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stayandot8 · 2 years

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The Listener

Genre: angsty-fluff i guess

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: reader has a bout of a depressive episode and pushes Chan away, Chan won't take that lying down

a/n: every angst I write turns fluffy again, I don't know why lol. I guess I don't like the idea of either him or the character in my mind that I'm writing about (me?) in pain for very long. I was also inspired by The Trick by AJR when I started this and then it developed into this but I still might use my original idea! Just some background

WC: 2.5k

“I don’t think you should come over tonight.” I never thought I would say those words to him, but they were out before I could stop them. Our phone calls were fewer and far between, Chan’s busy schedule playing more into my unconscious plan than I thought. But this particular phone call was happening more and more often lately.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. Just for a few minutes. Please?”

“I’ve got so much going on and I know you do too. Just focus on that, okay?” I hung up before he could see through my lies. If I saw him face to face, I wasn’t sure what I would do. I might not let him leave and that was just as dangerous as the alternative; the opposite. What I didn’t know was that he would come over anyway.

I was flickering through my TV from my spot on the couch, trying to find something, anything that would take my mind off of him. I was thinking about him more and more often nowadays, which scared me even more. See, here’s the thing. I have always been the type of person who didn’t need to depend on anyone. I made my own life for myself, I’m always the friend that people relied on and the person they went to for anything. When they needed advice, they would come to me. When they wanted to rant about something, I was the sounding board. If they wanted to gush, I was the one they ran to because they knew I would be happy for them, no matter what. I never had that person. I was just bothering them when I would need to return the favor or the subject would turn back to themselves and I found myself slipping into the familiar role of The Listener.

Now, there’s someone who wants to hear everything I have to say. Every question he asks, he wants the real answer, not the one he wants to hear. And this is new for me. Which is why it’s terrifying and also the reason I've avoided his calls, texts, and apartment for the last couple weeks.

I hear keys jingling from the hallway outside my apartment door along with heavy footsteps. I make nothing of it until the shuffles stop just outside my door and my door knob jiggles. My head snaps to the door as I sit up, ready to run for my bedroom. Then Chan bursts through my door, his eyes wild until he finds me. His brows raise in a slightly annoyed expression, his once excited posture now dropping.

“‘So much going on’, huh? Yeah, really seems like you’re busy these days.” He drops his bag by his shoes that he’s just taken off and casually strides halfway between me and the bedroom door my shoulders are leaning towards. He leans on the wall, crossing his arms as he sets his jaw and mouth in a tight line. “Care to explain?”

My shock that he had just showed up was quickly replaced by annoyance that he had in fact just showed up.

“You can’t just walk in here-” He held up a hand before I could finish.

“You gave me that right when you gave me your spare key. Now why did you lie to me?”

I sat back into the couch facing away from him and crossing my own arms, knowing he was right. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything so we just existed in silence for as long as he could stand.

“Okay, fine.” He left his place on the wall to sit on my coffee table in front of me, trapping me there unless I wanted to physically climb over him to run away from the eyes I knew could get me to do anything. The thought had occurred to me, what route I wanted to take when I eventually did run away from his gaze. My eyes roamed to every possible way I could go until he forced his finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. The annoyance in his face was still present but his eyes only held concern now. “Why did you lie? Did you really not want me here?” I bit my bottom lip to stop the trembling I knew was coming. I shut my eyes and shook his finger out from underneath my chin. When I opened them again, the concern was replaced by pure sadness.

“Just go home, Chris.” I stood, my stomach now directly in front of his face. He kept his eyes forward, now leaning his head against me.

“What did I do?” His voice cracked, breaking my resolve that much more. I looked to the ceiling, my lips trembling violently.

“You didn’t do anything.” My voice was just as quiet as his, breaking in its own way. I finally climbed my legs out from between his and made a break for my room, knowing he’d follow me. I shut my door just in time to see him stop in the hallway, three feet from my door and with that sad look still painting his features. I turned to slide my back down the door and sat, curled up on the floor and trying to keep my sobs from coming out too loud. I felt the door thud, him doing the same as me. I heard his voice through breaks in my cries.

“Are you trying to break up with me?” I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me.

“No.” I said quietly. I heard him sigh, his frustrations catching up to him.

“I can only ask so many times before I give up. I have my limits too.” I heard him get up after a long few minutes, his footsteps receding down my hallway. I never heard my front door close though, so I assumed he was still there but it was the ‘why’ I couldn’t put together. I crawled to the foot of my bed, not yet strong enough to climb onto it. I grabbed a random sweatshirt from the floor to act as a pillow to cry into. I didn’t know I had fallen asleep until the sound of snoring woke me out of a dazed half slumber. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a nose, followed by the rest of his face coming into sharper view as my vision focused. I wondered why he was still there, especially on the floor with me.

As I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I couldn’t help but notice the tears I had cried were causing the dryness that I was currently feeling there. My aching limbs were punishing me for trying to use them, rising from my place. I made sure not to wake up the sleeping boy next to me as I walked out to get some water from my kitchen.

Leaning against the sink gave me the space I needed to think clearly about what had just happened.

Do you want to break up with him?

No. Plain and simple.

Then why are you pushing him away?

Because I’m getting too close.

No, that’s not it and you know it.

But I don’t know the actual reason.

Yes you do.

Now tell him before you lose him.

That annoying voice in my head was always right. I imagined it was that voice that stopped me from doing all of the stupid things my brain had wanted to do throughout the course of our entire relationship. I downed two glasses before I got the courage to retrace my steps back to my room. I found Chan sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. He eyed the glass of water I had brought with me for him. My feet padded against my rug to where he was, silently handing him the glass. He took it but didn’t drink. I sat down on the edge, giving myself and him the space to think.

“Why did you stay?” I fiddled with the string of my hoodie, waiting for his answer. It was a full minute before he spoke.

“I thought you would need me.” He said simply. “So I slept on the couch but it was so uncomfortable so I checked in here to see if you were asleep. Then I found you on the floor. You looked so sad, I couldn’t leave you like that. You had this deep frown that I couldn’t ignore so I laid down beside you and watched you sleep. I was wondering if I was the one who caused it when I drifted off too.” He took a sip of his water. I did the 180 spin to face him but not meet his eye. I picked a spot on my blanket to stare at. He took several deep breaths.

“You can’t even look at me, can you?” My blanket was all I could see. It was the only stable thing I could focus on, a constant I could rely on to stay present in the conversation we were supposed to be having. But I wasn’t saying anything. Why am I not saying anything? I tried to move my mouth to speak but my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t move.

“Why are you pushing me away? What did I do?” The pain in his voice caused me to finally meet his gaze, the familiar tears coming back. I could only make out those eyes, begging me to tell him the truth. That closed off space in my heart was begging to be let free, just waiting for someone with the right-shaped key. And that person was sitting right in front of me, imploring me to let him in. To let him see everything, every ugly thing I had ever said or done, every thought I had he wanted to know. The moments I paused, running every possible way that this could go wrong in my brain, gave him the impression that I was closing him out again. His shoulders sagged in defeat, the sad look in his eyes hadn’t left since he crashed through my door. He looked to the floor, unsure of what to say next. He shifted his weight to leave, leave me behind. Suddenly everything went in slow motion. The worst possible situation was happening in front of my eyes, every good thing I had known was grabbing his belongings to desert me like they all did. My breathing came quicker, panic fully setting in. No. Not this one.

I grabbed his wrist before he got too far, forcing him to stop and turn back to me.

“Please don’t go.” I whispered. “I don’t know who I am without you.” My voice was so low I could barely hear it myself. I still wonder how he heard what I said but he did. I know he did because he kneeled in front of me.

“Every relationship I have ever had, romantic or platonic, I’ve had to pretend to be people that I thought they would want to love. I wanted to be loved so badly that I would transform into different people to please them. I would like things I don’t, do things I never thought I would do in the worst way just to make people happy. I’ve done that my whole life. Except… when I met you. I found that when you were asking me things, the only answer I could give was the real one. You would ask me what I wanted to do and for the first time, I wasn’t secretly thinking ‘what do I think he wants to do?’ You never made me feel like I had to be someone else. I feel like I’ve never met myself until I started hanging around you. And that terrifies me.”

“But why? Why does that scare you?”

“I thought you would notice that and push me away. So I did it first.”

He sighed, his shoulders drooping as he rested his forehead on my knees. That’s when the shaking started, the vulnerability of this moment starting to take over.

“I’ve always been the one people depend on. I’m not used to having someone like that. I feel like I can’t breathe without you. And I’ve never felt that before. I’ve never needed anyone like I need you. All the time, everywhere.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m the same way. I have seven kids that I have to be strong for. That I have to be stable for. And you keep me stable. I have millions of people who rely on me because I bring them strength and comfort. I don’t know how, but I have to believe what they tell me. I feel like I put too much on your shoulders because I’m in this relationship with you. I know I can only be around so much and my attention has to be split between so many things. But you have been such a breath of refreshment every time. I can relax around you. I don’t have to be anyone else with you. I don’t have to put on a mask or be a professional or someone else. You make me appreciate the simple things about myself. You remind me that I don’t have to be Bang Chan all the time. With you, I can be Chris.” He stood only enough to be eye level with me, bringing his hands to catch my tears from falling all the way down. “Sometimes I think I’m a little too obsessed with you. I feel like I crowd you too much. I know I can be very clingy but it's just because I can’t possibly be around you enough.”

I chuckled through the remainder of the tears, simply for something else to do.

“I never had to depend on anyone before you. I was the one people depended on.”

“Even the dependable people need someone to lean on. The listeners need someone to listen to them.” The way he whispered it against my forehead sent a shiver down my body. “And now that we’ve established that, can we please sleep on something other than the floor? I know you’re exhausted.” I nodded, looking longingly at my pile of pillows, exhaustion taking over my limbs. I knew this conversation wasn’t over but for now, I just missed him too much. We both moved to our respective sides, his arms opening to invite me in. I let myself be pulled up into his chest, his warmth surrounding me as his chin rested on the top of my head.

“I missed you.” He sighed, his breath tickling my hair on my neck. I had no more words left so I just did the only thing I knew could express my feelings at that moment. I just hugged him tighter. My last thoughts before I drifted off were the ones that had been going through my head since I met him.

Please don’t leave me.

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pappydaddy · 3 years

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Enchanted ii (j.m)

a/n: hello lovelies ! whew! this blog has had a busy couple of weeks. with the makeover and editing going on, it's been insane. but it's not as insane as all the love and support i've been getting from you lovelies! ! i am absolutely loving all the interaction and energy you lovelies are giving me ! i also appreciate how you guys have stuck around with all the construction the blogs been going through, fear not though, the maintenance on my blog is finished !

anyway, to the fic. this is the highly requested second part to my jj fic enchanted ! you guys gave enchanted so much love and i honestly was going to do a part two anyway, but i am so glad you guys wanted a part two ! anywho, i hope you like it lovelies, i tried to keep it close to the energy of the first part as i could! ps: i also based a teeny tiny scene off favourite crime by olivia rodrigo :)!

pairing: jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

tv show/movie: outer banks

requested

taglist: @rottenstyx |

asked to be tagged in this fic: @skyfallgazingstar

part i | part ii - you're here!

au where the treasure hunt did not turn into what it is in the show. no bahamas, no ward/rafe psychopathy, etc. just a harmless, fun little adventure that brought sarah and kie together again.

warnings: very angsty, some negative thoughts, throw-up, fluff, happy-ending!

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif - * this gif has no correlation to the plot, but for some reason, tumblr won't show me any jj gifs so this is the only one i found that i haven't already used*

For yet another night, Y/N found her blinking up at the cloth of her canopy that draped over the top of her bed. All that was on her mind was the same thing that she thought of since the Cameron’s party a week ago - JJ Maybank. The blonde flirt seemed to infiltrate every crevice of her mind, body and soul; totally consuming her in just one night. She couldn’t help but wonder if he knew she had fallen madly in love with him. If he knew her entire night was bathed in twinking and sparkling fairy dust because of him. If he knew that she was up every night wishing that she also weighed heavy on his mind - keeping him awake.

No matter how many questions and thoughts she pondered, there were always two that stumped her - making her continuously circle back to them day-in and day-out. These were the questions that kept her up. Sure, she found herself contemplating if she even crossed JJ’s mind after that night, but these questions were the biggest of all. The ones that made her stomach churn and her brain want to bury itself into the world's biggest and darkest hole out of embarrassment and foolishness. Who does he love? Does he have someone else? She couldn’t help but imagine that he was lying in a bed not far from Y/N, his arms holding someone else close just like he held her that night. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Y/N found herself in that situation before. She just hoped JJ wasn’t just another taken boy flirting with her out of boredom and that he didn’t already have someone waiting on him to get home.

With a frustrated groan that sounded a bit more like a scream, Y/N flopped over aggressively, now laying on her side as she stared at the wall darkened by shadows. She felt so foolish thinking that JJ would ever make an appearance in her life again. What was she thinking? Her life wasn’t a movie or a book. Things like that never happen to her. She was destined for a life of perpetual sadness and loneliness - to be alone forever. Her self-pity didn’t last long until JJ had crept back into her mind, making her think of him instead of her doomed fate. His name echoed in her head, something she believed would happen forever until they are reunited once again. Almost like he was in the room, she could see him appear, standing by the wall she faced.

A knock on her door sounding through the deadly silent house startled her. Sitting up in her bed, she paused for a moment. It was almost midnight on a night her parents were out of town, nobody should be knocking on her door. Throwing her blankets off herself, she slid out of bed, pulling on a random sweater draped over the chair in her room. The house was dark and empty, making a fearful chill roll up her spine. The air-conditioner chilled the hardwood floors to feel like ice beneath her bare feet as she carried herself along the banister overlooking the grand living room.

She found herself stilling halfway down the spiral staircase, freezing at a thought. “What if it’s JJ?” She thought, her hand tightening around the oak banister. Hope blooming in her chest, she finally felt something other than dread and despair for the first time since the morning after the party. Rushing down the rest of the staircase, she stopped as the grand, solid oak doors loomed over her - blocking her from either a blissful dream or a doomed fate. Eying the peephole, she almost didn’t want to look through in case it wasn’t JJ. She wanted to believe he stood on the other side of the door, ready to pronounce his love for her, but she knew how unlikely it was. With her nails flying between her teeth, she chewed upon the nicely done manicure, not even realizing she was doing it as she paced.

If she didn’t open it and it was JJ, he would think she didn’t like him like she did, but if she opened it and it wasn’t JJ, she would be forever disappointed - spiralling into a bigger pit of anguish than she already was in. Taking a heaving breath in, she expelled the air out in a huge gust, turning to the door again. Letting her hand fall from her mouth, she stood there. She hoped with every fibre of her being that her and JJ’s story will continue and that night last week was not the end of everything. Her hand grasped the cold metal of the fancy door handle, the cold-shooting through her like an electric shock, making goosebumps rise all over her body, her skin uncomfortably tight. Ignoring it, she yanked the door open, letting the silver moonlight pour in like a flood. It was as if a huge stamp landed upon the world with the ink spelling out the words “the end” oozing into everything around her as it stamped her fate, marking the end of her fairytale night.

“Oh, hey Sarah and Kiara,” She greeted, disappointed to find the two girls instead of the boy she so desperately craved to see again. Her hand slid down off the handle in disappointment as she stepped aside, letting the two girls in. Softly closing the door with a click, she twisted the lock, bathing them in almost complete darkness, the light from the windows just barely missing them. “What are you guys doing here so late and in your pyjamas?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to protect her body from the blasting cold of the air-conditioning.

“We were having an impromptu sleepover and I know that Rose and Ward are off on that realtor retreat so I assumed your parents went too,” Sarah started to explain, peeling off the light sweater she had thrown on over her tank top. The nights now fell with the slightest bit of an autumn chill, marking the start of the end of summer. “So, we thought you could use some company!” She concluded, hanging her sweater on the coat rack by the door as Kiara worked on her jean jacket.

Y/N nodded, rolling her lips as she leaned against the door. She couldn’t help but feel majorly disappointed. It didn’t matter if she was glad that Sarah and Kiara were actually trying to maintain the friendship developed that night. She was glad to have two new friends (the only friends she has made so far), but she had built this image up in her head and she found herself not being able to cope with the crushing realization that she did not live in a fairytale. “I hope you don’t mind, Y/N.” Kiara spoke up, noting Y/N’s gloom-covered face and silence.

Looking up at the two girls who hovered by the coat rack, she was shocked and slightly embarrassed they had picked up on her pity party. “No, I don’t mind at all,” She clarified. “I just have something weighing on my mind, that’s all.” She shrugged, gesturing her pointer finger to her head as she lifted herself off the door.

“Oh, well, maybe we could talk about it! We could help you with whatever it is!” Sarah suggested eagerly, clapping her hands, the sound echoing throughout the darkened house. Y/N gulped, her eyes widening as she panicked - hoping the two girls didn’t notice it.

“We don’t have to do that,” Y/N waved her off in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. “I don’t want to worry you guys with what happens in my mind. It’s way too much for anyone to deal with.” She internally cringed, not wanting them to think she was crazy. Pulling a face, she took a second to question why she was the way she was.

“It’s no problem, we all have our fair share of issues to deal with.” Kiara reassured her as Y/N brushed past them, leading them up the stairs.

“I just don’t want you guys to worry about something I can figure out on my own,” She tried again, cursing the universe. All she wanted was for them not to figure out she was secretly pining for their friend for a week, completely obsessing over him as she imagined him as her prince or troubled bad boy with amazing dance skills (or wealthy gentry who professes his love in the pouring rain). “Besides, this is a sleepover and they are supposed to be fun.” She pressed.

She didn’t want to tell them how she imagined JJ striding across a vast field in a blouse and breeches, his open travelling cloak billowing in the breeze behind him as his blue eyes set on her frame and only her frame - determined to reach her. She would be absolutely mortified if they went back to JJ, telling him about how in love she was with him only to ask who they were talking about. She had to come to terms with the fact that JJ just didn’t remember her. He didn’t see her as his Elizabeth Bennet. She was just another stranger on the sidewalk to him, not the person he had full conversations with across the room with just his eyes. “Well, if you’re one-hundred percent sure.”

“I am, Kiara,” She confirmed as they reached her door that stood slightly ajar. “It’s nothing you guys should worry about. It’s not even that big of a deal,” She lied, tears stinging her eyes as the hammer fell on her delicate heart - effectively shattering it finally. “I was just wrapped up in my head about my silly little romance novels and fairytales.” She added in, trying to remind herself of the fact that those things were just that: silly. She wasn’t going to meet someone under the glow of the artificial light surrounding them and fall in love - well, she could, but the person sure as hell wouldn’t fall in love with her, that much was just proven.

“Call me Kie.” Kiara corrected the girl, sensing a change in subject was in order as she shared a look with Sarah. Y/N figured she hadn’t done a good enough job hiding what had made her so upset, but as long as she hadn’t actually told them point-blank, it was all conjecture and they couldn’t take it to JJ.

____

“I told you to make sure your no-good assistant sent her information to the right school,” She heard her mother boom from downstairs, pulling her from the world of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. She couldn’t even immerse herself into the actual novel without it being ruined in some way. Groaning, she stood from the fancy velvet chair positioned by the french doors leading to the terrace. She had lounged there for hours, reading as the sunbeams warmed her skin, protecting her from the air-conditioning. However, the slamming of the front door and her mother’s yelling destroyed her little bubble away from reality. “Honestly! I have no idea why you keep that assistant! She cannot make a simple appointment! She asked me to make an appointment to have lunch with you yesterday!” Ah, the infamous assistant argument - a classic in her house.

This was the same assistant who her father insisted had to be moved to Outer Banks with them. The same assistant who fails to transfer any calls from her or her mother to her father and the same one who apparently didn’t send Y/N’s papers to the right school. “I don’t see why we can’t just get her old school to fax this school her papers, then she can go to the Academy.” Her father defended, his deep voice vibrating through the floor as they argued in the living room, their voices echoing.

“Because the Academy doesn’t have any space left for her!” Her mother cried out in frustration, the sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Throwing her book on the couch, Y/N stumbled through her room, her bare feet thumping as she tripped over a curled-up corner of her rug.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Her father asked defensively as Y/N opened her door, trying her hardest not to let it squeak.

“Because we were in the same meeting, Todd,” Her mother exclaimed before heaving a sigh. “It’s fine. It will all be fine. She’ll do a semester at the public school then we’ll try to get her transferred to the Academy. I am sure with her marks they’ll accept her,” She mostly talked to herself, Y/N could tell by the way she was muttering and the sound of her heels pacing across the floor. “She’s already all set to go to the public school next week so that’s good, but I want that assistant fired!” She demanded, storming off, the sound of her heels clicking getting quieter and quieter as she walked into another room.

Y/N blinked, her head poking around her door, her hands gripping one of the double white doors, the tips of her fingers pressing against the expensive wood as she spotted her father sitting in the armchair in the far corner of the room her mother reserved for tea with Rose, his large hand thrown over his eyes as he sighed, deflating into the light pink cushion. Rolling her lips together, she doubted his stress from the fight with her mother. The stress was from having to let his assistant go. Nothing was a shock to her when it came to her parents. Infidelity was just another example of their paper-thin morals. The continuation of their marriage was just another ploy to get ahead in the hierarchical society.

A small, unmistakable pin sounded from her room, resounding through the silent house like a bullhorn. Jumping, she hid behind the one door she kept closed during her snooping to avoid her father catching her eavesdropping. Pressing her back flat against the door, she eyed her phone, the screen still bright from the text she had just received. The one time her phone wasn’t just on vibrate. Trying to make herself as light as she could, she glided over the polished floors, grabbing her phone from where it sat on top of her comforter. Looking at the notification from Kiara, she read the words ‘call me’. The two words made her feel like she was just struck with a mallet in the stomach.

“Call her,” She muttered in confusion, clutching her phone tighter as she made her way to the french doors she sat in front of earlier, slipping out into the much warmer air. As the clock struck noon, the temperatures seemed to rise only to plummet at night, classic August weather, the most perfect weather in Y/N’s opinion. “Why would she need me to call her?” She questioned, her mind whirling as it spit out the worst-case scenarios - a nasty habit of hers.

Clicking Kiara’s contact information, she lifted the phone to her ear, shutting the french door softly behind her before her fingernails fell between her teeth. Pacing along her terrace, she listened to the ring of the call going through, anxiously waiting for Kiara to pick up. “Y/N!” Her cheerful voice sounded as if it was feet away from her phone, telling her Kiara had put her on speaker.

“Kie! You scared me, I thought something happened!” Y/N scolded, happy that nothing horrible had happened, but still not happy that her friend made her think someone had been seriously injured.

“Sorry, I probably could have worded that better,” She apologized as some people muttered in the background of the call, whispering. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come out on John B’s boat with us! It’s one of the last nice days we can go swimming before school starts, it’s kind of a tradition of ours to go out around this time.” She explained the reason for the near heart attack.

Sitting down on the outdoor couch she had on her terrace, she gazed out into her yard, the marsh sparkling in the August sun. “I don’t know Kie,” She shrugged, knowing full well Kiara can’t see the gesture. “I only really know you and Sarah.” She reminded her. She didn’t want to impose on their friendship tradition. They were a close-knit group, squeezing someone else in could disturb the balance, creating ripples in the group that turned into waves.

“Nonsense,” She cried over the phone and Y/N could visualize her waving her off with a flick of her hand. “John B and Pope would love to meet you, and JJ is going to be there! I’m pretty sure I saw you two talking at the Cameron’s party the other week.” At the mention of JJ’s name, both butterflies and doom swirled in her stomach. Sitting up straighter, she pressed her hand to her stomach, feeling slightly nauseous from the news. Going somewhere with JJ could go either way. He could look at her and not know her. He could look at her and immediately grab her, kissing her senseless before telling her he had imagined doing that since the party. If there was some way she could tell, she wouldn’t mind this position, but there was no way to tell. They had no other interactions. It was as if that night had never happened.

“Uh-” She tried to speak, but Kiara cut her off.

“Nope, I’ve decided for you, you’re coming.” With that, Kiara hung up, leaving Y/N sitting there, a looming sense of a grim fate hanging over her like her own personal storm cloud. Standing, her feet carried her stunned body back into her room. She was either marching herself to her funeral or to the best day of her life - either way, she only came too when she was walking to the end of her driveway with her bag of sunscreen, a towel, and a bathing suit - Sarah sitting in one of her dad’s cars, waiting to take her.

“I am so excited you’re coming out on the boat with us, you’re gonna love it,” Sarah gushed as she drove down the road. Y/N hummed half-mindedly, too wrapped up in her head to pay attention to Sarah. Instead, she was memorizing the way back to her house in case she needed a quick escape. Sarah continued to talk, the words floating in one of Y/N’s ears and out the other like a smooth stream. “And we’re here! Unfortunately, while you were daydreaming, Kiara texted me telling me JJ had to leave,” She told her, gathering her stuff from the cupholders. “Wonder where he had to go on such an important day.”

