter looked at you but you were staring at your fingers as you picked at your nail polish to seem busy.

“What isn’t?”

“All those things people say about me. Its not true. I’m not all bad like my reputation.” You said and finally looked at him.

“I never believed it. I like to see things for myself.” Peter told you, making you smile softly.

“So do I.”

“I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far.” Peter added, causing your smile to grow. You looked into his eyes for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him. Once Peters initial shock wore off, he cupped your face and kissed you back. The moment was hidden from the rest of the world and only existed between the two of you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like a slate wiped clean. More importantly, you felt like you again. You pulled out of the kiss after a minute and exchanged shy smiles.

“So have I.” You told him.

“What?” He asked.

“Oh, sorry. I was referring to what you said before. You said you liked what you’ve seen so far. And so have I.”

“Ohhhh. I honestly totally forgot about that. My mind went completely blank during the kiss. It was like that memory wipe thing in Men in Black.” Peter said quickly and realized he was rambling. You laughed and his awkwardness and rested your head on his shoulder.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’d hate if I make things worse for you by being seen together.” Peter admitted. You knew he was right and that it would be bad for your brand to be seen with a boy, but in that moment, you didn’t care what anyone had to say about you. Despite the fact that anyone in the school would say otherwise, you had just been kissed for the first time. Nothing was gonna ruin the moment for you.

“Don’t worry about it.” You told him. “I’ll pay the price. You won’t.”

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx

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@tom-hollands-wifey @alltoogay @bellajg21

@madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 16

Summary: Class has ended and you’re ready to eat for lunch, but everyone has stopped at the door. Turns out Malleus was there, and he craves affection.

(Wanted to write about kisses. And then Malleus popped into my head. So here you go!)

“Um, hey, Prefect?” Oh, well would you look at that, it’s Deuce speaking up this time, “Can I… copy your notes again? Please?”

“Yeah, I really couldn’t pay attention,” Grim tapped his paws on your desk, like that’ll somehow endear you to him, “besides, the board is so far away.”

You and your group are two seats away from said board.

“Yeah, come on,” Ace laid an arm across the back of your seat, “do us a solid, yeah? You know you want to. Can’t resist the call of enlightening our tiny little brains.”

“What are you gonna give me?” You closed your notebook just so Ace and Deuce don’t have a chance to look at your notes. “I’ve been saving your asses for the past two weeks. You gotta give me something.”

“Hehe, that’s my minion! If you want a fast pass, you need to give us reparations in tuna!” He cheered, once more using ‘we’ as soon as he thinks he’s getting something.

“You have to pay too, Cat.”

There will be no ‘we’ this time.

“What?! Why?!”

You tried tutoring them in the past but having Ace, Deuce and Grim all in the same room for more than ten minutes always leads to either an argument breaking out, a bunch of whining, or just general chaos because one or more people tried to slip out of trouble.

Yeah, yeah it’s partially your fault for losing patience and just giving up on them, but you’d think they’d at least pay attention long enough to take notes.

They’re right there! On the board!

They have no excuse and they have to at least pay you back for this emotional trouble.

Was this petty? Yes, very. You don’t care right now. You want a treat. Or money. Or both!

“Huh, ah, well,” Deuce got sheepish and reached into his pockets, “I have gum.”

“No.” He has disappointed you. An unworthy treat for your notes.

“How about I only eat three-fourths of your food this time?” Suggested Grim.

“My treat is me giving you more of my food?” And you don’t even give it, he just steals it!

Grim hissed. He was probably hoping you didn’t know fractions. But, good on him for finally learning. Shame his first thought was to try and trick you with it.

“Okay guys, you all know that’s not what the Prefect really wants,” Ace leans in, acting chummy, “how about this?”

You were given one thaumark.

“…”

“Alright listen, I need the rest to buy other things, okay?”

You got up after calmly putting your notes away. “I’m going to get lunch.”

“No wait come back!”

But, as much as you wanted to walk out and sit at the regular table while your friends slowly fill in the seats, the exit to the classroom was blocked by a cluster of murmuring and rather nervous students.

“What’s he doing here?” You heard one whisper.

“Uh, did we do something? Were we too loud?”

“I’m really hungry but…”

You are not in the mood. You tried to excuse yourself as you bumped into shoulders but you had to settle for grumbled apologies instead as you shoved yourself through.

Finally, you popped out of the other side, a little more heated and more irritable.

“There you are, Child of Man,” so goes the voice of Malleus, who stood to the side of the door, waiting. The cause of this blockage, students frozen with only his green-eyed stare. “I was kept waiting quite a while. How bold of you to do this, after the slight you made this morning.”

What?

“Wha?” Your annoyance was momentarily replaced by bafflement, but that quickly went away when your brain caught up to his words. You grumbled, “Oh, come on…”

Yeah, you’re probably not even gonna eat at the cafeteria. You’re just gonna get your food and go hide away somewhere until you cooled down.

Malleus walked forward, the surge of students all taking a collective step back as though his very air could potentially kill them.

“Well? Don’t you remember?” He crossed his arms and you were ready for that high-brow glare that comes with all people of royalty, but instead, you found an exaggerated and childish pout. “You forgot to give me my morning greeting. I felt off the entire morning, unable to focus, because I didn’t have the memory of you kissing my brow fresh in my mind.”

A hush fell over the classroom.

And then a, “Huh?!” shot out of Ace’s mouth.

You snorted, then gave out a hearty chuckle. Once you calmed down, you waved Malleus over.

“Alright, alright, get over here. Let me correct that.”

A laugh rumbled low in his throat as he tilted his head into your hand. Playfully, you lightly pinched his ear, just because his pointy ears always caught your attention. He twitched, breath hitching just the slightest bit, and you couldn’t resist the urge anymore and kissed above his brow.

Malleus’s lashes fluttered open and the sigh that escaped him reminded you of a pure-hearted maiden with a fast-beating heart. And yet, there’s nothing delicate about the way he stood. If anything, the affection flowing through him made his pride more apparent. He practically glowed with that royal grace he was taught to have.

You couldn’t help yourself. You gave him an extra kiss on the corner of his lips. Malleus nearly hissed in a breath as he clamped his hand over your own, his body leaning in closer towards yours, as though he wanted to meld with you.

But, with a chuckle, you pulled away and he had no choice but to let go. Malleus was back to pouting, though this time, cheeks flushed and hair slightly messier than usual. The air around you was slightly charged with wayward magic, causing the hair on your body to stand on end. And his eyes…

Well, whoops.

“Good morning. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Better get out of here before Malleus jumps you right in this hallway.

[merakiui]

psssssssssst which twst boy would probably buy onlyfans from sex worker darling trying to make some money for the week?

All of them. <3 and they all think they’re so unique for supporting you through this means, but it turns out everyone else is subscribed to the highest tier (or whichever tier they’re able to afford). Suddenly Ace is very dedicated to his part-time job as he works to make enough for the highest tier. Even students like Jack buy from you, but it’s only to support you (not salivate over the content you’re putting out… that’s definitely part of it).

Of course Azul has to get the highest tier, as do most of the Housewardens as they firmly believe they’re entitled to the best of the best. And it also supports you much more than the lower tiers! Because Azul is so charitable, he’s even willing to send you more money (please notice him). Vil loves to admire these risqué and intimate photos, as does Rook. Sometimes it’s not even for sexual purposes. They just find you to be the sweetest work of art they’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Idia claims he’s only subscribing so he can get top-tier references for when he’s drawing or practicing lewd anatomy. This is partially true, actually, because he does indeed practice. But then all of his sketches are of you. <3

Riddle had to convince himself over and over that this was okay. He’s not breaking any rules. In fact, buying the highest tier actually helps you! So he’s just doing what any good person and dependable Housewarden would do: support those who require assistance. He spends the entire week feeling guilty and avoiding looking at the photos/videos because he feels like he’s being a gross pervert. But you willingly put this content out there for him and others, and it’s all in accordance with the site’s rules! So… it’s fine if he masturbates to the sight of your nudity.

Floyd has so much fun waiting for the new photos and videos you’ll upload. You always do something different and it keeps him endlessly entertained. Sometimes you even take requests from your subscribers! He wants to see you do all sorts of exciting things. Jade’s much the same, but somehow Floyd’s requests seem so softcore compared to the things Jade wants from you. ^^;;;;

Ruggie buys the highest tier using Leona’s card. Leona did say he could get something for himself, and he never put any restrictions on what could or couldn’t be bought. <3 no wonder why this is the highest tier. The things you put out really are worthy of being in this tier, and he makes sure to save each and every one should a day come when he’s not able to look anymore.

Speaking of Leona, he thinks it’s impressive you’re able to keep up with all of the tiers you have and do something new every time. He won’t settle for anything less than the highest, and he enjoys the things you do for that tier. You never disappoint. Although pictures and videos are only good fantasy fuel. They can’t compare to the real thing. Perhaps he won’t have to wait any longer to meet you in person when you start doing meet-ups with one lucky subscriber from the highest tier.

Malleus doesn’t know how to work lots of technology, so he probably seeks someone out to show him how it’s done. He doesn’t see any shame in it. This is essentially artwork, is it not? The things you do can be appreciated in a unique, romantic light when you’re Malleus Draconia. Either that, or Lilia buys it. And of course if waka-sama has it, then Sebek must as well. He thinks he’s so much better than Silver because he’s subscribed to the highest tier just like his lord and Lilia, and what is Silver? Nothing! Sebek looks ready to crumble into dust when Silver reveals he’s always been subscribed to you from the very beginning. T_T

Kalim most definitely buys the highest tier! He’s probably your most generous subscriber (sorry, Azul). He’s always ready to send you hefty donations. He’s very sweet about it. Jamil would manage his absurd spending habits, but he’s also quite attracted to the types of things you’re posting for your highest tier, and Kalim’s basically funding it. Those shibari and collar posts reeled him in and have since dug their claws into him. He’s down bad…

Omg and Cater!!! He was probably one of the first out of the twst cast to buy your onlyfans. He’s a very loyal subscriber. <3 Cater gets bragging rights because he’s your mutual on Magicam and sometimes the two of you chat. You might even send him a few photos that can’t be seen on any of your tiers yet… a special privilege for your favorite moot. :)

[aetheternity]

Fucking & Fighting

Synopsis: Play fighting with your archon boyfriend is something you should always assess the consequences of before doing.

A/N: Ok so if you're following me and you see this you'll know where it's from but for everyone else here's the post that gave me the idea to write this. (Yeah I write too much Venti smut what do you want from me??)

Disclaimer: This is afab reader x Venti. MDNI. brief mentions of being rough in this work.

"Windblume~" Venti's spirited voice echoed down the hall until it found your ears. You hear the call of your partner again followed by the faint sound of a door opening then immediately shutting quickly after.

You weren't exactly hiding. Of course not, you'd never hide from Venti. But the sound of his voice getting closer made your stomach churn with a sort of anticipation.

"Are you.. here??" Followed instantly by a disappointed sigh. A new door, only a couple feet away soon being shut as well.

It was pretty understandable. All the rooms in the mansion looked alike and it seemed Venti's elder brain had its moments of disorientation. His footsteps trekked ever closer and when he stopped in front of your door, you found yourself tugging the blankets up over your head. And yeah this wasn't something you did often. In fact you found yourself taking a back seat to reassess for a moment. But things had already fallen into motion by this point.

The familiar creak of your door welcomed a singsongy and oh giggly tune of, "Windblume~" followed by a faint noise of surprise. Affirming blink perhaps maybe even another gesture you couldn't quite see with this blanket on top of you. A click of the door's confirming shut ringing across the completely silent room.

A chuckle, then an overly dramatized sigh and, "Oh where oh where might my Windblume be today?" The clicks of his shoes across the hardwood grew louder and a little faster as he stopped just beside your bed grabbing your waist so suddenly that you gasped. The blanket flopped off your head as you jolted away from his touch.

"Found you." He muttered, grin impossibly bright.

"Ve-" You nearly bounce off the bed. Those same fingers once idle on your waist dig into your back. Your hips wriggling around till he receives a full joyous scream as you writhe in his hold.

He really is far stronger than he appears. His grip only growing tighter as you slip and slide along the sheets, kicking your feet with each new beg for release. At some point you twist around far enough in your mess of limbs to grab a pillow from the edge of the bed launching it at full speed. The hat once sat atop Venti's head quickly falling to the floor behind him. He pauses now, lips parted in awe and you almost apologize, that is until his hands yank the pillow clean from your hands whacking you far harder than you'd hit him.

"You little.." The bed huffs in agony as you crawl up to the headboard.

"No, wait! You started it!" Venti chokes as he's soon assaulted with a pillow, covering his head with the one he'd snatched from you earlier as you rapidly thwack him.

You momentarily stop, "No I didn't! You were tickling-"

In your moment of restraint he ceases the opportunity. Your legs suddenly wrenched from beneath you. The pillow in your arms and the one he'd been using as a shield falling to the ground as he crawls atop you. You don't miss a beat, bracing for what you assume will be his revenge. Shocked to instead find your wrists captured and quickly pinned above your head. Before you can react Venti's lips are slotting over yours. His thumbs so soothing against your warm skin. Yet still firm anytime you tried to free them.

"Venti.." You sigh into his mouth. Adjusting with him as he splays his legs on either sides of your waist. "Venti, I-"

His braids tickled your cheeks as you gaze into those darkening green/blue irises. The heat of it all feeling as though it were settling on every inch of your skin. His resolve broke, crumbling as he drew ever closer to you. Breath fanning the bridge of your nose.

"Someone's not wearing a bra." He whispered with a low hum. "Were you trying to tease me, Darling Windblume?"

"Is that why you decided to start a fight with me?" You giggle against his lips. "Cause you wanted to touch them?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps I just really felt like tickling you today."

"Pervert." You fake pout.

His laugh is breathy, gentle as the fingers running along the curve of your spine. He traps you in yet another kiss drifting his hands slowly upwards. Your shirt sliding up as they're pushed along by his wrists. You arch your back allowing for the warm fabric to fall away, revealing taut nipples just beneath. Your grin almost childish at the sparkle that glints in the corner of his eyes. Nothing he'd never seen before but that look and that deep shudder of a breath that escaped him never failed to excite you. In more ways than one.

He dips his head to trap your right nipple between his lips. The slick suction so quickly intense on one side while his free hand busied with the left areola. This one spot on your body always had been his favorite. The perfect distraction to allow for your leg to drift along his inner thigh. Adjusting ever so slightly to slip just between his legs.

"Aww Ven, you're practically bursting out of your shorts." You sneer, taking into account the way his eyes flick up to meet yours. Flinching and grappling at the hand that soon replaces your leg between his thighs. But he doesn't bother to remove the touch. "Is this my influence on the great Anemo Archon at its finest."

He doesn't respond. With words that is. Now detached from your chest aside from one hand still affectionately squeezing your tit. His head hangs as he greedily circles his hips back and forth and round and round in the perfect tempo to make his jaw slack. Just the right motions for his chest to cave and his bottom lip to quiver. Your wrist trapped between his clenching thighs while his tiny whimpers alight flames in the pit of your stomach.

"Don't you want these shorts off, Ven?"

It had been quite a while since Venti had come to see you last. Judging by his reactions and how hard up his body seemed for even your smallest touches it might have affected him far more than he was admitting. You noted in your mind how much easier it was to undo his corset than when you'd first done it, happy to watch the article of clothing fall to the floor. Followed by his cape, blouse, shoes, stockings and lastly his shorts. Which were the quickest to go, his drooling tip bobbing around as he moved to help you undress as well.

When he kisses you again it's far rougher, filled with need as his incisors nip at your bottom lip. Tugging it open for his tongue. Meanwhile you found your hands sliding over every lithe curve of Venti's stomach, hips and back. Delighted by how warm his skin felt as though it were your first time with him all over again. His body was so incredibly soft to the touch. Every expanse so firm and nearly any drag of your fingertips made him shiver in ecstasy. Especially the tiny pinches you administered to his nipples.

It'd distracted you so well you weren't privy to where his fingers had moved until they were tugging a moan from your throat. Your cunt welcoming his fingers with no resistance. He straightened up keeping your hips locked in with his thighs, your legs already beginning to quiver as he scissors your flexing pussy.

"Windblume.. I don't want to be gentle anymore." He states firmly

"I'll take it, I promise."

The gasp you let out is noisy, reverberates in a clash off the walls of your bedroom as he adds a third finger. Pounding all three into your spot until you're squirming, inching away from his touch. The sensation gathering in your belly like a clash of pain and pleasure so deep your eyes shut. Then as suddenly as it arrives Venti's retracting his fingers.

You don't even begin to fully exhale before his cock is penetrating your sopping opening, not even bothering to stop until he's balls deep. His moan of your name so throaty and filled with contentment that it almost sounds like a thank you. Followed almost immediately by open mouthed kisses to your face.

"Love, I can't.. can't stay still anymore.. I wanna fuck you." He whispers

The tip of his cock instantly ruts harshly against your spot, so dangerously near your cervix. You find yourself clinging for dear life as Venti only speeds forward, his breathing so harsh against your ear canal. Your nails scrap skin up from his back trying desperately to find any kind of purchase with the way he's so violently fucking inside you.

The pounding of the headboard just behind you two continues to feel louder and louder but it still doesn't out do Venti's pants of your name. The way he chokes and whimpers with every clench of your cunt.

"Windblume.. you're sucking me in so deep.." You can nearly feel the roll of his eyes. "Did your pussy forget me?.. I've been gone.. too long.. because this feels.. so much better than I.... remember."

You can barely form a coherent reply, only his name floods off your lips as you scream for- who knows at this point.

His face dips into the crook of your neck. Sucking sections of your damp skin until it bloomed a bright pink. His free hand cupping and massaging your breasts. Switching between the right and left to give each side an equal amount of attention. Your nails soon leave his back, traveling up the nape of his neck to guide his head.

"I'm gonna cum.. love.." He whimpers, moving the hand that once fondled your breasts to your stomach as he abuses only your spot till you're sobbing and shaking.

Your own orgasm fast approaching with every slide of his cock. He leans back over your lips letting every noise in his body escape against the wild clash. Every second you squeeze him only making his movements that much more harsh. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, white flashes burning into your retinas. Your back arching away as you were hit with immediate overstimulation.

"I'm there, I'm there, Windblume!" Venti's cock twitched with every drop of cum that escaped him. His exhales fluttering over your chest. A couple of quieter moans filtered from his mouth now as his climax ended with your pussy still softly squeezing around him.

His lips pressed against the crown of your head. "Sorry, did I get too carried away?"

You sighed eyes threatening to shut, "Maybe a little at the end but you clearly needed me sooner." A quick kiss to his chin then cheek. "You should've come."

"I wouldn't have been able to stay for long." He whispers "I don't want your mind to drift until you talk yourself into believing I only want, no, need sex from you."

"I've never thought that, Ven."

"Please never think that.."

You give a light chuckle, "I don't."

"Good." His palms slide up to your face coming up to rest on your cheeks. His kiss is far softer yet still a touch needy. "I can buy you breakfast while I'm here, I raked in extra mora from performing. So whatever you want tomorrow is yours."

"Apples and cheese then?" You giggle at the crease of his eyebrows.

"How dare you try to ruin a perfectly good apple.." He snorts playfully

"How about this: pillow fight, loser has to go out earlier and get whatever the victor wants for breakfast."

"Better proposition we just have sex again because that's what would inevitably happen anyway annnddd fight about who's gonna get breakfast tomorrow, tomorrow."

