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cherriegyuu · 3 days

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so high school | kmg | part 2

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 7.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here warnings: reader is mentioned to have long hair, mentions of food and alcohol please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part one >

It had taken you almost two entire weeks to work up the courage to talk to Mingyu again. He had been nice enough not to contact you first. No texts, no calls, and the two times you had bumped into him on campus — aka seen him across the street — he had nodded in greeting, but made no attempt to get closer.

You hated it, admittedly, but you had missed his presence. The annoying texts at inappropriate times, the way he would wave his arm above his head every time he saw you, like he was a kid seeing a friend after a long vacation.

You had no idea how to talk to him. You couldn’t just say haha, I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, even though I saw you every day for two years, you know how it is, right? without sounding like a complete and utter lunatic. And you didn’t even need Jeonghan to pull out his school photo album, which he absolutely did, to rub in your face how completely forgetful you were. The moment Mingyu said the words “she doesn’t remember me”, laughing a little, a somewhat embarrassed by the situation, it was as if the movie of your adolescence suddenly flashed through your eyes.

Every time you had seen him leave the gym, following Jeonghan and Seungcheol closely. At first, he was quiet, just observing everything and later talking to your brother only, and then he was laughing and making jokes along with everyone else. He was obviously loved by his teammates. You remember finding him handsome back then when he was much younger and wore clothes chosen by his mother. You never talked, it’s true, you didn’t even know his name, but you always knew who he was.

How you went from that moment to years later not remembering him, you didn’t know. That was a big mystery, and you had no idea how to answer.

You saw Mingyu leaving the building next to a girl. He smiled and gestured as he talked, clearly excited about the subject at hand. The girl next to him smiled broadly, her body leaning closer to his, despite the clear space between the two of them. She looked at Mingyu as if he had nailed the stars to the sky, as if he was the only reason the sun shone every morning.

You thought about giving up. You were going to interrupt something and you didn't want that, didn't want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, anything more than necessary.

And then Mingyu looked straight ahead, right in your direction. You closed your eyes for a second, forcing yourself to do exactly what you had planned to do from the beginning. Slowly, you raised your right hand in front of your body, at the height of your stomach, and waved. It was a quick and shy movement that you almost didn't want to do.

The smile on Mingyu's face grew huge as if he had seen something that had truly made him happy. He held his arm over his head, swinging it from side to side like a child; you couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across your lips, no matter how hard you tried.

Mingyu strode across the lawn, the girl he was talking to was left behind, forgotten, calling out his name loudly, but he didn't look back once. She glared at you and you knew, at that very moment, that if you didn't have a single enemy in your life, you had just made one.

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face. It took everything you had to do not to stare at his arms or to keep smiling.

"Look, who's talking to me, in public" the teasing was clear in his voice.

"Mingyu" his name came out of your mouth like a warning.

Even though your tone didn't seem friendly, Mingyu smiled as if having heard a joke. It was almost a losing battle, not smiling while looking at him. You wondered exactly how things had changed, how one day you said "I don’t want to be seen with athletes in public places" to suddenly "talking to an athlete in public and still smiling".

“Sorry.”

Although he was apologizing, you knew that there wasn’t a single bone, or cell, in Mingyu’s body that felt sorry while he was teasing you.

“I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t remember you.”

That’s why you had looked for him, why you had put all your pride aside and sent a message to Seokmin, asking — in the most delicate and unsuspicious way you could imagine — what Mingyu’s last class of the day was. When he seemed too excited about the whole situation, you didn’t even know that someone could be so excited through message, you were forced to ask him not to tell Mingyu that you had contacted him, because you still didn’t know if you would meet him because you had another appointment at almost the same time and might be late. It was a lie, there was nothing, but you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin to simply not tell him.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I don’t remember someone I’ve seen every day for years either.”

You smiled, unable to control it this time, and Mingyu smiled along with you as he took another step closer to you. You knew he was too close, rumors would start spreading around campus any second. You knew you should take a step back, and put more space between you two, you knew you should stop smiling like a teenager. But you just couldn’t force yourself to do anything but stand there.

“You’re making me feel even worse.”

“Seriously, it’s okay. I’m not going to use it to blackmail you or anything like that.”

You wanted to ask him what he could blackmail you with, but that was too close to the line of flirting, and that was an imaginary line you refused to cross with him — even though most of the ones you had set had already been crossed, one by one.