“Maybe he’s going to hang out with his girlfriend?” Y/N suggested, trying to hide the pain in her voice, hoping the slamming of her car door drowned it out enough for Sarah not to notice. She seemed not to as she scoffed, laughing as she closed her own door.

“JJ, a girlfriend,” She repeated, still laughing. “Not a chance, JJ has to be really wooed to settle down.” She informed her, making her heart sink as if tied to a cinder block and dropped into the ocean. Nodding, she swallowed thickly, muttering out a quick ‘good to know’ as she tried not to vomit.

“Y/N! You actually came, I’m glad my plan worked,” Kiara exclaimed, seeing the two girls walking to the dock the others stood on. “JJ had to leave, but he seemed really disappointed. He said, and I quote ‘it’s a shame, I would have liked to meet her’ which is weird because, a, it’s JJ, and b, I’m pretty sure I saw you guys talking at the party.” Kiara rambled before going back to digging in the cooler, making sure everything was in there.

“Must have been someone else, I never caught their name anyway.” She lied, regretting actually coming to this excursion as she was thrown back into her circle of angst and sadness. Of course, JJ didn’t remember her. What was memorable about her? Absolutely nothing apparently.

____

Burning. That was all she felt as she stood there, mostly hidden behind the display of roses. It was as if someone stabbed a scolding hot iron rod through her entire chest, her entire body burning as a repercussion. It was as if her world was on fire, melting around her, the flames licking at her skin. There he was. The first time she was seeing him outside of the classroom, he stood there with some other girl. The pair of them standing at the counter, talking lowly, their heads bowed towards each other as they browsed the booklet.

She couldn’t seem to swallow, a blockage forming in her throat as her eyes felt like they were ignited into flames. Maybe everyone was wrong. Maybe JJ was the type to settle down easily. Or maybe she had wooed him. Wooed him more than he had wooed Y/N. Maybe she had swept him off his feet. Y/N felt sick as she watched them, their hands brushing together ever so slightly. It was almost as if their fingers itched to hold each other just like Y/N’s itched to hold JJ’s again.

Forcing the bile back down her throat, she rushed towards the door of the florist, leaving her mother who didn’t even realize she was leaving, too worried about what flower she should get for the centrepiece of the table. Was that night all a lie? Did he really have someone waiting for him as he danced with her? Did he come to her knowing that he could easily get her to love him? Did he even know she loved him? Part of her wished he did know she loved him so horribly it hurt her. Maybe that was his plan all along. Go home to his girlfriend and tell her he had danced with someone, making her fall head over heels as a sick joke for them to laugh at. Maybe it was payback and Y/N was his willing accomplice.

She hunched over, her hands on her knees as she waited for the bile she couldn’t keep down to come up. Groaning, her stomach twisted more as she thought about it. She was ashamed to say that she hoped she was his favourite crime if that was his girlfriend. She hoped that he would look back at all the girls he flirted with only to laugh about on the way home to her and he found the night spent with her was the best. It made her sick. She was hoping that even if that was his girlfriend, he found himself longing for another crime committed with her. She hoped that he found himself thinking about her instead of that girl.

Finally, the bile came up, burning her throat as it splattered into the dirt of the alley between the florist and a clothing shop. Gasping, she stared down at the greenish-brown liquid, trying to keep the rest down as she breathed. “Oh my god,” She whispered, tears leaking down her face as she realized more. She wasn’t the princess in this story. She was the dirty, evil girl created to ruin the happy couple. She was the villain. She was never the main character. She was never Mr. Darcy, she wasn’t even Elizabeth. She was Mr. Collins or even Mr. Wickham. The nuisance who almost got in the way of the marriage. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, her hands flying to cover her face as she leaned against the brick wall of the clothing shop behind her. The worst part of it all was that she would do it all again knowing full well he had a girlfriend. She would gladly commit the crime again as long as it was JJ she was doing it with. As long as it was his cerulean eyes were the ones staring back at her.

“Y/N? What are you doing in the alley-” Her mother trailed off, looking at the puddle of alkaline fluid her daughter had just thrown up then back at her. “You were sick,” She noted, walking over to Y/N, setting the basket of flowers she held on the ground by their feet, her hand feeling Y/N’s forehead. “You’re not warm,” She hummed, peering down at Y/N with furrowed brows. “This is about romantic things, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Y/N whispered, her eyes closing shamefully. She wasn’t sure how her mother knew that, but she didn’t question it.

“Well, don’t worry dear, I can help you with that, trust me.” Her mother reassured her, her arm wrapping around Y/N’s shoulders, her other hand grabbing the basket, leading her out of the alley and to the car. Y/N feet seemed to drag along the ground as her mother supported most of her weight, the world spinning as she battled the bile threatening to rise once again. As her mother shoved her limp body into the passenger seat of the SUV, she was hit by the realization that she had been wrong earlier. The end of their storyline wasn’t when she opened the door to reveal Sarah and Kiara; the end was now. He had his happy ending and she was stuck with the shitty ending. She most likely won’t even get to have her new friends, how could she hang out with them when all they did was hang around the blue-eyed boy who managed to both light her heart up like a Christmas tree and smash it into a million pieces - all within three weeks.

____

Sniffling, Y/N rubbed her nose furiously with a kleenex as she angrily watched Johnny and Baby dance in his cabin, her lips tracing along his strong neck, his hands on her hips, pulling her flush against him. “Oh come on, like that would ever happen in real life,” She complained, tossing the crumpled-up tissue on the coffee table with the rest of them. “This sucks!” She cried, uncovering the remote from the pile of tissues as Johnny pulled Baby’s shirt off, his hands skimming over her smooth skin. The scene was cut off as Y/N slammed her thumb into the stop button, making the blue DVD screen glow into the darkened living room.

“Dirty Dancing didn’t even cheer you up,” Her mother asked, walking into the living room from the kitchen. Y/N huffed, looking over her shoulder at her mother as she gathered things. “That’s odd, it always worked in the past with this sort of thing,” She remarked, pausing her movements as she ruffled through the drawer of the writing desk that was filled with takeout menus. “It’s also one of your favourites.”

“Yeah, well it’s stupid. I don’t see why I loved it so much before,” Y/N grumbled, kicking her feet, messing up the blanket she had balled herself up in. Groaning, she regretted doing that now that she had to fix the blanket yet again. Her mother simply ignored her, grabbing the menu she was looking for and walking over to her. “In real life, Johnny isn’t going to come back and Baby will be stuck in the corner forever. Baby will live her entire life in the corner watching everyone else find someone because she is only destined for unhappy endings-”

“You think you’re going to live your life in the corner because that Waiter Boy from the party hasn’t come to pull you out,” Her mother theorized with a sigh, her hand falling onto Y/N’s blanket-covered knee. Raising an eyebrow at the hand, Y/N lifted her eyes to look at her mother - confused on how she managed to figure that out and why she was comforting her. She would assume her mother wouldn’t want her dating someone who had to cater parties. “Hun, believe me when I say this isn’t the end. You will find your Johnny-”

“I’ve been comparing him to Elizabeth Bennet in my head,” She sniffled out a correction, making her mother give her an odd look. “He bewitched me mind, body, and soul just like Elizabeth did to Mr. Darcy.” She explained with another sniffle.

Letting out a sigh of understanding, her mother nodded, patting her knee. “Then you’ll find your Johnny who is also your Elizabeth,” She corrected herself. “But never give up on them before they can come back. Don’t you think Baby was thinking she would never see Johnny again,” She posed the question, earning an odd look from her daughter. Brushing off the judging eyes, she continued. “But look, Johnny came back to her. And Elizabeth turned Mr. Darcy down the first time he professed his love for her, but he came back too.”

“So you’re saying, I might still have a chance with JJ?” Y/N asked, confused as to what her mother was trying to convey to her.

“If JJ is that waiter from the party, yeah, I guess. He did look at you like you were Baby or Elizabeth,” She agreed, blinking rapidly as she called her daughter Mr. Darcy in this situation. She never imagined herself having to call her daughter a stuffy rich man who was as grumpy as he was anti-social, but here she was. “But my main point was that sometimes you think your story is over with someone, but it’s not. You owe it to yourself not to give up on your Johnny. Believe me, you’ll regret it your whole life.”

“How do you know-” Y/N tried to ask, but her mother stood up, effectively cutting off the conversation.

“Well, I’m going to go order this pizza for us and you watch the rest of Dirty Dancing, then we’ll load up Pride & Prejudice next, maybe that will give you enough of a push to go after him for a change.” She remarked, her heels clicking as she strode off elsewhere in the house. Letting her mother’s words sink into her mind, Y/N licked her lips, softly pushing the play button once again, letting the scene from earlier play on.

Just as Baby and Johnny’s lips meet for a sweet, overdue kiss, a knock sounded over the soft music of the scene. Not even bothering to pause the movie, Y/N stood. The soft blanket fell from her shoulders, pooling on the couch behind her as her slippers scuffed against the hardwood. Humming to the music, she pulled the door open roughly, the shine of the sun that still stood tall in the sky burned her eyes, making her squint. She had just spent hours in the living room with all the blinds pulled shut and the lights off, the only light coming from the TV and now she was being bombarded by full-on sunlight.

Slowly, her eyes relaxed, the burning subsiding, allowing her to get a look at who stood on the other side of the door. Eyes widening and jaw-dropping, she swore her heart had stopped for a second before jumping with joy. “JJ?” She whispered, not believing her eyes. Sure, she saw the tall blonde standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, but was it really him or an insanely realistic daydream fuelled by the influence of Dirty Dancing? She had no way to tell other than to ask.

“Uh, hi,” JJ smiled nervously making Y/N swoon, her knees nearly giving out on her. If this wasn’t a daydream and he really was there being all nervous, that means she had bewitched the flirtatious JJ. All Kiara and Sarah can talk about when discussing JJ was how much of a flirt and a womanizer he was. But yet, here he stood (in a possible reality) with his hand clutching the stems of twelve of her favourite fall flowers and a nervous smile on his face. He cleared his throat as she continued to gawk at him, too shocked to say anything. “So, watching some Dirty Dancing, huh?” He asked, looking into the house at the TV, seeing Johnny and Baby press their lips together as the scene changed.

“Yeah, yeah, um,” She trailed off, taking in his appearance. With furrowed brows, she looked down at his feet. “Are those Sperry Boat Shoes?” She questioned, looking closer at the light-coloured boat shoes before looking at the rest of his outfit. Clad in capris and a button-down, she almost felt like laughing at him. He looked so uncomfortable and awkward that it was almost as if he were a stereotypical high school poindexter.

“Yeah, they are, Sarah stole them from Rafe for me,” He confirmed, looking down at his shoes himself. “Turns out, he has way more than ten pairs of Sperrys in his closet.” He commented, looking back up at her as he referenced the night they last saw each other. Giving him another once over with a shake of her head, she eyed his gelled hair. It looked rock solid, even more tamed than what it was the night they met.

“Why are you dressed like this on my porch, JJ?” She asked, not understanding what was going on. Bashful, JJ looked at the flowers in his hand, pretending to smell them as he avoided answering the question. Flicking his eyes up without lifting his head, he hoped to see her distracted, forgetting about her question. Instead, he saw her crossing her arms over her chest, her slipper-covered toe tapping impatiently. Swallowing thickly, he lifted himself back to his full height, rolling his shoulders back as he prepared himself to lay it all on the line for her.

“I wanted to impress you. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed that night at the Cameron’s party-”

She interrupted him softly, her shoulders dancing as she shifted her arms, wrapping herself up as if to protect herself from being insecure and fragile. “The time to do that would have been a week after the party, not three, JJ.” She informed him, making his head slump shamefully.

“I know, I know, but you have to understand, Y/N,” He sympathized. “You’re this amazing girl who has this bright future ahead of you, you live in something I can only describe as a freaking palace. But all I am is a piece of trailer trash that managed to be completely and utterly enchanted by you and your effortless beauty,” He paused, his chest sinking into him as he stared into her eyes, hoping he was conveying everything adequately. “You’re like a literal princess and I’m just some court jester who wishes he could be a prince so he could be enough for her,” He licked his lips as he prepared himself to continue on. Y/N blinked, watching as he worked himself up. “I knew I couldn’t show up like myself if I wanted to have even the slightest chance with you. You deserve someone who knows all the fancy crap like what kind of flowers to get in the fall or what kind of pants go with what shirt. But most importantly, you deserve someone who can get you flowers without having to pick up extra shifts.” He added the last bit shamefully, gesturing to the bunch of purple asters he held, the light pink wrap around them wrinkling as he hit it by accident.

The corner of Y/N’s mouth twitched slightly as a smile grew on her face. “I enchanted you?” She asked quietly, looking up at him bashfully.

“Mind and soul.” He breathed out with a nod, extending the flowers to her. She took them, gazing down at the bouquet in her hand. The vibrant purple shot out at her as she took in the flowers’ beauty. She was in awe of his words. Maybe she was Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.

“But, there are some things I don’t quite understand,” She paused, realizing something. “First of all, when I was invited to go out on the boat, you suddenly had to leave and you said that you would have loved to meet me, why did you lie and why did you leave?” She questioned, letting the flowers fall lightly against her chest, neither one of them noticing as Dirty Dancing continued to play in the background loudly.

“The Country Club had called me after Kiara had invited you, someone didn’t show for their shift and they offered it to me since I had asked for extra shifts. It was a double and I knew every penny counted if I wanted to make a good second impression with you.” He informed her. She suddenly felt bad for thinking he hadn’t remembered her. She never thought for a second that he could have just had to go to work.

“Okay, I can understand that, but what about the girl you were with in the flower shop today? You looked really close to her and not in a friendly way.” She brought up the scene she had witnessed earlier. The same scene that made her hurl in an alleyway. JJ furrowed his brows, glancing down at the flowers she held then back up at her, hoping she would understand what he was saying, Though she did, she still wanted an explanation, prompting her to quirk an eyebrow in response.

“That was Ashlynn, she used to be my lab partner last year. I asked her for help planning all this since she’s a hopeless romantic too,” He explained. “We’ve been meeting in our spare time with her girlfriend, Kiara, and Sarah to plan this,” He continued, pausing as he looked towards the hedge that separated the Cameron’s yard from Y/N’s. “In fact, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if they were spying on us from Sarah’s house right now.” He laughed as the hedge rustled unnaturally. Y/N found herself laughing as well. She felt stupid and ridiculous for jumping to conclusions about JJ.

Lifting the top of the flowers off her chest, she dipped her nose into them, buying her time as she tried to wrap her mind around everything. She had believed JJ was never going to show up, but yet, here he was - pulling her from the corner of self-pity and desperation she had shoved herself in, just like Johnny. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this to have a chance with me, JJ,” She informed him, lifting her face from the fragrant flowers, gesturing to his getup and the flowers. “You had a chance with me all along. You captivated me that night and never let me go. Day in and day out, you were the only thing on my mind. I wanted you to show up at my doorstep and tell me that I had enchanted you as much as you enchanted me. I wanted to know that you were walking home that night in a world of clouds and fairy dust too,” She paused, rolling her lips together as she took in his outfit once more. “I don’t need someone who cares more about appearances than actual feelings, I don’t want someone like Rafe Cameron. Most importantly, I just want you, JJ.” She concluded, practically opening her chest up and offering him her delicate heart.

“Man, I feel stupid now-” He laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at himself. “I look like some nerd off a Disney show!” He exclaimed, gesturing to himself wildly. Y/N snorted out a laugh making her cheeks burn uncomfortably, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Even now, she was managing to embarrass herself horribly in front of this poor boy. But, just like that night, JJ’s smile grew at the sound, his eyes gleaming in adoration as he gazed down at her. Looking at her with her red cheeks, messy hair, and pyjamas.

“You think you’re stupid,” She asked, trying to recover from her embarrassment. “I thought Ashlynn was your girlfriend when I saw you guys in the flower shop! I also convinced myself you didn’t remember me at all!” She cried out, her eyes wide as she questioned how she could ever believe that someone would just forget someone they spent a whole night with.

“I convinced myself I had to work myself into the ground and completely change myself when all I had to do was talk to you,” He argued, almost frustrated with himself that he had gotten all up in his head about talking to a girl - something he claimed to be an expert on. “I think it’s safe to say that I’m the stupid one here. You were just trying to make sense of the signals I was giving off.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/N surrendered, smiling shyly as she prepared to ask the next question. “Would you like to come in while I get these in a vase?” She nearly whispered, stepping to the side, creating space for him to walk through the open door.

“I thought you would never ask,” He smiled that damn smile, almost making her fall over as he passed her, walking into the house, looking amazed as he took in the interior. “Could you maybe text Sarah to bring my clothes and stuff over? I really cannot stand these shoes or pants. I would do it, but she took my phone when I tried to put it in these pockets-” He gestured to the tight pockets on his capri pants. “Apparently these pockets aren’t functional.” He pried his thumb into it, trying to pull the pocket out, but there was no give whatsoever.

Y/N laughed, nodding as she grabbed her phone from the suddenly cleaned coffee table. “Of course, JJ, I figured you would be itching to get out of those.” She agreed, clicking her home button. She furrowed her brows when she saw a notification from her mom. ‘I snuck out the backdoor, the pizza is on its way and money is on the island in the kitchen. Enjoy life out of the corner hun ;).’ The text read. Pressing her lips together, she couldn’t help but let the smile take over her face. It seemed to her that the enchanting tale of JJ and Y/N didn’t have an ending in sight and her mother knew that from the start - way before either one of them.

"Hang on, I forgot something," JJ told her, catching her off guard as she started to type out a text to Sarah. Turning to face him, she opened her mouth to ask him, but his hand gripping her biceps firmly and his lips flattening against hers cut her off. Blinking in shock, it took her a second to melt into him, her body practically laying against him as their lips moulded together. Pulling away slightly, JJ whispered against her lips. "This." He answered her unspoken question before pressing his lips against hers rougher this time, his hands sliding up to cup her jaw. Angling her head up as her hands gripped the back of his restricting button up - once again feeling his back muscles tightening as he guided her jaw in the kiss with his thumbs and his own jaw, setting the pace.

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

To celebrate hitting 800 followers this week, I will be doing a fun little series of oneshots inspired by various songs from the incredible Taylor Swift (since she is the QUEEN of angsty/fluffy fic inspo)!

All I want you to do is to read through these categories, pick your character, category and song number, and send in your request!

Also—thank you all so much for your support/reads/reblogs/comments/follows/literally everything. I’m flabbergasted by the fact that 800+ of you like me/my content enough to press follow. genuinely. you’re all the best. i love you, truly. sincerely. forevaaa.

(Prompts crossed out have either been posted or are WIP)

Characters:

Pedro Pascal

Din Djarin

Javier Peña

Javi Gutierrez

Robb Stark

Sebastian Stan

Angst Inspo:

Last Kiss — “All that I know is I don’t know how to be something you miss. I never thought we’d have a last kiss.”

I Knew You Were Trouble — “I heard you moved on from whispers on the street. A new notch in your belt is all I’ll ever be.”

I Almost Do — “And I confess, babe, in my dreams you’re touching my face and asking me if I wanna try again with you. And I almost do.”

All Too Well — “You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine, and that made me want to die.”

Right Where You Left Me — “Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it. She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy, and you're sitting in front of me.”

Illicit Affairs — “And you wanna scream don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby": Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else.”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied — “And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis. People started talking, putting us through our paces. I knew there was no one in the world who could take it, I had a bad feeling.”

Back To December — “Because the last time you saw me is still burned in the back of your mind. You gave me roses and I left them there to die.”

The Way I Loved You — “I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain. It’s 2 a.m. and I’m cursing your name. So in love that I acted insane, and that’s the way I loved you.”

Sad Beautiful Tragic — “Distance, timing, breakdowns, fighting, silence, the train runs off it’s tracks. Kiss me, try to fix it, will you just try to listen? Hang up, give up, for the life of us we can’t get back.”

Fluff Inspo:

Begin Again — “And we walked down the block to my car and I almost brought him up, but you start to talk about the movies that your family watches every single Christmas, and I will talk about that and for the first time, what’s past is past.”

Ours — “Seems like there's always someone who disapproves. They'll judge it like they know about me and you, and the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do. The jury's out, but my choice is you.”

You Are In Love — “You kiss on sidewalks, you fight and you talk. One night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, “you're my best friend,”. And you knew what it was, he is in love.”

Gorgeous — “You should take it as a compliment that I'm talking to everyone here but you, and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in the darkened room.”

New Year’s Day — “There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor—you and me, forevermore.”

Lover — “We could let our friends crash in the living room—this is our place, we make the call. And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you. I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all.”

Paper Rings — “The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met. Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now I've read all of the books beside your bed.”

Love Story — “I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air. See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns, see you make your way through the crowd and say, "Hello".”

King Of My Heart — “Late in the night, the city's asleep. Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep. Change my priorities, the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury.”

Mine — “Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing, that's ever been mine.”

Smut Inspo:

Dress — “All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation. My hands are shaking from holding back from you.”

Cruel Summer — “Killing me slow, out the window. I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below. Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes. What doesn't kill me makes me want you more.”

Style — “So it goes…He can't keep his wild eyes on the road, mm. Takes me home, the lights are off, he's taking off his coat,”

Wildest Dreams — “I said, "No one has to know what we do". His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room, and his voice is a familiar sound. Nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now.”

False God — “Religion's in your lips, even if it's a false god we'd still worship. We might just get away with it, the altar is my hips. Even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love.”

‘Tis The Damn Season — “We could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, write this down: I'm stayin' at my parents' house and the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you in my hometown.”

Cowboy Like Me — “Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. With your boots beneath my bed forever is the sweetest con.”

Treacherous — “Put your lips close to mine as long as they don't touch. Out of focus, eye to eye, ‘til the gravity's too much. And I'll do anything you say if you say it with your hands, and I'd be smart to walk away but you're quicksand.”

I Think He Knows — “I think he knows his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it's mine.”

I Know Places — “Baby, I know places we won't be found and they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. 'Cause I, I know places we can hide.”

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasebana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @nightlockcornucopia @vanemando15 @vinaispunk (sorry if i forgot you, or your tag isn’t working!)

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña x reader #din djarin fic

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froggie-recs-fics · 3 years

Note

HELLO can i have drarry enemies to lovers fic recs 🤌 preferably not too angsty and maybe while they’re still in hogwarts!!! ty!! - jae 🤍

Of course my darling

I've split this up between Hogwarts-era and 8th-year era (and some post-War era fics that I included just because I love them so much)

** means its one of my all-time favorite fics :)

Hogwarts-Era

Timeshare by astolat @astolat (M, CNTW, 14K, Forced Bonding)

“It’s not for long,” Hermione said. “By the time we get back to Hogwarts, the Unfettering Brew will be ready.”

“Listen to you!” Ron said. “He’s got to get through a month with the Dursleys and a month at Malfoy Manor. With Draco Malfoy.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, because he hadn’t just spent the last week contemplating just how much more horrible his summer holidays were about to be than they’d ever been before.

**And I Know the Spark by firethesound @firethesound (E, Violence, 15K, Angst, Secret Relationship)

Review here

All Draco cares about is keeping Potter alive, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.

I know you said no angst but I'm going to ignore you just this once and rec this because it is *chefs kiss*

**Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173K, Forced Bonding)

Review here

I started to write this before HBP came out, and crossed my fingers that HBP wouldn't make it totally non-canon. No such luck, I'm afraid. This, therefore, is an AU story, where (SPOILER) still teaches (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn't try to (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn't succeed in (SPOILER), (SPOILER) never dated (SPOILER), and most importantly, (MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS) never happened.

Hee. I think I had a little too much fun writing the above ;)

So this starts around the end of September of an AU seventh year. I was also assuming that Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be in prison very long, what with his various connections with influential people, so he's here too.

8th-Year

Something I Don't Want to Stop by traintracks (E, 16K)

It's Harry and Draco's eighth year, the Houses have been all but demolished in favor of unity, and they're being forced to room together. How ever will they cope?

It takes 36 Questions to fall in love. by gnarf @gnarf (E, 14K)

After returning to Hogwarts for their 8th year, Harry and Draco can't seem to stop fighting, much to the irritation of staff and students alike. Their last fight escalated and Harry and Draco are forced to room together by a pretty angry Headmistress. They will have to stay in their new quarters until they overcome their differences.

But it wouldn’t be McGonagall if she didn’t have a plan. To help them achieve this goal (and to save everyone else from going crazy because of them) she gave them a charmed parchment that will ask a series of personal questions.