"Sounds like a fair trade."

[tearskillstardust]

❝ OF THOUGHT AND BIRTH DIVINE. ❞

001. 𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌—智慧之神。

Since antiquity, a word goes around in the lands surrounding the capital.

It's nothing new really, an old wives' tale—it has been passed from generation to generation by curious mothers who were once children themselves, having listened to the same story at least thrice from their own mothers before it was ultimately passed down to the next generation.

Your own mother had been shelling peas when she casually brought it up and you as casually dropped the vellum to listen in closer.

'They say the knowledge of prose and poetry is passed down by the God of wisdom, himself, and it is only from his generous blessing that one is able to find skill in these areas that leave most counting stars. '

You laughed, finding it as stupid as a donkey winning in a race of horses.

'Oh?' you questioned, and she passed a side-eye at your smug expression as you continued, 'And how much, pray tell, did you reminisce of', you sarcastically made exclamation marks in the air here, 'the God of wisdom, to have a child so blessed in the knowledge of poetry such as I?'

You did not have the right to complain when her hand playfully came to smack you at the side of your back, your father laughing as he came to settle next to you on the cot, having managed to find some free time from work only then.

'She's right, though, isn't she? Your child is blessed with the knowledge of poetry, why not appreciate it sometimes?'

Your mother passed a fond look before playfully pulling on your ear as you winced just as naughtily to provoke your father into taking your side—

'Aaah! Papa!'

'Don't listen to her! Arrogance keeps surfacing in this child's countenance!'

Your father laughs, affectionately freeing you from your mother as he handed you your vellum and secretively pointed towards his study.

He turns to your mother, 'You can't be like that with her anymore, love. She's grown and will marry away in some time, be kinder.'

Right, you think, rolling your eyes, finding the fun atmosphere deflating as you returned towards the study. You put away father's books from before—logs and registers detailing the exchanges of his store's valuables—absentmindedly staring at the feather in your hand as you played with its ink, making random pictures of flowers on the edge of you sheet.

If the restrictions put on all politically, especially the young who needed the most freedom of all, were not enough already, then there everyone was—putting more pressure socially.

Marriage was never a matter of casualty, if it occurred without inviting family from even the ends of the earth, then it was considered an unsuccessful one—and while you yourself were not big on having kids and romancing boys, the prospect of having a compatible, loving partner was not one that never crossed your mind.

Alas, you stared at the blank sheet with a more than bored look upon your features.

Inspiration was always hard to find.

Putting down your pen you rose with a sigh, gaze shaded with disappointment over inability to complete the poetry. What would rhyme with saccharine, anyway?

Mine?

No, you thought, turning towards the exit of the house without consulting anyone, only vaguely announcing to your father who sat on the cot, quietly enjoying his tea, as his gentle eyes traced your movements.

'I'll be back,' you said, and he nodded with a soft smile. Innocent, he was. Your father, that is. A man of simple but honest means, always smiling and finding joy in the basic things—your mother wasn't selfish herself, but she was certainly much cleverer than her husband.

You chuckled absent-mindedly, they were a cute couple. While most certainly were they a couple put together randomly by their families, they had accidentally ended up being the most compatible for each other than either would today admit. But when the moon danced with the clouds, it were their laughs of genuine amusement, arising from reminiscing old moments spent together, that softly sparked joy within your heart.

It was a tiny wish then, in the very corner of your heart, that if you end up marrying a noble man, then he too, be as lucky as your father had been for your mother.

Lost in thoughts, when the expanse to the lake had been covered, that you did not know but you headed straight towards the still water body. Sitting next to its very edge with a sigh, wallowing in self-pity as you sought to better your mood, you began thus, looking at your reflection in the still water—

'Often do lilies turn to me, hiding faces showered in glee. Shaded in shyness the orchids ask, where were you gone, Malika? and in my innocence I answer, to the devil's lair.'

Silence.

You broke out laughing, finding the poem less descriptive of your own self than it was of the orchid's undying curiosity as its vines spread their feet as far as they possibly could.

And while the poetry itself was a little less than mediocre in your eyes, someone else seemed to have been much too impressed for either of your best interests.

It was when you finally began preparing to rise, having had more than enough ideas to continue your work when he interrupted, both intrigued and upset as he spoke—

'Will you speak no more?'

You turned around quickly, and much to your embarrassment, did not manage to find the source of the voice until he scoffed again and waved his book boredly, 'Here, lady.'

You cocked a brow at him, 'I'm not a lady but you're definitely an auntie. Tell me, what is it?'

He curiously asked, voice managing to hide his internal desperation, 'Will you compose poetry no more?'

You looked him up and down and it was then that you managed to catch a proper glimpse of him as the clouds cleared, as though the Gods themselves were keen on enhancing his divinity, the crown of his hair shaded with pale yellow light.

He was young in appearance, perhaps even a girl's dream husband, but the stillness of his disposition and eyes spoke of a maturity which was rarely found.

You would've described him in fluent poetry, should you have had the patience or the time (or even interest), but just as quickly did the sun hide and the shadow fell upon him once again.

You breathed, and so did he.

You turned around with the attitude of a real Malika, 'No.'

'Why not?', came his answer, just as quick.

You rolled your eyes, turning back with an annoyed expression, 'Don't you know it's rude to listen on to people secretly?'

He sighed, 'Your voice is too melodious not to be listened to, Malika.'

You passed a dull expression, 'Lady to Malika, huh?', then rolled your eyes boredly, 'Chameleon.'

An amused smile stretched across his features, and if it didn't already seem as though the Gods had carved him out of the finest marble, then now it seemed as though sunlight poured from urns onto his ethereal features.

You blushed red at your internal monologue of his beauty.

Why did it matter, anyway?

People were never allowed to choose partners of their own, regardless they be lovers or not. Ideas of romance were better of printed on paper and sold off for gold—not for building your future on. Or so your mother said.

'Lost in thought?', he inquired, sitting up straight as he shut his book, yawning quietly before his gaze turned to meet yours once again.

'No, I know what I have to do.' you shook your head and turned away again, only to lulled in by the trap of his own voice once again.

'Please,' he said, desperate now, and you could not help but feel the smallest pang of shyness at his insistence. 'If not poetry, then talk about something. Anything.'

'Like?', you questioned once again, cursing your curiosity and intrigue with the young man once again. But who were you to deny yourself the simplicity of indulging in conversation with one so charming as him?

He smiled, but only innocence lay behind its drape. 'Like, what's your name?'

The cry of the cuckoo came to you on the wind.

You answered with a glittering smile, 'Y/n. And yours?'

He smiled back, just as illustrious in his wake. 'Al Haitham.'

If you were surprised at the scholarly name, you did not show it.

Silence ensued, in the midst of which none desired to speak. It was the first time you were with him in which he did not desire you to speak, but merely to smile as he watched on, as though unable to move on from the tantalizing spell of your gently tugged lips.

Squirrels curiously peeked from behind trees laden with fruits, as the curious sparrows lined up together in serenity, watching on. Even the mischievous macaque stopped for a moment's notice, taking a break from dropping half-eaten fruits into the water, for the pleasure of watching its surface ripple.

He spoke at long last—voice laced with unimaginable gentleness.

'Pray tell, what troubles you so? Did the poetess/poet not find enough inspiration for her/his work?'

You smiled gently, your heart just as calm as you were, as though under a spell. 'Indeed.'

He chuckled, 'Blessed with a moon-like face and still troubling yourself with inspiration?' he rose suddenly, humming thoughtfully as he came closer to you with a teasing smile.

'Just a suggestion', he said, smile never leaving his features, 'Why not write about how the sun fell for the moon?'

'Oh?', you asked, suppressing a smile at his implication, considering the way the sun seemed to sit right upon his head, as though a crown.

He nodded again, 'The way it so desperately tried to reach her,' his gaze flickered ever so gently towards your hands, 'only to be held back by the confines of the sky.'

'Confines of the sky or confines of its own rule?'

However romantic may the sentence itself might have been, the aura of gentleness contained in him never managed to leave, as though he knew nothing but gentleness for you.

His gaze softly brushed over yours and he pointed towards the small twig stuck in your hair, removing it when you nodded softly.

'Alas, the moon is much too a beauty to be forced into submission,' he playfully answered, 'The sun must find a way to reach her in the end.'

You winked at him, just as playful of nature, if not more. 'Well, he might have to do it quick then. For should the stars reach her before the sun does,' you softly poked his nose at that, 'then the sun will be left watching.'

His gaze glittered with adoration and love, as though he had never seen more beautiful a being. You flattered yourself and turned on your heel, walking away with a smile before his voice came to you once again—

'Will you meet me here tomorrow?'

You turned playfully, the wind playing with your hair, reflecting your saccharine mood.

'What if I don't?', you shouted back, and his laugh came on the wind,

'I'll wait for you regardless!'

And while the question of whether or not you would meet him by the lake the next day was one you would decide on spontaneously, it was magical almost when your pen seemed to simply glide in your hands. Words stringed like necklaces of pearl in quick succession—

You suddenly remembered your mother's tale and the young man, finding it funny how seemingly, a talent for writing was certainly not one that was bestowed upon personally by the 'God of wisdom', whomsoever might the deity behind the name be.

Unless, well, Al Haitham was the deity.

You chuckle to yourself at the prospect, impossible, you think to yourself, feather dipping in ink as you continued the verse.

And understanding with the snap of his finger, the thoughts swirling in your mind, Al Haitham smiles to himself contentedly.

Most often, love is found in the most unexpected of places.

Better it was that way—he laughs to himself as he thinks that.

Confessions of truth and identity would be a tough challenge, but what was love, if not a challenge itself?

Nonetheless, for now, your smile was more than enough for him.

taglist : @astrothingsiwillneed, @dollhwa, @franxx-law, @lovingami, @mxyarylla, @ichorstainedskin, @nezukoo-channn, @arisaturn, @moodybluesrequiem80, @sleepy-waffle, @angel-of-requiem, @maleniaswife, @imgonnacrackarib, @flilou02, @beloved-brynn, @confusedo-17, @3443652, @wolfiafuntime, @meimeimeirin, @dottoresil, @sleepy-waffle, @floraldresvi, @ayra2452008, @peachiimcha, @dumb-gemini, @sh1-j1m4, @sangoqueenkoko, @kokosheep, @apwing @cheezzyshhh @willbedecided, @darktypedreams, @urlocalheizousimp @neuviloved @stormyenglish-23 @ishiyii @reixtsu @scaranthropy @caffeineinjelly @mellowberrie

[peachyloveswriting]

Hi can u do a Jealous Kyle?(THXS)

"Yeah. But you're mine." --- (Kyle Brovloski)

SUMMARY: Eric has always had the feels for you but it's really starting to get to Kyle.

WARNING: Slight smut, just making out that's it. Nothing too serious, recording. :).

NOTES: I've written in first person before and I do like it better than second person idk if it's gonna stick just lmk what you think.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

The lunch table around me is loud, I can barely hear any coherent conversations other than my own. I find myself shouting over the table, bickering with Eric. He glares at me smugly, a glassy film over his eyes. Usually it's Kyle who yells at him but I find that the space beside me has gone silent.

"Just shut up fatass!" I snap.

He snickers at me. "Only for you."

I cringe and shake my head, adverting my gaze to the untouched plate in front of me. It's likely cold by now from being so enthralled in my argument but it's much more appealing than looking at Eric's face. I'd rather look at death in the eyes than listen to Eric make such comments about me to my face. Eric has always flirted with me though, but I've never been interested in him. It's been happening everyday since fourth grade and occasionally I stop to think; If I just said me and Kyle were dating he might stop but for the sake of my privacy, I say nothing. At the start of our relationship, we agreed to not tell anyone so we could keep it to ourselves. I was and still am perfectly fine with that, until Eric started flirting with me again.

"I'm going to go roll me one, y'all coming with me?" Kenny pipes up from the end of the table.

Kyle's hand grips mine as he stands to his feet, turning everyone's attention to us. "I'm coming." He announces. After being quiet this whole time, I feel surprised to see him suddenly jumping to volunteer for skipping class. That's not much like Kyle at all.

When we snuck out the back with our stuff, there were five of us, Kyle, Kenny, Stan, Craig, and I. Sneaking out was almost a hassle but we all managed to get away unscathed, leaving the rest of our friends behind. Now that I'm further away from school, I can collect my thoughts. Kyle never wants to openly skip like that, especially not to smoke weed.

"You sure you wanna smoke with us?" Kenny asks, looking at Kyle with curiosity. Looking over at Kenny, he shakes his head. With my hand in his, he lightly tugs me closer to his side.

"I just wanted to get out." Kyle admits sheepishly before looking ahead.

I watch Kenny's eyes widen, exchanging glances with Stan in surprise. I was honestly thinking the same thing, Kyle hasn't smoked a blunt a single day of his life and he suddenly went to smoke with Kenny. Now I know that's not actually true but that he wanted out and that never happens. Something about this whole thing is off, from openly holding hands to skipping school. It's just not like Kyle.

"If you don't mind I'm going to my car." Kyle points back towards the student parking with his thumb. Everyone bids us goodbye and he begins to pull me towards his parking spot. The silence between us feels thick on the walk over, his grip on my hand is tight. So tight that my palms are beginning to sweat. I look up at Kyle, his face is contorted into disgust and discomfort, in his eyes dances a quiet anger. One that I know is settled in his belly. I don't say anything until we reach the car, close our doors and settle in. At first I'm honestly unsure of what to say, he doesn't seem sad, but he seemed disappointed and angry. Like he's confused on what to feel and it confuses me.

"Hey." Kyle is looking out the back windshield, his arm spread to the back of my seat for leverage while he backs out. He's not looking at me. I wait until he's at a stop at the exit to grab his attention back. "Kyle, I need you to pull over up here." Kyle wat he's where I'm pointing. Though he's looking with furrowed brows and wandering eyes, he does what I ask and pulls over onto the aide of the road. His gaze meets mine, he's questioning me silently, confused by what I'm doing. I know he wants answers but I take a second to put the car in Park for him.

"Why?" He finally asks stiffly. I look back up, meeting his gaze. His eyes are searching mine for any clues. Softly taking his hand into mine and intertwining our fingers, I frown at him. There's just something he's not telling me, it's been happening for a while now. I just didn't know how to address it.

"Is something wrong?"

His face scrunches up. "What? No, Why- I'm good." Fumbling his words, Kyle shuts his lips. His gaze starts to shift away from mine, looking out the windows at other things. He's biting his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth before repeating it again. I squeeze his hand, pulling his attention back to me.

"Baby, you're not acting right. Is something wrong? Be honest."

He stares at me with contemplation falling over his looks, he's looking from my eyes, to my lips, to my hands, and finally back at my eyes. "Kinda." He says, lowering his gaze from mine and shaking his head. Suddenly a smile breaks out on my face, I knew he would say something sooner or later. A little convincing is all he needed, that satisfies a part of me that looks out for him, the one that feeds off his emotions. Not in a bad way of course.

"Tell me, I'm listening." My thumb softly brushes over his knuckles, smoothing out the skin there in time. It's a soft way to let him know I'm here, that he can speak to me. Kyle tends to shut down over certain things, some of which I haven't exactly figured out yet, but his well being matters to me. That includes whatever this is.

Slowly, Kyle shakes his head again. "I just don't like the way Cartman treats you." His eyes meet mine again. "He flirts with you all the time and it pisses me off." Venom flares from his tongue, creating a hateful edge in his voice that tells me he's annoyed. I can't help but wonder if it's because he doesn't trust me or if it's just him becoming uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to let him do anything. I promise." I squeeze his hand again, just to accentuate what I said but he shakes his head again.

"it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust him. Sure, you could ignore him or tell him off but what's going to stop him from continuously thinking of you like that." A shudder rolls off his shoulders. "I don't like the thought of that."

"I don't either, but it's best if we leave it be. It's been almost seven years and he hasn't made a real move yet. I'm sure it's fine." Part of it is true but the other half doesn't feel as reassuring outside of my head, really my only goal is to sooth Kyle's worries but I seem to be interjecting myself now. He scoffs at my words and I furrow my brows. His eyes shift from discomfort to stern and sharp, an assured glare in his gaze. Maybe not directed towards me, but it sure feels like it.

"Yes, but you're mine." The roughness in his voice washes over me in a rain of tingling sensations, like tiny pellets raining down from the sky, pelting my skin. A shudder runs down my spine again. "I don't like him thinking he has a chance with you at all." Kyle finishes. Frustratedly, he points back at the school and groans at the end. Laughing softly and taking my hand away from his, I cup his cheek with it. The grin on my face can't be helped and neither can the heat, but I press forth.

"Yes, I'm yours. But maybe you should give him a reason to stop."

Suddenly it's like a fire lights up in his eyes, creating an evil grin right along with it. The cogs turning in his head are so obvious that I can practically feel the thought forming in his head. I'm unable to get my own thoughts out before he snaps his seatbelt back and presses a hard kiss on my lips. I hum in shock, my chest squeezing strangely in response. Roughly, our lips move together, a sort of sloppy manner tied in with it. Along my shoulders are his hands almost daring to pin me back against the seat and climb over. Still, they are teasingly holding me in place. I can feel one of his hands disappear from my shoulder but I'm not really looking to see what he's doing.

His teeth sink harshly into my bottom lip, pain shooting through it. Opening my mouth with a gasp, a small noise that can only be heard as a moan escapes me. Kyle begins to smile into the kiss, his other hand sliding down to my waist while slipping his tongue into my mouth. We've made out before but it's never been this intense before. I can even feel the tension building in the pit of my stomach, the kind that begs for attention. I didn't mean for it to slip out, but when it did I think both me and Kyle were shocked. "Please." The whimper is nothing more than a pathetic cry for attention, something that hitches the breath in the back of his throat for just a moment before he pulls away grinning like crazy.

"Yeah. That's right, beg for me." Callous in his voice sends a feeling of arousal between my legs, I squeeze them together in hopes of creating more but I get nothing in response.

"God damnit, Kyle." I huff.

Very slowly, with hazy half-lit eyes, Kyle pulls away. That's when I hear it, the sound of my own small plea repeating itself. My stomach twists, Kyle lifts his phone to reveal the whole thing on recording. My cheeks flood with heat and I look away, shy.

"I'm saving that for me." He mutters.

Looking back over I can see him saving it to his phone before opening up his messages. That's when I realized the name at the top is Eric's. Face red as ever I look back up at Kyle, my lips slightly agape and eyes wide. "Shit, that was hot."

Kyle snorts. Clicking the phone off, he looks at me. "I know it was. But it won't be for him."

"What if everyone sees?" I ask.

He puts the car back in drive with a proud grin on his lips. "They can look all they want." His hand comes to rest on my knee, squeezing softly. "At least they'll know you're mine."

[rustingcat]

The moment Kara heard Sam was coming to town she knew there would be trouble.

Not that she had anything against the woman, quite the opposite, she absolutely adored Sam. But her visits tend to be a bit… chaotic.

It started not long after Ruby turned old enough to babysit Esme by herself. Sam would fly to National city for a weekend, leaving Ruby at the Danvers-Olsen house for a paid sleepover with Esme, and dragged the superfriends to the nearest Bar to get them all shitfaced drunk.

Kara would not easily forget waking up on the roof of a ferris wheel once, wearing a clown outfit and hugging a pogo stick. She did forget the events leading up to that point due to the large amount of alcohol she consumed the night before.