“Thank you,” was all you allowed yourself to say.

He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

“Now that you know you’ve been unfair to me, for years I might add, and I’ve been benevolent enough to forgive your mistake, could you please stop making my life difficult and let me do the assignment with you, without me having to beg?”

You threw your head back, laughing out loud. You wanted to tease him, tell him that he was already begging and pleading, but again, too close to flirting.

“Benevolent? Ah, a man’s ego.” was all you allowed yourself to say as you rolled your eyes at him.

Mingyu smiled, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

“Come on, cut me some slack”

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes again.

“Let’s coordinate our free time and meet up again.”

“Great.”

“A little green bird told me,” you rolled your eyes before Kira could even continue the sentence, “that you were caught with a certain hockey player.”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

Kira had hooked her arm through yours, her voice cheerful. If voices could have shape and were visible to the naked eye, Kira’s would definitely be bouncing around you. She was almost doing it herself.

You knew someone would have seen you talking, you knew someone saw it and wasn’t happy about it at all, you were sure it was only a matter of time until people were talking about it. You just didn’t think it would be so fast. It had barely been five minutes since you had said goodbye to Mingyu, you knew that that gossip was an inherent part of student life, but the quality and speed were impressive.

“Oh, come on! Tell me what you two talked about, I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail.”

Your friend’s voice was soft, almost like a child whining next to you. Kira knew how much you hated it, more than that, she knew that you would tell her everything, every word, just so that she would finally stop making that pitiful face and that shrilling and completely irritating voice.

“We talked about what I talked about with you,” you sighed, “I apologized for not remembering him, he was annoying and in the end we agreed that I wouldn’t stop him from doing the assignment with me.”

“The little green bird also told me that you were smiling and that you were even blushing while you were talking to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. It was true that you had smiled while you were talking to him, you had given up on playing tough. But you were sure that you hadn’t blushed or embarrassed.

“That little bird of yours is wrong. I smiled, yes, but the rest I didn’t do”

“So you didn’t make out in the middle of campus? You didn’t laugh out loud, the kind that makes you throw your head back and close your eyes?”

You simply stared at her, standing in the same place, refusing to move an inch. The student's gossip was fast, impressive, and deceitful.

“Some guy saw you guys and told everyone about it. I was walking by and heard it. They weren’t exactly talking quietly.”

You nodded and started to walk again. You didn’t have anywhere to go, but you didn’t want to stay either. Even if it wasn’t true, you felt like everyone was staring right at you, like you were a circus attraction in the center of the red and white tent.

“Nothing happened. We talked, I smiled, he said something funny and I laughed. That was it.”

It was a little strange that everyone was at your house at the same time. By everyone, you mean Mingyu and Seokmin, who were there to continue the project, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol, the first because it was his house and the second for god knows what — your best bet was that he had come there to see Mingyu, but he could also simply have wanted to see you embarrassed, it was almost like it was his and Jeonghan's favorite pastime.

You hadn't bothered to tell Jeonghan that the two of them were going home with you after class, you were sure that if you had told him and asked him not to be there, he would simply ignore your request. Besides, the rabbit was out of the hat already, there was nothing left to hide. Seungcheol being there was a surprise, but Mingyu knew him too and you figured he had told Seokmin everything.

Seokmin's behavior was surprising. He had greeted Jeonghan and Seungcheol when he came in, chatted with them for a bit, and then sat down at the table with you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had scolded him and just how harsh he had been — though you didn’t think Mingyu and harsh were words that went together.

“Sorry about the other day,” Seokmin said. “I was just surprised.”

You shook your head. You had thought a lot about that day, about how you would have reacted in a very similar way if you had run into someone you were a fan of like that, at someone’s house from college. You had been taken by surprise, and that was one of the things you hated the most. You liked to have everything under control, to have all the cards in your hands, to know all the information before actually getting into a situation. You had made a bet by taking Mingyu and Seokmin home, and you lost. That had nothing to do with Seokmin.

“If I were his fan, I would have reacted the same way,” you assured him, not liking that he had become so quiet and introverted. “And look, they love the attention, so you can go as crazy as you want, you have my approval. And if they complain, you can talk to me.”

Seokmin laughed and turned his attention back to the book open in front of him, reading carefully and taking notes in the notebook next to it.