Over the next couple of days they'll learn much more about each other than they could ever have imagined.

**Hungry by birdsofshore (M, 24K, Forced Bonding)

Review here

The first thing Harry knew about it was when he woke up lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with his arm firmly stuck to the scrawny, milk-white arm of Draco bloody Malfoy.

I Feel You (M, CNTW, 23K)

Harry and Draco take a potion that is supposed to link their hearts together, but end up connecting a different type of organ entirely.

**Lumos by birdsofshore (E, 41K, forced proximity)

Review here

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

**Mental by sara_holmes @captn-sara-holmes (M, 186K, forced bonding, legilimency)

Review here

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

Golden Age by zeitgeistic @lol-zeitgeistic (M, 52K, Re-sorting, Magic Lore)

The Celtic druids once made a decision that kept magic in abundance in Britannia, but they couldn’t account for the technological advances Muggles would make centuries later. Now magic is dying on the isles, and this is not a dark lord that Harry can fight. OR: Harry Potter doesn’t save the world this time, but he does get a lot of hugs.

The one where all of the 7th and 8th years are re-sorted and this fic becomes a love song to Hufflepuff.

Strange Bathfellows by bixgirl1 @bixgirl1 (E, 27K, Forced proximity)

It started with a bath. Or a potions accident. Or maybe it started before that, but who can tell anymore.

Featuring: Uncomfortable wanking, more comfortable wanking, mutual wanking, bath sharing, inappropriate betting, secret shagging, those secrets at Hogwarts that everyone knows, and oblivious Harry who knows one thing: he's falling in love.

**Dwelling by aideomai (T, 83K)

Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.

Holy shit this fic is amazing and it fucked me up I was virtually catatonic after reading it please read it right away

Post-War

**Waiting By An Open Door by Femme (femmequixotic), noeon (noe) (E, 29K)

Review here

Draco starts following Potterwatch secretly during the War. He wishes Potter would come save him too. But that sort of thing only happens in fairy tales, and Malfoys don't get fairy tale endings, do they?

**Nero su bianco by zuzallove @zuzallove (E, 40K, slow burn, epistolary)

Review here

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job. Until the day of his trial.

**Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70K, Time Loop, Coming Out)

Review here

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

#drarry #drarry fic rec #enemies to lovers #8th year #epilogue what epilogue #forced bonding #secret relationship #forced proximity #slow burn #epistolary #time loop #coming out #jae 🤍

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typical-simplelove · 3 years

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Since We Were Three (J. Oleksiak)

Summary: What happens when you go work for the Dallas Stars and your childhood enemy plays for them, too?

A/n: Here is a fun enemies to lovers I wrote. This is the first time I've ever written for that trope, but I want to write more so buckle up! Enjoy this!!

Warnings: people doing things enemies do (sorry, that's really vague), mentions of sex, breaking/spraining ankles

Word Count: 12.1k

You didn’t expect to move to Dallas; it wasn’t even on your radar. All you really remember is sitting at your parents' house back home and you got an email from your Linkedin saying that there was a position open for something you were qualified for. You didn’t even bother to look at where it was; you opened the application, read the prerequisites, and filled it out. You were desperate to get a job, so it didn’t matter. Only after you emailed your application did you realize where it was - Dallas. It didn’t even register in your mind at the time that your former neighbor and lifelong enemy lives in Dallas or plays for the Dallas Stars, the organization you just sent an application for. They were looking for someone to work in their marketing department. If you knew that your former neighbor and lifetime enemy was working for the Dallas Stars, then you’d probably not have submitted the application. You decided, however, that the pros greatly outweighed the cons, and you doubted that you’d ever need to interact with the players unless they had a marketing issue. You doubt they would, right?

You got an email three days later asking for an interview. You emailed them back saying that you lived in Canada and weren’t sure if you could make it down for an interview. Thankfully, they said that they’d be willing to have a virtual interview; however, you’d have to be willing to move to Dallas for the job. You knew for a fact that you’d be more than willing to move to Dallas. That wasn’t the problem. So, you and the Dallas Stars’ representative set a time for your virtual meeting. You had the interview, and it seemed like they liked you. You got an email three days later that you got the job; you moved to Dallas three days after that and started four days later.

You completely forgot about the fact that your enemy slash former neighbor was in Dallas until your mother brought it up.

“Hey, yn, you know, you don’t not know anyone in Dallas.” You were confused. You literally moved to a country in which you knew no one.

“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jamie, remember him? Jamie Oleksiak. You hated him growing up. Well, remember, he plays for the Dallas Stars. You should contact him.”

The normal warmth in your face immediately drained. Yeah, now you remember. The only reason you had the slightest inkling as to what Jamie was up to was because your mother and his mother were good friends. You don’t care for him at all.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright and tell your mother “no”, so you pivoted. “Maybe,” you said and your mother seemed to think that meant that you’d be reaching out to Jamie. You weren’t. You were going to do everything in your power to try to avoid him. There was no way that someone who worked in marketing would ever come in contact with any of the players, right? You didn’t work in media that was in constant contact with the team, and you didn’t work in anything to do with the contracts or paychecks. As long as you keep a quiet profile, you expect you should be fine, right?

This worked for your first season working with Stars. You were new and a few years out of college, so your more experienced colleagues made sure to observe what you were doing. You were happy with this. Before working in Dallas, you only worked for one small company and you were one of two people in the marketing department. The reason you were looking for a new job was that this company went bankrupt. Yeah, you were grateful for the oversight you received. You made it one year without seeing, hearing, talking to, or being around Jamie. The fact that the two of you were in the same city made your blood boil. You hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being, and you hoped to avoid him as much as possible.

You went into the second season thinking that you’d have the ability to remain anonymous to the team and stay in your lane. This, unfortunately, did not work. You went to work on the morning that training camp started. You sat at your desk and noticed that everyone was quite angsty. You turned to a friend and asked what was going on. She told you that someone from management was coming to find people to work for the GM, specifically, someone in marketing. You knew that you’d be the last one selected considering your lack of experience. You were wrong.

The minute the representative from the GM’s offices walked in and saw your application, you were swept up and taken to their offices. Happy with the new promotion, you didn’t realize that you’d be closer to Jamie.

The notion hit you nine days after you were promoted when Tyler Seguin walked into the office and walked over to you.

“Yn, right?” he says and you nod. “We need someone to fill in with media personnel and they asked for you.”

“Oh!” you say; you had experience in media but not that much to get a recommendation.

“Yeah, they said to be there at 1:30pm.”

“Thanks,” you tell Tyler; he smiles at you and waves.

So you were going to be getting closer to the team than you thought.

. . .

As you walked down the hall towards the locker room, you ran right into the wall. Except it wasn’t a wall.

“Oh, you’re not a wall,” you say mostly to yourself. It was a very hard and firm person.

“So, you’re telling me you would have walked into me also if I were a wall?” You look up and see none other than Jamie Oleksiak looking back at you.

His beautiful eyes made you want to throw up. There was no word to express how much you hated him. Literally just staring at him for a second made you want to run away and scream.

“I, no, I just thought I had more time before I had to turn the corner.”

“Sure,” he says in a voice that makes you want to punch him; however, looking at him, you know it wouldn’t hurt at all and do the damage you wanted. Since when did he get so big? “Hey, Yn. I heard you started working for the Stars organization. Welcome to Dallas.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not my welcome party. And I’ve been in Dallas for almost a year.” You immediately back up but trip over your feet. Jamie instantly reaches out and helps you balance. You feel your face suddenly grow warm. Why did Jamie’s enormously large hands have this effect on you?

“You always were quite clumsy growing up. Tripping and falling for me, I mean in front of me.” Jamie’s joke didn’t go past you. It infuriated you. He liked to think that you were in love with him. You weren’t.

“You know, the only reason I kept on falling was because you kept tripping me. It’s your fault.” You storm away angrily and head to where you need to be.

Jamie smiles after you. “That’s the feistiness that I remember.”

You turn around and glare at him. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.

. . .

You’ve hated Jamie Oleksiak since he tripped you in daycare when you were three years old. The first three years of your life, you didn’t mind Jamie. Your mothers were best friends, and you were both neighbors. Your parents were both ER surgeons and sometimes they had to go in for emergency surgery. This was one of those days. Your father was already working and your mother was called in for emergency surgery, so Jamie’s mother was going to pick you up from preschool. You put on your small, sparkly light purple backpack and followed Jamie and his mother out the door. The minute you were about to cross the parking lot, Jamie stuck his foot out and you tripped and fell on your face. You didn’t immediately feel the pain until Jamie’s mother helped you up and mentioned that your face was bleeding. You touched your face and began to cry. Jamie tripped you purposefully and now your face was bleeding. From that day forward, you hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being. How could someone who was supposed to be your friend and care for you purposefully hurt you? Where was the logic in that? Why could Jamie purposefully hurt you unless he didn’t like you? He must hate you to want to hurt you.

It wasn’t just because he tripped you; Jamie began to make your life miserable. From taunting you on the playground to tripping you all the time. It continued into kindergarten and elementary school. Middle school was terrible. He taunted you and made fun of you. He always found ways to make anything you were enthusiastic about a reason to taunt you. He joined clubs because you were in them and so he could bring his stupid with him who would the experience unenjoyable for you. You remember your parents telling you to ignore him and Jamie probably had a crush on you. He didn’t. He just out of nowhere opted to make your life miserable.

It only got worse in high school. As his popularity grew in high school as a result of hockey, he only became more cocky and unbearable. He always found a way to make you miserable. Whenever you had any remote crush or boyfriend, Jamie always swept in and ruined it for you. By the time you graduated and went to college, you were ready to leave the horrors that Jamie brought on to you. You were quite proud of the fact that despite your mothers being friends, you had no idea about anything to do with Jamie’s life. You went to college and built a life that was the exact opposite of the misery that Jamie brought into your life.

. . .

You walk into the locker room and Carrie, one of the other media execs, greets you. “Yn, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“We need you to fill in for a few weeks with our media team because one of the media personnel had to leave for a family emergency. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Carrie laughs. “It’s not too hard. You just have to take photos and videos of the team during warmups, practices, and stuff like that. If you know how to use Instagram, then you should be great.”

“Well, then, I think I should be good.”

“We’re going to give you a separate phone to use that you can just keep at your desk in the GM’s offices.”

“Perfect, that sounds great.” You and Carrie continue to talk and work out the little details about your new temporary position. You walked back to your desk in the GM’s offices with a smile on your face. You were happy to have this new position. At first, I didn’t recall to you that you’d have to be in contact with the team. When you heard Jamie’s voice echoing through the halls, your blood began to boil. You definitely weren’t looking forward to having to have to work with him.

. . .

The day after you got the word that you were filling in with the Media Department, you started right away. You were told to sit in the practice arena ready to take photos and videos of the team. As the practice was ending, Carrie asked you to head to the locker room and take one-minute interviews with the players. She gave you the list of players: Tyler Seguin, John Klingberg, Esa Lindell, Roope Hintz, and, much to your disappointment, Jamie Oleksiak. You sighed. You really didn’t want to have to talk to him, but you were going to be professional and try not to let him get to you.

You walk towards the locker room and Carrie tells you to wait a moment; the players aren’t ready. After fifteen minutes of small talk, you and Carrie walk into the locker room. The players that you and Carrie were going to interview were sitting on the bench waiting. You glance around the room and Jamie is looking at you with a curious eye.

“This is yn; she’s filling in for a few weeks as media personnel whilst Tristain is out with a family emergency,” Carrie explains. “Be nice to her please.”

Jamie meets your eye again and smirks. You roll your eyes and some of the players notice with confusion.

“Yn, why don’t you start with Tyler and I’ll start with John and we’ll work our way around?” Carrie explains.

You nod. You glance around the room and take note of who you’d be interviewing. You were going to be interviewing Jamie Oleksiak much to your disappointment. You get through the interview with Tyler, but he stops you before you can move on.

“What’s with you and Big Rig?” Tyler asks.

You smile at him trying to hide your disdain for your former friend. “Nothing, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Tyler laughs. “If you say so.”

You move on and interview Roope next. His interview made you giggle like a maniac behind the camera, and you didn’t notice the glares that Jamie gave his teammate and you.

You finish your interview with Roope and get ready to interview Jamie.

“Hi Jamie, ready for your interview?” you ask professionally.

“Yeah, I am,” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher but it’s already got your blood boiling. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“So, Jamie, tell me, what’s been the best part of the start of the new season?”

He puts a smirk on his face and you know exactly what he’s thinking - you’re not going to get an answer you like. “Uh, I’ve liked that I’ve been able to rekindle our companionship.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not what this is, and you have to give me a different answer.”

Jamie’s answer didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates and they were begging, no yearning, to ask more.

“Fine,” Jamie pauses briefly to think of another question. “I would say just being back with the team and skating with everyone again is probably the best part about the start of the new season.”

You nod and glance down at your list of questions. “What do you hope to get out of this new season?”

“Hopefully a Stanley Cup?” he says and quirks his eyebrows in a way that sends warmth to your face but also infuriates you. You nod in a sign of acknowledgment and Jamie can’t pass up the opportunity to get a rise out of you. “Maybe you, too.”

You instantly drop your notepad and glare up at him. What was his problem? Why was he like this? Jamie should know you hate him, so why does he suddenly think that you two were going to fix the hatred that’s been building for years? Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room. “Can you please stop? Just so you know, I hate you, so whatever fantasy you’re playing out in your mind? It’s not happening, Jamie. Can you please stop making it harder for me to do my job?”

Jamie smirks. He knows he should stop, but he won’t. “I always liked watching you get frustrated at me.”

“Jamie! Just cut it out!”

“Is everything okay over here?” Carrie says, trying to calm the situation.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Jamie’s just rehashing things from our childhoods.” You explain.

“Wait, you two know each other?” John asks comically.

Jamie nods. “Know is not quite it, but yes.”

“What does that mean?” John asks

“That means that Yn hates me.”

“You hate me too, Jamie; don’t just put this on me. You’ve only ever made my life more difficult throughout every part of it.”

“Yn, why don’t you interview Esa, and I’ll finish with Jamie, that good?” Carrie suggests

“Yes, that works,” you walk over to Esa and breathe out a sigh of relief. Yeah, you knew that this was exactly what was going to happen.

You finished your interview with Esa, and you and Carrie walked out of the locker room to prep the videos to be posted.

“Dude, what did you do to make her so angry at you?” Esa asks. “It seems like your mere presence pisses her off.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does,” Jamie admits. “I can’t remember why; all I remember is that one day we started hating each other.”

“I’d hate to be in your shoes,” Tyler tells his teammate. “A pretty girl hates you, and you very obviously like her.”

Jamie pales. He didn’t think it was that obvious to anyone, ever. “What?”

Everyone laughs.

“It’s obvious,” Roope agrees. “You like her. Just the way you looked at her and acted around her. You’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t,” Jamie grumbles.

“Dude, you were staring at her the entire time she was interviewing Roope. All the giggling made you jealous, didn’t it?” Esa states.

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t care. There is nothing but hate between us.” Jamie tries to defend himself. It’s useless; Jamie knows for a fact that he was jealous that Roope got to be on the receiving end of your giggles.

“Whatever, this is going to be fun,” John says.

It truly will be.

. . .

When you got home from work that day, you immediately called your best friend, Lisa, to tell her all about your day with Jamie.

“You know?” you being. “He’s just as infuriating as when we were children. He had the audacity to believe that we could possibly be friends. I mean, come on, the antipathy and rancor between us can be felt for miles and miles. He drives me crazy so much.”

Lisa was glad that you weren’t doing a video call because the smile on her face was wide. Deep down, she knows that there are other feelings besides this hate between you and Jamie; she just wasn’t sure if it would ever come out. “Maybe he wants to be nice again.”

“No, that’s not what this is. If he wanted to be nice and try to be friends again, then he wouldn’t have done exactly what he knew would drive me insane. It’s probably like caffeine to him; driving me insane is the coffee that wakes him up in the morning. You know, now, probably, he wakes up and hatches a plan to try to drive me insane.”

Lisa laughs. “Aren’t you taking this a bit far?”

“Absolutely not, I think I’m acting appropriately. You didn’t see his smirk; I wanted to punch him in the face so badly. Obviously, it wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him as he’s huge now.”

“Oh? Down there too?”

Your face warms suddenly, and you’re glad Lisa can’t see your face. “That’s not what I meant. He’s giant and super muscular. I guess you could assume that he’s packing quite a bit.”

“You know, yn, maybe this is just pent-up sexual tension and frustration. Maybe you just need to get laid and get laid by someone in particular.”

“You’re telling me that when we were seven when Jamie broke my ankle, that was pent-up sexual frustration?”

Lisa laughs. “Okay, maybe not your entire relationship was pent-up sexual tension. Maybe just now and parts of high school? You have to admit, Jamie is quite hot, now, right? Maybe the past few years of hate has led to the dire need to just sleep with each other.”

“Thank you for your take, but these past few days is the first time I’ve spoken to Jamie in almost five years. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Just talk to him. Maybe tell him that you want this to be as professional as possible and try to move past the hate. Yn, before you argue, just think of what working for the Dallas Stars could do to your career. That’s a high-profile job. Maybe if you try to be professional and polite, then maybe he will too?”

You wanted to contradict everything Lisa said, but you knew she was right. For your job to go smoothly, it was important for you to keep a professional attitude and any hate you have for Jamie on the backburner. “You’re right; however, I’m not promising that it’s going to work. I’ll try my best to be professional, but if he starts to aggravate me, I’m not sure if I can keep up that facade.”

“That’s why you talk to him. Maybe set up a time to meet up or something and just discuss what you have to say.”

“That would require me to unblock him on literally everything, even Facebook.”

“Does he still even have that?”

“He does; it’s not even his real name. It’s an alias. He only made it to try to talk to me and bother me. I doubt he uses it and it may be deactivated now.”

“This is besides the point. Yn, Jamie is obviously not going to try to be professional with you, so it’s up to you to make that clear.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The only lingering thought you had was whether or not this would work. Surely, Jamie could be a decent human being to you, right?

. . .

The next day, you went and sat in the practice arena ready to take the photos that your job required you to take. Today, you decided was going to be the day that you had that all too important conversation with Jamie. You really didn’t want to have that conversation, but you knew that it was important in having a not chaotic working environment for everyone, not just you and Jamie.

When practice was over, you waited outside the locker room for Jamie. He walked out on his own and smirked when he saw you waiting. He didn’t know for sure you were waiting for him; however, when he saw that your phone was off, he assumed you weren’t there for work.

“Hey, ynn,” Jamie says to you and your blood instantly begins to boil. Jamie knew that you never gave him the jurisdiction to call you that, yet he still used it. You wanted to call him out on it but thought better of it. You were here to try to be professional and rehashing this would contradict your objective.

“Hey, Jamie, can we talk? It’s about something important.”

Jamie’s smirk instantly left his face and worry washed over his face. You didn’t know that Jamie could be sympathetic towards anything you said. “Yeah, is everything okay?”

His response shocked you and it took you a moment to regroup. “Oh, yeah. I just want to talk about our relationship, well, lack thereof of one. I think that when we’re here at work, we should be professional. We should put any hate that we have for each other on the side while here so that we can have a better working environment.”

Jamie laughs. “This is what you wanted to talk about? This couldn’t have been a text? You had me so worried, yn.”

“It’s important to me, Jamie,” you protest. You didn’t want to get angry at him, so you calmed yourself down. “I think it’s better for both of us if we can just keep our history and past behind us while we are doing anything to do with the Dallas Stars.”

“If I were to take you out on a date, then we could hate each other as normal?”

“What?” you falter.

“You heard me, yn. You never had a hard time hearing what I had to say.”

“No, absolutely not. You will not be taking me out on a date, ever.”

“Come on, really?”

“Jamie, this is beside the point. I’m trying to move on from our pasts and you aren’t really making this any easier. Isn’t this what you said the other day? You were hoping for a rekindling? Well, this is the first part. Trying to put behind us any hate.” You were raising your voice now. “I’m trying to make my job easier, but you’re making it incredibly difficult. Jamie, all I want is to come to work and not have to worry about whether or not an outburst I make at you will cost me my job.”

Jamie doesn’t have anything to say. “Yn.”

“No, don’t do that. You know, the reason we hate each other is your fault, so you should be the one fixing things, not me.”

“What?”

“You tripped me purposefully when we were three and laughed at me.”

“Wait, this is what this is about?”

“No, that’s the first time you treated me terribly. It was the start of you belittling me and making me feel terrible. I hated going to school because I was always worried about you and your stupid antics.” Tears are forming at the corners of your eyes, and you try to will them away.

Jamie feels terrible now. “I’m sorry, ynn. I didn’t know.”

“Firstly, don’t call me ynn; you don’t get to do that. Secondly, seriously? You’re telling me that you didn’t know you were being a total ass to me? No, I don’t believe that because I know for a fact that your mother talked to you. Do you want to know how I know that? Because she apologized to me time and time again for what you did to me. Don’t you dare say that you had no idea.”

Jamie looks down at you and extends his left leg so it’s jutting out. “You’re right. I was a total ass.”

“Only took you twenty-plus years to finally admit that.”

“Come on, ynn,” Jamie says and you glare at him. “Yn, I’m trying here, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Oh my goodness, Jamie. Literally, that’s what I’ve been trying to do! You not willing to accept my proposition is the whole reason we’re rehashing this stuff.”

“Yn, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You look at him and are shocked to see that he has remorse in his eyes. “Nothing, just let me be.” You take a step to the right and begin to walk away. Unfortunately, because Jamie extended his leg, you tripped over it and went crashing to the floor hurting your ankle in the process. You screamed out in pain; you always had weak ankles after breaking them in elementary school. Your cry out in pain brought some people out of the locker room.

Jamie’s eyes go wide in fear. “Yn! Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay? Jamie, did you really have to trip me?”

“Really? I didn’t mean to! My leg was just there, and you tripped.”

“It doesn’t matter; let me just get up.” You put your hands flat on the ground to help yourself up. The minute your leg is stable enough to be stood up on, you get up but fall immediately. You cry out in pain again.

“You might have sprained your ankle,” Roope says. He was one of the people who rushed out of the locker room when you first fell.

“No, I don’t think so. I just have very weak ankles after Jamie broke, I mean, I broke my ankles in elementary school.” Your correction of Jamie breaking your ankles does not go unnoticed by him. He wants to ask why but feels it’s not the right moment.

“Here, let me help you,” Jamie reaches for your arms and you move them away. “Really, yn? Just let me help you.”

Jamie and Roope help you up and put you on the bench in the locker room, and Roope goes to find a trainer to check on your ankle.

“I’m sorry, yn, really,” Jamie says with a soft voice. You begin to put your foot on the ground but Jamie stops you gently. “Put it on the bench. It’s important to keep it elevated.”

“It’s cold, though,” you pout.

Jamie laughs. “Here, put it on my lap then, okay?”

You look at Jamie hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trick, yn. I think I’ve hurt you enough over the years. Just put your leg on my lap.”

You do as he says and Jamie rests his hands on top of your ankle. Your face grows warm at the touch and you suddenly don’t hate Jamie. “So, you’re finally admitting that you made me miserable?”

“I don’t think I made you miserable,” Jamie says and you scoff. “Wait, let me finish. I think I didn’t make your life any easier. I’m not relenting any more than that, babe.”

You flinch at the pet name, but your face grows warm. Do you address it?

Jamie makes the decision for you. “Yn, I have a question for you.”

You nod, signaling him to continue.

“You were saying something about how you have weak ankles and then said something about me. This isn’t me trying to be self-centered or whatever. I just genuinely want to know. I don’t remember what happened.”

“Well, we were in elementary school and you once, I’m pretty sure it was accidental, put your hand out and it hit me while I was walking down the stairs and I fell. I landed weirdly on my ankle and broke it.”

“So you blame me?”

“Yes, absolutely. Do you blame me? You had a way of hurting me and making it seem like an accident.”

Jamie laughs and you giggle along; he’s about to comment when a trainer walks in.

“Let’s see what’s the matter here,” he says. You are suddenly extremely aware that your leg is sitting on Jamie’s lap and his hands are on your lap. The trainer examines your ankle. “It’s nothing too terrible; just a small sprain. I think if you keep it elevated as much as possible then it should be healed in a few days. Can you try walking on it?”

You nod and put your foot on the ground gently. Jamie puts his hands on your waist as you try to stand, and your skin is burning beneath his touch. “I think I’m good to get back to work.”

“You sure?” Jamie asks, concerned.

You nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you walk away from Jamie’s embrace. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Just ice it and keep it elevated once you get home tonight,” the trainer tells you. You nod and walk out of the locker room.

“What did you do to her?” Roope asks Jamie.