Kara briefly toyed with the idea to visit her parents on Argo for the duration of Sam's visit, or at the very least her first night. But she hasn't seen her in so long, and with Kara's very busy schedule she decided it's a good opportunity as any to take some time off and enjoy a night out with her friends. She just hoped there would be no stumbling drunkenly into any more theme parks.

That's why she was very surprised to learn that Sam's new adventurous plan was a simple game night at Kara’s apartment.

With alcohol, of course.

Kara kept her drinking at a minimum, just enough to get some nice buzz out of it, but a far cry from a complete black out. She wasn't the only one, most participants had seemingly decided to avoid a similar fate. Much to Sam's disappointment, Kara assumed, since she kept asking them to do shots.

After a few tame games of Settlers of Catan and a round of pictionary, Sam decided to spice things up a bit. They started with a game of 'would you rather' that slowly evolved into an open question format where everyone answered the same questions.

"Favourite… type of apple?" It was Nia's turn to ask, she spent almost 5 minutes struggling to find a question before settling on one.

"Really? That's the best you got?" Sam asked disappointed.

"I was panicking! That's the only thing I could think of!" Nia said defensively, her arms raising in the air in surrender. "Do you have anything better?"

"You know it," Sam said with a sly smile.

"Go ahead then."

"Alright," Sam clapped her hands, moving her gaze from one person to the next slowly before she continued. "Not including your actual partner, who would you marry out of the people in this room?"

"And I can't choose Nia?" Brainy asked, his hands deep in Nia's hair, drunkenly caressing her hair between his fingers. He may have gotten slightly drunker than most by trying to be nice and accepting most of Sam's shots.

"That would be against the rules." Sam smiled and twisted the wine glass in her hand.

"That's preposterous!" He exclaimed. Nia's head recoiled with a small groan of pain as Brainy accidentally hit her head. "There is no possibility in the multiverse I would pick anyone but her!" He announced, Nia remembered to move her head in time to avoid the second hit.

"You're no fun," Sam rolled her eyes. "Nia?" She smirked.

"Only Brainy, of course." She proclaimed loudly. Brainy rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead while she mouthed 'Kelly' under her breath.

Sam winked to her in return, while the rest tried to hide their chuckle.

"Kelly, you're next for no particular reason," Sam turned to her with a smile.

"Nia," Kelly replied with a matching smile. "For no particular reason."

"Alex?" Sam changed the topic before Brainy could interject.

"You know, I think we could've worked out," she weaved her hand towards Sam's direction.

"Yeah, we could've had some fun," Sam smirked back at her. "Alright, Kara, what about you?" She turned to face her.

"Lena," Kara answered without much thinking.

"Well, she is rich, it makes sense," Sam said under the rim of her glass.

"Rich wife is very convenient," Alex nodded in agreement.

"I'm not choosing her because of her money." The idea of reducing Lena to her finance, a walking wallet if you will, infuriated her. She was so much more than that. Kara put down her empty glass and stood up a bit faster than she intended.

"Then why her?" Sam challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Kara blinked in surprise, was it not obvious? "Because she is amazing! She's brilliant, smart, kind and… pretty," she added with a small blush creeping up her neck. "Also a great listener and problem solver, which is important in a relationship. And-"

"Yeah okay, we got it," Alex cut her off.

Kara gave her a mocking look in response, eyebrows squinted and tongue sticking out as she walked up to the kitchen to refill her glass.

"Lena, who is your pick?" Sam continued with the game.

"Kara, of course." The way she said it, as if there were no other options, filled Kara with warmth she was not expecting. She also wasn't sure why it made her smile so much, but it did. Then again they were best friends, it would be awkward if they were not to pick each other, right?

"Hey Kara, can you get me a beer?" Alex called out.

Kara studied her for a second. "No, you were being annoying."

"Wha- Kara!" Alex whined.

"Get one yourself," Kara shrugged, and poured herself a glass of white wine.

"Kara, can you give me a glass of red, please?" Lena asked. Her voice was so soft, it sent shivers down her spine.

"Of course," Kara quickly pulled another wine glass from the upper cupboard and placed it on her kitchen island.

"Hey, I asked you first," Alex shouted in retaliation, as she finished filling the second glass. "So you're getting Lena's drink and not mine?"

"Yes," Kara answered with a smile, walking back to the living room while maintaining eye contact with her sister, knowing it would annoy her more.

"Why?" Alex challenged, squinting her eyes while maintaining the eye contact.

"Wife privileges," Kara shrugged and took her place next to Lena, shifting a bit closer to her this time before she placed her glass on the table.

Kara almost forgot about the whole thing, until a week later when Lena brought it up. They were sitting in Lena's new office, talking about her new conjoined plan for both her foundation and the newly reformed L-Corp for a new source of green energy. A top secret plan, but Lena was talking about it with so much enthusiasm that Kara couldn't help herself, asking more and more questions, eager to learn more about it. Soon after, Kara found herself in the halls of the foundation's labs, Lena excitedly telling her about the project in detail.

"This sounds amazing, Lena! But I thought this was top secret, not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you this enthusiastic, but how come I get to hear about it?" Kara asked eventually.

Lena was quiet for a moment, before she answered "wife privileges," with a shrug, her cheeks slightly pink.

Kara brought it up next, when she forced Lena to leave the office at a reasonable time. Claiming 'wife privileges' as the reason Lena has to follow her home and relax for a bit.

Lena later used it as an excuse to steal a fry off of Kara’s plate, even though she insisted she only wanted a salad. When she met Kara raised brow she simply shrugged and claimed “wife privileges.”

It quickly became an inside joke for them, a reason for them to do a nice thing for each other or an excuse to get away with stuff; like buying lunch, stealing clothes or bringing surprise pastries. Things they were already doing anyway, they just had a better excuse to do it more often.

"Hey, it's been a month since that game night," Kara said, raising her very fancy wine glass to her lips. Lena invited her to a fancy Italian place that opened recently. It was right after Kara mentioned a craving for pasta the day before.

"Are you suggesting it's our anniversary?" Lena smirked, leaning back on her chair. She didn't need to be specific, she knew Lena knew what she was talking about.

"Happy anniversary." Kara raised her wine glass and smiled. She loved how quick Lena could understand her.

"Happy anniversary." Lena raised her own glass to toss it with hers, smiling her wide smile with the dimples that made Kara all warm inside. She was so captivated by the smile that it took Kara a few moments to realise the waiter was standing right beside them.

The meal was, of course, amazing, not only because of the quality Italian cuisine, but her fantastic company. Kara always felt most like herself when she was with Lena, she wasn't sure why but she made her feel at peace.

They finished their meal, still deep in conversation, sipping the remaining of their wine when the waiter appeared. Presenting them with a complementary tiramisu with a candle and two spoons, wishing them a happy anniversary.

Kara was about to correct him when Lena thanked him with a nod and gestured for Kara to dig in. She couldn't help the goofy smile that spread on her face. Out of all the inside jokes so far, she had the feeling that that was their best one yet.

Read the rest in AO3

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You don't show up to the game the next day, and Bradley has to face Molly's wrath when she comes in your place. His heart is broken as he feels the consequences of his words, but he finally realizes just how much you and Everett mean to him. Then he sees you at Everett's Career Day, but you're not making it easy on him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley sat up most of the night in his sad apartment, sipping on a bottle of bourbon and feeling like a prize asshole. He had finally found a woman he thought he could settle down with, thought the three of you could maybe be a family, but he managed to fuck all of it up before you were even properly dating him.

This was just so on brand for him, it was laughable. Every bad decision that could be made about women, well he made them. He just had to go spouting off for weeks on end that he didn't date moms with baggage, and now Jake had made everything blow up in his face. 

The problem was, Bradley actually had said all of that shit, but that was before he really got to know you and Everett. It made him sick now to think about the implications of what he had said. 

You hated him now. He knew you must. He had managed to hurt your feelings so deeply, he didn't know if you would ever look at him again. But the truth was, Bradley was the one with all the baggage. He was the one who didn't know how to make the right decisions. He was the one who made everything too complicated. Not you. Not Everett. The two of you were perfect. And he thought for a moment that he could have you. But now he knew he had been wrong again.

And there was no doubt in his mind that Carole Bradshaw would be so disappointed in him right now. Because she would have reacted the same way that you had. She would have stood up for her only son and protected him no matter what.

He groaned as he got to his feet, swaying as he set down his half empty bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. He needed to get it together and make it to the tee ball game in six hours. 

You would be there! He could try to talk to you then. Unless you kept Everett home instead. Bradley felt like crying, so he just dragged himself to his bed and passed out with his uniform pants still on.

Bradley's alarm barely woke him up as he dragged his sandpaper tongue across his teeth and moaned. His head was throbbing, but he managed to get up and get right in the shower at the prospect of seeing you. He didn't have time to shave or eat, but he did make it to the ballfield early, just in case.

"You look like shit," Bob told him, and his expression was something akin to disappointment.

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley wasn't exactly sure how much everyone knew. He hadn't stayed at the bar for very long after you left, preferring to drink at home alone. Chalk that up to another poor decision made. 

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday." 

Now Bradley felt even worse, because Bob's relationship with your sister shouldn't have to be the collateral damage of his word vomit. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bradley's heart was skipping erratically in his chest, making his head throb more. When he saw Everett in his blue uniform, he squinted against the sunlight and almost took off running. But it wasn't you. It was Molly. And she looked pissed as hell. 

"I'll be right back," Bob mumbled and headed for her instead. Which was fine with Bradley, because now something much worse was happening. Everett was bounding toward him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to react. He just braced himself for the pain.

"Hi, Coach Bradley! See? I remembered to call you Coach Bradley instead of just Bradley since it's a tee ball day. When can we go back to the park again?"

Bradley wanted to cry. "Hey, kiddo. I missed you all week when I was away." And that was the honest truth. 

Everett just shrugged. "Practice was still fun, because my mom made it funny. And we won our last game, even though you weren't there. Do you think you can still win Coach of the Year if you missed a game?"

Bradley reached for Everett and pulled him in for a brief hug while Molly glared at him right past Bob's elbow. 

"Where's your mom, kiddo? Is she coming?"

Everett shook his head. "No, she was crying this morning, even though she didn't want me to know it. She does that sometimes, but it's usually only right after we see my dad."

Fuck. Bradley made you cry as hard as Danny did. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly feel worse, the honest words from a first grader twisted the knife a little deeper. Bradley had assured you that he was better than both Frank and Danny, but he was actually the worst one of the bunch. 

"You want me to help you with your cleats?" Bradley asked, and soon he was changing Everett's shoes while Molly kissed Bob on the cheek. He felt a tiny bit better that maybe he didn't fuck things up for Bob as well as himself. But then Everett said something that made him want to drink another bottle of bourbon and pass out. 

"Coach Bradley, are you still excited for the Phillies game next weekend?"

Bradley froze with the laces halfway tired on Everett's right shoe. He swallowed hard; in all of his fucking up, Bradley had forgotten about the upcoming game. He was going to have to disappoint Everett, because there was no way you would let him take your son to the game now. 

But he didn't know what to say other than, "So excited, kiddo." Then he sent Everett to start warming up while he pulled out his phone and tried to call you again. Voicemail. A second time. Voicemail. He'd left you so many messages already, but he decided to leave another one.

"Kitten. I'm sorry. I miss you. Please, Kitten. Please, call me back."

Bradley was surprised the Tiny Eagles managed to win the game. He was having such a hard time focusing as Molly's glare was burning a hole in his back. But every time he turned toward her, she was looking elsewhere. When the game ended, he took off in her direction, leaving Bob to clean everything up. 

"Where is she? Is she okay? Is she at home?" he asked Molly, who was finally looking directly at him as she stood up. 

"That's none of your business," she said, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, but he was going to try anyway.

"Molly, listen, I fucked up. I said that shit before I really knew her. Before I really knew what I wanted."

She crossed her arms over her chest, and the look on her face had Bradley taking a step backwards. "You called Everett baggage," she hissed as her eyes flashed. And if her sister was a Kitten, then Molly was a feral street cat that desperately wanted to give Bradley rabies. 

"Please, I'm begging you. Will you talk to her for me? Ask her to call me back?"

Molly's harsh laugh had him feeling hopeless. "She doesn't owe you anything, and neither do I. She's not your girlfriend. And now she's never going to be your girlfriend."

"Molly! What do I have to do to get her to talk to me?" Bradley asked, ready to beg on his knees for the chance to explain himself. "I made a mistake. But I care about her. And Ev."

Molly shook her head sadly at him. "Even Frank wasn't this bad. At least he didn't mind that she has a son. Who, by the way, is the sweetest child in existence." Now Molly looked like she was going to cry.

Bradley took his hat off and balled it up in his hands. He realized he probably looked insane right now, but he just needed to know how to get you to listen. "I can explain myself to her. I'll beg her to listen to me. I'll bring more flowers and more baseball cards for Ev. I'll-"

Molly cut him off with a jab of her index finger to his chest. "You can bring all the flowers and cards you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're not good enough for her. You're not good enough for them!"

His voice was soft now, because he knew she was right. "Molly, please help me talk to her."

"You know, she wants to pull Ev from the team," Molly replied, picking up his gear bag as he ran over. Bradley felt sick; he wouldn't get to see you or Everett anymore. "The only reason she's not going to pull him is because of the friends he's made, and because she's a better person than you. But she thought about it. I hope you know you hurt her that bad."

Everett plopped down on the bench, and Bradley watched Molly instantly switch modes and turn into the loving aunt that she normally was. He really was bringing out the worst in everyone right now. 

When Everett was all ready to leave, and he and Molly were heading for her car, Bradley jogged up next to him. "Kiddo? Can you tell your mom something for me?"

"Sure, Coach," he replied, smiling up at Bradley like he always did. 

Molly was staring daggers at him again as he said, "Tell her I was wrong before, but now I have my priorities straight."

"Come on, Ev," Molly told him, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. "We need to go."

Bradley knew he wasn't like Danny or Frank, and he just needed an opportunity to prove it. But he didn't want to upset Everett who was looking back at him with wide eyes. "Tell her I miss her, and I can't wait to see her next time! Bye, Kiddo!"

"Bye, Coach!"

-------------------------------

Luckily Molly was working overnight tonight and offered to take Everett to his game, because you were in no way ready to see Bradley today. Your heart was actually broken, and you were just so embarrassed. 

Your kid's hot tee ball coach. Could you possibly be any more predictable? Any more of a chiche?

You were still in your pajamas forcing down some toast when Molly brought Everett back home around noon. "We ate lunch," she told you. "Everett wanted the baseball Happy Meal toy."

"Thanks," you mumbled, knowing that your little sister who spent the night holding your hand wouldn't judge you for looking like a mess right now.

"Mommy, are you sick today?" Ev asked, and your heart sank.

"Yeah, Ev. I'm not feeling great."

He set his Happy Meal toy down and started taking off his shoes. "I know what will make you feel better! Coach said he missed you! And he can't wait to see you next time. And that he has his prior tires straight."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "He means priorities."

"Yeah. Priorities," Everett said, agreeing with her. 

You felt like crying all over again, and now your phone was vibrating with another call from him. You ignored it as Molly told Everett to grab a snack and eat it out on the back deck. Once he was out of earshot, you told your sister, "He keeps calling and texting me. I don't understand why he cares so much, since I'm clearly a joke to him and all of his friends."

Molly sprawled out on your couch. "He actually seems upset, and I am telling you that begrudgingly, because I want to hate him."

You twisted your fingers together, afraid to know, but you asked anyway. "Did he say anything to you?" 

"Yeah," Molly said with a laugh. "Plenty. He begged me to get you to talk to him. I honestly thought he was going to plead on his knees. He said he made a mistake, and he doesn't feel that way now at all."

Oh. Well that was interesting. Your phone vibrated again. 

"And Bob said Bradley is an idiot, but he didn't think he was actually trying to hurt you," Molly added. "Of course I also asked Bob if he knew that Bradley felt like kids were baggage and moms were a waste of time."

"What did he say?" you whispered, setting your phone down before you caved and answered it.

"Bob said he would find it hard to believe that Bradley actually felt that way now, based on how much he loves you and Everett. He used those words, not me."

Your heart was pounding as your doorbell rang, and Molly sprang up to answer it. "Oh, shit," Molly mumbled as she carried several huge bouquets of colorful flowers into the kitchen.

As you opened the card attached to the first one you picked up, your eyes went wide. All of the cards said the same thing, written in Bradley's handwriting. 

I'm so sorry, Kitten. You and Everett are NOT baggage. You're perfect. I didn't mean it. Please, talk to me.

"Well, you don't need all of these flowers, so I'm taking some to my apartment," Molly said, kissing your cheek as she scooped up a few bouquets. "I'll come by in the morning after work."

And then she was gone, and you were sitting inside a massive floral display with very mixed emotions. 

-----------------------------

Bradley went home and drank the rest of Saturday away until he was asleep. If Molly wasn't willing to help him, and he could understand why she wasn't, then he would have to figure this out on his own. Because at this point, he didn't know what he was going to do without you and Everett. He needed you. He needed to fix this. 

On Sunday morning, he took a shower and got himself cleaned up. Two days of looking like a disaster was enough, so he dumped the rest of the bourbon down the drain as well. Then he grabbed the one thing he needed and drove to your house, nervous as hell that you wouldn't answer the door for him even if you were home.

He parked behind Molly's car and sighed. She was acting as your bodyguard right now, that's how badly he had fucked up. Either you or Molly didn't want you to be left alone. He climbed out of his Bronco with the binder tucked under his arm, and he made his way up to your front porch.

Before he could even knock, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted looking Molly in wrinkled scrubs holding a cup of coffee. "What do you want now?" she asked, and Bradley stood back far enough that she would probably miss him if she tossed the coffee. 

"Will you please tell her I'm here?"

"She's not home," Molly replied coolly. 

"Her car is in the driveway," he replied.

Molly sighed. "She's soaking in the tub, and she doesn't want to talk to you."

Bradley ran his hand over his face, unsure how much he should push. But then Everett came bounding out onto the porch and into Bradley's arms.

"Coach! I mean Bradley! What are you doing here? The Phillies game isn't until next Sunday! And Career Day isn't until Wednesday!"

Bradley's heart clenched with need. If he couldn't take Everett to the Phillies game, he didn't know what he would do. The kid would be crushed, and truthfully, so would he. 

He knelt on the porch and held up the binder. "I just came by to give you this," Bradley told him, really examining his face. He looked so much like you. He could see some of Danny there as well, but there was no denying that Everett took after his mom. 

"What is it?" Everett asked, but when he opened it and saw the plastic pages filled with baseball cards, his eyes went wide. "No way! Are these for me?"

"Yep. All yours, kiddo." Bradley had grabbed one of his binders at random, and probably just handed a six year old a collection worth a thousand dollars. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. Bradley swallowed hard and glanced at Molly before he asked Everett, "How's your mom?"

Everett just shrugged while he looked at the baseball cards. "She said she doesn't feel good. Something must be hurting her, because she keeps crying sometimes."

Bradley let the feeling of dread wash over him as Molly sipped her coffee. "Do you think she would let me take you to the park and pitch some balls?" he asked. But before Everett could even get excited, Molly cut him off.

"Not today, Ev. Remember, I'm taking you to the movies after lunch."

Bradley pressed his lips together and patted Everett on the shoulder as he stood up. "Another day, then."