It wasn’t long before Mingyu entered the room too, still laughing a little at whatever he had talked to Jeonghan and Seungcheol about. He seemed distracted as he sat down and took his cell phone out of his pocket, placing it on the table, face down after checking the notifications.

It was impossible not to think about the conversation you had with Kira days ago, the fact that suddenly the entire college believed that you had hooked up because you had only talked for a few minutes. Could it have been gossip that had spread uncontrollably and thus taken on traits that had nothing to do with reality, or had Mingyu, in all his stereotype of dumb athlete and famous for being a womanizer, spread lies around, bragging about something that hadn't happened?

You hoped it wasn't the second option, not when hating someone for simply existing was just so much work, not when you had started to think he was a cool guy, not when every time you got a message from him you felt like an excited teenager seeing signs where there was supposed to be only a black screen.

"There's something I want to know," the voice came from the living room, distant at first, but getting closer with each syllable.

You were sure that this sudden approach from Seungcheol couldn't bring anything good. Especially when he had a cocky smile on his lips, the kind that you knew, just by looking at him, that he was not going to do anything worth of noticing and at any second someone was going to be embarrassed. And, in this case, you were sure that someone would be you.

Jeonghan was right behind him, his eyes showing that he didn’t know what it was about, but seemingly enjoying the whole situation.

“Seungcheol,” his name came out of your lips in a mix of warning and plea.

“When we were in school, you,” he stopped behind Mingyu, his hands on the younger’s shoulders as he leaned forward, “had the biggest crush on our dear youngest Yoon”

You closed your eyes and wished that someone, anything, would hit Seungcheol in the head with all its strength, to the point he would faint and no longer be able to open his mouth to say a bunch of nonsense.

You turned to Jeonghan, who seemed confused by the whole situation — having been completely taken by surprise by Seungcheol's revelations. His eyes went from you, to Mingyu, to Seungcheol, and back to Mingyu.

Mingyu was pale as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his hands frozen in front of his body. The pen that was spinning between his fingers had rolled across the table and stopped in front of Seokmin, who was looking at the situation in complete shock.

“Do you still have a crush on her or is that a thing of the past?”

“Oh for the love of god, Seungcheol, shut up.”

Even Jeonghan, who loved a joke, a tease to the very last second, was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't know where to put his hands or who to look at. Mingyu seemed to want to sink into his chair. Seokmin had his chin glued to his chest, his eyes completely focused on the open book.

“Dude”

Jeonghan slapped Seungcheol on the head, who was just laughing at the situation as if everything was a big joke to him and probably it really was. The only problem was that no one was laughing with him.

“That's a valid question! I'm sure you're curious too”

You pushed the chair you were sitting in back hard, the friction of the metal on the floor probably leaving marks that would be there forever.

“Seriously, what's your problem?”

You grabbed the hood of Seungcheol's coat and pulled him out of the room, while he complained and made a fuss.

“You're strangling me!”

You rolled your eyes.

“At least you'll stop talking shit”

You stopped only when you were close to the door and could reach the doorknob with your free hand.

“It’s just a joke!” he tried to defend himself.

“You don’t have the right to come to my house and embarrass my friends, so if you don’t know how to behave, you can leave.”

You turned your back to him for a second, just long enough to grab his bag from the couch and throw it into his arms.

“You can’t kick me out, it’s not even your house.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Jeonghan?” you said without turning to look at your brother, your eyes never leaving Seungcheol.

“It’s her house, yeah.”

You raised your eyesbrows at him, mimicking him.

“See? Great, you can go now.”

Needless to say, the rest of the night had been pretty close to a funeral. Jeonghan had holed up in his room and you suspected he was either asleep or dead, because he hadn't made a single sound and hadn't come out for anything.

Mingyu didn't even dare to look at you, much less talk with you. A night that was already embarrassing enough because you still had college rumors swimming around in your brain had gotten even worse because, at some point during the night, Seungcheol had decided, in a not-so-casual way, to drop the bomb that Mingyu had a crush on you.

And no matter how much you thought about it, how many ways you tried to analyze and remember those years, it didn't make sense.

You were sure you had never spoken to Mingyu, that you hadn't spoken directly to him before. The first time you talked was a few weeks before, in college. Even if you didn't remember him, you were certain you hadn't of it. You always made a point of staying away from Jeonghan's teammates, your brother made a point of keeping them away too.