“Too much damage to ever fix,” Jamie says with a sigh. There was no way that your relationship with Jamie would ever go past professional acquaintances after what you revealed to him today. If Jamie knew one thing about you it was that you were strong and steadfast with your opinions and rarely changed them, especially when it came to people. Jamie doubted that he’d be an exception considering all of the past history there.

. . .

The days that followed your fall, you avoided Jamie as much as possible. You could proudly say that you didn’t hate him anymore. That’s not true. You still hated Jamie; however, when you heard his name, you didn’t immediately roll your eyes and get angry. Sometimes, you’d smile and other times you’d have no reaction. This shocked everyone because they all knew about the hatred you had for the Dallas Stars hockey player.

Shortly after, you were taken off of the media job and went back to your marketing job. The night of the home opener, however, Carrie comes up to your office with a request. “Tristain can be back at work but not for games at the moment. Do you think that you could fill in tonight? We had her on the schedule and no one else can be there.”

You hesitate; the only thing holding you back was the fact that you’d be seeing Jamie again.

“Sure, of course!”

You sort out the details with Carrie and are set to be available as part of the media team tonight for the home opener.

Later that day, you’re standing outside of the locker room filming the boys get ready for warmups. Once the video was taken and posted, you put the phone in your pocket and begin to head to the place you were supposed to be. However, someone grabs onto your arm gently and stops you.

“How’s your ankle?” Jamie asks softly.

This should infuriate you; however, his concern has you touched. You don’t show it though. “Better. I think I’d be better, though, if I didn’t have to worry about my ankles but oh well.”

Jamie shakes his head; he wasn’t sure why he was expecting anything else from you.

“I have to go, good luck tonight, Jamie,” you tell him and walk away. You’ll admit, your comment was quite snarky and unneeded. You feel bad for what you said, and Jamie was only trying to be nice. You had to keep up familiarities, right? You hated Jamie Oleksiak for the majority of your life, so why did you suddenly feel bad for what you said to him?

. . .

“Are you coming out with us tonight, Yn?” Denis asks. The team won and wanted to go out and celebrate.

You shake your head. “No, thanks for the invite though.”

“Oh, come on, why not, Ynn?” Jamie asks. Why was he asking you that? Did he not remember that the two of you have hated each other since birth? “Don’t not go because of me.”

“Funny. You think that I care about what you do or think. I just have a few things I have to do.” you lied; you weren’t going to admit that Jamie was the reason you weren’t going out.

Jamie smirks. “Fine, if you say so, but I will continue to think in my head that the reason you’re not coming out with us is because of me and the animosity we have for each other.”

“Well, look at you. Did you finally begin to remember the vocabulary we learned in high school?”

Jamie’s face turns red. Yes, he asked his sister to send photos of his old stuff from high school to try to impress you. He wasn’t going to admit it, however. Ever since that heart to heart in the locker room, Jamie wanted nothing more than to impress you. You went back to bantering and driving each other crazy; however, this was a lighter teasing and driving each other crazy. Some would even call it flirting. Would Jamie say he was flirting with you? Yes, absolutely. Would Jamie say you were flirting back with him? No, absolutely not. You hated him, so Jamie knew that whatever he thought you felt was obviously in his head.

“No,” he grumbles and some of his teammates laugh at him. The one thing that was sticking out to Jamie was that you didn’t correct him when he called you by your nickname. You went along with it. Was there some progress being made? “Enjoy whatever you have to do tonight, yn.”

You smile at him softly that has Jamie’s heart beating fast and walk away.

“Dude, you’re in deep with her,” someone says as they clap Jamie on the back. He didn’t have the energy to determine who was talking to him or contradict what they were saying. They were right; Jamie was in deep and he had no idea what to do about it.

After taking the video you needed for the Stars Instagram of the boys playing soccer at the next home game, you wave goodbye and head to the media offices; you once again had to fill in for the media team. You take five steps and hear a loud “ow!” from the one voice you despised. You turn around to see Jamie rubbing his head and staring down at his teammates. You can’t help but smile.

“Stop staring at her, you idiot,” Roope calls out and this gets a laugh out of all the boys. “Just ask her out instead of staring,” someone else yells. A deep red blush overtakes Jamie’s face and you can’t help but smile. You walk away with a giant smile on your face. You immediately shake it off. Why was Jamie getting flustered making you smile? You hated Oleksiak, right?

. . .

When you got home from work after a long day, all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. You had a minor sinus infection and the day was exhausting. You had a massive headache and felt nauseous all day. There was nothing more you wanted to do was take a hot shower, curl up in warm clothing, and call it a night. You weren’t expecting to come home and see a DoorDash bag sitting outside your door. You knew for a fact that you didn’t order anything. You picked up the bag and noticed there was a note attached.

Yn,

I heard that you were feeling sick, so I bought you some soup.

Enjoy,

Jamie

Jamie bought you soup? Jamie was asking about you? Where did this come from? Why would Jamie extend any kindness towards you? Isn’t he supposed to hate you? Isn’t Jamie supposed to be making your life miserable? You’ll admit, after the incident where you sprained your ankle slightly, you and Jamie have been cordial. Whenever you both talked to each other, mean words were being passed around. However, it was more of a teasing and flirting meanness. Does this mean that you and Jamie were friends now? No, right?

You walk into your apartment and open the bag - it was Italian Wedding Soup, your favorite. Your heart warmed at the fact that Jamie remembered your favorite soup. Growing up, your grandmother always made this for you when you were sick. Sometimes, she’d bring some over to the Oleksiak house if anyone was sick there, too. You grabbed a bowl and ladle and put some soup in a bowl. The minute you took the first bite, you sighed in content. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close. You started to immediately feel better. How did Jamie know this was exactly what you needed? You wanted to text him to thank him; however, you didn’t have his phone number and didn’t feel comfortable sending him a text through Instagram quite yet. You opted to write him and note and were going to leave it in his stall the next morning.

You finished the soup and began to feel better. You were happy and thankful for the soup, but you had one lingering thought. Why would Jamie do something like this for you?

The next morning, when Jamie got to his stall, he noticed that there was a gift bag sitting on the bench. He looked around to see if maybe one of his teammates left it there. It wasn't his birthday and there was no big milestone coming up. What was the message behind it, then?

“It was here when I got here,” John tells Jamie.

“He wanted to open it, but we told him that it wouldn’t be nice,” Roope says.

“I didn’t want to open it; I wanted to see who it was from. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever, Jamie, just open it.”

Jamie grabs the bag and looks for a card or maybe a note. He removes a piece of tissue paper and sees a note. He smiles as he sees your familiar handwriting that always got Jamie’s heart racing back in high school.

Jamie,

Thank you so much for the soup last night. How did you know it was my favorite? I didn’t have your phone number, so I am leaving this for you. Enjoy a small treat from home! Again, thank you.

Jamie smiles and peers into the bag. Inside, Jamie finds a bag of snacks that are endemic to the Toronto area. Only, you would know what his favorites were. “It’s from Yn,” Jamie tells his curious teammates.

This gets a few raised eyebrows and snickers from the people that were currently in the locker room.

“Why did she leave you a gift?” Roope asks.

“I bought her some soup and had it delivered to her house yesterday because I heard she was sick. This is her thank you.” Jamie blushes with these words and can’t meet anyone’s eye.

“You got her soup?” John asks curiously. What did this mean? “Are you trying to date her?”

Jamie pales. “What? No. She just wasn’t feeling well, so I tried to make her feel better.”

John smirks. “How did you know exactly what she would want?”

Jamie, not realizing that his teammates were setting him up, answered obliviously. “It was always her favorite growing up.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I loved her, still do.”

This was not the answer that everyone was expecting. “What?” someone asks.

“What?” Jamie looks up from the note to see everyone staring at him.

“You love Yn? The girl who hates you? The girl who you treated like absolute shit your entire life?” Roope confirms.

“I, yeah, I loved her. In middle school and elementary school, I just messed with her because she was a girl and, you know when you have a crush on a girl that young, you tease her.”

“No, you don’t,” Miro says.

Jamie glares at his teammate. “Whatever, not the point. I thought I was being obvious, and then in high school, I realized I was in love with her.”

“You wanted to treat her right, but you knew she’d find it suspicious.”

“I forgot about my feelings when she went to college and my career picked up, but when I saw her that first time I, just,” Jamie stops talking because he isn’t sure how to continue.

“Realized your feelings.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe just talk to her? Tell her how you feel?” John suggests.

“That probably won’t work. How do I tell her that I’ve been in love with her since we were three and I treated her terribly because I was scared of my feelings? Oh, and I ruined any possibility of her dating anyone in high school because I was a jealous idiot who couldn’t figure anything out.”

Jamie’s words get a few pitiful glances, “that sucks”, and pats on the shoulder. No one knows what to say or do. Jamie was in love with the one person who might never love him back.

. . .

Walking into the ballroom, you were trying to find your boss so that you could tell her that you were here. Tonight was the annual Casino Night and you were working behind the scenes to make sure the night went smoothly. This was the first time you were attending because last year, the marketing team didn’t need you to work it, and you also caught a cold right before.

“Oh, hey, yn’s here,” Carrie calls out and crosses your name off the list. “Perfect, you’re going to be sitting at the table in the front welcoming guests and stuff. You are going to ask for their name, ID, and ticket. Once you do that, you’ll tell them their table number and give them a gift bag. A few of the players will be serving as ushers tonight, so they’ll bring the guests to their tables.”

You nod. You want to ask who the players are, but you don’t want to sound eager.

“The organization assigned Roope Hintz, Denis Gurianov, and Jason Dickinson as ushers. They also put Jamie Oleksiak. I know the two of you have some hardcore animosity between you two, so if you don’t want him there, then we can get someone else.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” you tell Carrie. For the first time in your life, you were serious. Things between you and Jamie were cordial and professional. You still hated him like crazy but significantly less than when you were growing up. You weren’t even sure that you and Jamie would be at this point, but here you two both were.”

“Okay, great, why don’t I bring you to your station and show you how the software works,” Carrie says and leads you to the entrance of the ballroom. The next ten minutes pass, and you think you’ve got the software and system figured out pretty well that you should be okay. Carrie told you to organize the table in any way that’s fitting to your needs, so you begin to reorganize based on how you think you’ll be able to work more efficiently.

Walking to the front entrance from the back entrance are the ushers. Leading the pack is Jamie and Roope. They were walking and talking casually when Jamie suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Keep walking,” Jason says and smacks Jamie over the head.

“What are you staring at - oh,” Roope follows Jamie’s eye line and spots you organizing the table.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jamie says with heart eyes. You were wearing a dark green dress that fell just above your knees and matching green stilettos. Your hair was done in the way that you knew looked best. Jamie recognized it as the same way you did your hair for Senior Prom and graduation.

“You know, maybe tonight you should tell her?” Denis suggests.

“I don’t think so,” Jamie says with reluctance. “I know she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then try not to stare or gape too much, then.”

Jamie nods. “We should head to where we need to be, right?”

The four boys continue walking to where you were. “Hey, yn,” Roope greets you.

You look up and smile. “Hi, well, you guys clean up nicely.”

“As do you,” Jamie tells you, and the heat rushes to your face. So, Jamie was complimenting you now.

“Um, so, I’ll be greeting guests and taking their ticket information,” you explain. “Your job, which you've probably been briefed on, is to escort them to their table numbers.”

“‘Briefed on’?” Jason begins. “Are we in some kind of spy or FBI movie?”

“Very funny,” you say sarcastically. “Not the point, but that’s it basically. I think Ryan from marketing will be here to help me with the tickets. Carrie told me that two of you will be on my side of the table and two on Ryan’s side.”

Ryan suddenly appears and greets you with a hug. “You look nice, yn.”

“Thanks, Ryan, you clean up well, too,” you say back to him. You don’t catch the glare that Jamie was giving to Ryan. “I was just explaining what we’re going to be doing tonight to the boys. Two will be working with you and two with me.”

“Perfect, thanks for briefing them; you four can talk amongst yourselves as to who you’re going to be working with. I don’t care either way.”

“See?” you look pointedly at Jason. “Ryan used ‘brief’, too. Oh, I also don’t care. Actually, I’m going to head to the washroom quickly before people start to arrive.”

You get up and walk away, but you don’t notice Jamie watching you leave. He was incredibly captivated with you and wants nothing more than to sweep you up and kiss you. He wants to profess his love to you and love you forever. Sadly, you would never feel the same way as a result of how he treated you growing up. Jamie is drawn out of his thoughts by Jason smacking his arm.

“Dude, you have to stop staring,” Jason says.

“Oh, you like her?” Ryan asks. “She’s quite a catch.”

“Oh, no, I don’t,” Jamie denies. He gets stares from his teammates. Jamie isn’t sure why he denied having feelings for you. You weren’t even here to hear them anyways.

“Good, I like her, and I think I’m going to ask her out. I wasn’t going to say anything if you liked her, but since you don’t, I should be okay to do so.”

Jamie nods but locks his jaw. “Excuse me, I have to go to the washroom, too.” Jamie walks to the bathroom angrily. Of course, Ryan likes you, who wouldn’t? Why couldn’t Jamie just tell Ryan he likes you? That way, Ryan won’t be asking you out. Too entranced in his thoughts, he runs right into you, again.

“Oof, wow, hi Jamie,” you say to him giggly after regaining your composure. “I should stop doing this, you know, running into you. Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“You look really angry and pissed off.”

“Oh, well, I’m not, so, don’t worry,” Jamie says in a voice that doesn’t express what he just said.

You laugh softly.

“What?” Jamie asks.

“You say you’re not angry, but your tone says anything but,” you explain with an amused smile. You look up to meet Jamie’s eyes, and you see the fury going on in his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Jamie brushes you off and walks away toward the washroom.

You want to yell after him, but you don’t feel it’s your place to do so.

“Oh good, you’re back,” Ryan says to you. “Jamie and Jason are going to be your ushers and Roope and Denis will be mine.”

You nod and sit down. So, Jamie was going to be closer to you than you thought. “Perfect.”

When Jamie gets back from the washroom and sees you talking to Ryan in a much too friendly manner for his liking, Jamie sulks again. This was going to be a long night.

Somehow, despite his anger and frustration, Jamie was able to put that all aside as he was working as an usher for the Casino Night. Just being near you and around you was enough to calm him down. Watching you interact with the guests made Jamie’s heart warm. He always knew that you were incredibly caring to everyone you met; he just didn’t know that your actions would make him melt and fall more in love with you. After about an hour and a half of welcoming guests, Carrie walks over and says that one group can go and get something to eat. She walks away and the six of you talk amongst yourselves as to who should go. The decision is made for you when two guests walk up to you and begin pulling out their IDs. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Ryan, Roope, and Denis head into the ballroom to have dinner. After welcoming them in, Denis ushers the guests to their table. You take a breath of releasing exhaustion and Jamie smiles at you.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of people to talk to; when I took this job, I thought it would just be marketing, not the rest of this, too,” you tell him. “It’s a very versatile job.”

“Well, if it weren’t versatile, then we wouldn’t have ever come into contact with each other, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet.”

Jamie looks you in the eye. “Well, I think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah?” you say to Jamie, and he nods. “I’ll take that into consideration as I make my decision.”

Jamie chuckles deeply, and you feel the shivers go up your spine.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you ask Jamie.

“Sure,” he tells you.

“Why were you, actually never mind,” you stop asking, seeing Denis walking back to the table.

Jamie was about to question why, but he sees Denis and another guest approaching. He takes this as the reason that you stopped talking. You put on a bright smile and begin talking to the guests and welcoming them. Jamie ushers them into the ballroom after you talk and gives you a wink. You feel the warmth reach your face; you see Denis shaking his head and you question him.

“Just give him a chance,” he replies to you.

“What?” you ask confused.

“I’m serious, just give him a chance.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You will, just give him a chance when you realize you know what I’m talking about.”

You nod. What in the world could he be talking about?

Three hours after the event starts, Carrie comes over to the six of you and tells her that you were all relieved of your duties and were free to enjoy the event. You weren’t sure what to do now.

“Where are you headed?” Jamie asks.

“I’m not sure, you?”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I’ve never been to one of these before, and most of my friends are working or have their own dates. I don’t have a table to sit at and don’t want to intrude.”

Jamie nods. He extends his arm for you, and you look at him skeptically.

“What?” you ask.

“Dance with me,” he tells you.

You want to tell him he’s crazy and that there was no way in hell that you were going to dance with him. However, you wanted to. You wanted to dance with Jamie, so you loop your arm through his and he leads you into the ballroom. The two of you find a spot on the dance floor and maneuver yourselves into a dancing position. Jamie rests his two hands on your waist and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle softly; your hands don’t reach because Jamie is too tall.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re too tall; I can’t get my arms to go around your neck,” you tell him.

“Oh,” Jamie says. His eyes suddenly light up. He removes one of his hands from your waist and takes your hand. “Now, you put one of your hands on my back. This work?”

You do as he says and nods. “Yeah, and now we dance!”

“That we do.”

You and Jamie begin swaying with the music. You remember that you had a question you wanted to ask Jamie, so you decide to prompt him with it now. “Hey, Jamie?”

“Yes, ynn?”

“Why were you so upset earlier?” you ask.

Jamie suddenly stiffens, and you begin tracing patterns on his back with your hand to try to calm him down. “No reason.”

“So, you mean to tell me that you just get angry for no apparent reason?”

“No, I did get angry for a certain reason.”

“Care to share? A penny for your thoughts?”

What about a kiss for my thoughts. “It’s stupid. Ryan just said something I didn’t like, so I got angry.”

“Oh, okay.”

Jamie smiles at you, and you both continue to dance to the song. When the song ends, you begin to release your grasp of Jamie, but he doesn’t do the same.

“Jamie, the song's over.”

“I know, one more?” he asks. You want to say yes, but you aren’t sure why you don’t want to. You aren’t sure what this shift in your relationship is, but you need some time to figure it out on your own.

“I’m sorry, my feet hurt, I think I’m going to head to the back with staff and just rest, okay?” you pivot.

Jamie nods and releases his hold on you. “I probably have to do some sucking up to the donors and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, probably,” you tease. “See you later?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Jamie says to you, and the two of you go your separate ways. You head to the back to find Carrie, and Jamie heads to his teammates.

“So, did you finally tell her?” Denis asks excitedly.

“No,” Jamie says glumly.

The team gathered at this certain location all shook their heads in annoyance. When will the two of you finally realize these things?

You’re sitting in the back kitchen with a piece of chocolate cake as the event wraps up. Carrie told you that you could just sit in the back if you didn’t want to go out. Yeah, that’s what you did. You didn’t want to see Jamie again because you didn’t know what the shift in your guys’ relationship was. You needed to talk to Lisa as soon as you could before you saw Jamie again. Sadly, the universe didn’t care that much about what you felt.

“Is this the pity party?” Jamie asks as he sits across from you. He grabs the fork in your hand and takes a bite out of your cake.

“Hey!” you jokingly scold. “And no, this isn’t a pity party. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You could have come and found me, you know.”

You open your mouth to say something but close it right away.

“What?” Jamie asks with his mouth full of cake.

“Stop eating my cake,” you tell him and take your fork out of his hand. “Should you really be eating this anyway?”

“It’s cake.”

“Yeah, and you’re a professional athlete.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating only healthy things?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“But you’re eating cake.”

“Oh, now I get what you're saying,” Jamie says to you. “Just don’t tell the nutrition staff.”

“Then maybe you should wipe that chocolate icing off your face,” you joke.

“Oops, my bad,” Jamie begins wiping the icing off his face but misses.

“Here, let me,” you say and scoot your chair closer to him. You use your thumb and wipe the icing off your face. “Better.”

“Thank you,” Jamie says to you, and his face gets closer to yours so close that your foreheads are touching. “Yn, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you say to him, realizing how close your face is to his.

“You know how you asked me earlier today about why I was mad?” Jamie asks, and you nod. “Well, I wasn’t entirely telling you the truth. Yes, Ryan said something I didn’t like. When you walked to the washroom, I was staring at you because you were so beautiful. One of the guys told me to stop staring at you, and Ryan asked if I liked you. I don’t know why, but I told him no even though I’m so in love with you. Ryan then said that he was going to ask you out, and I got mad. I got mad because I want to be the one to love you, and I think Ryan might be the one to get that first.”

You pull back slightly, shocked. “What?”

“I’m in love with you; I always was.”

There’s no way you feel the same way. Where did that come from? “What? No, Jamie. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve treated me like shit our entire life. There is no way you’re in love with me. No, you’re not. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You get up abruptly and walk out of the kitchen.

You walk to go find Carrie, so you could tell her you were going to head home. You were going to tell her you feel sick, which you do. You find Carrie and tell her you’re going to head home. She says it’s fine, and you head to the exit.

“Yn, wait, don’t leave because of me,” Jamie says to you as you’re about to leave. Somehow, he found you and was following you.

“No, Jamie, if you didn’t want me to leave, you shouldn’t have said those things to me. Why? Do you hate me that much that you want to mess with me so badly?”

“What? No, of course not. I don’t hate you, yn!”

“That’s rich; I’m leaving. Goodnight, Jamie.”

You don’t see the fallen look on Jamie’s face as you walk away, but his teammates do. Jamie goes back to his table but doesn’t say anything. Why did he think you’d ever feel the same way? Because he was nice for a few months? No, he should have known better. This was his fault, and he had to live what he did.

You held in your tears until you got to your car. The minute your door closed, you broke down. How dare he do this to you? How dare Jamie say something like that to mess with you? What was his problem? Why would he do that?

You and Jamie both went home miserable that night. Jamie went home heartbroken, and you went home angry and annoyed. What happens next?

. . .

You called in sick the Monday after Casino Night. You weren’t ready to face Jamie even though you knew that you’d probably not see him. You weren’t sure what to think. Jamie was always someone that you knew would be in your life. However, you always thought he’d be there as your lifelong enemy who you happened to still be in semi-contact with because your parents were friends. As of late, though, you’ve been seeing Jamie as a friend. You weren’t going to lie, you found Jamie ridiculously attractive, and ever since the accident you had where you and Jamie finally talked, you began to see him in a different light. Instead of your first thought being how much you hated him, you thought about the good things he had to himself. You saw how friendly he was to everyone, and he always asked how you were. He had a selflessness to himself that you were starting to love about him.

“Why are you telling me all this, yn?” Lisa asks you exasperated. “I always thought that the two of you were perfect for each other, even in high school. Don’t lie, you thought about it, too.”

You pause for a moment carefully thinking about what you were going to say. “I guess you’re right. I did have a small crush on him in high school because, for almost six months, he was mostly nice to me.”

“And what about now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes, please, Lisa.”

“I think you’re in love with him, too. I think you always have been; I think he’s one of those people that is always going to be in your life whether or not you like it. At first, everyone thought you two were going to be the best of friends and take over the world. That all changed when he tripped you and the rest is history, but I think it’s different now. This time around, you both are mature adults who, I think, subconsciously realized that the way they dealt with the crushes they had on each other was by absolutely hating each other. You both didn’t know what to do, so you’re coping mechanism? Hate each other senselessly because you didn’t know what else. Now, Jamie realized how he feels and wants that with you. He said it first, right? Maybe he wants to show you he’s changed and truly loves you now.”

“I guess you’re kind of right,” you tell Lisa. “I just, I don’t know how I feel.”

“Do you find him attractive?”

“Yes, of course, he’s gorgeous.”

“Did you always think that?”

“Yes, because he’s always been gorgeous.”

“Was one of the reasons you hated him because he was so gorgeous?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Lisa,” you tell your best friend skeptically.

“My point is that if you truly hated him, you wouldn’t have called him gorgeous so quickly. I think you would have just denied finding him attractive and that’s that. Now that you know what nice and kind Jamie is like, I think you want more. You want to have more with him because you’ve seen what a great person Jamie is. Because you’ve seen the goodness, you want more and all of it. Can you say that you currently hate Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being?”

“No, I cannot say that I hate Jamie Oleksiak with my entire being.”

“Your first reaction to him telling you how he feels was not to punch him or to hurt him, was it?”

“No, I guess it wasn’t,” you say calmly.

“What was it then, yn?”

“In my head, and I don’t know why I said it, but it was ‘there’s no way you feel the same way', and I was surprised those words even formed in my head.”

“Don’t you see, yn? You feel the same way! You just didn’t know it! Your head and heart have been trying to tell you how you feel by spreading warmth to your face, making you feel shy, or just wanting to be around him. Yn, you’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“Holy shit, I’m in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“You’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak, yn.”

“Oh dear goodness, what do I do now, Lisa?”

“Apologize and tell him.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I can do that, right?”

“If you want to be with him, then yeah.”

“Okay, I can do that, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? What could possibly go wrong?”

. . .