When Bradley pulled away from the curb, Everett was waving to him while holding the baseball card binder, and Molly was standing behind her nephew, flipping Bradley the middle finger. 

---------------------------------

On Monday, Bradley flew like shit. He couldn't pay attention, and he was honestly a little nervous that someone was going to get hurt. 

"What the fuck was that?" Nat asked him once they were back on the tarmac. "I'm team leader! You need to listen to me!"

"I'm sorry," he told her. "You're absolutely right. I'm just distracted today."

"If this is about your Team Mom, you need to leave it on the ground." Nat was seething, and she had every right to be. "I know Jake blew your cover, but I tried to tell you from the start that if you were interested in her, you needed to get used to the fact that she has a kid!"

Now Bradley was seething too, because nobody seemed to want to listen to his side of things. "I am used to it, Nat! I got used to it real quick! And I wouldn't want it any other way!"

"Then sort your shit out or leave it on the ground!" She stormed away from him without another word. 

Then Bradley saw Maverick strolling his way and he tightened his grip on his helmet. "Listen, Bradley. I don't know what the hell happened to you in Lemoore or what your weekend was like, but you can't be flying like that. It's a liability. I'm grounding you for the week."

"What the fuck, Mav!"

But he just held up his hand. "There's no point in arguing with me. The Admirals don't want you in the air for a few days." Then he turned and headed back to the tower leaving Bradley alone in the bright sunlight. 

---------------------------

You skipped practice on Monday. It had been three days since Bradley had seen you, and the only thing holding his heart together was the fact that Everett was still happy to see him. 

"Hi, Coach Bradley!" he called with a wave as he ran ahead of Molly. 

When Bradley headed toward the bleachers to help him change his cleats, Bob grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. "Hey, I'd steer clear of Molly if I were you. She's not your biggest fan at the moment." At least Bob's face looked sympathetic. 

"Yeah, I noticed."

Bob just kind of shrugged. "I took her out for dinner last night, and I tried my best to let her know you're not going to hurt her sister."

"Thanks," Bradley muttered. At least there was one person who didn't think he was horrible. 

Molly stood to the side and let Bradley tie Everett's cleats while he rambled on about how excited he was for Career Day. When he paused to take a breath, Bradley asked, "How's your mom, kiddo? She feeling better?"

"She's at a work meeting with someone named Frank," Everett replied, putting his Phillies cap on backwards to match with Bradley. He didn't like hearing that you were with Frank, potentially alone. But then Everett added, "She's still sad, too. She took my stuffed Phanatic to sleep with it. I think she remembered that you said it was good for if you're having a hard time."

Bradley closed his eyes for a beat. "You should go start warming up," he whispered, and Everett was off like a rocket running toward Bob. 

"She did give me a message for you," Molly told him as she sat on the bleachers and blew a kiss to Bob, who immediately started blushing. 

"What did she say?" he asked, preparing himself to beg her. 

"She wants you to stop sending flowers. I took some home, and she donated the rest to a nursing home. She said if you can't seem to stop, you can just send them directly to Bright Senior Living so she doesn't have to drive them there herself."

"Fuck," he growled, dropping down on the bench next to her and burying his face in his hands. He sat there for a bit as Bob started practice without him. He was so far out of his element. He had never chased a woman before in his life. He never saw the point in it until now. If he could figure out what to do, he would do it immediately. 

"You actually care about her?" Molly asked softly, and Bradley turned to look at her. 

"Not just her. Everett too. I can't get enough of either of them." His eyes were stinging as he watched Everett round the bases. 

"Then why did you call him baggage?"

Bradley stared at the turf. "Because I was terrified of falling for someone who was outside of my wheelhouse. Someone with more substance. Someone who would make it impossible to stop thinking about them." He stood, realizing it was time to go help Bob. "I'm an idiot. Truly, Molly, I do understand that. But I said all of that shit weeks and weeks ago, when I was just starting to realize that your sister meant something to me."

Molly nodded at him, and just as he was turning to head toward home plate, she said, "Then show her you care about them. And tell her what you told me. I'll let her know I can't bring Ev to practice on Thursday. And I'm pretty sure you're still on the roster for Career Day on Wednesday."

Bradley's heartbeat was speeding up. He felt more alive than he had since he was with you at the Hard Deck. "Thanks, Molly."

"Don't thank me. I'm still pissed at you. I just want my sister and nephew to be happy."

---------------------------

You left work at lunchtime on Wednesday and headed to Everett's school. When you planned out a five minute presentation for his class, you realized he was right: you did have a boring job. How you were supposed to make accounting interesting for a bunch of six and seven year olds was beyond you. It also didn't help that you were having the shittiest week ever. 

Not only were you missing Bradley and trying to get over him, you had been forced to stay late and work with Frank on Monday. Well, he had volunteered to stay late when he heard you were going to. And now you couldn't even lie to him and say you were seeing Bradley to get him off your back. 

With a deep sigh, you opened your car door and headed across the parking lot in your suit and high heels, the hot sun making you uncomfortable in your long sleeves. 

And then you heard his voice in person for the first time since Friday night. "Kitten."

You turned to see Bradley walking up the sidewalk in his flight suit, boots, and aviators looking impossibly handsome. You had been listening to his voicemail apologies last night, but the way he sounded in person made your spine tingle with need. 

You tamped it down. "What are you doing here?" you asked, not bothering to look at him as he caught up to you.

He was silent for a beat. "Everett invited me."

You scoffed. "Well, I'm uninviting you."

"Kitten. Please."

"No," you said sternly. "Why even bother if he's just my excess baggage?"

Bradley stopped walking, and when you turned to look at him, he had the same expression he had worn after you slapped him across his cheek. "He's not," Bradley rasped. "He's perfect. And so are you. And I don't want to make him upset if I don't show up."

You rolled your eyes. "Come on." He followed you like your shadow, his warmth at your back. You thought maybe he was going to touch you when you signed both of them in at the office and got name tags. It seemed like he wanted to, like maybe he was holding back. And as much as you wanted to scream in his face, your body was betraying you by craving his touch.

"This way," you told him, and when you entered Everett's classroom with Bradley next to you, your son's eyes lit up. He waved at both of you from his seat, and you had to plaster on a smile. Before giving it too much thought, you grabbed one of the empty seats between two other parents, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. 

You sat politely and listened to Harper's mom talk about neurosurgery. Then Peyton's dad talked about construction equipment. You gave everyone your full attention, firmly ignoring Bradley. You didn't even look at him once while you stood in front of the class and talked about how important math is. 

Once you were finished, you kissed Everett's forehead before you returned to your seat. But then it was Bradley's turn, and you couldn't help but look at him.

"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw, and Everett invited me here to talk about flying jets called Super Hornets." Every pair of eyes was glued to him as he gave a riveting presentation. Everett was practically vibrating with excitement at his desk, clearly so proud to have brought the most interesting adult to Career Day. You also noted that every woman was drooling over Bradley, including Everett's teacher. 

It was crazy to think that for a short time, you thought he was going to be yours. 

When everyone was done speaking, you popped out of your seat and told Everett you'd pick him up in a few hours, and then you were making a beeline for the door. You could hear Bradley calling your name, but you just kept going all the way to your car. 

"Kitten, please!" He was right behind you now, and you saw his big hand shoot past your shoulder and hold your door firmly closed. "Can we talk?"

You turned to face him, and you were taken back to every single time he had walked you and Everett to your car after tee ball practice. 

"About what?" you whispered. He had caught you off guard. You meant to start yelling, but all of the warm feelings he gave you were right there at the surface.

His eyes went a little wide as his lips parted, seemingly surprised you weren't shouting at him. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I fucked up. I should have never said those things, because I didn't even mean them."

You couldn't meet his eyes as you asked him, "Why did you say that to your friends? I feel humiliated. I feel like you think Everett and I are a joke."

"No!" he said, keeping his hand against the door and leaning a little closer to you. "You're not. And he's not. I said that so long ago, because I was instantly attracted to you, Kitten. And that terrified me."

You felt the fight draining out of you, and you knew you needed to get in your car and leave before he saw you crying. But instead you said, "Maybe you're right though. We're a lot to handle. I shouldn't have expected things to be easy."

When you turned and tried to open your door, Bradley held it shut. "Will you look at me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder as you felt tears stinging your eyes. "You and Everett are not a lot to handle. You're the perfect amount. Being around both of you makes me feel so good, Kitten." 

You swallowed hard and shook your head. "Thanks for coming today, I guess. It made him happy."

He let go of the door and ran his thumb across your jaw. "I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I made him cry."

You nodded and ducked away from his hand. "I'll figure it out. Make it so that this doesn't break his heart."

"Don't say that, Kitten. I still want to take him to the Phillies game on Sunday. I want all three of us to go," he whispered as you turned your back fully to him again. 

"I don't think that's a good idea."

You could feel his frustration rolling off of him, and his voice sounded panicked. "Where does that leave us, Kitten? Do I even stand a chance now?"

"I don't know. I need to get back to work. Bye, Coach."

This time he let you open the door, and he closed it softly once you were inside. When you pulled away, he just stood in the parking spot watching you. 

--------------------------

Bradley ended up at the Hard Deck after Career Day at Everett's school. He was grounded from flying, you'd just told him you didn't know where he stood with you, and he was probably going to make Everett cry at some point this week.

He ran his hands over his face and nursed a beer for a while. When Nat and Jake showed up, eyeing him cautiously, he thought it would be to his advantage to just head home. He handed Penny some cash, but Nat rubbed his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry I screamed at you on Monday."

"I deserved it," Bradley replied. "I wasn't being safe."

"You look fucking miserable," Jake drawled, leaning on the bar next to Bradley.

"You're literally the last person I want to talk to right now," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Thanks for Friday night."

Jake just shook his head. "Hey, I was just trying to get in her pants, okay? She's gorgeous, and you made it pretty clear the last time we talked about her that you were not interested."

Bradley couldn't even get mad, because Jake was actually right. "Well I'm pretty fucking interested in her now, okay? Stay out of her pants."

Jake just grinned. "I think I know what might help."

"This sounds suspicious," Bradley muttered, eyeing Jake cautiously. "Let's hear it."

"You still planning on going to that Padres game this weekend?"

"I don't know," Bradley groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

"Well," Jake said as he signalled Penny for a drink. "My landlord's son is the head groundskeeper at Petco Park. I can try to pull some strings if you think it will help."

Bradley gaped at him. "Do it."

---------------------------

Molly is the sister I wish I had! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 14

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

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@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

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@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

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@little-wiseone

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[wifey-badalee]

Clearly You’d rather be with her

Part 5

You had no words to say how you were feeling disappointed, hatred, heartbreak? Maybe all of them combined into one thing then yes. You didn’t understand how Alexia could turn on you like that, it was like someone else completely took over her body. She wasn’t the the same Alexia you loved, well she also didn’t love you which was very clear .

Olga that evil witch how could she do something like that, no normal person can think of something like that it’s bizarre, maybe that’s why Alexia didn’t believe you but still, you never lied and you would never make up such a nasty lie like that.

Days went by and you finally got discharged from hospital but the following day you would have to go down to the police station then settle a court date to figure this all out. You needed an attorney as well to help you out. You asked your best friend who happened to be one, to help you out. You spent the rest of your day in bed resting preparing for that dreadful day tomorrow.

On the other side Alexia had managed to bail Olga out and now Olga is crying in Alexia’s arms asking how could you have said such an accusation. Alexia comforted her and told he not to worry you and her were over and she could now focus on Olga. Alexia took care of Olga ran her a bath to get rid of the stress and relax, and they would work it out together. Olga just stared at Alexia and one thing led to another Olga was now on top of alexia kissing her they did stop though before anything could go further. While they did that you were there sobbing in your bed, you felt useless and betrayed. You wanted to die honestly after all your work out into that relationship just the thought and the pain you were feeling from the heartbreak and the pain of the injuries just made you want to end it all you were tired. You were ready to give up, you weren’t that strong just the thought of court , police, Olga and alexia made everything worse , you wish it would go away and you had never met Alexia you wish it was all just a fever dream.

The next day you went down to the police station and gave a statement not long after while waiting for your court date alexia and Olga showed up , you didn’t know how to act or how to feel while they walked in hand in hand. Alexia’s mom gave you a dirty look and scoffed and just walked passed you, you were the victim here why did everyone see you as the villain, was Olga that cunning or where you just really the problem all along.

You just ended up feeling more bad about yourself . You got the court date and told you best friend about it she said she would get everything and prepare everything for the next week. You were about to leave the station when alexia came up to you.

“ I’m so disgusted and disappointed in you, I can’t believe you still haven’t apologized and you are still going forward with this, you truly are crazy, this is a very big false accusation remember this can get you into a lot of shit , so be careful, don’t forget I also have power of my own and I will do anything to save Olga just remember that.”, she said.

Maybe suicide wasn’t so bad after all , her words cut deep.

[hoshinoyozora]

Poor, Unfortunate Soul(s)

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Self-aware! Twisted Wonderland x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Just a lil scenario about MC who ‘dismisses’ their existences aka me lmao.

“They’re just a bunch of game characters, anyway. Why should I care so much about them?”

You laughed, unaware of the hearts that you broke within the screen. The thin yet sturdy piece of glass that separated you from the people who thought of you as their world. Their everything. Your friend chuckled, adding salt to the injury. Had she didn’t ask you why you hadn’t logged into the game for days, weeks even, maybe they wouldn’t be so humiliated and disappointed.

But did that mean they wouldn’t know your true opinion on them otherwise?

Maybe ignorance was bliss, because, then, they would’ve kept holding onto the hope for you to come back. To still want them the same way they wanted you. In this world of codes and numbers, you were the one real thing in their lives. You were human. Warm, fleshy, and expressive. And yet, you dismissed their existences so easily just because you both lived in two different worlds.

Did they really mean nothing for you? Were all of your reactions towards them merely a façade? Or a memory so insignificant you forgot about it in the next day?

“Maybe I should just delete the app. It feels like a chore to open it nowadays.”

The sky darkened, the ground trembled, and the thunder rumbled as the result of a certain dragon fae. Was this your true self? Then again, NRC was a school of villains. They shouldn’t be surprised if you, the Player, turned out to be the biggest villain of all. Not even Malleus Draconia could hold a candle to you. Your words alone had the ability to mold and break their spirits. Your touch alone could move them somewhere else and show them how beautiful Twisted Wonderland was with you by their side. And your presence alone gave them a reason to live.

If you were to disappear, wouldn’t that be comparable to death? A slow, painful death where everyone lost themselves in depression and rage, and ultimately, destroyed themselves. In a moment of morbid curiosity, they wondered if that was what you wanted all along. You toyed with their hearts, and when you got bored, you moved onto their lives.

“We… we can’t just let her leave!” A boyish voice, thick with desperation and an even desperate attempt to recompose, shattered the mournful silence. Everyone recognized him as Ace Trappola, one of Yuu’s enviable first friends and troublemakers from Heartslabyul. “We need to stop her! Come on, guys. Are we really going to stop now, after everything we’ve done to reach her?”

“But how?” Leona asked, sounding even more listless somehow. Despite his pride and consent, you’d taken a peek into his past and remained amicable with him. It didn’t matter that it was for the sake of the plot, your vessel, Yuu, still approached him and asked for his help during Octavinelle’s story. Didn’t that mean something for you? For him? “Just because we’ve managed to hack into her phone doesn’t mean we can drag her here. There’s only so much we can do to make her stay.”

Ace flinched, unprepared for the reality to slap him twice.

“I-I don’t know.” He turned to face the Diasomnia gang who, with the exception of the sniffling Sebek, looked as somber as a funeral guest. “Malleus-senpai, Lilia-senpai, you guys gotta know something about bringing someone from another world, right? You guys are the strongest of the strongest. I don’t care if it’s forbidden. There… there has to be a way!”

For a moment, they were silent as though reluctant to admit their lack of knowledge. Ace wilted, his buckling knees threatening to collapse once the severity of the situation settled in.

That is, until Lilia opened his mouth.

“… There is, actually.” he murmured. “But for every soul that moves here, another has to replace them.”

Some of the characters lit up, but the others remained skeptical.

“And I assume it’s for the sake of balance?” Vil mused, crossing his arms.

Lilia’s glance confirmed his suspicion.

“T-then, what are we waiting for?” In a burst of hope, Azul momentarily stopped sobbing. “Let’s sacrifice that person.”

“But who’s gonna be that person?” Jamil retorted.

Everyone fell quiet again, unwilling to be the lamb in the altar of your capricious existence.

“The NPCs ‘live’ when the story is moving.” Idia mumbled through the floating device. His shyness and reluctance for a face-to-face interaction was customary, but nobody could truly see the underworld his sanity was falling at a rapid pace. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he still wanted to see you living among them. Literally. “That means she has to play again if we want to sacrifice one of them.”

“I, for one, would be more than willing to help ‘convincing’ her, if that’s what it takes.” Jade simpered with his eyes closed and a hand over his chest.

“Oui! It’d be a splendid day to see her sublime face gracing us again. The sun would shine warmly, the flowers would grow tastefully, and the birds would chirp merrily!” Rook enthused, jabbing at Malleus’s inadvertent use of magic.

Riddle wiped his teary eyes with the sleeve of his uniform and straightened up.

“Seeing that our Player has slackened in her responsibility to watch over us, it is our duty to set her right.” he declared. “Heartslabyul students, I order you to find this person and bring him here!”

“I-I agree…!” Sebek piped up, still loud as always despite his trembling voice and runny nose. “I shall seize him and send him to that world at once!”

Ever the dutiful one, Silver gripped his baton and nodded. As long as it wasn’t murder without a cause, he’d gladly perform any task like a true knight would.

“Well, if Riddle ordered us like this, who are we to disobey him?” Cater laughed, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Trey pushed his glasses, foggy from the upcoming tears.

“Indeed. But I won’t lie, this is something that I’m looking forward to carry out.”

“For once, you did something right, Ace!” Deuce beamed proudly.

“Oi!”

Jamil glanced at Kalim, who reluctantly nodded. He hated to see people throwing away their lives carelessly, after all the assassination attempts that he suffered through the story. But if it was for the sake of seeing you with them, who was he to stop them?

Floyd grinned happily, but the anger of being abandoned by you darkened his eyes.

“Once she gets here, I’ll be sure to give her a nice, long squeeze as a welcome~”

“Well, Leona-san?” Ruggie asked, crossing his hands behind his head. “Are we gonna boost their morale or something?”

Leona sighed, lacking the irritated exhaustion he usually had. Even he wasn’t immune to the hope that Lilia brought to them, no matter how annoying it was to trust him.

“You better not be disappointing us, Lilia.” he growled. “And you, too, Radish Sprout.”

“I don’t like this.” Jack murmured. “But if this is what it takes to make the Player fulfill her role again, then I’ll do my best to live up to the expectations!”

“I… I will join as well!” Epel stated, clenching his fists resolutely.

“Look, Brother!” Ortho chirped. “You managed to bring them all together. That’s so cool!”

Idia muttered something, but the younger boy was too engrossed in their touching cooperation to notice.

Sunlight finally dispersed the dark clouds, mirroring their spirit. Malleus took a step forward with his chin raised in determination.

“Then, I shall assist Lilia with the magic.”

You said you didn’t care about them?

Well, they would make you care.