That old story, when one doesn't want to, two don't fight. And in this case, neither you nor Jeonghan had any interest in you getting closer to his teammates.

In your head, it didn't make sense. Seungcheol was just talking a bunch of nonsense because he could, because he knew you never had the urge to argue with him. With Jeonghan? Silly arguments were normal, you sent your brother to hell as easily as you fell asleep after a long day. But not with Seungcheol, because you knew he loved the fights, he had fun, you always chose to just let him talk until he got tired. It was one thing to tease you and another one, entirely too different, to do it with your friends.

Logically, you knew that at some point in the past Mingyu had been friends with him too, but you also knew that that friendship had died the moment Seungcheol graduated from school.

Seokmin was the only one who dared to say something, completely focused on the assignment, but it was obvious that he was trying to break the ice of the situation. Trying and failing.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Seokmin said as soon as he heard the sound of a door coming down the hallway and a second later Jeonghan walked towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s kinda late” Mingyu agreed and stood up.

There was no way to disagree with them, it was late and the mood had gone down the drain. Prolonging the situation would almost be a form of torture for the three of you.

“Sorry about Seungcheol”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands. You wished you had pockets so you could have somewhere to hide them, but the leggings and shirt you were wearing didn’t provide any hiding spots.

“It’s okay, really” Mingyu assured you “He’s always been like this”

Seokmin went into the living room, but you and Mingyu remained standing there, barely breathing. You wanted to ask if it was true, if he really had a crush on you, or if Seungcheol was just trying to annoy someone and chose Mingyu. You also didn't understand what he had said, about Seungcheol “always being like this”. Did he mean annoying or someone who teased his friends with embarrassing secrets? Either answer would be correct but you wanted to hear it from him.

You wanted to ask, but you didn't have the courage. If it was true, it was bad and if it was a lie, it was worse. If it was true, you would feel even worse for not remembering him right away. If it was a lie, it would be bad you had liked to hear, when you knew you shouldn't care.

“I don't know if it's a good time,” he said, “but there's a game on Friday. You could go and take Kira with you.”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish speaking.

“It can’t, I already have a thing already”

“Oh, okay” he nodded and turned to the living room. “Bye, Jeonghan.”

Your brother appeared in the living room, putting his phone in his pocket, but looking like he had heard the entire conversation between you and Mingyu.

“Bye.”

You closed the door when you saw Mingyu and Seokmin enter the elevator. You were ready to hide in your room and try, even if it was impossible, to understand what had happened that night, but of course, Jeonghan had other plans. He was leaning against the wall in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Don’t start,” you warned.

Everything that had happened, not only that night but also during the week, had simply been too much for you. You had just gotten used to the idea of having Mingyu around, you had started to like having him around. But then everything happened so fast. A laugh on the sidewalk had become an unbridled make-out, a smile a declaration of love.

The rumors had gotten worse since that first day. Kira talked about them carefully, mainly because she knew you didn't want to be associated with athletes in any way, but she never failed to tell you anything about what was going on. That's only you begged her to tell you, otherwise it would be like in those cliché movies, the girl walking down the hallway and discovering all the rumors that were going around about her because she overheard someone's conversation.

And it wasn't like you hadn't gotten stares in the hallways, but the truth is that you had gotten used to them when you were still a teenager. Getting into that same skin of an apathetic, uncaring person was pretty easy.

"Why didn't you accept going to his game? You like it. It would have been fun”

And on top of that, as the cherry on the cake, because of course life couldn't just make things a little easier for you, there was that whole shit show from a few hours before. Even though you hated the situation with a passion, you knew there was some truth to it. At that moment, you felt, once again, as if you were still 15 years old, sitting in the living room at home, enduring whatever nonsense Seungcheol decided to say.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy who made jokes out of real situations. In that sense, he was the complete opposite of Jeonghan. Your brother came up with impossible situations, bordering on insanity, and spoke about them with such conviction that you felt compelled to believe him. Seungcheol, on the other hand, took small facts and distorted them, or just exaggerated them in some way.

At that moment, sitting at that table, watching Mingyu's face become completely devoid of any color, you knew it was true. Maybe, yes, an exaggerated version of the truth, but a truth nonetheless.