Believe it or not, a lot. The next day, you were set to go back to work, but you woke up with a massive migraine, an aching cough, and a debilitating stomach ache. You couldn’t go to work feeling like this, so you called in sick for real this time. You finally had the courage to go see a doctor, and they told you it was just a bug. They gave you some antibiotics, and you were back to work in three days.

On the Saturday after Casino Night, Carrie asked if you could fill in for the media team, and you agreed enthusiastically. Maybe you’d finally be able to see Jamie and talk to him?

Unfortunately, that was not the case. You weren’t outright trying to talk to Jamie or get his attention, but you weren’t not doing that. You tried to act normal, but Jamie wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You were able to catch him alone after the game, but when you called out to him, he didn’t respond. You went home that night crying thinking you ruined something great without knowing you had something great at the tip of your fingers.

The following Monday, you were sitting in the GM’s offices when Jamie walked in looking for one of the team managers. You were the one of two sitting in the room, and Jamie walked to the other person who was on the far side of the room to ask if the manager was there. You’ll admit, that hurt.

You saw Jamie a few days later on your way to the locker room to give some paperwork to the coaching staff. You were about to turn the corner when your foot got stuck in a loose floorboard, and you went tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?” someone asks you as you try to get up.

“I mean, considering I just fell to the ground, no, but thanks for asking,” you answer and lookup. “Jamie.”

“Yn,” he replies back to you. “I’m going to go.”

“Jamie, wait, please.”

“What, yn? Are you going to reject me again because I don’t want to have that conversation with you, then.”

“When we both aren’t at work and in a public place, can we please talk?”

“Why should I agree to that, yn? Because, for your information, you’re breaking my heart. I can’t do this if you’re just going to make me feel terrible.”

You falter slightly when Jamie tells you that you’re breaking his heart. “I’m really sorry, can we just please pick a time and place to talk?”

“Sure, right here, right now.”

“Jamie, that’s not what I --”

“No, if you want to talk, then right here. I don’t want to have this conversation later if you’re going to reject me again.”

You’re getting kind of sick and tired of Jamie insisting that you’re going to reject him again because you’re not. “Jamie! I’m not going to reject you again! Do you think I’m some kind of heartless monster who loves to see you suffer? Guess what, I don’t! I hate that my words made you hurt and put you in a terrible mood. I apologize for that. You know you got to speak your mind, isn’t it time for me to be able to speak mine?”

Jamie is about to say something, but you stop him.

“No, I’m not going to break your heart, I promise. Just listen, okay?”

Jamie nods and takes one step towards you.

“Casino Night? You caught me off guard. My entire life, I hated you and that was all I knew. Wake up? Hate Jamie. Go to bed? Hate Jamie. You have to admit, though, you didn’t make it hard, but that’s beside the point. When I literally ran into you all those months ago, I picked up where we left off because that was all I knew. Then, come to find out, I didn’t like that. When I tripped over your foot and we talked? That was the shift inside of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling. The next few things I’m going to say I didn’t makeup on my own, Lisa helped me with it. She told me that I got to experience nice and kind Jamie, and I loved it. I did, I loved being on the receiving end of it. She was saying how I wanted more, all of the love and kindness you have to offer. She’s not wrong. I want everything you have to offer because I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“Casino Night? I didn’t know what I was feeling. If you gave me a bit more time, on my own, then I think I would have realized it soon. I’m not sure if you know this, but in sophomore year of high school, I had a crush on you because, for once, you were quite nice to me. I like nice Jamie because he makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jamie Oleksiak, I’m in love with you even though I spent almost twenty years hating you. And, that’s all I have to say, so I’m going to go now.”

You begin to turn around, but Jamie’s next words leave you stunned. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were three.”

“What?”

“When we were three years old, I realized I had a crush on you. I wouldn’t have called it a crush, but I always saw how in love my parents were and one day wanted that with you. You know how children get ‘married’? Well, I wanted to marry you. I didn’t know how to process how I felt so I treated you like shit and for that, I’m sorry. I realized I was in love with you in high school, but at that point, too much damage was created for me to go back and change things. When I saw you again a few months back, I realized that I never really got over you, and I wanted more with you.”

You take a step forward. “So.”

“So?”

“So, we’re two idiots who are in love with each other, then?”

“So we are,” Jamie says to you with a smile.

“Now what do we do?” you ask.

“Well, I’d like to take you out for dinner and maybe kiss you? Then, take you out for dinner again and call you my girlfriend. What do you think?”

“I think you should kiss me now and we can just jump to the ‘I’m your girlfriend’ part.”

“That’s a deal,” Jamie says and leans down to kiss you. He places a gentle kiss on your lips before leaning back to take a breath. He leans in again, and you both deepen the kiss he places on your lips. All of five seconds pass when you hear cheering behind you. “I guess this is why you wanted to talk in private, right?”

You laugh. “Yeah, it was. Maybe you should listen to me more often.”

“Well, now that you’re my girlfriend, I guess I have more of a reason to.”

“And why’s that?”

“So I get to keep you and love you forever?”

You smile and say, “that I can do.” You perch upon your tippy-toes and kiss Jamie again. Who knew that two childhood enemies could one day learn to love each other?

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#jamie oleksiak #jamie oleksiak imagine #jamie oleksiak x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars x reader #Jamie oleksiak fic #claudia writes

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liyuesbian · 3 years

Text

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

#ningguang #ningguang au #ningguang angst #ningguang x reader #ningguang headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin au #pygmalion au #ningguang imagines #genshin imagines

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moonlightflower21 · 3 years

Text

just like magic

a/n: angsty fluffy. normal raph. there may be mistakes and it may be hard to follow through lol. but i hope you enjoy ❤

"y/n!! wait, please wait!!" the call of raph desperately trying to reach you fell on deaf ears as you angrily walked into the public so he couldn't come close.

it was so hard to decipher what you were feeling. betrayal, anger, sadness, embarrassment, pain. sometimes it felt like you couldn't even catch a break. he had been acting so suspicious and you couldn't help but recall what your best friend had said earlier, that when a boyfriend stop texting and calling back they were sleeping around.

he couldn't.... could he?

that one girl, amber, from the chief vincent crew had been crushing on him forever. you learnt that raph and her had a small fling years ago, before he ever met you. but other than that, you didn't know much else other than the fact that she absolutely hated your guts. the feeling was mutual of course but she never failed to make any small digs at you whenever you were together.

so when she came out of his room wearing nothing but lingerie, it wasn't an understatement to say your heart felt it had been stomped on the floor. leo, mikey and donnie were all out with their significant others so they couldn't even provide any help or shed any light on why she was in your boyfriend room

the reason as to why you came around was because you thought of surprising him, considering you hadn't even seen him for the last two weeks. he seemed to vanish for hours on end and while you didn't want to jump to any conclusions, you just had to talk to him. but seeing her come out of his room that he let no one in felt like a punch to the gut.

"when will you ever learn? first loves outshine any other" amber cackled in your face, swaying her hips as she left the lair. you couldn't even speak scared you would start crying on the spot. and the last thing you wanted was to give her the satisfaction.

you entered the room but aside her horrible perfume stinking the air, raph was nowhere to be seen. hell his bed looked empty. untouched. and yet his window was open, so perhaps he escaped? the more reasonable part of you disagreed vehemently, he wouldn't do this shit. and you couldn't trust that woman, she was out to drive you both apart

but this wasn't excusable either. the air felt constricting here, walls falling in closer so you left. angry tears on the brink of falling, the excited evening you had planned obliterated in small pieces.

---

the small bench in the park was empty and you sat, trying to reel in those thoughts but they proved to be a challenge.

"y/n please listen to me, i can explain everything i swear" you rolled your eyes but stood up. hearing his part would at least put your mind at ease and those burning questions could finally be answered.

"you get one chance raphael. let's go to my place, i don't want other people listening in" you look into his pleading eyes, turning the corner and walking home with him eagerly following you close.

raph entered your room, thankful for the heat that flooded his system. he didn't realise how long he was outside and how cold he was until he bagn to shake slightly. he turned his attention to you as you shrugged odd your jacket, brows raised at him.

"no more secrets, raph. no more lies otherwise we're done" you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. he nodded, ready to answer the oncoming slaught of questions that had been scorching holes in your chest.

"who is amber? and do you still have any feelings towards her??" your voice trembled a little at the end of that sentence, hoping her put your mind at ease. his jaw seem to clench slightly at the memory of her which brought some amusement.

"she's someone i thought i was in love wit'. 17 years old me didn't know shit at the time. after a while, i knew whatever we had was just infatuation. it was never gonna work out. she wanted a relationship while i was looking for something small. but that's in my past. i don't have any love towards her anymore. she was just a silly crush"

"she was your crush? doesn't seem like it" "she was. ya can't be mad at that because you've also crushed on guys before i came but that's a good thing! because they led us closer to each other and look at us" he holds your hand, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles which was something he usually did to reduce your stress. and against your will, you could feel those familiar butterflies invade your lower belly.

"but why was she in your room? looking very cosy in there, i might add" your jaw clenched tightly, glaring at the floor in order to contain your anger.

"she what?? y/n i promise i had no idea why amber was even in my room. i wasn't even there. in fact, i'm barely ever there most days" he rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating the last part.

"why?" your brow lifts and he sighs, grimacing.

"well... i... uh... got a job" he chuckles awkwardly, expecting you to burst in laughter. but you just seemed to have a confused look, intrigued at his comment.

"a job?" you ask and he nods, fidgeting with the end of his shorts.

"yeah... in construction. splinter thought it would be good anger management. i started doing it to also pay back for the necklace... that ya don't seem ta wear anymore" he narrowed his amber eyes around your neck and true to his word, you had taken it off. your hand touches your chest, feeling only the bare skin instead. the only reason you had taken it off was because he just kept being so secretive around you. and you didn't know who to trust.

"so that explains the extra muscles on your arms" you ponder and he laughs, flexing his bicep.

"they got us liftin heavy stuff" he rolls his shoulders, aching from last night. "i'm sorry for not saying anything about it. i didn't want to be laughed at" he chuckles but there's no humour in his voice, just nervousness which is rare for raph to ever have.

"you'd think i'd laugh at you?? i'm the last person to judge and i think it's a good thing for you. it's healthy to let your anger out in this way, i'm proud of you. but you have to stop with these secrets, they're only driving a wedge between us" your hand is gently placed on his knee which he appreciates, with you he never feels pressured to say things. you let him take his time which he's never found in other partners before.

"i know i just didn't want ta disappoint ya, i'm not a millionaire and i'm not the greatest looking guy either. i just wanted ya ta be happy at somethin-" "raph, you could never disappoint me. i don't care about money or fame, i just want you to be as serious about us, i just want to be there for you. but i can't do that if you keep pushing me away, hiding these things from me" you sigh your previous anger melting into sadness and relief.

"m'sorry princess, i do care about us. there's just things that i have trouble saying. but i promise i never mean to intentionally hurt ya" he cradles your hand, his gaze on the floor in deep thought. your head gingerly leans against his arms and his finger places comforting circles around your knuckles.

"where is yer friend? aren't ya supposed ta go out tonight?" raph remembered, looking around the room.

"yeah she's supposed to come soon but i haven't confirmed anything" you lean back on the bed watching his amber eyes narrow mischievously. in the way you grew to adore.

"so what i'm hearing is, we have time?" he smirked but you gently nudge his chest, shaking your head with an amused smile.

"i'm still annoyed at you" you chuckle when he smiles softly, his eyes shining under your lights. he leans closer to you, simply just wanting to be in your embrace.

"and i'll spend every moment making it up ta ya. let's just cuddle, i've missed ya"

#tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader fanfic #tmnt raphael #tmnt 2014/16 #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael x reader angst #tmnt raphael x reader fluff

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cafeacademia · 3 years

Text

Love Between The Pages | Chapter 3

Blaise Zabini x Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Blaise enjoy an afternoon in the warmth of spring with your book club, the two of you becoming closer and your mind terribly aware that it might all end with the end of his detention.

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff, very soft chapter, a tiny bit of romance.

Word count: Approx 2000

A/N: Hi loves, here's the third chapter!! I had initially intended to include a mildly angsty scene in this chapter, but I just couldn't fit it in and maintain the soft vibes I've been going for with this series. I hope you enjoy none the less! The next part will be the last full part and then it'll be followed up by a little epilogue!

The warm afternoon sun and a light, cool breeze made the grounds the perfect spot to enjoy the hour. It was warm, but not too hot and neither was it cold. “If we go a bit further down, we can hear the lake.” Neville said over his shoulder to the rest of the group as Theo walked along beside him, everyone happily following Neville closer to the lake shore.

“It’s pretty out here, isn’t it?” Cho asked, looking over at Draco who just sort of shrugged at her. “It’s alright I suppose.” He replied. “Oh shut up, we all know you like it, you can admit it.” Ginny teased, the girls giggling at the way Draco playfully rolled his eyes at them, too amused to really be mad.

“It really is nice out here.” You said, glancing up at Blaise as you walked next to each other, a little behind the others. “I can’t believe you never thought of it.” He chuckled. And Blaise had been right, it would be lovely to read out in the afternoon sun on a warm spring day, with a gentle breeze and the lapping of the lake against the shore. The birds flitting about added to the ambience, along with the distant cheer and laughter coming from the quidditch practice that was taking place in the distance, the odd giggle and shriek of laughter bringing the grounds to life as a group of first years bounded down to see Hagrid.

Following the others down, you felt the soft brush of Blaise’s hand against yours, the back of his fingers trailing over yours. It made butterflies blossom in your chest, your heart flipping as you glanced down at his gentle touch. Looking up at him, flustered and shy, you could barely look him in the eyes and you hoped, at least for a moment that he didn’t notice what he did to you, that he didn’t realise what kind of feelings you felt when his hand touched yours like that.

Was this more than just a little crush, you wondered. Was it more than just attraction when you thought of someone nearly all the time? Their voice on your mind, their mannerisms and things they would say playing in your mind over and over. Perhaps it was more.

“Here’s a good spot.” Neville sighed contentedly as he pulled his bag off his shoulders and placed it down on the grass below a tree before lowering himself onto the grass, his actions pulling you out of your little daze and your hand parted from Blaise’s.

Theo sat next to Neville, the pair having slowly become more friendly with each other over their interest in Herbology and books. And who would have known that Theodore Nott had an interest in Herbology, had it not been for Neville who saw it in him? Theo seemed to admire Neville’s attentiveness to character, seemed to admire his kind, nurturing nature. Perhaps that was what drew him towards the Gryffindor, and gave him the patience to give the friendship a chance.

Settling down next to Blaise beneath a tree, you pulled your copy of The Hobbit into your lap as he got himself comfortable, leaning back against the old oak tree. “The Hobbit, have you read it before?” Blaise asked as he looked over your shoulder, your eyes going wide with excitement. “Once, yes.” You nodded. “Have you read Little Women too?” He asked as he lifted the copy of Little Women he had borrowed from the library. “I’ve read that too.” You smiled shyly, looking down at your book. “I think it’s nice, it’s sweet actually.” Blaise replied. “What do you mean?” It came out quieter than expected, but not so quiet he hadn’t heard you. “That you read so much, that you know the muggle fiction in the library so well.” He chuckled softly.

Blaise often forgot that your upbringing had not been like his. While he was brought up with the reality of his abilities and those around him, you were unbeknown to the world of witchcraft and wizardry. For you, it was only being alive in the books you read, it was nothing but a fantasy to you. Sometimes he wished he had lived like you, in innocence growing up with nothing more thrilling than a muggle book to delve into, with fantasies he could not fathom. He wondered what it was like when you found out you were a witch and to have the fantasies of magic suddenly become a reality for you too.

Looking over at you, Blaise found himself unable to look away. It was the way you lazily propped yourself up against the tree beside him, one hand on the page of your book while the other gently slid between the soft blades of grass, your fingers idly trailing gently over daisy heads that bloomed beneath the tree. It was the late afternoon light that cast a golden glow over you, highlighting your beauty in every way.

Perhaps it was the way his heart fluttered or the light airy feeling he got when you smiled at him. Or perhaps it was the way you shone so brightly for someone who was so shy and quiet. Whatever it was, a thought crossed his mind in that moment, one he knew only as fact. She has stolen my heart.

It was then that you looked up from your book, having felt his gaze on you. He met your eyes with a flash of embarrassment before he gave you his lopsided charming smile that never seemed to fail in melting you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked softly.

"Like what?" Blaise countered.

"Like you're-." In love. You stopped yourself, the words unable to roll off your tongue. What if it wasn't love? What if it was just curiosity?

"Like I'm what?" Blaise prompted, his fingers reaching across the grass and gently brushing against yours, rising the warmth through you again. It was confusing, yet exhilarating and so sweet all at the same time.

The words played on your lips, tangible yet out of reach. They clung to you. What if it wasn't love?

"Nothing, I just meant..." You trailed off.

But as you questioned it, you wondered more now; what if it was love?

Between the longing gazes, the need to be near each other, the soft barely there touches and the way you both naturally seemed to look for each other in a room. Maybe it was love.

But as the comfortable silence took over and Blaise gazed at you with a soft smirk, he realised he didn’t need the answer. He knew what you were going to say, what was sitting on the tip of your tongue, too shy to be put into words.

Instead of trying to pry words from you or formulate the ones he was not sure he could just yet, Blaise gently slid his fingers through the soft blades of grass, his fingertips lightly brushing over the back of your hand. You looked up at him, a sweet expression about you, somewhere between curiosity and something flustered, wanting. It was soft, the way he took your hand in his, gentle and sweet as if he thought he might hurt you with the slightest movement, his fingers gently grasping your hand in his, resting in the cool grass.

You gazed up at him, eyes full of something, but they told him everything. The gentle lap of the water on the lake shore, the soft chatter of the birds in the trees and the way the breeze rustled through the leaves. The fresh spring scent, it smelled of green, of flowers, of fresh water. It was the light salt smell of the silt that collected on the bank, the woody scent of the tree that you both leaned against. And then there was the feeling, the feeling Blaise brought you, the butterflies that fluttered through you at the way he smiled, the way he gazed at you as if you were the only one there.

You read like that for a while, with your book in your lap, one hand turning the pages while your other was resting in Blaise’s gentle grasp, his thumb lightly tracing over the back of your hand, your fingers adjusting around his hand now and again, relaxing and becoming more comfortable with the soft touch.

And even when the low toll of the clock tower bell rang to signal the turn of the hour, accompanied by the soft shuffling of pages and clothes against grass, the quiet chatter of your friends as they gathered their things together, you stayed together for a moment longer.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your common room.” Blaise suggested as he pulled away from you, putting his book away. And even though you could have spent the whole night out in the grounds by his side, you knew you could not. It would soon be time for dinner and after that you knew you had other things you needed to do before tomorrow for class. “I’d like that.” You nodded, reaching for your bag and tucking your book away.

Blaise got to his feet first, throwing his bag over his shoulder before he held out both of his hands to help you up. And you gently placed your hands in his, letting him help you to your feet, his gentle touch not leaving yours for a moment, even after you were standing.

Taking your bag and adjusting it on your shoulders, you began to walk side by side, your friends having already started walking back up the grounds towards the stone circle. “Last week is your last meeting with us.” You sighed, intending it not to sound as if you were as disappointed as you felt, but Blaise heard the way it hurt to say it out loud, the longing hope that it might not end, especially not so soon. “And we’ll make it the best, won’t we?” Blaise gently nudged your arm. “I suppose we will.” You nodded as you both continued up the hill, your mind thinking up all manner of ideas of what you could do for the last meeting the boys were there for.

You didn’t want them to leave. Of course at first you had been thinking the same as Ginny had said, it felt as if you were the ones being punished for the boys attacking your group. But it quickly became apparent that perhaps the book club was just as much of a safe space for the boys as it was for you and your friends. And you hoped at least, that they liked it enough to stay after their last meeting, but there was no way you could know for sure and part of you was afraid to ask.

You heard a joyful shriek of laughter as you passed through the stone circle, looking up ahead to see Draco and Ginny laughing with their heads thrown back about something that Theo had said, Cho unable to stop herself from giggling. It made you smile. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the same without the boys if they left, at least you felt like something would be missing.

And as you walked up the steps towards your common room, your hands brushing together, fingers linking gently and soft glances cast between you, you became lost in your thoughts.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Blaise asked as you both stopped outside of the common room door, his breath catching in his throat at the accidental use of the name. It was true though, you were a sweetheart in every sense of the word, darling, kind, gentle, quiet. There was no other word to describe you the way Blaise wanted to. Meeting his gaze, your smile reaching your eyes with a loving warmth, you shook your head. “Nothing at all.” You lied. He didn’t believe you, but he didn’t mind, they weren’t his to be shared. “Alright, I’ll see you around then.” Blaise smiled, gently squeezing your hand. “Yes,” You paused, the thought again on your mind. What if it wasn’t love? “See you later.” Were your last words before your hands parted and you took one last look at Blaise before you turned away to walk towards the Ravenclaw common room door. And you wondered again; what if it was love?

Blaise Zabini Taglist (OPEN):

@paintballkid711 @megantje123 @chaotic-fae-queen @slytherinwh0re @frecklesandfirecrackers @starofthedawn @mingyuahjumma @dracosaccount @90smalfoy @fuckingdraco @loving-life-my-way @cpetrova @miraclesoflove @struggling-bee @weasleywhore @little-me204 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @eli-malfoy-asf @ur-local-reality-shifter @voidmalfoy @wh0re4blaise @cherie-draco @lazypeachsoul @sistheselenophile @sw33tgirl

#blaise x reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise x you #blaise zabini x you #blaise x y/n #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini #blaise #blaise fanfiction #blaise zabini fanfiction #blaise zabini imagine #blaise imagine #hp imagine #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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tinyyoungblood · 4 years

Text

midnight in prague | tom holland

summary: you play MJ in far from home and when filming gets too stressful, you and tom sneak off from set to explore the city of prague at night while also talking about the idea of running away together

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader

word count: 1.9 k

warnings: a bit angsty but mainly fluff, one (1) violent metaphor, language

a/n: i highly recommend listening to the song, it’s absolutely beautiful, sets the mood and inspired this story. used some of the lyrics as dialogue. enjoy!

song/inspo: Canada (ft. Alessia Cara) by Lauv

↳ masterlist

* * *

“That’s a wrap, guys!” The crew cheered weakly, lacking the usual enthusiasm. Not moving from your spot, you meekly pumped your fist in the air in mute joy. To say you were exhausted wasn’t just an understatement, it was a big truck that rammed and then dragged you through the empty streets of Prague. You’ve been up since 9 am and the enormous clock, that had surely become the focal point for everybody, almost signaled three hours after midnight.

Your scene partner was even more drained than you. Tom was barely twitching a limb—only a hollow shell, containing the last remains of his wiped-out energy.

With his head rested on yours, you believed he was dead asleep and lightly poked his side to wake him up. But he only reached out and held your hand in a loose grip, arms dangling between your bodies. “I’m awake,” he murmured, and you were sure he was talking in his sleep.

“Tommy, wake up,” you said gently and wrapped your arms around his torso, letting him engulf you in a warm hug but he didn't budge, “You’re compressing my brain, Tom.”

Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes fluttering open to scan your face but only a second later did he realize that insomnia had caused him to believe your teasing for once. You couldn’t help but pout at the prominent exhaustion on his face. Footsteps on cobblestone and the movement of heavy filming gadgets made up your surroundings but you focused solely on Tom and the guilty look on his face. No words were needed for you to know that he was still sorry for something that he had no control over.

It wasn’t his fault that the weather conditions pushed the night shootings back and it certainly wasn’t his fault that cars were constantly driving over the bridge that you were filming at, forcing you to quickly jump to the side, only to shuffle right back to restart the scene.

But this was Prague and he was Tom. Much like his character, he had thoroughly planned a romantic trip for both of you and after weeks of gushing about it, he was sure he could make it work but something would always come up and push his plans into hopelessness.

At this point, he had accepted his fate but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t sad every time he looked at you and mad every time somebody said “action”. He loved his job and was forever grateful but for fuck’s sake, was it too much to ask for to spend some alone time with his girlfriend?

Just when he was about to open his mouth to apologize to you, you locked his lips with yours and he melted into the kiss, tense shoulders dropping. Releasing his lips with a soft plop, he sighed with a small smile, but his eyes still held sadness. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the others were already walking toward the van to drive back to the hotel to fall into a restless sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let Tom go to bed like this.

Your mind flicked to back home where you had naively envisioned your trip to Europe to be completely different—free and without a care in the world. You knew you were here for work, but you didn’t expect to have this many obligations that added to the constant pressure of having to deliver the perfect scenes. The world was counting on you to not fuck this up.

You sighed and looked down at the river. The water reflected the vibrant yellow streetlights and brought you a sense of much-needed peace and tranquillity. Tom watched you curiously as your eyes marveled at the scenery.