[steddieas-shegoes]

for your prompts if you're still doing 'em, (it's not really a sentence but still):

Eddie sitting in Steve's lap, doing his thing, being as normal as he can be. They're talking to each other in low voices, in their own little world (Steve's hands are probably somewhere in Eddie's hair, or in a place they really shouldn't be around the kids, you choose,) and the rest of the party just looking at them like "wut"

You choose the ending :)

Steve’s anxiety was through the roof, and since he couldn’t really figure out why, he’d naturally settled in his one guaranteed safe place: Eddie’s lap.

He was keeping his hands busy, braiding Eddie’s hair and letting it fall, braiding again, letting it fall.

Repetition felt good.

Especially as he felt the anxiety leaving his body with every braid.

Eddie’s hands were resting on his legs while he told him about the campaign he would be starting next week. They both knew Steve only understood about half of what he said, but it helped Steve stay centered in the moment, gave him something to focus on.

They were too busy talking to each other to notice that everyone kept throwing long, questioning glances their way.

Steve let out a giggle when Eddie’s hand reached up to poke his side, sensitive around the edges where his scars were the worst.

Eddie knew to be soft.

“Okay, what is happening right now? Please tell me I’m not the only one seeing this.”

Dustin’s voice was quieter than usual, which drew the attention of Steve and Eddie away from each other.

“How long has this been going on?” Mike asked, lip curling in anger or disappointment, maybe even disgust.

“When were you gonna tell us?” Lucas asked, sounding mildly hurt.

Steve and Eddie looked at each other, then down, as if just realizing their position.

Eddie raised his brow in a silent question.

Steve gave a single nod in answer.

“It’s been a couple months. Wait!” He yelled when they all started chiming in. “We were going to tell you all at the next movie night. We just wanted to get our feelings handled together before involving everyone.”

“Feelings? What are the feelings?” El asked innocently.

“We love each other. A lot. And it was easier for us to figure it out without everyone since this is kind of new for both of us,” Steve answered.

“So you guys are always gonna be this gross?”

“Watch it,” Eddie said to Max. “But yeah. Probably.”

“You have to keep the door open three inches,” El said. “That is the rule for love.”

Everyone burst out laughing, even El after a few seconds.

“I think we should probably keep the door shut all the way,” Eddie smirked.

“Gross!” Everyone chorused at the same time.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PEREGRINE // PROLOGUE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You are invited to the wedding of an old friend.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: literally shaking as i post this because i have NOT been in the bllk fandom for long enough to be writing a fic for it but oh well #livelaughlove. some authors post new stories because they’re proud of their work. i post new stories because then when i write like shit i disappoint less people.

divider credits: @/benkeibear

Seishiro Nagi had always been beautiful when he ran, albeit atypical in his form. He lacked the fierceness that the others on his team had, his feet never pounding against the turf the way theirs did, his strides never swallowing the ground in quite that same manner. Instead, his steps were light, like he was dancing, or perhaps flying, like he was a falcon diving across the field in pursuit of his next goal.

He was the only thing that could unite your entire miserable, shitty town. Everyone was outside that day, crowding in restaurants to crane their necks at the little screen in the corner, pressing together in the square to peer up at the projection of the tied match, which only had a few minutes left to go before the end of the second half.

Nagi had the ball. You weren’t really sure how he had gotten it, who had passed it to him or what maneuver he had used to get around the other team’s defense, but it was all irrelevant. He had the ball, and as he barreled towards the other team's goalkeeper, the entire town held its breath.

Even you, who were never supposed to have much interest in soccer nor in Seishiro Nagi, found yourself worrying your lower lip between your teeth, leaning forward slightly, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Come on, Nagi,” you murmured. “We’re so close. Come on.”

A few more steps and a strategic feint, and then he had made it behind the defenders. The town swelled with anticipation as victory became all but certain, as the clock ticked nearer and nearer to the moment when Nagi would pull off one of those impossible moves of his, where he would slam the ball into the net and win the game for his team once again.

But the moment never came. For some reason, right as he drew his leg back to shoot, Nagi froze. His foot never connected with the ball; instead, it slowly came back down to rest as he stared down at his muddy cleats.

“What is he doing?” someone said. The cheers turned to whispers as Nagi proved himself to be a statue, incapable of moving, of defending his possession, of scoring, of anything. He just stood there, and as one of the defenders stole the ball off of him and passed it to the opposing team’s striker, he did not make any attempts to turn around and make up for his mistake. He just stood there, contemplating something, a cloudy dreaminess settling over his eyes. It was the most disconcerting thing you had ever seen, that complete apathy in face of an imminent loss, that resignation to an eventuality which he himself had created.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” a man screamed, and then it was a mass chaos as the people who had been praising Nagi only seconds earlier turned to baying for his blood, demanding he never play again as a punishment for his great sin.

They got their wish. The next season, and the next, Seishiro Nagi spent every match on the bench, not even afforded the role of a substitute, no matter how tired the rest of the team grew without his relentless presence, how many games they lost when they did not have him to rely on.

That first season after his disastrous loss, he was made a mockery of. Every single news article was about his downfall, every reporter charting out with glee the exact moment that he had gone from the media’s darling to their newest scapegoat. By the second season, though, he was largely forgotten. There were more exciting things, newcomers who had entered the league and dominated matches with their own unique styles, and so when it became clear that Nagi would not give them the reactions that they were hoping for, the journalists turned to talking about those players instead.

After that, he stopped going to games entirely.

There was another woman in your bed. You could hear her shuffling footsteps, the way your fiancé hushed her, her giggles as she ducked into some hiding spot or another, likely behind his neatly pressed work suits. You could picture it now — such a domestic scene it must’ve been. His arm, wrapped around her shoulders as he guided her to the closet. Her fingers, still working themselves free from his light hair. His eyes, a bright amber that would be glimmering from the thrill of the near-miss. Her cheeks, which would be flushed from the shame of your early return home.

You sighed, pursing your lips and then undoing the knot of the ribbon holding together the bouquet of flowers in your hand. Pouring a cup of water into a crystal vase, you arranged the flowers carefully in it, making sure you did not prick your fingers on the thorny stems as you waited for your fiancé to come thundering down to greet you.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be home so early!” he said, leaping off the bottom stair and waltzing into the kitchen, discreetly wiping his hands against his pants.

“Hey, Ryosuke,” you said. “No worries. I was actually just about to head out again; I had thought I’d wash the sheets tonight, but I think we’re out of detergent, so I’m going to run to the store and grab some.”

“Ah, okay,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

“About an hour,” you said. “I think I’ll stop by Chigiri’s on the way back.”

“Chigiri’s?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What do you need from him?”

It was ironic. There the two of you were, both pretending like he wasn’t hiding a third in your bedroom, and yet you were the one who was facing his accusations, who was under suspicion for no other reason than because you wanted to visit your friend.

“I lent him our blender because his broke, remember?” you said. “I was going to see if he’s gotten a replacement yet or not.”

“I see,” he said, relaxing only slightly. “Well, don’t delay on my part, I guess. See you soon?”

“See you,” you said. “I’ll text you when I’m about ten minutes away. If you could warm up the leftovers in the fridge, I’d appreciate it. I’m a little hungry.”

“Of course,” he said. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you said. Once, he would’ve pressed a kiss to your cheek, or maybe even to your lips, but now, he only waved at you before bounding back up the stairs, calling out some excuse about folding his laundry over his shoulder. You watched him go for a moment, wishing you could chase after him and demand he love you again, demand he love you the way he used to, but it would be pointless. You were unconvinced that things would ever be that way again.

One of the lights in the store near your house was broken. It would flicker back to life periodically, struggling to stay lit, but its attempts were stuttered and pitifully in vain. It worsened the migraine building behind your temples, and you narrowed your eyes as you reached the laundry aisle and picked up the cheapest, smallest bottle of detergent you could find.

“You should get that light fixed,” you said to the cashier. He didn’t even look like he was out of high school yet, and as he scanned the bottle, he muttered something about how you should’ve just used the self-checkout line instead.

“I’ll tell my manager,” he said when it became clear that you were waiting for a response. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” you said, tapping it against the screen and signing your name with the attached stylus. “I don’t need a bag.”

“Have a nice day,” he said robotically, mechanically. “Next!”

The woman behind you, who was juggling a screaming baby, a whining child, and a week’s worth of groceries, began to try and empty her cart, but her child kept tugging at her arms and her baby kept crying and she kept dropping things, so it was altogether a pointless effort. The cashier let out an aggravated sigh, barely even sparing you a nod as you tucked the detergent in your pocket.

You furrowed your brow as you watched the woman, wondering if that was to be your future. Once you married Ryosuke, once you became Mrs. Kira, then wouldn’t children be the natural next step? Certainly, that’s what your parents would say.

“Hey,” you said to the child, tapping her on the head as she pulled on her mother’s sleeve once more. Upon feeling your touch against her hair, she froze, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I really like your hairstyle. Did you do it yourself?”

Her hair had been tied into two pigtails and then messily plaited, small pink bows decorating the end of each braid and matching her shirt. She peered at you owlishly, confused enough to quiet down for a moment. Her mother shot you a grateful look as her one hand was freed so that she could start to actually deal with her groceries.

“My mommy did it,” the girl said, stumbling over her words. “For school.”

“It’s very smart,” you said. “I bet everyone in your class was jealous.”

The girl thought about this before nodding. “Yeah, they were.”

“I’m glad I finished school already,” you said, pretending to shiver. “If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have known what to do if you showed up looking like that!”

“Did your mommy not do your hair for you?” the girl said. You thought back to your own mother, your own days at school, and then you shook your head.

“She tried,” you said. “But no matter how elaborate the hairstyles she gave me were, they could never measure up to what you have right now.”

“Why not?” she said.

“Because,” you said. “I think your mother worked really hard on them, and that’s the most important thing. You should remember to say thank you to her when you can.”

“I always say please and thank you,” she said proudly, beaming at you, her two front teeth missing. “Mommy says it’s good manners.”

“Those are very good manners,” you agreed. “Now, it looks like your mother’s done with checking out. Let’s go to the car with her, alright?”

The girl nodded and darted ahead to grab her mother’s hand. Her mother sighed, going to free her hand from her daughter’s grip, but you stopped her.

“I’ve got it,” you said, picking up her grocery bags in both hands and nodding at the door. “Which way is your car? I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh, you — you don’t have to!” she said, fumbling in the face of the offer. “I can do it.”

“I don’t doubt you can,” you said. “But you shouldn’t have to. I’ll follow after you.”

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision for the woman to trust a stranger, but there was a sort of bone-deep exhaustion burrowing into her that must’ve made her accept the offer. So she only nodded at you and began to stride towards her car, unlocking it and opening the trunk so that you could put the groceries in it while she buckled her children into their respective car seats.

When she was distracted, you snuck the laundry detergent into one of the bags. It wasn’t as if you needed it; you had just gotten some the other day, and that had been the brand you preferred, too. The entire outing had just been an excuse for you to leave the house for enough time that Ryosuke’s new girl of the week could sneak out, as if she had never been there in the first place.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said when you pressed the button to shut the trunk, stepping back and watching it slowly lower. “Er, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering her your hand. She accepted it, shaking it so furiously it was a wonder your arm did not fly off.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. They’re so exhausting to bring along, but I have no other choice. I know it must be so irritating to the other shoppers, but…” she trailed off in defeat, her head hanging low. “I really do have no other choice. My husband’s always busy, and we can’t quite afford a babysitter or a nanny or anything like that, so they’re always with me.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “You have the right to be there, too. I hope you can always find help when you need it.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “You, too.”

“Thanks!” you said, waving at her as you made your way to your own car, only allowing your smile to drop once you were far enough that she wouldn’t notice the way it had disappeared.

You spent the drive to Chigiri’s in silence, muting the radio and amusing yourself with watching the street lamps turn on as it grew progressively darker out, their orange glows piercing through the misty night like cheerful planets, so at odds with your glum mood.

Wouldn’t Ryosuke be like that? Because of that one chance encounter, you could envision your future so clearly. It would be exactly the life that that woman led. You would have those children that he and your parents had always wanted, and you would care for them, and all the while, he would run around and sleep with any girl he could get into his bed, his existence entirely unaffected even as yours had been wrecked.

“So,” Chigiri said, stirring a spoonful of honey into the tea he had prepared for himself, his right leg extended on the coffee table before him. “When’s your wedding with that peacock bastard, anyways?”

You took a sip of the tea he had so graciously made for you before responding, taking the moment to mull over what you’d say as the liquid scalded your tongue.

“Lately, it seems like that’s all anyone ever asks me,” you said.

“It’s a pretty typical question to ask someone who’s engaged,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said. “Well, I don’t know when it is. We haven’t picked a date or made any concrete plans yet.”

“Geez, what was the point of proposing, then?” he said.

“You’ll be the first to hear when it happens,” you said.

“Really? Not Reo?” he said. You considered this.

“The second to hear,” you amended. He pretended to scowl at you, though it was half-heartedly done.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Though, I guess it does kind of make sense. Nobody hates Kira as much as I do, so you’d probably want to share the news with someone a bit more supportive.”

“It’s about time you let old grudges die,” you said. Chigiri glanced at his right leg before shaking his head.

“No way,” he said. “I’ll never forgive him.”

“It wasn’t even his fault,” you said weakly, though you knew it was just another rendition of the same argument you and he had had so many times before, the same argument that the two of you would probably keep having until you both stopped being friends altogether.

It was bound to happen. There was no way that you could stay friends with Chigiri in any way that lasted. Not as you were currently. Not as who you would soon become. That kind of person didn’t deserve to be friends with someone like Chigiri, who was always so bright and gentle, who even now was frowning slightly because of you.

“Whatever,” he said. “I won’t bring it up at your wedding. That’s the best I can give you.”

You thought that you should probably smile or thank him, but the thought of your impending wedding caused a lump to form in your throat, and it was all you could do to swallow it back without tears forming in your eyes. You gulped down the tea, hissing when it burnt your mouth, glad for the tears which sprang to your eyes and disguised the moment of weakness.

“Sorry,” you said to Chigiri, who only snorted and handed you a napkin to dab at your lips with. “Speaking of which, do you think you’d be okay with wearing a dress and being one of my bridesmaids? I’m woefully lacking in the department.”

“No,” Chigiri said. “Please, make some friends. It’ll actually be embarrassing if you have no one on your side of the wedding.”

“Sorry, but some of us had better things to do in high school than socializing,” you said, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it in one hand and glared at you before chucking it back, full-force. It landed at your side, narrowly avoiding smashing into your face, and then it was your turn to glare at him.

“For your information, I also had better things to do, but somehow, I made time to get to know people,” he said.

“Oh, yeah? Name three of your friends,” you said. He opened his mouth, but you stopped him before he could speak. “Not me, not Reo, and not May.”

He closed his mouth. “Okay, you got me there. Maybe I was more focused on soccer than I realized…”

“Maybe,” you said, though your tea suddenly tasted sour at the mention of soccer.

“I’ll wear a dress if you’ll wear a suit and draw on a mustache at my wedding,” he offered.

“Um, no,” you said.

“Then I guess we’ll both be embarrassed,” he said.

“That’s even assuming you find someone you like enough to propose to, and that that person says yes,” you said.

“I will!” he said. “Just you wait. I’ll make you eat your words!”

“Whatever you say,” you said. “I still think you’re going to die alone, by the way.”

“Better than living with that excuse for a man that you plan on marrying,” he said.

Just like everything else regarding your relationship with Ryosuke, your protests were false and weak. You didn’t mean them. In fact, you even agreed with Chigiri, but if you didn’t speak up, then who would? If you didn’t say something, then all of the time you had spent with him would’ve been a waste. Everything would’ve been a waste, and that was something you could not allow.

“I’m back!” you called out as you re-entered the house, though you knew that even Ryosuke wasn’t foolish enough to risk being caught when he had had so many advance warnings and so much time to prepare for your arrival.

“There she is!” he said, grinning up at you from the dining table, not even a guilty twinge to his words as he spoke — not that you had been expecting any. “Your food’s on the counter, babe.”

“Looks good,” you said, picking up the plate and sitting across from him, picking at the pasta with a fork, pushing it around without lifting any, unable to bring yourself to actually eat it. “You didn’t have to cook, though. There was stuff in the fridge.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said. “Can’t I do nice things for my favorite girl every now and then?”

You knew what that clever wordplay implied. His favorite girl, but not his only. You supposed he must’ve been proud of it, of that private joke made for an audience of exactly one.

“I guess there’s no reason why you can’t,” you said. “It’s good.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Now, listen, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” you said, preparing yourself for him to say that he wanted to move again or that he wanted to get rid of your cat or something equally as preposterous, as he often did when he started his sentence off with that particular phrase. “And what about?”

“We’ve been engaged for a while,” he said.

“Yes,” you said cautiously, internally cursing Chigiri, believing that he must’ve spoken this entire conversation into existence with his playful inquiries from earlier.

“So we should probably pick a date for the wedding and start preparing for it and all, don’t you think?” he said.

No, you wanted to scream at him. No, I don’t think so. I don’t want to. Nothing has to change. Don’t let it change.

You were saved from having to answer by your cell phone ringing. Without apologizing, you picked up, because there were very few people who would ever call you, and almost all of them were more important than Ryosuke.

“Y/N L/N,” a familiar voice said. Every bit of despair which had crept over you vanished in an instant at that sound, and this time when you smiled, it wasn’t forced.

“Reo!” you said. Ryosuke frowned, but you ignored him. “How late is it over there?”

“It’s early, actually, but it’s okay. I was waking up to go to the gym, anyways, and I figured I’d call you while I’m at it,” he said.

“That makes sense. What’s up?” you said.

“Can’t I just have called you because I miss you so much?” he said.

“You could have, but you wouldn’t,” you said. “What’s the real reason?”

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“Mhm,” you said.

“Fine, yes, I was calling you for a reason, but I do also miss you a lot, so don’t think I don’t!” he said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said.

“You know how I proposed to May a couple of years ago?” he said.

“I was there,” you reminded him. “And by the way, you’re lucky I was! The whole reason I went to college abroad was so that I had an excuse to never return to that place, so for you to go back and live there has really been inconvenient.”

“I can’t help that this is where our corporation’s headquarters are,” he said awkwardly. “I kind of have to live here.” You scoffed.

“Whatever. I’m not going to visit again, so if that’s what you’re calling about, then you might as well hang up,” you said.

“Seriously? Nothing can convince you to come?” he said, letting out a chuckle, the cocksure one he had inherited from his father. It was the one thing you hated most about him, but he had never managed to break the habit, no matter how many times you pointed it out.

“Nope,” you said. “Nothing.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ryosuke said. You waved him off dismissively, mouthing tell you later at him when he pouted grumpily.

“Not even your own best friend’s wedding?” he pressed. You paused, taken aback by the sudden turn.

“What?” you squealed. “Like, an official wedding? You have the day picked out and all?”

“Calm down, woman, it’s not that serious,” he said. You could hear his wince through the phone, but you were too excited to care.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you said.

“So, funny thing, that’s actually what I’m doing right now,” he said. You clicked your tongue.

“Shut up,” you said. “I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. It feels like just yesterday I was introducing the two of you.”

“I know,” he said fondly. “We’ve been arguing the whole time about whose side of the wedding party you’ll be on. At the moment, I think I’m winning, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

“You guys just assumed I would come?” you said.

“Will you not?” he said. You glanced at Ryosuke, who raised his eyebrows at you.

“Give me a second,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” he said. You put the phone on mute and set it on the table.

“Reo and May are getting married,” you said. “Soon. They want me to come.”

“Of course they would. You’re best friends with both of them,” Ryosuke said. You waited for him to reassure you, to tell you that he knew it would be hard for you to go back to your hometown but that the two of you could get through it together. However, he didn’t. You weren’t even sure why you had waited in the first place. You had known that he wasn’t that person anymore for a very long time now. Maybe it was just an old habit that you couldn’t let die quite yet. Maybe you would always be waiting for him.

“I should go, then,” you said.

“Obviously,” he said. “And I’ll come this time.”

“Naturally,” you said, because it would raise too many questions if you didn’t bring your fiancé to your best friend’s wedding. It had been bad enough when he hadn’t come with you the last time, but you had managed to soothe everyone’s concerns with stories about work being too much, how he would’ve loved to visit but had such a strict boss that he just couldn’t.

As per usual, those had all been lies. You had been the one to demand he stay back. You didn’t tell him the reason, because it hardly made sense to you, but the truth was that the thought of Ryosuke walking through the streets that had once belonged to someone else was counterintuitive. Wrong. Those steps were not his to make. That secret was not his to tarnish.

“What’s the verdict?” Reo said when you unmuted the phone and held it back up to your ear. Ryosuke leaned over and gathered your dishes, taking them with his own and turning on the sink, running them under the water, drowning out the sound of your voice.

“Don’t ask that as if you don’t know the answer, idiot,” you said. “It seems you got lucky once again. I’ll be there, and so will Ryosuke.”

Reo choked audibly. “Ryosuke? Do you mean Kira?”

“We’ve been engaged longer than you and May have. Don’t you think it would be a little weird if I still called him by his surname?” you said.

“That’s true. I was just surprised you’re still with him, but I shouldn’t have been. Sorry,” he said. “Is he going to be your plus one?”

“Again, he is my fiancé,” you said, glancing over to where he was humming to himself as he scrubbed the sauce off of the plates. Your heart panged at the sight. Sometimes, you thought that you were being unfair to him. You would hate and hate him, and then he would do something that would remind you why you had ever loved him in the first place. “Who else would I bring?”

“I don’t know, Chigiri?” he said. “You talk about him way more than you do Kira.”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “I just spend more time with him.”

“Hey, it’s not my business. If you want to have an affair, then that’s your prerogative. Although, given the history between those two, Chigiri might not be the best choice…” he said.

“You suck,” you said as he burst into laughter.

“Kidding, kidding. Anyways, May beat me to inviting Chigiri, so he couldn’t be your plus one regardless, since he’s a traitor,” he said.

“Who says I won’t decide to be on May’s side after all?” you said. “She’d probably make me her maid of honor.”

“Uh,” Reo said. “If that’s the case, then you should definitely be on my side.”

“Why is that?” you said.

“I mean, you know how the maid of honor and the best man usually spend a lot of time together?” he said nervously.

“Sure,” you said, although you really didn’t, considering you hadn’t been invited to very many weddings before, and certainly none where you had been the maid of honor.

“Well, there’s no gentle way to put this,” he said.

“Just spit it out,” you said.

“Um, just know that I really love you a lot,” he said. “But I already picked my best man.”

“How is that something you’d need to put gently? Considering my lack of ‘man’ qualifications, I wasn’t exactly expecting to get the role,” you said.

“It’s Nagi.”

Unbidden, your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your initial burst of shock quickly settled, and you realized it made enough sense that you shouldn’t really question it. “Okay.”

“I know you guys didn’t get along in high school and all, but he was the only one I could think of,” Reo said.

“Okay,” you said.

“But you’re my best friend, too, and don’t you dare forget that!” he continued.

“Reo,” you said, but he was too busy rambling to notice.

“Just please get along with him. For my sake! And May’s, if you decide to be her maid of honor,” he said.

“Reo,” you tried again.

“You don’t even have to be friends! Just mutually ignore one another or something, it’ll go much smoother that way. Or, well, if you’re the maid of honor and he’s the best man, I guess you can’t really ignore one another, so that’s a dilemma…wait, I know! You can treat him like he’s just one of your coworkers—”

“Reo!” you said, finally growing frustrated enough to cut him off. “It’s okay. High school was years ago. Neither of us is going to let the past impact the present, I’m sure. You have more important things to be stressing out about; this shouldn’t even be on your list of worries, man. You’re getting married!”

“You promise?” he said.

“Promise,” you said.

“I’m serious. I don’t want any fights or anything. Whatever hatred you had for him, put it behind you,” he said.

“I did that already,” you said. “Many years past. I’m not a teenage girl anymore. People from back then don’t bother me.”

“Not even your parents?” he said.

“Low blow, Mr. Mikage,” you said. But of course, he didn’t even know the half of it, so how could you blame him for what he had surely believed to be a harmless joke? “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them in a while, either.”

“Have they even met Kira yet?” he said.

“No,” you said.

“Great, then you can introduce him to them! It’ll be a double-win type of trip,” he said.

“Right,” you said. He sounded so happy that you couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, that the thought of introducing Ryosuke to your parents was actually akin to torture. Besides, what would he do if you did tell him? It was something he could never comprehend.

“Now I can’t wait!” he said.

“Me, either,” you said. “And Reo?”

“Yes?”

“Tell May I’m choosing her side,” you said.

“What? You seriously want to risk possibly being the maid of honor, even after everything I told you?” he said.

You thought about what the role might entail. Who the role might entail. And then you looked over at Ryosuke, who was putting the leftover pasta back in the fridge. He locked eyes with you and then jokingly scrunched his nose. You thought you might’ve found it endearing when you had first met him.

“Yeah,” you said. “I do.”

[laurenairay]

I need your hands on me, sweet relief - Q. Hughes

Summary: After another disappointing season, Quinn Hughes needs a change of scenery. Renée Moreau is just trying to figure her life out.

Also known as, the Summer in Provence.

Words: 12k

Warnings: angst, fluff, self-doubt, some bad language, hinted intimacy

A/N: Quinn has really sunk his hooks into me this off-season so I knew I had to write something for him! Provence is on my list of places to visit, so this research was really fun to do.

Title from Pretty Please, by Dua Lipa

~~~

Quinn was tired. No, he was exhausted. Every year it had been the same thing – play so hard all season, push his body to the limits, his team forcing themselves to breaking point, only to never make it into the playoffs. With the Canucks not reaching the playoffs for eight years in a row now, despite him only being on the team for half of that, the pressure was starting to take its toll.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

Something needed to change, anything, before the repeated devastation broke him entirely. It felt stupid being only 23 years old and feeling so weary, but he had to do something. He had to do something to break himself out of this cycle, mentally if nothing else. If nothing changed within him, how could he expect anything to change for the team?

By the time locker clean-out day came around, Quinn was at the end of his tether. It wasn’t uncharacteristic of him to stay quiet, he knew that, so he escaped from half-hearted conversation with a promise to attend one last team event, a goodbye barbecue, before everyone went their own ways for the summer. By the time he’d driven himself home to shower off the stink of failure, Quinn had formed a vague plan for what he wanted to do.

He was going to go on vacation. By himself. For at least two weeks.

It was completely out of his comfort zone, completely different to his usual summer routine, but the more he thought about it as he scrubbed the shampoo out of his hair, the more he was convinced. He needed a break. He needed a holiday. Now, he just needed to figure out where.

Somewhere in Canada? No, that was the last thing he needed after the crash of the season. Again. Somewhere in the US? Even more of a no, with the playoffs in full swing. So somewhere abroad? Maybe…somewhere in Europe? The continent was big enough for him to hide in for a couple of weeks right?

The only thing he could think of to do was to pull up a map of Europe on his laptop the moment he got out the shower, close his eyes and have a pointed finger land on a country. Surely he could narrow it down from there, even as dumb as he felt picking a destination this way in the first place. At this point he couldn’t back out though, the desperation fuelling him, so Quinn followed his ridiculous plan – he pulled up the map, closed his eyes, took a deep breath…and placed his finger on the screen.

France.

Okay, France was good. It was a good option, plenty of different cities all across the country. One of them would work for him to unwind in, right? Somehow, he already felt lighter, just from knowing he had a vague destination. Was it really this easy? Why had he not done this before?

Before he knew it, he was spiralling down a rabbit hole of articles - ‘places to visit in France’, ‘3 months backpacking across Europe – must-see sights’, ‘gap year in France’ to name a few – and his eyes kept catching on a name. Provence. And the more he looked into the region, the more he fell in love with its beauty; it had everything from wine tasting to lavender fields to historical towns, and he could almost guarantee that no-one would know who he was. Perfect. Narrowing things down from Europe to France to Provence...and he eventually settled on an ancient medieval town right on the river Rhône, called Avignon. It looked so idyllic, and full of things to do (as well as close distance to plenty of other things to do). Something in his bones was telling him this was the place. This was it, the place where he could disappear to for two weeks to reset and refresh from the season.

And it wasn’t hard to get to either – it almost felt a little too easy. Quinn wasn’t used to things just falling into his lap like this, like it was too good to be true. A 13-hour flight from Detroit to Lyon, and then an hour by train from Lyon to Avignon? And a pretty little apartment in the centre of Avignon for far less than he’d been expecting? It was all there in front of him, timings and pricings included – could he really just book it and disappear for a couple of weeks?

What was holding him back?

Before he could chicken out, Quinn filled in his payment details for the flights, clicking through all the submission pages until a booking confirmation was in front of him, and he let out a shaky breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. There was no going back now. He quickly booked the apartment too, making sure the dates and timings lined up, and once he had that confirmation page in front of him, he found himself laughing a little incredulously.

He'd done it. He’d really done it. He was going to Avignon in Provence, France, for the first two weeks of May and there was nothing that was going to stop him.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Quinn felt free.

~~~

It took Quinn all of his willpower not to spill his plans to his family while he waited out the month before his trip arrived, not telling any of the Canucks either at the end of season barbecue. It helped that Jack (and his team) were in the first round of the playoffs and thriving, easy to pour his focus into supporting his brother there, his family’s full attention on his little brother just as he deserved.

There was just something in his gut telling him to keep quiet. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to distract from Jack’s playoffs, but he knew deep down that he just didn’t want anyone to worry. Because they would. Taking a trip so far away just to change things up? No-one would understand. They’d just fuss and stress and make Quinn feel worse than he already did – so he just didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a little selfish, but he didn’t care.

After a hockey season like he’d had, he just didn’t care.

It was easy enough to pack a suitcase without anyone noticing either, easy enough to have it waiting by his bedroom door with his passport tucked into a rucksack along with a couple of books he’d been meaning to read for a while, easy enough to call a taxi to take him to Detroit airport early in the morning before anyone in the house was awake.

It wasn’t until that he’d checked in and dropped off his suitcase, until he’d walked through security and gotten himself a much-needed coffee, that he pulled out his phone and opened up his family group chat.

From: Quinn Just wanted to let you all know that I’m heading off to France for a vacation. I’ll be gone for two weeks. Best of luck in the second round of the playoffs Jacky!

From: Luke Wait, what? Tell me you’re joking. Mom did you know?

With that, he put his phone on airplane mode, not daring to wait for any more messages to come through. The fact that Luke was awake this early was bad enough. It was the coward’s way out, he knew that, but at least he told them all, right?

With a sigh, Quinn tucked his phone into his rucksack, alongside the travel adapter for his charging cable he’d had to buy moments ago, and pulled out one of his books, sinking deeper into his chair. Only 30 minutes until his flight would be called – the sooner the better.

The rest of Quinn’s journey faded into a blur. Going to the gate. Boarding the plane. Taking off. Eating. Watching a movie. Eating again. Reading his book. Taking a nap. One final snack before landing. Waiting for his suitcase. The train journey to Avignon. The taxi to his apartment, not being awake enough to do anything other than show the driver the address he’d saved on his phone.

By the time Quinn collected the key from the dropbox and stumbled into the apartment, it was all he could do to dump his suitcase in the living room and kick off his clothes ahead of faceplanting into the bed, jet lag dragging him down into a deep sleep with a smile on his face.

He’d made it to France. Provence. Avignon. He could finally rest.

~~~

Renée Moreau felt like she was at a standstill. She’d followed all the steps in the playbook – worked hard in high school, gone to college, graduated with a degree in Communications from the University of Ottawa – but now she was at a loss. There was no rulebook for what to do when you reach adulthood, other than the societal expectations to get a job, settle down, get married, have a family. But she was only 23 years old and single as hell – there would be no marriage and babies happening any time soon, of that she was certain, and as for getting a job? She just didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what would make her happy.

She was at a standstill. She was lost.

Sure, Renée had worked a couple of odd temp jobs after coming home to Montreal but nothing that resonated with her, much to her parents’ dismay. She loved them – truly she did – but their expectations for her future didn’t line up with her own in her current stage in life, and she knew that seeing her get more and more run down with each job that didn’t feel right only made things harder. It got to the point, after 9 months, where her parents suggested that they could pay for her to take a three-month travel break to Europe on the condition that she would work for her father’s company when she returned. It felt like an easy way out, something she’d desperately tried to avoid…but after the past 9 months, she knew she needed to do something.

So she’d agreed, much to her parents’ elation.

Renée decided on France, in the end. It was her first language after all, having grown up in Ville-Marie in Montreal, and after a bit of serious research with her parents she’d made a rough plan, starting with Paris.

Her parents paid for her 90-day Schengen visa, bought her plane tickets and paid for all her accommodation as belated graduation presents and her birthday present combined, but she would pay for all food and excursions & activities out of her savings from the various jobs she’d worked since graduating. She knew she was privileged, more so than a lot of her friends, let alone the strangers she’d met on her travels, so she knew she couldn’t take her time away for granted.

Like most things, it turned out her parents were right. The trip away, travelling around France, was exactly what she needed.

For her first month, March, she travelled around exclusively by trains. Her first full week was spent in Paris, the perfect start to her trip to soak in all the culture and history, and then after that she went to Rennes for five days, then Poitiers for five days, then Saint-Jean for five days, and finally Bordeaux for a full week.

In the last few days of March, Renée hired a car to drive to Lyon, staying there for a full week to take her into April, and then on to Toulouse for five days. Next, she drove down to the southern coast, visiting Narbonne for three days, Beziers for three days, Montpellier for five days, Marseille for five days, and Nice for five days, before finally heading to Avignon. Within her first two days there, she’d quickly fallen in love with the medieval town, so had decided to stay for her entire last month. Her parents found her an apartment that would let her stay for the full 30 days, so while she was based in Avignon, she kept that hire car and planned to travel around to different places within Provence, to get the full experience.

It was hard to believe she only had one month left before she had to head home to Montreal.

Still, she knew there was something different about Avignon, something that drew her in, something that was telling her to spend her time there – so she was following her gut, just waiting for the universe to give her a sign.

And on the first of May, everything changed.

Renée was on her way back up to her apartment after picking up a few breakfast items from the local bakery, the old lady Vivienne who ran the place having given her a couple extra croissants with a sweet smile, only to see a stranger walking down the corridor towards her. He was tall, maybe 5ft 10, with fairly broad shoulders and toned arms. His dark hair was fluffy and unkempt, his pale skin a little unnatural with its purple bags under his eyes, and he barely looked conscious. Out of instinct, she held her bag a little tighter to her chest, even though he looked a little lost rather than intimidating. But still…she simply smiled politely, hoping that this wouldn’t end badly.

“Good morning. Are you new to the building?”

The man blinked sleepily at her, silent for a moment, before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak much French. Do you speak English?”

She huffed out a laugh, her nerves fading a little. American. She could recognise the accent easily, different from her own French-Canadian, even if he was slightly slurred with sleep. “I do speak English. Are you…lost?”

He looked confused for a moment. “No?”

“I originally asked if you are new to the building,” she added.

“Oh, yes, I rented out that apartment for two weeks. Only arrived last night and I am super jetlagged, so I’m sorry if I’m a little loopy?” he said, smiling sheepishly.

Bless his heart. That explained a lot.

“I’m Renée, I’m staying in the apartment next door,” she said, holding her hand out.

He smiled warmly at her as he shook her offered hand, a sweetness that sent unexpected butterflies roaring through her stomach.

“Quinn. Sorry if I startled you. I promise I’m not this weird when I’m fully functioning,” he said, still smiling.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his self-deprecation, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it. I just want to check though…are you heading out to get breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah, I was planning on it – why?” he asked, confused.

“Not a lot of stores in Avignon speak a lot of English, at least not near us right now, so you might want to wait to venture out until you’re properly awake,” she teased.

Quinn blushed slightly, even as he groaned.

“Ah shit, I didn’t think of that,” he admitted, his smile shifting to a wry one.

She hesitated for a moment, before steeling herself. If her trip across France in the past two months had told her anything, it was to follow her gut instincts.

“Do you want to come into my apartment for breakfast? I have extra croissants, a bunch of different jams, and plenty of orange juice?” she offered.

His lips parted in surprise before his cheeks coloured again. Interesting. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she mused, nodding, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t, and we’re going to be neighbours for a little while at least, right?”

“Right.”

Renée opened her front door, Quinn following her in, closing the door behind himself gently. She smiled to herself as he curiously took in the apartment, probably no different than his other than the positioning of furniture, so she left him to look around while she unloaded four croissants from the bag and pulled out a few options of jam as well as the fresh butter in the butter dish she’d bought (that was definitely coming home with her). She gestured wordlessly for Quinn to sit at the breakfast island as she started loading the counter space in front of him, pulling out two plates, a butter knife as well as a few jam knives, and then finally the orange juice and a couple of glasses. It wasn’t much, nor had she entertained anyone other than herself in the couple days she’d been in Avignon, but it was perfect for her.

“Please dig in. It’s humble but it’s tasty, I promise,” Renée said, smiling.

Quinn just nodded shyly, reaching for a croissant. She tried not to watch him as she prepared her own breakfast, but it was hard not to enjoy the pure joy on his face at his face bite of buttery croissant, her smile catching his attention.

“Sorry, it’s just so good,” he mumbled.

“Definitely don’t apologise,” she laughed, shaking her head, “I’m sure I made the same face when I had my first croissant here. And if you think this is good – wait until you try the fresh bread. You’ll never eat processed cut loaves back home again.”

Quinn just groaned, taking another bite, making her laugh softly. She could appreciate a guy who appreciated good food.

“I think I’m going to really enjoy staying here for two weeks,” he finally said, after he’d eaten one half of his croissant.

“Two weeks huh? That’s a pretty decent amount of time to spend. What’s brought you out here then?” she asked.

Sue her, but she was curious. The exhaustion wasn’t just showing in his body – it was in his eyes too. Was he running from something?

“It’s just been a really hard year. With work, mostly. I haven’t had a proper break and I really needed one, so I pointed to a map, chose France, and spiralled down an internet rabbit hole until I settled on Avignon. It seemed like a good place to unwind and rest, at least for a couple of weeks. One of my best friends is getting married in July, so I wanted to be in a better place, mentally at least, before then,” he explained.

That definitely wasn’t the whole story, she could tell, but it was more than enough to explain the basics at least. She could understand wanting to get away from everything to reset at least.

“I’m sorry that everything’s been really difficult, but I promise you that Avignon is a great place for a vacation break. I haven’t been here long but I’m already feeling great,” she said firmly.

“Well if it’s any different than Vancouver, then I’ll be happy,” he mused.

Vancouver?

She could’ve sworn his accent was American.

Oh wait.

Oh.

Quinn.

Vancouver.

The year had been really hard for him.

You can take a girl out of Canada but you can’t take Canada out of the girl. She knew exactly who he was – Quinn Hughes, star defenceman of the Vancouver Canucks. How could she not have realised who he was?

But clearly, he was in Avignon to escape everything, to take a break from his real life and rest. She couldn’t tell him that she knew who he was, at least not right now. He deserved a little time at least to recover from the Canucks terrible season, and she could absolutely give that to him.

“Do you want me to show you around Avignon today and tomorrow? Show you the basics of our little neighbourhood like groceries and coffee shops and restaurants, as well as the tourist sites?”

“Oh I couldn’t impose,” he said quickly.

“Quinn, I’m offering because I’m happy to, I promise. Besides, you said you don’t speak much French and you might need the help, at least for the local parts,” she said, teasing a little at the end.

He blushed lightly before huffing out a laugh. “Alright, if you’re sure. I would love the guide help.”

“Great, it’s a plan! Now, please have another croissant and try another jam flavour. You won’t regret it.”