Your head whipped back to him and now you were beaming at him, a glimpse of mischief dancing in your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.” Tom blankly stared at you and blinked to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “What?”

“I’m saying,” you dragged out and let go of his torso to swing his arms excitedly from side to side, he squeezed your hand, “this is our last night in Prague! We’ve been looking forward to this for the longest time, do you really want to miss it? Come on, we can sleep on the plane tomorrow. Let’s be carefree for once.” Your soul was fueled with sparkling joy and you forgot about your exhaustion. “Let’s be free.”

Tom took a second to contemplate your words before a wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded eagerly, surrendering to bliss. “God, I’m obsessed with your brain sometimes.”

With your hand still in his, you pulled him with you, excitement shimmering. Crossing the Charles Bridge, the two of you slipped away and entered the night you had dreamed of.

Golden lanterns on the side of the houses marked hidden but absolutely breathtaking alleys and for the first time on this trip, it was quiet and serene. Your eyes couldn’t stop darting everywhere, taking it all in with the deepest admiration. It was like you were falling in love with the whole world.

You had a bounce to your step and Tom couldn’t contain his bubbly feelings at the sight of you. He didn’t really understand what switch of yours was suddenly flicked for your spirits to fly this high, but he didn’t need to. He missed spending time with you. Back in the States, both of your schedules were packed and barely allowed a fleeting glimpse but now, the girl of his dreams was buzzing with happiness while the streetlights highlighted her glowing face and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t treasure every moment.

The darkness made the town appear like a secret fairytale village with its colorful houses and narrow passages. Your soft chatter lingered in the warm summer air and every time a giggle left your lips Tom’s heart filled with more love for you, warming him from within. With his adoring gaze, he spun you around. Your dress flying up and you stretched your arms upward, enjoying the carefreeness with a broad smile. You felt like you were floating, feet barely touching the ground as the both of you were dancing to no music.

Drunk with happiness, both of you laughed as Tom pressed your back against a wall. With his hands caressing your hips and your foreheads pressed against each other, your heart throbbed with profound joy, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Adrenaline and happiness consumed you, so much of it that you nearly forgot to breathe but you didn’t need to as Tom’s lips were already on yours. You pushed off the wall, sealing the tiny space between you and he deepened the kiss. Your heart almost broke with joy. Pulling apart, it left you breathless again and you were certain nothing could ever wipe off the stupid grin on your faces.

Arms swinging, the two of you continued your fairytale walk and ended up at the Charles bridge again where you had started off the night. Still high on emotions, Tom pulled you with him as he swung his legs over the rim of the bridge and gestured for you to follow. You didn’t hesitate and sat next to him, legs dangling over the river. You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your small frame as you overlooked the sight in front of you.

Your voice was delicate as you spoke, cautioning into the silence, “I really needed this. It's almost like I've been stuck at home forever.” Tom was playing with strands of your hair and you knew he was deep in thoughts.

Again, you watched the dancing streetlights reflection on the water surface but this time it didn’t bring you peace. You had your night and that was all you wanted. So why did you feel a pinch of sadness at the simple thought of heading to the hotel, settling into your bed and calling it a night. You didn’t want this night to end and you knew Tom also dreaded having to end this feeling.

So the question he asked next wasn’t a surprise to you in the slightest—it resonated with you.

“What if we move to Canada?”

He sounded hopeful. Musing about taking on the world in a different way than you both already did but he knew you two were in no position to be bold and just not give a damn. It was neither in his nor your power to be selfish. A sudden breeze left goosebumps on your exposed skin, but he dreamingly gazed at you with vulnerable eyes and you let yourself dream with him.

“We could bring Tessa,” you voiced, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “And your paintbrush and some candy,” Tom added, and awe transformed your face, eyes lighting up.

“I guess we’re lucky that we don’t need much outside of us, do we?” You chuckled softly and he shook his head with a sad smile on his face. He took your hand in his and started to play with your fingers, eyes looking heavenward. For the first time tonight, you noticed the endless stars sparkling from above.

“You know, when we film those movies...” He licked his lips and your gaze darted to his hesitant face. You weren’t sure if tears were brimming his eyes or if they reflected the deep water but they were glistening and you squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there. “...When they talk about those people in the movies who up and leave, I always think about how that could be us.”

He looked down at you, hands tightening around yours and now you were sure those were tears shimmering in his eyes. “That could be you and me.”

You didn’t answer and he didn’t need you to.

Both of you knew this wasn’t the heat of the moment talking. ‘Let’s get away from here and do our own thing’ wasn’t an option for any of you. Your thing was acting, you loved it from the bottom of your heart, and you wouldn’t be completed without that passion in your life and Tom—Tom was Spider-Man. Arguably one of the most recognizable cinematic characters in the world. Besides the fact that he couldn’t just quit, he didn’t want to either.

This was the life that you both chose. Unforgettable memories, unconditional support and overwhelming opportunities. There were also hours of press tours, draining interviews and nerve-wracking red carpets.

Your heart rate picked up at the single thought of it all but if tonight had taught you anything, it had taught you something deeply beautiful. Amid the chaos and pressure, amid the glamour and blessings, all you needed in the end was Tom by your side. He was the reason why you soared your highest heights and he was your support system when you plunged to the deepest depths. Gratitude flowed through you.

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting it linger for a moment before you nuzzled your head back into the crook of his neck—brown eyes never leaving you. He returned the gesture by leaving a gentle kiss on top of your head, before resting his own on yours, pressing you closer into his body with a content sigh.

We are lucky that we don't need much outside of us.

* * *

wrote this at 5 am so it might be extra cheesy but i’m still too sleep-deprived to tell lol. i appreciate the hell out of feedback so feel free to leave me some and if you don’t, that’s okay too. thank u for reading, buh-bye! x

masterlist

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #actress!reader #tom holland x actress #tom holland x yn #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland x reader fluff

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itsadamcole · 4 years

Text

the christmas work party

fem!reader x tyler breeze

reader's work Christmas Party doesn't go as she expected it to ...

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: angsty (kinda), dirty talking, smut

— i’ve just realized that i have yet to post a tyler breeze christmas imagine .... anyway, here it is and here we go —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You sit at a table with come co-workers, laughing and chit-chatting. The annual Christmas party that your office usually threw is something you've looked forward to every year, and this year is no different.

They have the best caterer so the food tastes amazing. The free drinks are always a plus too, but you've never drunk much at these events.

The evening goes on pretty much uneventful, until about eleven.

"Excuse me," you say, getting up from the table. "I have to use the ladies' room. I'll be back shortly."

You take your clutch and walk toward the bathrooms. You do your business, even fixing up your makeup and smoothing out your red gown.

There's a dress code at the Christmas party every year. Last year was ugly sweaters or ties. This year, it's formal attire, but it has to be red.

So, you went shopping last week and found the dress you're currently wearing. You found a red satin dress with a slight v-neck. The top of the dress, from the waist up, hugs your body and pushes your breasts up slightly. A sparkly silver belt sits on your waist, adding some extra color and a little sparkle to the dress. The skirt kind of flares out. The best part? The dress has pockets.

As you leave the restroom, you hear a voice in one of the conference rooms. It's your boss yelling and screaming.

"I don't care if it's not done!" he yells. "It's due tomorrow at 9 in the morning. Get it to me or else your ass is gone."

There's a slam then a sigh.

Your boss isn't the nicest person. As a matter of fact, he rarely cares for anyone but himself and this business. He never shows emotion toward his employees, unless it's anger or annoyance. You've seen both. It's not very pretty for someone who's nickname is 'Prince Pretty', but that's usually only about his looks.

Before you can leave the hallway, the door opens and you quickly turn to leave.

"What are you doing here?" you hear come from behind you.

Putting a confident look on your face, you turn toward Tyler Breeze and say, "I was using the restroom, Mr. Breeze."

Tyler walks up to you and asks, "I mean, what are you doing here? At the party. Don't you have files you need to go over before our meeting on Thursday?"

Confused, you say, "I'm not allowed to come out when I have to go over files?"

Your boss says, "Not when this meeting is one of the most important in your entire career. It's important to make sure you have every detail down."

This is the annoyance that Tyler always shows. He's not holding back.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you say, "You doubt my skills if you think that I won't have every detail memorized before the meeting on Thursday. It's still four days away, and I've already gotten through half if not most of the files. I apologize for coming to the office Christmas party, sir. It won't happen again."

You roll your eyes and turn to walk away until Tyler's hand grips your upper arm. He turns you back to him and you find yourself standing extremely close to Tyler Breeze.

"I didn't appreciate the tone that you just had with me, Miss L/N," Tyler says, staring down at you.

Smirking, you say, "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" This sounds very much like a challenge. It'll be surprising if he doesn't fire you right here, right now.

Tyler eyes you up and that's when your heart begins to race in your chest. You're standing very close to him, almost too close. You don't know whether to push him back or let him get out whatever he's feeling.

He gives a laugh and says, "That sounds like a challenge, Y/N. I do like a good challenge." He smirks at you and his tongue swipes across his bottom lip.

The action alone is enough to make your core begin to ache. The ache catches you off guard and you bite your lip. You stare up at Tyler and say, "You would, wouldn't you?"

Before you can react, you're sandwiched between the wall and Tyler's body. You look up at the much taller man.

Tyler says, "I hope no one's told you already how nice you look in that dress."

You've received a compliment or two tonight from some of your close work friends, and that's why you tell Tyler. "A few people have, yes," you say. "Maybe if you weren't hiding out and yelling over the phone then you might've been the first."

It would be a lie if you said that you didn't find Tyler attractive. He's very good looking and you know that's how he gained the nickname Prince Pretty. His personality is a huge turn off though since he's a jerk most of the time.

"I may regret not being the first person to compliment you," Tyler admits.

He's never said anything like that to you before. You've never received a compliment from him before. You're shocked.

You stare up at Tyler and you say, "I've never heard you give a compliment to anyone. Especially not to me. As a matter of fact, you've only talked to me when I've done something wrong so I don't understand what's going on right now, Mr. Breeze."

Tyler looks down at you and he says, "I may be overstepping a boundary when I tell you that I've always found you attractive. The alcohol that I have been drinking has given me some courage to say this to you. I apologize if this comes off as overstepping. If I have acted like a jerk toward you, I also apologize for that."

"You've only acted like a jerk to me since I was hired, and that was seven months ago," you explain. "You really expect me to forgive you just like that, but it won't happen."

He says, "I don't expect it to happen, especially after I do this."

Before you can ask what he means, he leans down and kisses you. You gasp, not expecting him to kiss you. Yet, you kiss him back before you can stop yourself. His hands are on your waist, pushing you harder against the wall before pressing himself against you.

You grasp onto Tyler's jacket, which is a burgundy color with a black collar. He wears burgundy pants and a burgundy tie with a black button-up. You pull him closer to you, well, you pull him as close as you can with your clothes on. You want to be closer to him.

Tyler Breeze may be arrogant and a jerk, but he's an attractive man and it's been a very long time since you've had sex. Maybe having sex with your boss isn't the best idea but it's not your worst idea either.

He pulls away from the kiss since you both need to catch your breath. He's not that bad a kisser, and you wouldn't mind kissing him again.

"I should have asked if that was okay," he says. "I'm sorry."

You lean up and peck his lips before you say, "Stop saying sorry. I don't forgive you for treating me terribly for the past seven months but you can start making it up to me."

Tyler looks down at you and he says, "We better take this to my office then."

You nod and say, "I can agree to that."

He takes your hand and walks off to the elevator. You're on the second floor, and Tyler's office is on the seventh. You'd be far away from everyone and no one would hear you.

Once on the elevator, Tyler's lips are on yours. He undoes his tie but leaves it hanging around his neck. Your hands are in his hair as your lips move roughly against Tyler's.

The elevator ascends to the seventh floor, and the kiss doesn't break until the doors open. You walk down the hallway to Tyler's office. His fingers are intertwined with yours as you hold up your dress with your other hand since he's walking pretty quickly and you're trying to keep up.

Tyler unlocks the door to his office and lets you walk inside. You've never been in here. You've stood at the door but have never been invited in, and for some reason, you think that you'll be invited in more often.

The door locks behind you and you turn to look at Tyler. He pulls off his tie and his suit jacket before walking over to you.

"So what am I allowed to call you?" you ask, curious as Tyler presses you against his desk.

He laughs and says, "Let's start with Tyler tonight. We can work on other nicknames later." Tyler sends you a wink and you can't contain a giggle.

Tyler's fingers hook onto the sleeves on your shoulders and you look down, watching as he pulls the sleeves down.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Tyler presses kisses to your collarbone and neck.

His hands are on your waist for a second before they slide up to your back, and he works on unzipping your dress.

"I hope you have protection," you sigh out as Tyler trails kisses up to your jaw.

Tyler says, "Relax, princess. I have it covered."

He brings your lips to his as he pulls off your dress. The dress pools at your feet, revealing only a pair of lacy red panties underneath.

His hands roam your body as his tongue roams into your mouth.

Never in a million years would you have thought that you'd be standing half naked in front of Tyler Breeze with his tongue in your mouth. Yes you've fantasied about this because he he decently attractive, but you never thought it would happen to you of all people. He's you boss, and this should feel wrong. It doesn't feel wrong at all.

Your fingers work on unbuttoning Tyler's shirt and untucking it from his pants as your tongues battle for dominance. You step out of your dress and kick it somewhere in the dimly lit room. You kick your heels off as you pull Tyler's button up off his body.

Tyler pulls back from the kiss and reaches behind you, knocking things off his desk. You leave kisses to his neck and jaw as he does.

He reaches down and lifts you up by your thighs so you're sitting on his desk. His eyes run up and down your body, his fingers run from your chest, down between your breasts and your stomach.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles under his breath. His words make your heart skip a beat and you're overcome with a wave of confidence.

You reach down and start to unbuckle his belt, pulling it off of him. Your eyes are on his as you start to unbutton his pants. You look as you push off his pants.

The room is dimly lit, but you can clearly see a huge bulge in Tyler's boxers, and it makes your core ache.

You lick your bottom lip and look back up at Tyler. "Hope you're liking what you see," he says, a smug smirk on his lips.

Your fingers run down his chest and stomach as you say, "I'd like it even more if I could see what's in the boxers." A smirk forms on your lips.

"Eager, hm?" Tyler teases.

You lean up, your lips inches away from Tyler's as you say, "I'm waiting to see what you've got."

Tyler takes that as a challenge and stands you up, turning you around. He leaves kisses on the back of your neck and he says, "I'll show you everything I've got, princess." You can hear the smirk on his face as he literally rips off your panties.

Before you can say anything, Tyler's cupping your core. You gasp and close your eyes.

It's been so long, two years, since you've last had sex of any kind. It's been so long since you've been touched.

Tyler's fingers rub your clit slowly, teasing you. You bite your lip to hold in a moan as you bend yourself over his desk.

Finally, after an eternity of teasing you, Tyler slips a finger inside of you. He moves it slowly, making you gasp and let out a stifled moan. You grip onto the edge of his desk.

His finger speeds up and he eventually adds a second then a third finger. Moans escape your lips even though you try to conceal them.

Tyler pulls his fingers out before you can come. You whine and pout.

"Patience," is all he says. You hear movement behind you and when you look behind you over your shoulder, you see him stepping out of his boxer shorts and his erect member free.

Your eyes widen at the sight of his length and your jaw drops a bit. You've never seen anyone so big. It turns you on.

He kicks your feet apart and runs his tip through your soaked folds. You moan softly and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling.

"If you need me to stop, tell me," Tyler says. "I'll stop."

You sigh, "I don't want you to stop. I never want you to stop."

Tyler smirks before he quickly grabs a condom from his drawer, leaving the box out on his desk. He opens one of the tiny packages before sliding the contents on himself.

He positions himself at your entrance before he pulls one of your legs up so it rests on his desk, giving him more access to your core.

After a second, he slowly begins to thrust into you. He moves shallowly and slowly. You're biting your lip as you try to contain your moans.

His thrusts speed up every few movements, his length going deeper and deeper inside of you. He keeps a medium pace until he's fully inside you. When you've officially taken all of him, he begins to thrust roughly and quickly into you.

Your moans are loud and you're head is thrown back. No matter what you do, you can't quiet down, especially not after Tyler begins to rub your clit as he thrusts into you. Your knuckles are white from grasping onto the edge of the desk.

Tyler's hands are on your waist as he moves hard into you. Grunts and groans come from him as he thrusts.

That's when it hits you. You're being fucked on your boss' desk, by your boss, and it feels so right. It shouldn't but it does.

You get the urge to kiss Tyler. You push up and hold yourself up with your arms. You look behind you and use one of your hands to pull Tyler into a kiss.

The moans don't stop while your tongue is down Tyler's throat. As a matter of fact, they get louder because he begins to hit your g-spot.

"Oh, God," you moan between kisses. "Oh, Tyler. Don't stop. Please."

A smile of satisfaction spreads on Tyler lips.

You feel a knot form in your stomach and your walls begin to clench around Tyler.

He realizes this and says, "You gonna come for me, princess? Hm?"

Nodding, you almost scream, "Yes, I'm gonna come for you. Let me come."

Tyler says, "Come."

Then you do. More than you ever have before. Tyler releases as you do. You're both gasping for air as you come down from your highs.

You thought the night would end right there, but it didn't.

As a matter of fact, you had sex with Tyler all over his office. On top of his desk, against the wall, on the sofa, on his desk chair, and even against the window. You don't leave the building until the sun has begun to rise.

***

A few weeks pass. You haven't told anyone about the night in Tyler's office. You could be fired if anyone found out. You have been having some fun though. You wear some revealing clothing to work occasionally to tease your boss, which occasionally causes the two of you to have secret sex in Tyler's office.

It's been three weeks since the Christmas Eve party, and you've been called into Tyler's office.

He sits at his desk and he looks dead serious.

"What's going on, Mr. Breeze?" you ask. "Have I done something wrong?"

Sometimes he'll call you into his office for sex, or even just a blowjob or make out session. He looks more relaxed when he does. He looks super serious, and you wonder if you're about to be fired.

Tyler says, "We've been working together very often for the past few week, and a position as my personal assistant as opened up. I figured I'd offer you the job since we've been working together for the past few weeks."

Your eyes widen and you say, "You better not be hiring me as your assistant because we've had sex."

He says, "As much as I've enjoyed the sex, that's not the reason why. You've shown me how skillful you can be and how resourceful you are. Anyone would kill to have you as their assistant. This is a promotion, Y/N. It's up to you if you want to take it. I understand if you wouldn't want to, given our current relationship."

You think about it. Working as Tyler's assistant wouldn't be a terrible thing. He pays his assistants well, almost $30 an hour. You'd get to see him everyday, and there would probably be some other perks.

If anyone found out that you and Tyler have been sleeping together, it might look really bad. It might look like you've fucked your way into this position. Hundreds would kill to be Tyler Breeze's assistant, just for the pay alone.

You stare across the desk at Tyler and say, "Yes, I'll take the job."

He smiles and says, "Welcome to the team. Although you've basically been part of the team for a while."

Glancing back at the door and after seeing it's closed, you get up and walk around his desk. You lean against the desk in front of him and he stares up at you. "As long as you didn't hire me just so I'd be closer to you for sex then I'm happy to be here," you say.

Tyler's eyes are on you and he says, "The sex is just one of your many new job perks." He stands up and presses you against his desk. "I'd also like to take you out, on a real date. How's dinner tonight sound? I'll make the reservation."

You smile and nod, saying, "I'd very much like that."

#tyler breeze imagine #tyler breeze smut #tyler breeze x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe smut #nxt imagine #nxt smut #nswf imagine #smut #imagines #imagine #christmas imagine #christmas smut

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helloalycia · 4 years

Text

alex’s little sister [one] // kara danvers

summary: with Haley wanting to find out Supergirl's identity, you have to get your memories wiped along with Alex, much to Kara's dismay. No longer remembering being her girlfriend, you can't help but feel like something is missing.

warning/s: none.

author's note: here's an angsty kara fic for y'all to cry over 😂 part two on the way x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

I watched as the last of the dozen or so agents who knew of Kara's identity walked out of J'onn's office. Kara's grip tightened in mine and I could only presume it was the same with Alex's hand.

Alex and I were the only two agents left who were going to get our memories wiped and Kara still wasn't okay with the idea. But it had to be done if her identity as Supergirl was to be kept a secret.

"So... who's next?" J'onn asked regretfully.

I pursed my lips and stood up, letting go of Kara's hand. "I'll go."

"Y/N!" Kara stood up, grabbing my hand again.

I grimaced as I met Kara's saddened expression. "We've discussed this, Kara..."

"I know, I know, just... just wait."

I breathed out and nodded, glancing between J'onn, Brainy and Alex.

"Are you... are you sure that this is the only way?" Kara asked, directing her question at J'onn.

J'onn's expression said it all – we had all pondered the exact same thing many times. We were only left with this option and Kara knew that, yet she still kept hoping.

"We need to do this, Kara," I told her, squeezing her hand and pulling her closer. My voice lowered as I met her glossy eyes. "It's gonna be okay. It won't hurt and it won't have any side effects."

"But you won't remember us," she sobbed. "You'll forget about everything. We won't know each other."

I tried to stop myself from crying, but of course, a tear slipped out. I knew this already. It was stuck in my head all night last as I tried to picture Kara not being there. It had only been two years since she'd been in my life, but it didn't feel like that at all – it felt like longer, so it was impossible for me to imagine her not there. I couldn't even remember what that was like.

Alex was my first friend at the DEO – now my best friend – and it was through her that I got close to Supergirl and eventually Kara. Living my life without Kara would be so strange, yet I wouldn't notice the difference because I wouldn't remember.

But she would.

I sniffled and rested my other hand on Kara's cheek. She leaned into it and kissed it, to which I leaned forward and kissed her gently, quickly.

"It's going to be hard, but it has to happen. I'm sorry. You have to let me go for now, Kara."

She breathed out and looked down, nodding her head. I struggled to ignore the tugging in my stomach as I let go of Kara's hand. Alex pulled her in for a hug, the two sisters left in an embrace as I went to stand before J'onn.

"It'll be quick," J'onn assured, raising his hands. I'd seen how he'd done this to the others and was about to close my eyes and prepare myself, but before I could, Kara quickly shouted.

"Stop!"

"Kara..." J'onn looked to her, but she was only looking at me.

"I just wanted to say... I– I love you," she got out, still holding Alex. "I need you to know that..."

I gave her the best reassuring smile I could muster and said, "I know it, Kara. I always will. I love you, too. No matter what."

She nodded and I hated how hurt she looked because of this. She was losing her sister and her girlfriend all at once and there was nothing I could do.

"Do us both, at the same time," Alex blurted out, sucking up a deep breath. She had been crying, too and honestly it was horrible that this was what everything had come to.

"Alex–"

"I'm not watching you open your eyes and be a completely different person," Alex cut my protest off, her eyes meeting mine. "I'm not losing my best friend. We do this together."

I nodded, understanding what she meant, and watched as she turned to Kara, who was shaking her head frantically.

"No... I can't watch this," she cried out, before letting go of Alex and leaving the room.

"Kara, wait!" Alex called after her, but J'onn placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going after Kara.

"It's better this way, Alex," J'onn told her. "It'll only hurt more if you both open your eyes and you're not the same."

Alex pressed her lips together and still stared at the door that Kara ran out from. I grabbed Alex's hand and pulled her beside me.

"C'mon, we have to do this," I said softly, a sad smile on my lips. "For Kara."

Alex gulped down the lump in her throat and nodded. "For Kara."

–

"How you feeling?" Alex asked as I left the interrogation room.

I rubbed my forehead and shook my head. "I don't know... that felt so weird, y'know?"

Alex pulled a face as she nodded. "Oh, I know. I still feel strange from the Truth Seeker myself, but it's not supposed to have any side effects. We might just be imagining it."

I shrugged, following Alex into the main operation room. "I guess so... I wonder how long Haley will keep this up. Does she really think we know who Supergirl is?"

Alex sighed. "Apparently so, which is dumb."

"This whole thing is dumb," I added, lowering my voice so I wouldn't be heard by Haley and her colleagues. "We need Supergirl. She helped us do our jobs better. Who cares who she is?"

Alex glanced at me with a questionable expression. "We were running a lot longer than Supergirl's existence, Y/N. Don't let anyone else hear you say that."

"I know... I just wish things weren't so tense around here. I don't know, I just feel strange. Forget it."

"I get you," she admitted, looking around at the other agents doing their jobs. "It is tense. But we just have to follow Haley's orders. I could care less who Supergirl is, but if Haley wants to know, we can't disobey her orders."

I nodded, rubbing my temple. "Yeah, I guess."

"Director Danvers, Agent Y/L/N!" Brainy approached us both, a neutral smile on his face. "I see you've both had your interrogations?"

"Yes, Brainy, is everything okay? Any updates on anything?" Alex asked him.

"Nothing to report," he confirmed, before looking carefully at us both.

"You okay?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He straightened up, clearing his throat. "Yes. If you'll excuse me."

He turned around and walked away, leaving Alex and I confused. We'd learnt not to question him though, so I didn't think much of it.

–

A few days had passed since the Truth Seeker interrogation and Haley still hadn't found out Supergirl's identity, meaning her investigation was still intact. She was onto everyone like a hawk – even people who had never even spoken to Supergirl. It would be funny if it wasn't so serious.

In those few days, I felt a little different. I wasn't sure if it was confusion or an absence of something, but I felt strange, as if something wasn't right. And I didn't know why, but it was beginning to affect my sleep.

I chose not to think about it much, but after two weeks had passed, the feeling was running deeper than I wanted it to. It was keeping me up at night and I needed to know if I was actually losing my mind or not. Which meant I needed my best friend's advice.

"Alex, can we talk?" I asked her, seeing her standing at the control panel in the main hall.

She looked away from the screen and to me, probably noticing the serious expression on my face.

"Yeah, is everything okay?" she asked, giving me her full attention.

I breathed out. "I honestly don't know, can we talk in private?"

She nodded and I followed her down the corridors before we stopped at the end of an empty, rarely used one.

"What is it, Y/N?" she asked with concern.

I tried to collect my thoughts. "I don't know exactly, that's the thing. Ever since the interrogation with the Truth Seeker, I've been feeling... different."

Her expression softened and she seemed empathetic. "Different how?"

I licked my lips. "Like, I feel like something is missing. Or different. I just don't feel the same and I don't know why. It's been driving me insane, Alex. I feel like I'm losing my mind and I can't sleep because of it. Do you think it could be because of the Truth Seeker?"

Alex pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "It could be... I know what you mean. Not to your extent of course, but I have felt like something was off since that day. I've been dismissing it though."

I felt the tenseness in my body relax a little as she spoke, feeling glad I wasn't entirely crazy.

"I spoke to some of the other agents who were interrogated too," she continued, "but they didn't feel the same, so I don't know if it is the Truth Seeker. I even asked J'onn to check what's going on up here–" She motioned to her head. "–but nothing was wrong. I figured I was just having a bad few weeks. It's not hard for me to ignore."

I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. "I can't ignore it, that's the thing. It's making me feel restless."

"Y/N..." Alex frowned and rubbed my arm comfortingly. "We could ask J'onn to check you out if you want?"

I crossed my arms, shaking my head. "There's no point. I don't think I've got any reaction from the Truth Seeker – why would only me get it? I was actually thinking about going to see a therapist."

Alex nodded understandingly. "You think that will help?"

I smiled helplessly. "I have no idea, but it's all I got. It may just be something, you know, mentally wrong. Mental illness is frequent in my family."

Alex nodded and pulled me in for a side hug. "If you need anything from me, Y/N, just ask."

I relaxed my head on Alex's shoulder and nodded. "I know, Alex. Thanks."

She squeezed my arm reassuringly.

"Thanks for not turning into an arse or anything when you became Director, too," I added to lighten the mood.

She began to laugh as she shoved me away gently. I smiled, feeling a little better for the moment. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. Therapy might help. If I knew what was wrong with me, I wouldn't feel so alone.

So, therapy was exactly what I did. I booked an appointment with a therapist, courtesy of the DEO's resources, for the following week and decided to power through, ignoring this distracting feeling inside of me. But that was exactly all it was – distracting, even at the most important of times.

I had been sent out on a field mission with Alex and a dozen other agents to stop some Children of Liberty attack. Somehow the Children of Liberty had a super-powered human on their side, tormenting and abusing alien and non-alien civilians alike.

When we arrived on the scene, Alex yelled out her orders, mine being to help detain the super-powered human. Myself and another agent tried shooting the person with non-lethal ballets, but it didn't seem to be doing much but angering him. He was now grabbing the nearest alien civilians and throwing them about like rag dolls.

"Distract him, I'll grab the civilian!" I yelled to my partner, Chris, gun raised.

Chris nodded and began to shoot the super-powered human to get his attention. I ran forward when his attention was diverted and helped lead the alien-civilians to the DEO trucks waiting for them. It was chaos though – Children of Liberty were fighting back all around and some alien civilians were acting out in defence, making it harder for us to do our job.

As I was helping up a woman and leading her the other way, I got jumped on by a Child of Liberty. The woman who I was helping screamed and ran away, and I managed to flip the arsehole over my shoulder and in front of me.

He stood up with ease and ran at me, shoving me to the ground. I couldn't access my gun, so I was stuck defending myself against the oncoming punches. When the man tired, I punched him in the throat and rolled him off me, looking to grab my gun.

"Leave her alone!"

I turned and saw a civilian man holding my assault rifle and aiming it at the Child of Liberty. I widened my eyes with surprise.

"Sir, drop the gun and run!" I yelled at him, before grunting as the Cbild of Liberty from before landed a punch to my jaw.

The civilian with my gun trembled and shot the gun, but he missed by far and got shoved to the ground by the super-powered human. He ripped the gun from the civilian's hand, tossing it far away, and picked up the civilian by the neck.

I dodged an oncoming punch from the Child of Liberty who was still on me and put my marital arts skills into practice, managing to dislocate his arm and pin him to the ground in an instant. I looked over my shoulder and ran towards the super-powered human, knocking him to the ground and away from the civilian, who was now screaming and running away.

I got a few punches in before I was head butted hard. It took a few seconds for my vision to focus, to which I received another punch in the face. I could feel blood dripping from my nose now, followed by the pain.

Suddenly, the super-powered human was no longer in front of me, but thrown into the side of a building. I stumbled over my own feet, trying to take in what happened, until I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me, helping me stand up straight. I looked up and saw it was Supergirl.

"Hey, you're okay," she reassured, smiling down at me. Her breath hitched when I found her eyes, before she quickly said, "Come on."

I looked back to the super-powered human and saw some DEO agents surrounding him with guns. He was caught and could no longer hurt anyone now, thanks to Supergirl.

The blonde alien led me back to where Alex was stood, who immediately took me from Supergirl's arms and hugged me with relief.

"That looked like it hurt," Alex said, pulling away from me and giving me a rag to stop my bleeding nose.

"You have no idea," I said, trying to stop the bleeding. I turned around and saw Supergirl still standing there, though by now, Haley was heading her way and I knew things wouldn't be good.

"Thanks for that, you saved my life," I managed to say to Supergirl, who looked like she wanted to say something back, but couldn't because Haley stood before us.

"What are you doing here, Supergirl?" she immediately snapped at the alien. "You aren't part of the DEO anymore. This is an official case."

Supergirl nodded. "People were in trouble, including your agents. I help everyone and you can't stop me from doing that."

Haley didn't seem to like that response, but it didn't matter because Supergirl flew off before she could think up a reply.

"She saved my life," I spoke up, gaining Haley's attention. "I'm glad she was here."

Haley narrowed her eyes at me. "I didn't ask for your opinion, agent. But now that you've deemed it convenient for you to speak, let me say, your actions today were atrocious."

"Hal–"

"Butt out, Director Danvers," Haley cut Alex off with a glare. "This only involves Y/L/N and I." She looked back to me and said, "You managed to endanger a civilian and allow that same civilian to get ahold of your weapon. You also required Supergirl's help to get out of the mess you created. You didn't do your job."

"It won't happen again," I promised. "I wasn't thinking, I was just–"

"Distracted," she interrupted. "You were distracted, as you've been a lot recently. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I'm going to get help," I said, wiping my nose and pleading with her. "I know I've been off, but it's not permanent. I've got a therapy session next week and I'll train more. I'll get back to how I was, I swear."

Haley shook her head. "Maybe you should pull that therapy session up to tomorrow. I don't expect anything less than perfect on my force."

I frowned, knowing where this was going. Of course she'd noticed. I hadn't been myself lately and it was showing in my actions, just like today.

"You are officially suspended from further work at the DEO, until you can prove you are mentally and physically stronger than you are now," she finalised.

"You can't just do that!" Alex yelled, but I pulled her back.

"Alex, it's okay," I mumbled, squeezing her hand.

"I'd listen to Y/L/N, Danvers," Haley said darkly. "We wouldn't want to go looking for another Director now, would we?"

Alex clenched her jaw as Haley marched away to check on some other agents. When she was out of earshot, Alex punched the car door near her.

"I can't believe she suspended you," she exploded with anger.

"It's only temporary," I told her, before breathing out. "I wish it was nonexistent, but I don't know, maybe she's right. I haven't been myself lately."

Alex's anger left her expression for the moment as she looked to me. "Y/N, you said it yourself. You're getting help. That doesn't mean you shouldn't work. You're amazing at your job and Haley shouldn't get to say otherwise!"

I shrugged, moving to lean against the car door for support. "I don't know. All I know is I need to get my shit together or I won't be coming back."

Alex looked to me with the utmost certainty. "You'll be okay. I'll help you no matter what."

And Alex didn't lie. After my first therapy session, she visited me to talk to me about how it went. I shared as much as I wanted to with her and she sat with me, not interrupting as I told her everything. She visited regularly after that, too, whilst I tried to focus on myself, whether that be with therapy or training.

After my second therapy session, Alex invited me to a game night at her sister's house. She said she wanted me to get out there a bit more, since I wasn't at the DEO anymore. I said yes, deciding it would be nice to have a change in scenery.

I'd never met Alex's little sister before, but she'd been mentioned near enough always so I was looking forward to meeting her finally.

I knocked on the apartment door and it opened to reveal Alex smiling brightly.

"You're an idiot," I told her, giving her a playful glare.

"What did I do this time?" she asked with a chuckle, stepping to the side to let me in.

I entered and turned around as Alex closed the door. "You told me the wrong apartment number in your text. I knocked on the wrong door and some poor old woman woke up from her nap because of my knocking."

Alex pulled a face. "What? No I– oh..."

She was checking her text and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Yeah, oh," I teased before repeating, "You're an idiot."

She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry...? Anyway, you're here now, so it's all good."

I gave her a knowing look as she motioned around her. "This is Kara's apartment."

I glanced around and felt a sense of familiarity. "Have I been here before?" I asked Alex, furrowing my eyebrows. "I feel like I have."

Alex shook her head. "Not to my knowledge... Oh, Kara's coming."

I ignored the sense of deja vu I felt and turned to see a blonde woman walking towards us. She smiled as she met my eyes, but it seemed half-hearted.

"You must be Kara, Alex's little sister;" I said, smiling in return. "I'm Y/N."

Kara nodded and bit her lip as she glanced down for a moment. "Alex's little sister, right... glad to see you could make it, Y/N."

"Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone," Alex said, dragging me to the others who were sat on the couches.

I barely had chance to thank Kara for letting me come over before I was dragged and introduced to everyone. Well, I knew J'onn and Brainy already, but I befriended James and Nia. Apparently there was another girl – the infamous Lena Luthor – who was supposed to come tonight, too, but she couldn't make it.

Game night pretty much consisted of us playing several different games like Charades, Monopoly, Jenga and a few others, whilst smack-talking our day jobs. Pizza was ordered, wine was poured, and I got to know Alex's (well, Kara's) friends better. They were all lovely and I almost forgot why I was there in the first place.

We were in the middle of watching an intense game of cards between Brainy and J'onn when I saw Kara taking the takeaway boxes and empty glasses into the kitchen. I stood up and grabbed the remaining glasses, joining her in the kitchen.

"Hey, you didn't have to do that," Kara said when she noticed me.

"It's cool," I shrugged, leaving the glasses by the sink. "I don't mind washing up if you want."

Kara shook her head politely. "No need. I'll just stack the dishwasher later."

I nodded and went quiet for a moment, watching Kara pack the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

"Thank you for having me over tonight," I said, glad to have the chance to finally speak to her without excited yelling in the background. "I know it was technically Alex who invited me, but thanks."

She paused and looked up at me, offering a small smile. "It's okay. Alex kind of told me about everything that's happening with you and she thought you could use the break. So did I."

I chuckled and felt my cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. "Wow. Your first impression of your sister's best friend is that she's crazy. Now I'm thankful you even let me in your house."

Kara stifled a laugh. "I never thought that. I just thought that there was this girl who was having some troubles and needed a break from it all. That's all."

I smiled gratefully at the blonde. "Well, I appreciate that, Kara."

Kara glanced up at me from the pizza box and I never really realised how pretty her eyes were until she was staring at me for so long. They seemed so familiar, too, and I suddenly didn't feel so lost.

"Hey, is there anymore pizza?" Alex's voice made me jump and I broke eye contact with Kara. "I'm feeling peckish."

Kara smiled at her sister and handed her another slice.

"Awesome, thanks," Alex spoke with her mouth full.

"Oh, Alex," I complained, nudging her jokingly.

Alex laughed and headed back into the living-room to join the others.

"I don't know if Alex said, but we do this every Friday," Kara spoke up, grabbing my attention again. "If you're not busy, you can come..."

I nodded, smiling softly. "I'm currently unemployed, so why not?"

Kara chuckled and bit her lip, looking down for a moment. I couldn't really get myself to look away, instead accidentally admiring her and the comforting energy she radiated.

She looked up again and nodded my way. "Does that hurt much?"

I subconsciously raised my hand to my bruised jaw and sighed. "A little. It's not as bad compared to when I first got it, but yeah."

"How did you get it? If you don't mind saying..."

I smiled at her to lighten the mood. "I was on a mission and got into a fight with some Children of Liberty. It got pretty rough because my mind has been elsewhere lately, as you know, but Supergirl saved me. She really is the girl of steel, isn't she?"

Kara suppressed a smile. "So you don't think Supergirl should stay away from the DEO?"

I pulled a face and shook my head. "Definitely not. And the fact that you know that means Alex has been telling you more than she should be... what was it you did again?"

"Journalist at CatCo," she quipped with a stifled grin of amusement.

I nodded, mirroring her expression. "Ah, see? You know the ins and outs of our work and you're a journalist. Is that really the best combo?"

Laughter slipped from her lips and I felt my heart beat exceptionally fast at that moment, to my surprise.

"I guess that just makes it easier to talk to you, though," I complimented, giving her a grateful look. "Nothing to hide."

Her grin faded into a small smile as she broke eye contact. "Yeah..."

"Are you guys coming back? We're starting another round of Jenga!" Alex called to us.

"I believe that's our cue," I said to Kara, standing up straight and making a move to leave. "You playing?"

Kara looked back up and breathed out, giving me a half-hearted smile. "Right behind you."

#kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #Melissa benoist #kara danvers imagines #kara danvers x you #supergirl x you

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vulturhythm · 5 years

Note

1/2 I have an angsty idea (BTW, this is Tristan and Iseult anon - I'm so flattered you wanted to give me a nickname! If you still want to, Skyleen is good since that's what I've been using on AO3). Anyway, my idea isn't too unique from what you've already posted because what you do you do so well and I like it so much). It revolves around Jaskier being horribly sick/poisoned and Geralt desperately trying to find a cure - maybe it's something specific, like a near-extinct herb or the heart of

... heart of the beast that originally poisoned him, but in any case it's really hard to get and Geralt has to go on a lot of dangerous journeys in search of it. Meaning he has leave Jaskier behind (it's a conveniently prolonged illness). And he keeps failing. He keeps going out on any tips, even the most unlikely, brutalizing himself for a few days/weeks trying to kill monsters/please mages/bribe kings/capture demons or whatever he thinks he needs to do, but he always comes home empty handed...

... and Jaskier's always sicker, weaker, worse when he comes back. He'll spend a few days with him, caring for him, loving him, pleading with him to stay strong, before preparing to head out again. And eventually Jaskier realizes nothing is going to work. Even if Geralt did find something, the illness has progressed so far it wouldn't do any good. So he asks Geralt to stop. Stop hunting, stop risking his own life, stop leaving and just stay with him until the end. And Geralt can't.

Can't give up, can't face losing Jaskier, can't accept (what he sees as) Jaskier losing faith in him. So he goes out again, and again. Eventually, the disease and despair break at Jaskier until he clings, begs Geralt not to leave him, and Geralt does anyway, using his greater strength to remove Jaskier's hands from his arms, clothes, hair, Jaskier's cries echoing worse than any curses from Blaviken. On the last trip, he finds the cure. Having lost his horse to some calamity, he *runs* back...

... to Jaskier, full tilt, past even a witcher's stamina and returns to wherever they've been holed up incoherent with exhaustion and fear. Is he too late? What do you think? (Also, thank you for writing such lovely angst! I think it's the best way to get the love out).

thank you so, so much for sending me this beautifully tragic idea! i do hope this is up to your standards.

- - - - -

i won’t let you die

sorceresses are wretched things.

this is an opinion geralt has formed over a fucking century of enduring their treachery and their torment and their taunting, all the times he’s fallen into bed with one be damned. those times were fucking meaningless when compared to the love he found in jaskier.

meaningless, worthless, pointless - and now, looking back, he fucking hates himself for them.

he hates himself, for it was a sorceress whose rage when denied geralt’s aid in the coup of a crumbling kingdom was unmatched - whose rage led her to curse the bard at geralt’s side, merely fucking standing there, not even doing a damn thing.

he wasn’t doing a goddamn thing.

geralt is snarling, spitting, cursing, demanding an explanation, a cure -

the sorceress drops dead, an arrow through her skull, shot from the ramparts of the castle ahead, and, well.

geralt knows when he isn’t welcome.

he pulls jaskier away, runs from the city square, pulls his bard along through the seething, screaming, rioting crowd.

at first, geralt thinks the curse was maybe just as simple as the little rash that pops up on jaskier’s skin within they hour, as they walk away and leave the kingdom behind.

(it will be decimated by week’s end.)

he learns quickly he is wrong when jaskier doubles over and vomits on the trail.

there’s blood amongst the bile.

geralt’s heart seizes.

he pushes roach hard, hard, hard to the next town over, one where the healer and the mage are one and the same.

“it’s a disease,” the man tells them, and there’s sympathy in his eyes and something sort of like relief in jaskier’s, but - “and it’s one that can’t be cured.”

geralt knows he can never forget the fear that crossed jaskier’s face.

worse, later, is the resignation.

“geralt - “

“i know. i won’t let you die.”

he goes to yennefer next, even though to see her face is to grimace inside.

it’s been a week, and the rash has spread, and jaskier complains of stomach pains daily, even when he hasn’t eaten, even hours before he vomits blood.

yennefer takes one look at geralt before her gaze slides to the bard at his side, and she sighs, and motions them inside.

they learn nothing more.

“incurable,” she says, and if geralt didn’t know full well her loathing of jaskier, he would think she sounded... apologetic. “he’s got two years at best, likely less.”

“there has to be something -“

“geralt. i can’t do a thing.”

“geralt, surely someone will know... a - a different sorceress, a mage...”

“i won’t let you die.”

they go to another mage next, one tucked away in the depths of a town from which geralt has long since been banned.

it’s here that, finally, they get something - a name, a cause.

“it’s eating away at him,” says the old mage, “from the inside out. it’s an ancient thing - dark magic, as dark as i’ve seen. they say... well.”

“what?” geralt snarls, his grip on jaskier’s arm only tightening when his bard sways closer against his side.

“dragon heart, they say. little more than theory, but - “

and just like that, geralt is out the door, jaskier close behind.

“you can’t go after a dragon alone - “

“i won’t let you die.”

jaskier is weaker.

the rash has become boils here and there, on the backs of his hands and arms and shoulders, and he can no longer play the lute without pain.

as much as it tears geralt apart to leave him behind, he does.

he leaves jaskier at home in corvo bianco, begs their nearest neighbors to drop in, keep him well...

swears to come back alive.

“promise me you’ll come back if it’s a false lead - “

“i won’t let you die.”

he slays the dragon, a fierce red thing far up north, slices out its heart and carries it back to blaviken tied to roach’s haunches.

the old mage is waiting, ancient tomes and tablets and scrolls open on every surface, herbs and plants and monster pieces on top of and among it all.

“if this is right,” says the mage, “it’ll be violet at the end, but, well,” he amends, as he checks a scroll, “translating these have been next to impossible,” he admits, as he slices off a section of the heart, “and it might not - “

the broiling mixture in the cauldron turns a horrid, bloody red when the heart is dropped inside.

geralt feels nothing but dread.

“geralt, you can’t possibly kill enough dryads in time -“

“i won’t let you die.”

the second time he leaves from corvo bianco, he leaves jaskier in pain.

the boils are becoming lesions, and the bloody bile is a daily occurrence, and his singing voice is all but gone.

geralt sets off for the forests, and, well...

he slays fifteen of the forest nymphs, and he feels guilt biting at the back of his throat each time he shaves bark from the dead dryads’ trees, but jaskier’s red and bleeding skin is at the forefront of his mind.

the potion goes gray this time, deep and dull and dreadful, and geralt wants to scream.

jaskier is coughing now.

geralt stays home for a week, mourns the loss of jaskier’s warmth in his arms, for his bard cannot bear the touch of another’s on his sore and blistering and bleeding skin.

it pains him to see, and yet...

he cannot rest.

he leaves at week’s end, the edges of the world on his mind.

“geralt, please, just stay - “

“i won’t let you die.”

twenty tongues of elven warriors.

geralt sees the hatred, the betrayal, the disgust in filavandrel’s eyes as he slaughters those that remain.

he sees it tenfold when he slays the elven king where he stands.

he sees it in the surface of the river when he crouches down to wash his skin free of blood, reflected in his own eyes when he does his best to clean his own wounds.

he sees it in the washed-out green the cauldron’s contents turn.

he sees it in jaskier’s eyes when he returns home, tells him of the fall of the elves... tells him of the new scars upon his back.

“please, my wolf, stay behind this time...”

“i won’t let you die.”

fang of demon.

five new claw marks across his jaw.

jaskier cannot stand without doubling over in the worst fit of blood-splattering coughing geralt has ever witnessed.

the potion is black.

“geralt, it’s okay - “

“i won’t let you die.”

flesh of the one cursed before first breath.

a night in a crypt, a broken wrist, a gash on the flank.

jaskier’s eyes are bloodshot and his voice is frail. he cannot walk alone.

the potion is teal.

“geralt, please, if you love me - “

“i won’t let you die.”

eye of the beast upon the highest throne.

a king slain, a kingdom out for his blood, an arrowhead through the shoulder and a ribcage of splintered bone.

jaskier is bedridden.

the potion is gold.

“geralt, my love, *please,* i beg of you - “

“i won’t let you die.”

fang of the lycanthrope.

scar across the chest.

white.

“the cure doesn’t exist, geralt, stay home - “

“i won’t let you die.”

sting of the manticore.

wounded in the side.

bronze.

“it won’t ever work, my love, please let me die in your arms - “

“i won’t let you die.”

vessel of the djinn.

broken, battered, bruised.

charcoal.

at the end of the fifteenth month, geralt leaves his beloved behind for the last time.

he leaves jaskier coughing, choking, begging, grabbing for his arms, his hands, anything to keep him close -

grabbing for him despite the wounds geralt and the healers have done their best to keep bound -

begging for him despite the way his voice is all but gone -

sobbing for him despite the way he can barely even breathe -

but geralt draws away, shakes his head, whispers one last time, “i won’t let you die.”

he can hear his bard’s sobs well beyond the walls of their home.

twenty nine days.

wyvern, harpy, dwarf, virgin, cockatrice, gryphon, chimera, basilisk, leshen...

vampire, succubus, drowner, kikimora, barghest...

the monsters blur together after so long - after so much of his blood spilled.

geralt is growing weak, growing tired -

growing slow.

and then, one day -

one day, he stumbles as he walks back into the mage’s tower, stumbles and catches himself on the edge of the cauldron, and -

and his blood, the blood that’s fucking covering from melitele only knows how many fucking cuts and gashes and scrapes and gouges -

his blood drips from his palm, from his wrist, from his fingertips, and it falls into the cauldron -

and the concoction of herbs and roots and flowers and bones and brains and heartstrings and feathers and stones and blood, it -

it turns deep, vibrant violet, and -

and geralt goes still.

he’s never pushed roach as hard as he does that day, the next day, the next...

it’s the third day when a group of highwaymen cross his path, when they fire at him from the hillside, when a crossbow bolt strikes roach through the sockets of her eyes, and -

and geralt tears them all down without an instant of hesitation, and he pauses to mourn the loss of his cherished companion, but -

but jaskier is waiting, and -

and geralt runs.

his legs ache and his lungs burn and his ribs feel as though they may shatter again from the strain, and he is bleeding, and he is dying, but -

but jaskier is waiting, and -

and he loses track of the days and of how many times he trips and falls and of how many times he drops to his knees and then to the ground -

and still he runs.

i can’t let him die.

geralt feels as though he may collapse by the time he stumbles against the doors of corvo bianco, but still he moves,

still he pushes on,

pushes the door open and almost falls inside, and -

and he cannot breathe, and his vision is hazy, and he knows that he’s gone too far, but -

but jaskier is waiting, and -

and he steps through the doors of the room they’ve shared for so many long and perfect years, and -

and he reaches into his pocket for the vial of antidote, and -

and he looks up, and he goes still.

the vial falls to the floor.

geralt lurches the few steps to the edge of the bed, drops to his knees, reaches out to touch the back of a cold, cold hand, closed tight about a scrap of parchment he can’t bring himself to acknowledge.

he lowers his edge to the mattress, and he breathes in, and he breathes out, and...

and at last, the witcher is still.

geralt,

my beloved, i have kept alive as long as i can. i have spent my life at your side, and there isn’t a day of it that i would have changed.

my only regret is that i did not die in your arms.

i love you.

live well.