~~~

For the rest of his first day in Avignon, Quinn blearily followed Renée around, letting her help him pick up basic groceries to get him started as well as heading to a coffee shop to clear some of the fuzziness out of his head. They sat and talked for hours at the coffee shop, sitting outside on the edge of a square, just letting the sights and sounds flow over him, listening to Renée’s interesting stories about the neighbourhood.

He didn’t know if it was still the jetlag or not, but the fact that a girl as beautiful as her was paying attention to him was exactly what he needed in that moment. Her blonde curls were bouncy and shined like liquid gold in the midday sun. Her big brown eyes were almost doll-like, captivating and full of emotion. Her smile was entrancing, her laugh was like music to his ears, and she had curves for days that were simply mouthwatering. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had captured his attention like this, especially not this quickly, but after all this season had been, to have this girl willing to spend time with him? It was everything.

Quinn was still suffering with jetlag pretty badly though, which Renée noticed and clearly took pity on him for, because she kept the rest of their day pretty light, mostly just walking him around the neighbourhood, showing him roughly where the main sights were ahead of a bigger day tomorrow. Which…she still wanted to spend time with him after a day of him being pretty useless other than happily basking in her conversation? Mind blowing.

The little local restaurant that she’d taken him to that night was just the cherry on top of an incredible first day.

Just like she’d promised, Renée had ramped up activities for his second day in Avignon. He’d put up a token protest at first, not wanting her to waste time with him when she had her own vacation to enjoy, but she’d insisted that she wanted to do the touristy things too. That, and he could ‘pay her back’ for translating everything by taking some cute photos of her rather than her having to rely on selfies to send to her family.

He'd blushed, obviously, but agreed quickly. It was hardly a hardship to take a few photos of her, especially when they would all be cute.

Renée ended up taking the two of them on a basic tour of some of the main sights on Avignon. The first being the Palais des Papes fortress, which he’d read about before his trip and was actually excited to explore, even more so when Renée told him that on summer evenings there was an impressive light show there that explained the history of Avignon (which the two of them ended up attending that very evening after dinner in the little local restaurant again, with a flask of spiked hot chocolate). She’d also taken him to the Pont d’Avignon, a beautiful medieval bridge where only four arches survived. After stopping for lunch in a little café, the two of them had wandered around the flower market and farmer’s market at Place des Carmes – not buying anything but just taking in the sights and people watching, soaking in the atmosphere.

In the afternoon, she’d driven the two of them 30 minutes away to visit the Roman Pont du Gard – a UNESCO World Heritage site for a beautiful ancient Roman aqueduct bridge, where he’d taken way too many photos…and Renée had even taken a couple of him in various poses.

For the memories, she’d insisted.

How could he refuse?

Day three found them a little more chilled out. Renée liked to keep a balance, apparently, of chilled days and packing in touristy activities, which Quinn was more than happy to indulge in if it meant spending more time with her. It felt a little silly to be focusing his time around someone he’d only just met, but there was just something about her. Something that made him want to spend time with her rather than isolating himself. And it wasn’t like he’d set out with much of a plan other than getting away from everything back home.

The main thing they did on his third day was walking around the flea market in Place des Carmes, the same place that the flower and farmer’s markets were in the day before, before sitting in the square afterwards in coffee shop to watch the world go by. It was exactly what he needed after the intense day that yesterday had been, and it just gave him more of an excuse to get to know her a little better, even volunteering a little information about himself as well. Not much, but still a little, enough to make her smile at least.

On their way back to their apartments, Renée had insisted on picking up groceries for dinner, promising to cook for him (which he was never going to say no to), as well as taking him in a couple of little trinket stores she’d found on her own first day, some of which he knew he’d be returning to for gifts to take back home. But that wasn’t something he was letting himself think about right now – home. Right now, all he wanted to do was focus on the beautiful girl next to him, so full of joy and wonder and excitement, soaking in her energy.

She’d cooked him a grilled fish dish, paired with sautéed vegetables and potatoes, inspired by one of the restaurants she’d eaten at in Marseille. It was incredible, the best fish he’d ever eaten and he wasn’t even exaggerating – she blushed all the same when he complimented her cooking though, brushing herself off as amateur. If he could pick up even a little of her sense of adventure, he knew he’d be all the better for it.

When they were sitting on her sofa, dishes rinsed and in the sink, both sipping on a glass of wine, Quinn felt like he’d been transported to another world. Finding peace and comfort this quickly on a trip that he’d booked on a whim? It was the last thing he’d been expecting.

“You know, you already look a little lighter,” Renée said, breaking their comfortable silence.

“I feel it. My…job really can be so stressful. I hadn’t realised it was this bad though,” he admitted.

Renée seemed to hesitate slightly before smiling. “I can imagine the hockey season is draining.”

The hockey season. She knew. Oh fuck, she knew who he was? He found himself freezing, no idea what his face was doing but it was enough for Renée to wince.

“I’m not French. At least, I’m not from France. I’m from Montreal, born and raised,” she admitted, nerves all over her face now, “I swear I’m not going to post on social media about you or even tell anyone about you. Your reasons for taking a break are yours and yours alone.”

Quinn let out a shaky breath, trying to smile but he clearly failed because Renée pulled out her phone with a determined look.

“Here, my Instagram. And I can show you facebook too. I don’t have whatever the hell twitter is now and I never have done. I haven’t posted about you and I won’t, I promise. I’m not lying,” she said firmly.

Quinn took the offered phone, scrolling a little through her Instagram posts, noting that there hadn’t been anything posted since they’d met three days ago. He still felt a little shaky but the fact that she went out of her way to prove to him, to reassure him…it helped, a little.

“Thank you for your honesty,” he murmured.

“I didn’t realise straight away. Not until you mentioned Vancouver,” she added.

Well that was something at least.

“I was so sure that no-one would recognise me this far away from home,” he said softly.

She winced again, before smiling sadly.

“If you want, we can go our separate ways and you don’t have to see me again for the whole two weeks you’re here. I don’t want to ruin your time away. That’s literally the last thing I want.”

The full two weeks without seeing her? Something about that sat badly in his stomach, sinking like a stone, and he found himself shaking his head.

“No. No I don’t want that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, not judging me for being a hot mess, and I believe you when you say that you won’t tell anyone I’m here. My parents and brothers know I’m in France but that’s literally it. Anyone else that wants to know where I am can ask them,” Quinn explained, “I’m enjoying spending time with you, if you don’t mind spending it with me.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. Because I’m definitely enjoying spending time with you,” she said, her smile a little shy now.

For some reason, her shyness made his breath hitch in his chest, enough for him to need to cough it away.

“I’m sure. I’m pretty sure my French isn’t up to the task anyway,” he said, trying to shift the tone of conversation a little, to ease the tension he felt creeping up his neck.

Renée just laughed, making him blush slightly. That was better, even if it was at his expense.

“Your bakery order this morning wasn’t half bad! You’ll get there,” she teased, “Was there anything in particular that you wanted to see or do while you’re here?”

“The only thing I’d really read about that we haven’t seen is the lavender fields?” he suggested.

Renée grinned and nodded, making him smile. “There’s beautiful lavender fields in Sault that I was hoping to go to. Maybe we could go together?”

Quinn nodded in response, his body sinking into the sofa, releasing tension he hadn’t realised he was holding. She knew who he was...and the world hadn’t ended. She still wanted to spend time with him. He still got to spend time with her. Was this a dream? It felt like a dream.

“I definitely want to do a wine tour of some kind. There’s so many vineyards around here it would be silly not to. And I kind of wanted to do a day trip to Arles, maybe another to Aix-en-Provence, but there’s also the Musée de Petit Palais here in Avignon that I haven’t been to yet which is meant to be beautiful? It’s another UNESCO World Heritage Site, and I’m pretty sure you’d enjoy it too?”

Quinn just took another sip of his wine, allowing her enthusiastic words to wash over him. Whatever she wanted to do, he was here for it. And he couldn’t wait.

~~~

Renée felt like she was floating through a dream. She’d honestly expected Quinn to want nothing to do with her after she admitted knowing who he was, but the fact that he was still willing to spend time with her? To indulge her in all the things she wanted to visit just because he didn’t really have much of a plan himself? Well she was absolutely going to take advantage of that, if it meant spending a little more time with the cutest boy she’d ever met.

For day four of Quinn’s trip, she took him on a Rhône Valley wine tour, just as she’d promised, the two of the tasting all different wines including Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Rasteau, Gigondas, Vacqueyras, Cairanne, Tavel, Lirac, Visan, Sablet and Séguret, across four leading wine estates. It was a long day, long and so much fun, with only two couples joining them on the tour, so they’d had plenty of private time together to enjoy the day as well as pick up a couple of bottles to bring back to the apartment as well as a couple of bottles for home. The two of them had stumbled back to his apartment, barely remembering to pick up some bread and cheese to soak up some of the alcohol, which they’d decimated before passing out on his sofa.

Waking up on day five snuggled into Quinn’s side had been worth the hangover.

The two of them had agreed to keep the day as a quiet one, Renée having volunteered to go out to pick them up fresh bread and fruit and coffee after they’d both showered, spending most the morning reading in a comfortable silence before they ventured out for coffee in the same square as their first day, getting to know each other even more now that he could be more open with her. The two of them traed stories of ridiculous friends and hangovers of time past, before heading back to the little local restaurant they’d been to a couple of times already for dinner again, not wanting to break the happy chilled vibe they’d managed to curate over the day.

On day six, Quinn had surprised her with a trip out to the village of Gordes (with her driving, of course), to a spa day in the Airelles Spa. He’d apparently already booked all their treatments, paying the moment they arrived, and considering how fancy the place was, Renée couldn’t even imagine how much money he’d spent on her. But he’d stayed firm in his decision, a streak of confidence that sent her heartbeat fluttering just that little bit faster. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, but if he wanted to treat her to a day of relaxation, she wasn’t going to complain.

Alongside the typical swimming pool and steam room, both of them had a neck, shoulders and scalp massage, followed by a thermal mud mineral wrap, and finishing off with a ‘golden glow’ facial. It was honestly the most relaxed Renée had ever felt, but the fact that she did all of this alongside Quinn? With him looking like years of stress had been lifted off of him? She barely had the words to describe it. It didn’t help that he spent the day in bathing shorts and her in a one-piece swimming costume – his toned torso was distracting enough. The spa itself wasn’t that busy at all, so the two of them had essentially the whole place to themselves most the time, and Renée felt like she’d grown closer to him throughout the day more than she ever had to any friend, let alone any guy. It was a personal intimacy, to spend such time in platonic closeness, leaving her a bit overwhelmed with the whole situation, if she was being honest.

Quinn’s pleased smile while they had an early dinner in the village of Gordes kept her quiet though. If he was happy, she was happy.

It was on day seven that everything changed.

The two of them had strolled along the Rhône river in the morning with a cup of coffee each, taking in the scenery and taking their time, heading to the jardin du Rocher des Doms for a picnic. Quinn had brought along one of their bottles of wine from their wine tour, and they’d picked up a second bottle alongside some water, fresh bread, sharp cheese, grapes and strawberries, as well as a couple of chocolate studded pastries from the bakery, all carefully placed into Quinn’s rucksack with a blanket from Renée’s sofa. The two of them settled on a vacant patch of grass away from most other groups, giving them the illusion of privacy, Quinn pouring them a glass of their wine before raising his glass in a toast.

“To the most amazing holiday of my life. To meeting an amazing new friend. To another week of this bliss.”

Renée blushed lightly but clinked her glass against his, taking a sip of the wine that instantly sent her back to the day of their tour with its smooth taste. She cleared her throat, shaking her head to bring her back to the present, smiling at Quinn’s confused look.

“It’s nothing. Shall we eat?”

And the two of them did, a bite at a time, soft bread with sharp cheese with refreshing grapes, saving the strawberries and pastries for dessert, talking for the several hours it took them to finish all the food while they basked in the sunshine and light breeze, long enough to finish both bottles of wine as well. Long enough that Renée felt a little light-headed from the alcohol and the company, Quinn’s soft sweet eyes making her head swirl.

She must’ve stayed silent, caught in his gaze, for long enough that Quinn stopped talking too, staring at her eyes in confusion before his gaze flicked down to her mouth. Her breath hitched in her throat, Quinn’s lips parting in a shaky breath…before he leaned over and kissed her, a gentle hand cupping her face.

And then he quickly pulled away, eyes wide in a panic.

“Fuck, Renée, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…well, I did, but-”

Renée pressed a finger to his lips to stop his rambling, let out a shaky breath of her own. Quinn just froze, eyes still wide in panic, not daring to move.

“You kissed me. Why?” she managed to say, before removing her finger, feeling the phantom presence of his lips on her skin.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he huffed out a laugh.

“Because I wanted to? Because you’re beautiful and hilarious and so cool and it seemed like a good idea at the time?”

Oh wow. That…wasn’t what she was expecting. He thought she was beautiful?

“You think I’m beautiful?” she murmured.

“Yeah, I do.”

It was all Renée could do to lean forward and kiss him again. Quinn made a soft noise of surprise but didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hand sliding across her cheek to cup her cheek again. The kisses stayed soft and slow and sweet, only a hint of tongue, but they sent electricity thrumming through Renée’s veins all the same. Never had such an innocent embrace set her heart racing like this. Never. Never had such a sweet boy kissed her so sweetly.

She didn’t know how long they spent kissing, time losing all meaning as she lost herself in his lips, both of them breathless by the time she pulled away.

“Wow,” was all she could murmur, Quinn’s lips looking as swollen as hers felt.

Quinn just laughed, breathless and carefree, making her dart forward to press one last lingering kiss to his lips, earning a soft moan of protest from him when she sat backwards.

“We could, um…”

She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. He just smiled softly at her.

“We could what?” he prompted.

Her cheeks flushed with a light blush, feeling bold with her thoughts.

“I really liked kissing you. And I know we’ve only known each other a week…but we could fool around no strings for your last week here? There’s no harm in it, right? A little summer vacation fling?”

The moment the words left her lips, she felt mortified. She’d never even thought about doing something like this before, let alone suggesting it, and the fact that Quinn looked stunned didn’t help her feel any better about acting like a floozy.

“Yes.”

His breathy confirmation brought her out of her thoughts, and a smile spread across her face before she could stop herself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Quinn nodded, smiling back at her. “You’re right, there’s no harm in it. I really liked kissing you too.”

Well that was all she needed to hear. Renée leaned forward again, sliding her hand into his hair this time, letting the feeling of his curls between her fingers ground her as she kissed him slowly, unable to stop herself smiling as Quinn kissed her back with a happy sigh.

And that was how they spent the rest of their afternoon, shifting between slow kisses and sweet conversation, sipping the water they’d brought along too, before they eventually headed back to their apartments, changing quickly before heading out to dinner in the little local restaurant they’d been to most nights now, holding hands the entire walk. It felt a little surreal, if she was being honest, that a guy as cute as Quinn was happy to fool around with her when he could have anyone else he wanted. But there was no way she was taking back her crazy proposition now, not if she could have just a little bit of him before he left in seven days.

Spending a couple of hours making out on his sofa before she went back to her own apartment to sleep was the perfect way to end a perfect day.

~~~

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Not when she left his apartment last night after they made out for hours on his sofa, soft and sweet shifting to heated and intense. Not when he tried to sleep but couldn’t get the thought of the way her body felt straddling his waist, his hands desperate to move from where he’d planted them on her waist. Not when he woke up hard as a rock, needing no more than a few moments and a gasp of her name before he was dizzy all over again.

The moment that Renée’s surprising suggestion had reached his ears, he’d felt like he was in an alternative dimension. Things like this didn’t happen to him. Not in real life. Not to him.

And yet here he was, sitting beside her while she drove them out to Arles for a day trip, lips still buzzing where she’d kissed him good morning and passed him a cup of fresh coffee.

But it wasn’t just the physical aspects of it all that was consuming him, as incredible as it all was. He was falling for her, fast. He wasn’t stupid, as much as the hockey player stereotype usually proved. He knew enough about himself to know that Renée was exactly his type – beautiful, funny, smart, and so full of a genuine happy energy. Loved trying new things. Found the little stories of everything fascinating. Had excellent taste in wine. Was an amazing cook. Had a laugh that made his heartbeat race. It was insane how much he already liked her, and it felt stupid the more he thought about because he’d only known her a week. Just one week, seven days, and she had him caught hook, line, and sinker. He still wasn’t sure how he was lucky enough that she was even interested in fooling around with him but he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, as much as it was probably going to break his heart when he went back home.

But if this morning’s kiss was anything to go by, with the way that he was still floating on air right now, maybe it was exactly what he needed after all.

It only took 45 minutes for them to drive to Arles, Renée finding parking easily with the mid-week calm.

They headed straight to the Arènes d'Arles, the Roman amphitheatre, taking a tour of the incredible two tier structure as well as taking a bunch of photo of each other – as well as a couple of selfies for their own personal stashes. Unfortunately there wasn’t a concert that night – which, if he’d known there were concerts here, he would’ve planned better – and the bullfighting wasn’t on either, but it was still incredible to wander about the 2,500 year history.

The two of them also headed on the Van Gogh walk, Quinn having no idea that the artist had actually lived in Arles for 16 months in the late 19th century. What was incredibly endearing was Renée’s enthusiasm for spotting the locations referenced in his art work, including the Quai du Rhône for the starry night, and Lamartine Square for the yellow house. The walk took them several hours but by the time they’d reached the end of it, Renée was practically giddy, and that alone was worth it for Quinn.

After a lunch stop, the two of them headed to the Cloître Saint-Trophime, another incredible UNESCO World Heritage Site, exploring the cathedral and grounds at their usual easy pace, snapping a few photos – until an older lady approached them with a smile.

“Vous êtes un beau couple. Tu veux que je prenne une photo?”

Renée immediately blushed but nodded, handing her phone over. Quinn just looked at her, curiously.

“She says we’re a beautiful couple and asked if we would like a photo.”

Oh wow. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, sliding his arm over Renée’s shoulders as she wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into his body as the lady snapped a couple of photos of them. She returned Renée’s phone with an indulgent smile, Renée murmuring a soft merci beaucoup in thanks, and Quinn wasted no time in throwing an arm over her shoulder again to see her phone screen.

The first photo took his breath away, with how easy they looked together. The old lady was right – they did look like a beautiful couple.

“You look so happy,” Renée said softly, smiling up at him.

“I am happy,” he said honestly.

Her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked back down at her phone, but he knew that she was smiling.

“I promise not to post it anywhere,” she said quickly.

Because there was no denying that this wasn’t just friendship in that photo.

“Okay, sure. Can you still send it to me though?” he asked hopefully.

She giggled but nodded, sending the photo by airdrop before leaning up to give him a quick kiss. As she pulled away, Quinn felt just as breathless as he did the first time he kissed her. It was getting harder and harder to deny his feelings, that was for sure.

The two of them spent a little more time in Arles before driving back to Avignon, going to their separate apartments to freshen up before heading out for dinner. Typically, they headed out to their little local restaurant – hell, they were practically regulars at this point – and their usual waitress showed them to a table in the corner.

The waitress murmured something to Renée after she handed them their menus, making Renée blush deeply and laugh as she walked away, to which Quinn just looked at her curiously.

“Maude was teasing us. Said it’s about that that we admitted our romance,” Renée admitted.

Well damn. First the old lady in Arles and now their waitress? Did they really look that natural together?

“Alors.”

Quinn startled slightly at Maude’s voice, but let out a huff of laughter as she presented a bottle of ruby red wine. The waitress rattled off a stream of fast French, to which Renée laughed again, shaking her head.

“She said the wine is free for new lovers.”

Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, earning laughter from both women.

“Merci pour le vin,” he stumbled out, his translation hesitant.

But Maude just beamed, patting his shoulder.

“Bien!”

He slumped back in his chair, letting Renée order for them both, knowing that she could see he was a little overwhelmed and also knowing the food he liked by now. It was easy. Too easy. Why was he getting himself so worked up about this?

“Cheers, Quinn.”

Renée’s soft words brought him out of his thoughts, seeing her raising a glass of the wine to him and that she’d already poured him a glass too, so he quickly lifted his glass with a smile and clinked it gently against hers.

It was very good wine.

True to form, the two of them spent a couple of hours eating, talking, and drinking, just basking in each other’s company, and Quinn tried not to let himself overthink things. No strings, easy fun. He could roll with this.

It was late when the two of them ended up back in his apartment, kissing the moment that Quinn shut the door behind them, and they stumbled over to the sofa without breaking apart. It was consuming, heated, passionate like never before, and Quinn found himself sliding his hands under her clothes, helping her undress as she helped him undress too. It wasn’t until they were down to their underwear that Quinn pulled away to take a ragged breath, eyes roving over her tanned skin bathed in the moonlight that streamed in through the windows.

“Bed?” he asked, more than a little breathless as his hands clutched at her bare waist.

“Yes, take me to bed Quinn,” she murmured.

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

~~~

The next few days felt like they flew by. Renée tried to hold onto each moment, to savour each memory, but when each moment was just as happy as the last, it was hard to distinguish them. Throughout days nine, ten, eleven, and twelve of Quinn’s trip, Renée tried hard to make sure that he experienced as many local things as well as a couple of more exciting trips, to keep his vacation as full as possible.

In Avignon, the two of them visited the Musée de Petit Palais, another UNESCO World Heritage Site, home to an incredible collection of paintings from the 13th to the 15th century. They also went to the Cathédrale Notre-Dame-des-Doms. It was right next to the Palais des Papes, where they’d visited earlier in their trip, and well worth the visit – the frescoes, marble statues and golden statue of the Virgin Mary in the interior were incredible, and another moment for a few photos of the two of them.

Those were mostly for Renée’s memories at this point. She wasn’t going to lie to herself.

As a fun activity, Renée booked them on a lunchtime cruise along The Rhône, listening to the tour guide give them a fascinating description from the water’s edge, murmuring the translation into Quinn’s ear as they went – a perfect excuse to sit practically in his lap, although she didn’t think he minded with the way he had his arm wrapped tight around her waist.

They also took a day trip to Aix-en-Provence, just as she’d asked for.  It took them just over an hour to drive, easy in the morning traffic, and she felt lost in the incredible art history, grateful to Quinn for indulging her yet again. They visited the art studio of Cezanne, as well as his works displayed in the Granet Museum. The museum also displayed works by Picasso, Rembrandt, and Ingres, all of which Quinn listened to her ramble about with avid attention. They had an extended coffee break in Cours Mirabeau, visited the beautiful Vendôme Pavilion, before eating a romantic candlelit dinner looking over a busy square, all light up with twinkling lights.

Her favourite day though? A trip to the local farmer’s market again, when they’d eaten fresh peaches and kissed the slick juice off each other’s lips.

All of this mixed with intense incredible sex every single day only led Renée to one conclusion. She was falling in love with him, slowly but surely, and she felt so damn stupid when she realised it, lying naked in his arms while Quinn snored quietly next to her. How could she not feel stupid? He was leaving soon – he only had two days left in Avignon – and there was nothing she could do about it. She was the one that suggested no strings fun after all, although she should’ve known that would’ve come back around to bite her in the ass.

Nothing good could come from this realisation. Nothing at all.

But she would be damned if she wasn’t going to live these final two days with him to the fullest.

~~~

Quinn woke up on his penultimate day with a heavy heart. Not because of the beautiful woman lying naked in his arms, no. Well…no, not really. It wasn’t her fault, after all, that he was falling in love with her. She’d never asked for that, nothing more than fooling around, but here he was thinking like a fool anyway.

That didn’t stop him from kissing the sleepy smile off her face when she woke up, happily making her cry out his name with his face between her thighs too.

After the two of them had showered separately in their own apartments, because he knew damn well that he couldn’t keep his hands off her at this point, they headed out to central Avignon for their final day trip. Today, they were heading to Sault, to the lavender fields, as part of a half day trip with a private guide. Apparently the trips were for a maximum of eight people in a minibus, but there was only one other couple booked in for their trip today, so Quinn was buzzing about having more private time with Renée.

The ride from Avignon only took one hour, but before they got to the fields, they made a stop at the lavender distillery Arôma Plantes. Alongside a little museum, where they learnt about lavender oil production, there was a little store, where Quinn happily bought a ton of gifts for his family to take home with him, and Renée bought her own fair share too. When they finally arrived at the fields though, Quinn had to admit he was a little breathtaken with the vast beauty. The bright colours alone were stunning, and he made sure to take a ton of candid photos of Renée as well as a couple of posed shots, letting her do the same for him before the tour guide took a few photos of them together, getting all the angles in to make them laugh.

The laughing photos ended up being his favourite of the whole selection, if he was being honest.

They visited three fields in total for about 15-20 minutes each, before heading to the village of Sault for a lunch stop, sharing a bottle of wine between them (with the other couple doing the same). By the time they headed back to Avignon, Quinn had a steady buzz from the wine as well as the rush of the day, and it was easy to fall back into his bed with Renée for the afternoon, only leaving to shower separately when his stomach rumbled with hunger.

They changed apartments for dinner, Renée having a better kitchen set-up than he did. He watched her cook for them in a comfortable silence, sipping water to clear his head as much as was possible, smiling at her every time she caught him watching her.

“I’m really going to miss you.”

There it was. He’d blurted it out without meaning to, cringing at the raw honesty in his voice. Renée looked more than a little stunned, turning the stop top burner to low before looking at him properly.

“You’re going to miss me?” she said hesitantly, “Or you’re going to miss this time in Provence?”

“You. Both. I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense when I say it out loud, but I can’t believe how quickly these past two weeks have flown by? If I could live in a bubble with you here in Avignon, time standing still and nothing changing, then I would,” he said, laughing a little incredulously.

Renée smiled sadly. “The time has flown by. Avignon with you will always hold a place in my heart. I’m going to miss it too.”

“You’re leaving Avignon?” he asked, confused.

She seemed to hesitate slightly, maybe a little confused, before she nodded.

“I’m leaving France entirely soon – I’m due to head home myself. My Schengen 90 day visa runs out at the end of May.”

Her whole trip was ending?

She was heading home too?

She was heading back to Canada, back to Montreal?

Why hadn’t she said anything these past few days? Why had they only focused on him, only spoken about his trip ending?

While he got lost in his thoughts, Renée finished off cooking, and the two of them sat down to eat in silence. As always, the food was incredible, and he made sure to let her know that, earning the usual modest blush, and they finished off a bottle of wine on the sofa, ending the evening with the slow, sweet kisses that had gotten him lost in her nearly a week ago.

But rather than falling into bed together like they had done all week, Quinn had left for his own apartment with a goodnight kiss, admitting he hadn’t yet packed his suitcase at all, and he didn’t want to rush that tomorrow.

Renée had laughed at him, teasing smile making him blush, but she waved him off with another kiss that left him conflicted. Because while it was true he had yet to pack his suitcase, he also wanted to think.

She lied about leaving Avignon. Why?

No, not lied. Just omitted. He knew she was over on a visa, but it hadn’t occurred to him the timings of her trip and she hadn’t stated it. Why?

Maybe she just was protecting herself. But why?

The more he thought about it, the more overwhelmed he felt, until he was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Why did he care so much? Why had he let her get into his head like this? Why had he allowed her to consume his heart like this?

Because that what it was, wasn’t it? He was falling in love with her, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, and now there was a slightest fraction of a chance that this didn’t have to end because they would be in the same country for most of the year.

It was the tiniest sliver of a chance but as soon as he thought of it, his greedy heart clutched onto the hope with all of its strength.

This season had been one of the hardest, both physically and mentally, and he’d taken this trip to make a change in his life. A change he had so desperately needed. Was Renée this change? Had she changed him? Meeting her was the first thing that made him feel good in a long time. He was damn sure that he wouldn’t have had nearly as good a time in Avignon if it hadn’t been for her. He knew that, down to his bones.

He had to tell her how he felt. It would be stupid not to, with him leaving tomorrow. At least that way he would know for certain. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right? He needed to take this shot, for his own heart’s sake.

Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning he would tell her, and he could only hope for the best.

~~~

Renée woke up to the sound of a series of rapid knocks on her front door, jolting her from her sleep and her empty bed. Going to bed had been strange last night, without Quinn by her side as she’d had all week, but she knew that was stupid to hold onto. He was leaving today, after all, so she needed to let go of him. She wouldn’t survive otherwise.

Still the knocking continued, so she got up with a yawn, shuffling to open the door, only to reveal Quinn standing there far earlier than normal. He was fully dressed, holding two coffees in a holder with a bag of pastries under one arm…and a bouquet of flowers?

The most beautiful colourful fresh flowers that she’d ever seen too.

“Are these for me?”

Damn her lack of caffeine.

Quinn huffed out a laugh, smiling fondly down at her, making traitorous butterflies swirl in her stomach.

“Yes, they are. Can I come in?” he asked.

She just nodded, still a little stunned at the beautiful bouquet, Quinn heading straight for the kitchen to put them in a vase, leaving the coffees and pastries on the kitchen island as he did so.

“Quinn…” she murmured, prompting as he put the flowers on the island next to them.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, before he moved to stand next to her and cleared his throat.

“I’m leaving today. I’m leaving and I can’t change it, so I need to tell you before I regret not saying anything,” he said softly.

“Tell me what?” she asked, dangerous hope starting to seep into her heart.

“That I’m falling in love with you.”

Her lips parted in surprise as her heart felt like it skipped beat. He was falling in love with her?

“Renée Moreau…you’ve made me feel alive for the first time in a long time. Every time I look at you my heart wants to sing and I don’t want that to end. These two weeks have been the most amazing weeks of my life, especially this past week, and I had to tell you how I feel before I burst. Is there even the slightest chance that you feel the same for me too?”

His words washed over her in an emotional wave that she had not been expecting. It was the last thing she’d been expecting, if she was being honest, never daring to hope that he was falling for her like she was falling for him. She felt stunned, shocked into silence as pure giddiness rushed through her. He felt the same? He didn’t want this to end either?

Just as Quinn’s face started to shutter in her silence, Renée lurched forward and kissed him, cupping his face with both hands. Quinn moaned softly, kissing her back with an intensity that left her breathless, but she didn’t dare pull away from him until she started to feel dizzy, resting her forehead against his shoulder with shaky breaths. This was real. He was falling in love with her too. She wasn’t dreaming.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Renée. I admire your free spirit, and your courage, so much. Just going out into the world to figure out what it is that you want rather than coasting along in repetitive nothingness? You’re inspiring, and you make me want to live life to its fullest, every day.”

She choked out a sob against his shirt, lifting her head to look up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I don’t feel brave. In fact sometimes I feel like I’m free falling because I have no destination, and it's terrifying. But you…you’re dedicated to your career, to your family, to everything you love. You commit, wholeheartedly, and you inspire me, Quinn Hughes. You make me want to set roots and figure out what settling down means. You’re special, in every single way, and I really hope I can make you see exactly how special you are.”

It was Quinn’s turn to have tears spring to his eyes, and he shook his head a little incredulously, like he couldn’t believe his good fortune, before he just leant down to kiss her again, the kiss staying slow and warm, toe-curling in its sweetness before he pulled away once more.

“I don’t know what the future will hold. I don’t know how we’ll make it work between Vancouver and Montreal. But I want to figure it out, if you want to too?”

“I do, I really do,” she said, smiling through happy tears.

After spending the rest of Quinn’s last day in bed together, Renée drove him to the train station that evening. He was going to take a taxi, same as his way into Avignon, but Renée insisted, needing that last kiss goodbye. As she watched him wheel his suitcase into the station, ready to head to Lyon and then back to Detroit, her heart was aching dreadfully.

But she would see him again, she knew it.

~~~

The beginning of August felt like the beginning of a new chapter for Quinn. Not just because his off-season training had left him feeling strong, ready for the new upcoming season, but because Renée was arriving today to spend two weeks with him at his family’s house in Michigan. She was coming to meet his family, to finally see them in person, and he was so excited and nervous that he felt like he was going to burst.

The two of them had video called every single day since he arrived home, when she was still in Avignon as well as when she arrived home in Montreal, him meeting her parents over video call and her talking to his parents and Jack and Luke on the calls too – but now they would actually be meeting her in person. It was different. It was real. He wanted to scream and shout and throw up and pass out, all at once, all in the best possible way.

From the moment he woke up, despite his mom encouraging him to keep on track with his morning work-out at the rink with Jack and Luke, he felt like he’d been waiting hours for her to arrive. And sure, his brothers had been ruthlessly teasing him for essentially sitting in the front bay window, but  his mom ushered them away as best as she could. He didn’t care though, they could tease him all they wanted – he had the most amazing girl who actually liked him coming to visit. Soon enough, a car pulled up outside the house. Renée had insisted on getting a taxi from the airport, insisting she needed the time to pull herself together – but that didn’t mean Quinn couldn’t rush out of the house to greet her away from his family.

“Hey, you’re here,” he murmured, clutching her hands.

“I’m here,” she grinned.

Quinn wasted no time in kissing her, just a few short soft kisses that he needed, before pulling her tightly into a hug, Renée burying her face in his neck, the two of them keeping that embrace for a few seconds before pulling back with shaky smiles.

“Ready to meet my family?” he asked, picking up her suitcase.

“I think so?” she said.

Her tone of voice made him pause slightly, before he caught her gaze over his shoulder, and there pressed against the window were his brothers, gawking at them like lions at a zoo. Quinn just rolled his eyes, tangling his fingers with hers as they walked towards the house. He couldn’t apologise for Jack and Luke enough, he knew that much.

Meeting his parents went smoothly, his mom immediately pulling her into a firm hug while his dad just looked proud. Jack and Luke were a little more chaotic, but his mom (and thank god for her) broke up the intensity by letting them head upstairs to get Renée settled while she finished off putting lunch together, dragging his brothers out with her to set the table.

He’d cleared a little space for her in his drawers and wardrobe, allowing her to unpack fully with a shy pleased smile, and Renée didn’t take long putting everything away, Quinn watching her from his bed with a soft smile.

She was really here.

She was in his room, she’d met his family, she was staying for two weeks.

Renée was really here.

“So…”

She straddled his lap as she spoke, Quinn instinctively wrapping his arms around her waist as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“So…” he repeated, teasing.

Renée laughed, kissing him slowly, sweetly, just enough tongue to send his head swirling as she pulled away.

“Remember how one of the conditions of my parents paying for me to go to France for three months was that I would work for my dad’s company when I got back?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah, I remember. What about it?” he asked, still a little stunned from the kiss.

“This is where I tell you that my dad has approved for me to run the social media accounts and minor marketing from a remote location,” she said, a little hesitant.

From a remote location.

Quinn inhaled sharply, lips parting slightly. “Does that mean…” he trailed off, eyes wide.

They’d talked about it, what the long distance between Vancouver and Montreal would mean, how difficult it would be. What possibilities they had. What the future could be.

Renée bit her bottom lip before nodding. “It means I can move to Vancouver with you. It means that my dad really likes you, and trusts that I can build a life with you while still doing my job. You know, if you still want me around.”

She would be coming to Vancouver with him. This was more than he could have hoped for after he’d met her, let alone after how last season ended. Was he dreaming? He didn’t think he was dreaming.

“Of course I do, are you kidding me? This is amazing!” Quinn grinned.

Renée laughed in delight as he pressed kisses all over her face, still giggling as he kissed her full on the lips, easily melting into the kiss as he slid a hand deep into her blonde curls, holding her tight to him. But then she broke away, resting her forehead against his for a breath or two before lifting her head to look into his eyes.

“You don’t think it’s too soon? We’ve only known each other twelve weeks! And we’ve only had two of those in each other’s company!” she said, hesitant.

No, he couldn’t have her hesitant. That was the last thing he wanted.

“My mom always says when you know, you know. And I know with you, Renée. Yeah, maybe it’s a little crazy, but it’s a good crazy? I don’t want to waste my life regretting something that has the potential to be amazing, just because it's not conventional,” he said seriously, smiling softly before that smile shifted to a frown, “You’re not having second thoughts, right?”

A lump rose in his throat at the passion in his own words, tears springing to his eyes as she shook her head.

“No second thoughts here at all. I just wanted to make sure – I had to say it. Because I know other people will be thinking it, even if they don’t say it too,” Renée said simply, smiling sadly at him.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks. You make me want to be brave, Renée, and I can’t wait to see where the future takes us,” Quinn said firmly, “Bring on the crazy and bring on these next two weeks.”

She just laughed, nodding again as a couple of tears escaped her eyes. Quinn’s smile softened as he wiped his thumb across a stray tear, before he leaned in to kiss her again. This was everything, right here. The girl of his dreams and the future he’d always hoped for.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to break up the reunion, but mom wants to feed your girlfriend, Q.”

Quinn groaned as he pulled away, thunking his head on her collarbone.

“Thank you Luke, we’ll be down in just a moment,” Renée called out, laughing.

“Don’t let Quinn keep you locked away – Jack’s up next and he has a water pistol ready to go.”

Renée just laughed harder as Quinn’s face shifted in a light scowl.

“Bye Luke!” he said firmly, listening to his little brother laugh with annoyance, waiting until he heard footsteps to look back at Renée. “Little brothers are the worst.”

“I don’t know, seems like they love you a lot,” she grinned.

His heart melted a little at her sweet words. Not a lot of people understood the dynamics between him and his brothers, how intense they were, how close they were, but just the fact that Renée accepted their crazy without question?

Well, it said a lot about how well she was going to fit into his family, maybe even forever. But that was something for the future. Baby steps first.

“Ready to head down for lunch?” he asked, helping her to her feet.

“I’m ready.”

~~~

Tagging a few people who might be interested in reading: @wyattjohnston @matthewtkachuk @senditcolton @fallinallincurls @cellythefloshie @sorryjustafangirl @jostyriggslover96 @typical-simplelove @ghostyjosty