#answered asks #skyleen #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt x dandelion #gerlion #my fics #character death #don’t break out the pitchforks #you asked for this #it’s not on me this time

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 4 years

Text

New Fic!!

Honey For The Bees

A gift fic for my dear @giishu ! Based on late night conversations about fancasts, post-Wayward Son Simon and Baz, bee necklaces, and communication issues. I promised you something like this a while ago, my friend—better late than never?

Summary: It's not been quite a year since their trip to America but Simon and Baz are in a much better place as far as things are concerned, particularly their relationship. A morning trip to the market sparks some good memories for Simon but inadvertently sets in motion some angsty thought spirals for Baz. A Saturday morning set in the spring after Wayward Son, with moments of misunderstanding, but far more capability to talk things out than they've ever had before.

Simon

I like to come down to the Spitalfields market on weekends. To grab fresh falafel wraps and Thai fruit tea for myself. Decadent donuts for Baz, what with that insatiable sweet tooth of his.

And I could use the exercise–it’s the first sunny day we’ve had in weeks and I don’t mind getting out of the flat for a bit.

Penny’s holed up in her room, cramming for finals. Said she’d been up all night but the pillowcase creases on her face argued against that, I’d say. She’s a bit wound up about it all. I’m glad she got some sleep.

I promised to bring her a chai if she spelled my wings away.

I’m only taking two classes this spring term, so I’m not as spun up as she is. I’ve stayed on top of my work. It helps having Baz come over to study at our place most nights. It’s distracting as hell but he’s such a swot he won’t actually let me get side-tracked. He raps on the table with a “ focus now, Simon, or we’ll be here all night” and puts his work aside to run through my lecture notes with me. Baz can make anything sound interesting.

Merlin, I love him.

I always know we’re done for the night when he raises that eyebrow of his and gives me one of those long, cool looks that does nothing but get me all hot and bothered (he knows it too, the insufferable prat), and then starts to put his laptop away. “Time for a break, Simon.”

That’s usually when Penny snorts and says something rude, if she’s at the kitchen table with us, then escapes to her room with an eye roll and a put-upon sigh. I’ve caught her winking at Baz as she goes though, so I know it’s all just for show.

I don’t let it get to me. I know she’s almost as happy to have him around as I am.

I don’t object to her hiding out in her room, mind you. Study breaks with Baz involve a lot of snogging and I’m not about to complain about that.

And lately, more often than not, they involve Baz spending the night.

In the months since we’ve been back from America we’ve been working up to it, little by little. Back to Baz spending the night. To me holding him in my arms as I fall asleep. To late night kisses and morning breath ones too. To the comforting sensation of his back against my chest and my arm wrapped around his waist, face buried in the silky waves of his hair.

My hand splayed over his chest, feeling the slow, steady thrum of his heart.

The slide of our mouths, the firm grip of his hands on my hips, those elegant fingers finding their way down . . . fuck, I can’t be thinking of that now. Not in the middle of a bloody Saturday morning market.

Baz spent the night at his place last night, working on a group project. Probably why I can’t keep my mind off the thought of him this morning.

I missed him.

I shake my head and shove my hands in my pockets. I’ve got to keep my wits about me. Donovan’s will run out of those Nutella donuts he’s so fond of, if I don’t hurry.

It’s when I’m leaving—my belly full of crusty falafel, Penny’s chai in one hand and the box of donuts in the other—that I see the little stall to the side. I’m not sure why I stop. I don’t usually look at much other than food, not unless Penny or Baz are with me.

But something’s caught my eye. The shape of the pendant hanging at eye level.

It’s a miniature bee, exquisitely crafted in a warm, gold-toned metal, wings caught midair. It makes me think of the fat bees on Baz’s shirt—the one he was wearing the first time I saw him wrap his mother’s scarf over his hair, when we were in America. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sight, not even when I’m a cranky old codger in a care home.

I wish I had a photograph of it.

The pendant is small but surprisingly detailed, set on a chain that looks sturdy enough for the likes of me.

I don’t think about it much anymore, the cross I used to wear. It’s in a box, tucked away at the bottom of my dresser. Baz wouldn’t let me get rid of it. Said relics shouldn’t be binned. That’s not the real reason he wanted me to keep it around. I know I won’t ever need it, not with him. But if it makes him feel better knowing it’s there, I can live with that.

I touch a finger to the bee. The vendor eyes me, a questioning look on his face.

“How much?”

“Fifteen quid.”

That’s not bad. I can manage it.

Having only two classes leaves me with a fair bit of time on my hands. Baz signed me up for some sessions at this martial arts studio—it’s run by someone Fiona knows from her herbalist days, so they’re not so fussed about my dragon bits, so to speak. I took a few classes last term and now I help out there. Get paid for it too.

I tap the bee pendant, making it swing. Makes it almost seem as if it’s flying.

“I’ll take it.”

“You want it in a box, have it look nice?”

“No, I’ll just wear it.”

I put Penny’s chai and the donuts down at the edge of his display table and hand over the money. The chain’s long enough that I can slip it over my head and tuck it under my hoodie and shirt. The motion comes so naturally still, the almost-not-there weight of it on my chest deeply familiar.

My cross used to make me think of Baz. I’d think about why I was wearing it, think about him being a vampire, think about all the things that made me so obsessed with him, not understanding any of the impulses simmering beneath the surface.

This makes me think of the noonday sun glinting off those huge sunglasses of his, the tilt of his head as he adjusted that blue scarf, the smoothness of his shirt in my hands as I pressed him against the car.

Yeah, this is a hell of a lot better.

Penny’s taken over the entire coffee table when I get home, laptop in front of her as she leans against the sofa, books and notebooks and papers scattered around in piles.

Baz is curled up on the far end of the sofa, sock-clad feet just behind Penny, his laptop balanced on a cushion resting on his thighs.

He looks up when I walk in. Probably heard me scrabbling with my keys, what with those super senses of his.The smile that comes over his face is instant, lips curving up, eyes wide and happy.

Not guarded. Not questioning. Not even a glimmer of that wistfulness he’d try so hard to hide. Fuck, it’s good to see that. Just reminds me again how far we’ve come.

I bend down to press a kiss to Baz’s forehead, right on that aristocratic brow of his, as I walk by him on my way to the kitchen.

Yeah. I can do that now.

Baz’s eyes close and he leans into it every time. I love that even more.

I set Penny’s chai on the kitchen counter. There’s no safe space on the coffee table, not the way she’s got things piled everywhere.

I've just set the donuts on a plate when I feel Baz’s arms slide around my waist and the weight of his chin on my shoulder.

I lean back against his chest.

I can do this now too.

“You caught a whiff of the Nutella, didn’t you, you tosser. I was going to bring you a plate.”

Baz turns his head and brushes his lips over the edge of my hoodie, breathing his words into my skin. “I’d rather stay in here.”

I turn in his arms and then it’s him snogging me against the counter until Penny comes in search of her chai.

“Nicks and Slicks, how many times must I tell you two, not in the kitchen! You have plenty of places, not to mention a room of your own to defile, Simon.”

I attempt to disentangle myself from Baz’s embrace but he keeps his arm firmly wrapped around my waist, so I may as well just lean into him. “Why are you yelling at me, Pen? Baz is the one who followed me in here.”

“Traitor,” Baz says and slides his cool fingertips under my hoodie and shirt to pinch my waist.

I used to be sensitive about that too, but the martial arts sessions have me back into near fighting form again.

Baz has this way of running his hands along my sides. A way of resting his head on my belly and nuzzling his cheek against the roundness there that feels positively worshipful, so I can’t really let myself get fussed about it.

Well, I mean, I do get fussed about it, in a totally turned the fuck on kind of way.

Which I don’t need to be, in the middle of the kitchen, with Penny glaring at me.

I hold out the plate I’d put together before Baz distracted me. “Have a donut?”

She frowns.

“Go ahead and have one, Bunce. Simon doesn’t believe in defiling food--it’s far too wasteful.” Baz plucks a donut from the top of the pile. “They’re Donovan’s Nutella. It’s a crime to even profane them with your thoughts.”

It should be criminal to look so sexy eating a fucking donut. The way Baz licks that trace of filling from the corner of his mouth is positively pornographic.

Penny takes a donut and glares at me again. “Ugh, Simon, keep your eyes in your head.” She takes a bite, chews, swallows, and then apparently decides she’s not done giving me shit. “I never thought we’d find anything to divert your attention when there’s food around, but apparently I was wrong.”

She winks at Baz, which is completely unfair.

Because now he’s blushing a bit and blushing Baz is even harder to resist than Baz with chocolate hazelnut spread dotting his lips.

Except he’s just taken another bite of his donut, so now it’s both, and I can’t be faulted for leaning in to lick it off his lower lip which ends up with me giving him a bit of a chocolate laced snog.

“That’s it, I’m out,” Penny says, taking the rest of her donut and hightailing it out of the kitchen. “Refrain from doing unsanitary things on the counters!”

“Merlin, Penny!” I can feel my face heat up.

“Duly noted, Bunce.”

Baz rests his forehead against mine. I trace my finger down the buttons of his shirt, letting my hand rest against his stomach, gently rubbing circles there. I know he likes that.

“You are an absolute menace, Simon Snow. Seducing me in full view of Bunce, with donuts and chocolate kisses.”

I slip my fingers between the buttons of his shirt, his skin cool against them. He likes that too.

And I like that intake of breath that comes from him when I do.

“No one should be seducing a vampire in our kitchen!” Penny shouts from the other room. “Common decency in common spaces!”

“For Crowley’s sake,” Baz growls. He takes a step back and adjusts his shirt, face still a shade brighter than usual.

I did that. It’s a heady sensation every time. That he wants me and this is real.

That we’ve made it.

“Are you going to have a donut, or are these all for me?” Baz plucks another donut from the plate and proceeds to lick sugar from the top of it, just to drive me mad, the wanker.

“Dream on.” Two can play at this game and even though I had falafel at the market I can never say no to a donut.

Particularly when I can fuck with Baz while I eat it.

I stare right at him as I slowly lick at the sugar topping. His eyes widen. Good . I take a bite, chew it ever so slowly, swallow. His eyes immediately go to my throat before darting back up.

I hollow my cheeks as I suck some of the filling out.

“Fucking hell, Simon!” He’s on me, pulling me to him by my belt loops. He takes a bite of the bit of donut that’s nearest him, sugar crystals catching on his lips as he does and sending more of the filling my way.

And now we’re reenacting that scene from Lady and The Tramp with this fucking donut.

Read the rest here at Ao3!!

#carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #wayward son #my writing #my fic #belated birthday fic #photos from joshjo on insta #avan jogia on insta #old spitalfields market #donovans donuts

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theclaravoyant · 7 years

Note

Yay! So happy you're doing the Pride prompts again! I've been saving this one for it. I know you've written trans* Fitz, so I would like to prompt non-binary Fitz who uses they/them pronouns and goes by Fitz because it's gender-neutral.

AN ~ So, turns out my favourite Fitz cardigan style (in my head anyway, I think he’s worn it like maaaybe once in canon) is a potential Nonbinary Icon :P This was fun! It got a little angstier than I had originally planned, because I was Feeling Some Things, but it all sorts out in the end.

Rated T for some vague but angsty references to his past/his father and for some brief internalised transphobia.

Academy era, FitzSimmons, brotp or otp I don’t mind :)

Read on AO3 (~2500wd)

Less Travelled By

“Jemma?” Fitz asked. “What’s being a girl like?”

He was lying on her bed, playing with some kind of beanie toy – a hacky sack, perhaps. He tossed it into the air and caught it, completely unfazed by the fact that she’d only just arrived in her own dorm room.

“Well, I don’t know,” Jemma offered, thoughtful and just as unfazed as she divested herself of her bags and coat. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it. Except for- well you know, all the bleeding, and the catcalling, and the side-eyes a sixteen-year-old doctoral candidate inevitably gets. But that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?”

“No,” Fitz agreed. “I mean really. In your heart. In your soul. What’s it like?”

“That, I don’t know. If it helps, I don’t think anyone really does. There’s a lot we don’t know, about genes, about gender, about the bottom of the ocean… we scientists aren’t going to run out of work any time soon.”

“We’ll just run out of funds first.” Fitz snorted, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d stopped tossing the hacky sack now, and was instead kneading it in his hands. Curious, Jemma put the kettle on, and pulled the leftovers of her lunch from her bag to finish off at the little multipurpose table halfway between the bench (that ambitiously called itself a kitchenette) and the bed. She watched Fitz silently ruminate for a while as she ate, but when the kettle had finished boiling, he sat up.

“Why d’you ask?” Jemma wondered. “They haven’t still got you doing core units in public health or something have they?”

“Nah.” Fitz shrugged, but Jemma got the sense that he was avoiding her eyes on purpose. “This is more for, um. Personal research.”

“Okay.” She poured the tea as unassumingly as possible. “What’s being a boy like then?”

Fitz shifted in his seat as if she’d just said something uncomfortable. Jemma frowned. Fitz sighed, and the frustrations that had been hovering below the surface became suddenly more evident in his voice and body language. Muscles tense, Fitz clenched the hacky sack, and tried to explain – to it, rather than to her.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think about it much either, usually, but recently I have been and I think maybe – I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t even really feel… I mean, I know I’m different from a lot of guys around. But not all guys are aggressive, testosterone-fuelled, overcompetitive dingbats are they? There must be some normal guys out there.”

“There are,” Jemma assured him. “Though unfortunately for the both of us, they tend to be older. Hormones are powerful things.”

Fitz grimaced. Jemma grimaced back, in sympathy. Then,

“You said you feel different?” she asked. “How so?”

“Well, you know, I’m… softer, I guess, than most guys.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Fitz.”

Fitz shifted again, and waved her off, his whole body wringing. That was another conversation, another time, another life he didn’t like to think about.

“It’s not that. It’s not gender roles or anything, that’s not what I mean. I mean – what I mean is,” he struggled to stay on track; to separate the one from the other, the past from the present, the questions from the expectations. “I just don’t relate to any of the guys. I’ve tried talking to engineering, to the AV guys, even the sport guys – I’m actually not half bad at football. Most of the time we get along alright but I just… don’t really relate.”

“Maybe it’s just because they hate talking about their feelings,” Jemma suggested. Fitz scowled, but when he spoke, his voice was raw.

“Don’t make fun. I’m serious. I feel really – really alone, and I’m trying, and the harder I try the more it feels like there’s something… wrong. With me. Like I don’t fit, somehow. It’s like homesickness all over again. It’s been weeks and weeks and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Jemma hummed in sympathy.

“Why don’t you come have lunch with me and Pen and Clarissa on Monday? They do physics, I’m sure they’d love to talk rockets or something with you. Maybe this particular cohort of guy friends just aren’t for you.”

“That’s another thing though, isn’t it?” Fitz objected. “If all my closest friends are girls, what does that say about me?”

“Ugh, Fitz.” Jemma snorted, offended, and not entirely faking it.

Fitz hung his head. Of course, he hadn’t meant to devalue her by it, but it was a difficult and confusing reality to face. Men did not like him. He was not one of them. It wasn’t just this cohort; it was, apparently, every man he’d ever known with any degree of intimacy. All of them seemed to rub him the wrong way, or else he did them. Was it still his father on his mind? Fitz had spent hours wondering over it. After all these years, did he still have alarm bells set up in every cell of his being, to warn him that every man would judge him the same way? Was he doomed to forever be alone and distrustful and stuck in his past? It certainly felt like it, at times like these.

Lost in his thoughts, Fitz stared absently down at the hackey sack, still clenched in his fist. After a while, Jemma came to sit by him on the bed. She replaced his fierce grip on the hacky sack with a warmer, lighter touch on a mug of tea. He took a deep breath, pulling himself back into the room.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was thinking about Dad.”

“That’s okay,” Jemma assured him, “just don’t let him get to you. This whole thing, this self exploration? It’s perfectly natural, Fitz. Even if nothing comes of it in the end. We’re young adults; we’re becoming ourselves. Questioning what that means is very normal. Stressing about it, unfortunately, is quite normal too.”

“I know,” Fitz muttered.

“And if do you want to – to look into some things about unconventional gender experiences, I’d be happy to help you,” Jemma added.

Fitz recoiled instantly.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with me,” he insisted, shoving the thought away. He sprung to his feet, pacing away from her, waving Jemma’s gaze off his back with more desperation than anything else. “I’m not like that, I’m not going to let – him leaving mess me up like that. I’m fine. I’m not less of a man because of my Mum. She’s only ever done good for me. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Still sitting on the bed where he had left her, but a little more forlorn, Jemma whispered,

“I never said there was.”

Fitz stopped in his tracks, a few feet away. He took note of his body; shoulders tense, breath short, arms crossed defensively. He took note of the words that had just passed his lips, and of the blinding fear and rage that had taken a hold of him and made him speak them.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his voice gravelled. “I know that.”

He wanted to say I didn’t mean that, but he knew he did. In some round about way, some part of him hated it. Hated the thought that he could be different. Hated himself. His arms uncrossed, and wrapped around himself instead. Heat flushed his face and tears of frustration, fear and vulnerability tried to force their way out. Jemma got up at last, and crossed over to him, and rested her own hand gently on his protective arms.

“I want you to know that you’re safe with me, Fitz,” she assured him. “I’ll keep your secrets and I’ll support you and I’ll be here for you, no matter what. I’m not going to hurt you or abandon you. I’m with you. Okay?”

Fitz, stuck for words, nodded. Jemma smiled gently.

“Would you like a hug?”

He nodded again, and she embraced him, cradling him gently in her arms. Eventually, he took a deep breath and let it go, and they both felt some of the weight of the room lift.

“Do you want to keep talking about it?” Jemma offered.

“D’you think it’ll help?” Fitz responded meekly.

“Yes I do,” Jemma said. “I think that finding an answer, even if it’s not the right one yet, will help you clear some of that confusion.”

Will get his hold off of you, was what she wanted to say, her blood boiling at the thought of how pervasive his father’s control truly was, but in the greater mission of turning Fitz’s thoughts away from his past wherever possible, she decided not to add that on.

“Okay,” Fitz agreed. “What do you think is the answer, then?”

Jemma smiled.

“That, I think I do know. Obviously, I can’t read your mind, but here, have a look at this. Hang on.” She pulled her laptop out of its bag, and searched, and flicked through a few pages before she found what she’d been looking for. By the time she handed it over to Fitz, there were several tabs open, labelled things like, Beyond the Binary, Non-Western Genders, Agender, and Which Non-Binary Are You? Scanning through them, Fitz’s jaw dropped.

“What? How did you find all these?”

“I did a Queer Studies class in university. The terminology is changing all the time, and the possibilities are expanding rapidly since I did it, but the principles are largely the same. Thousands of people – hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions around the world - don’t relate to the typical binary experience, Fitz. You’re not alone.”

“But… surely,” Fitz wondered, “it must be something to do with how I was raised, right? It’s not - you know, a real thing. Surely.”

Jemma shrugged.

“Isn’t everything to do with how we were raised? Our accents, the way we dress, what we’ve studied? In fact, it’s plausible that being raised in such a…” violent, aggressive, she pushed past them “- strictly enforced binary world like you were could have actually had the opposite effect. It wouldn’t be unheard of. For example, the majority of people raised in a strictly religious household change religions or become atheistic once no longer bound by that household. It may be that your sense of ‘maleness’ and ‘femaleness’ is so strongly associated with gender roles that you may not relate to a less categorical gender experience. It’s quite logical really. As, by your own understanding, you fall outside of those categories, your brain is telling you that you’re not either one of them. The only option then is to find a third, or opt out of the system altogether.”

Fitz nodded, slowly.

“That… makes sense,” he acknowledged. “I didn’t expect so much of a Nurture argument out of you, though, Miss Biologist.”

“Bio-chemist,” she corrected, “but I can give you a few nature arguments if you like. The most likely of which, of course, is that you were born this way – whatever way that is - and just haven’t had a chance to start properly exploring it until now. Maybe your unconventional upbringing feeds into it, or maybe it is simply a confusing coincidence on top of an unconventional, internal, and independent gender situation. Either way, in my opinion, it’s something worth looking into.”

“Worth looking into?” Fitz repeated, his eyes drawn back to the treasure trove of answers she’d laid out before him. Curiosity and an insatiable sense of rightness were drowning out his fears, and his father’s control. “This is incredible.”

Entranced, he returned to Jemma’s bed and set himself up, scrolling and reading and occasionally commenting as he stumbled across phrases he liked or puzzled over. Jemma struggled to keep her smile restrained in its radiance. She hadn’t been expecting this much of a turnaround in Fitz’s mood, but she supposed it was the insecurity that got to him most of all. Learning that his experiences were not isolated, not faked, not hollow, had him riding a high of self-validation that memories of his father could not, in this moment, touch. Jemma set about some busywork – eating, cleaning, and reading – while Fitz explored, until finally he closed the lid of her laptop with a satisfied, somewhat declaratory sigh.

“Amazing,” he said, before Jemma’s words made it out:

“What did you think?”

“It’s a lot to think about, but it feels right.” The sweetness of victory could be heard in his voice; seen in his eyes. “Thank you so much for showing me all this, Jemma.”

“I just opened a door,” Jemma objected. “You were the one who walked through it.”

“But I wouldn’t have done,” Fitz insisted, “without you.”

He blushed a little, and so did she. As close as they were, they didn’t often share explicit personal feelings.

“So,” Jemma said, pushing on. “Have you decided anything yet?”

“That Leopold is a terrible name?” Fitz replied. “I like Fitz. It’s just better, but it’s also gender neutral, which I like. Although, I think this whole ‘FitzSimmons’ business could get confusing.”

“Well, I hardly think ‘Jemmapold’ was going to take off anyway, now was it,” Jemma remarked. Fitz grinned.

“The rest, I guess,” he continued. “I’ll take it as it comes. Although, I wouldn’t mind investing in some of those loose-knit cardigans.”

“I have a giftcard,” Jemma offered. “I’ll set you up. And – what about pronouns? Do you have a preference?”

His/their hands looked for something to fiddle with, and his/their face twisted around the words a little. It still felt a little radical. But radically himself. Themself? They took a deep breath.

“Yeah, you know, actually,” they stammered, their voice squeaking a little. “I think I prefer neutral pronouns. They/their. It sort of – it reduces that pressure I feel? To conform?”

To Fitz’s relief, Jemma nodded.

“Sure. I’ll do my best to use them instead, then. Around other people, too?”

“I mean, if it’s not too hard?” they requested. “Use your discretion, I guess.”

“Of course,” Jemma agreed. “Now, is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

Fitz cleared their throat, steadying their voice against the strain of puberty and nerves.

“No,” they said, once they were sure they’d pulled themself together. “No, I think that’s it for now. Thanks, Jemma.”

“Existential crises are all in a day’s work,” she assured them, beaming gently. “If anything else comes up, you just let me know, okay?”

Fitz groaned – a long, melodramatic groan. Jemma hesitated.

“What?” she asked.

“I forgot to hand in that bloody grant application!” they lamented. “Ah well, I’ll just have to go in early tomorrow.”

“Or we could go right now,” Jemma suggested. “We could use the walk, it would be good to get some fresh air.”

Fitz looked unconvinced, until she added:

“… and I think that new donut place has opened up on the corner.”

Fitz sprung to their feet, and Jemma almost laughed. Whether it was their age or innate Fitz-ness or both, they had the lanky awkwardness of movement of a baby giraffe. Same old Fitz. She kept this to herself, in case Fitz took it as implying they’d ever been anything but the same old Fitz, and followed them out the door, purse and keys in hand.

#fsfic #fitzsimmons #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #aospositivitynet #happy pride!#prompt me stuff #clara's fic tag #unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot

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