“Jeonghan, it's just… I can’t”

You walked past him. That scene was too familiar and despite the theme of the conversation being different, you didn't want to have to go through the same situation again.

“Because of me?”

“Because of him.”

You hated seeing that look on Jeonghan’s face like he blamed himself for everything that was wrong with you. Daddy issues? Mommy issues? Apparently, you had brother issues.

“You know, one day I hope you stop caring so much about what people think, because you’re barely living your life right now, hoping that someone, someday, won’t care.”

Jeonghan's words floated through your mind for days. You found yourself standing in the middle of the campus several times, analyzing the people who were walking from one side to the other, some in a hurry, others talking to each other, many too distracted with phones in their hands to pay attention to what was happening around them.

None of them, no matter how much part of your brain said otherwise, seemed to care about you.

Even though you had been the main topic of conversation for a few days, everything changed when someone on the football team got drunk enough to kneel on a bar table crying, declaring his undying love to a girlfriend from elementary school. You had hidden yourself for so long, away from everything that you considered to be a problem, that you had forgotten how things worked.

No one really cared — no one might be a little too much to say, but very few people looked at you and cared about what was happening. It was much easier to understand the situation than to start acting differently, but you hoped it was a start, however small it was.

Your phone started to vibrate in your hand, a second later the screen lit up, and the word mom flashed on the screen. You knew what she wanted. You had been avoiding her calls and messages for a couple days. But you knew you couldn't pretend you were in class anymore, come up with some lame excuse to ignore her. She had even called Jeonghan and asked, or rather ordered, him to tell you to call her. You had avoided it as much as possible.

“Hi, mom”

“Ah, you finally remembered you have a mom”

You could imagine the exact scene: your mother walking back and forth, her hair tied into a low ponytail, gesturing before dropping her hand and slapping her thigh. You couldn't help but smile when you heard the clear sound of footsteps, followed by a slap.

“Sorry, I've been busy. You know how it is.”

“I can always talk to your brother just fine”

You knew she didn’t mean anything, you knew it wasn’t a comparison — at least not a conscious one — but the sentence was received with a sting anyway.

“That’s because Jeonghan has a schedule for literally everything. I study until I nearly blackout or my brain turns to pudding, which ever comes first.”

You walked to nearest bench and sat down with a sigh.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? You and your brother are terrible cooks, and I know he eats at the club most of the time, but what about you? I can come by every week and bring you food, it’s not a problem.”

She kept talking nonstop, you were sure she was already making a list of everything she needed to make enough food for a week.

“Mom!” you said loudly, loud enough for the girl next to you, who had headphones on, to look at you. You smiled awkwardly, lowering your head a little in apology. “Mom, we’re fine. We learned how to cook enough to survive.”

“Noodles are not a real meal.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We have vegetables, rice, and meat at home, Mom. I went shopping yesterday,” you said before she could say anything.

“One of these days I’ll show up and surprise you.”

“And on that day, you’ll find the fridge full and food ready,” you said jokingly.

You were silent for a few seconds, until she spoke again, this time her tone much more cautious.

“I know you don’t like it very much, that you’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than participating in this, but just this year, couldn’t you consider going to the hospital gala? I know it’s the middle of the semester, that you have a lot of things to do, that you’re looking for an internship, but it’s just one night and…”

Even with all the differences you had with your mother, you didn’t like seeing — in this case, hearing — her begging for anything, much less for your presence at an event that you knew was important to the family. Ever since you started refusing to go to it, your mother never forced you to go. She insisted a little on the first year and asked if you hadn’t changed your mind at the last minute. But never like that. For whatever reason, she wanted you at the party, and by extension, you knew your father did too.

“I’ll go, Mom. I’m going to buy a dress tomorrow.”

Despite the distance, you knew your mother’s breath had caught in her throat, that she was trying her best to control herself. She liked parties and glamor and she liked it even more when you attended. And you liked it too, until… until you decided to avoid it.

You had to start somewhere, this whole thing of not caring what people thought. It was best to start somewhere at least somewhat familiar, right?

“I… set… I have…” she cleared her throat and began again “I made hair and makeup appointments for me. You want me to schedule it for you too?”

Her voice was almost shaking, making you feel even worse. Had you alienated yourself from mother to the point where she was shaking just because you agreed to go to a party?

“Could you make an appointment for a manicure too? I need to get my nails done.”

He walked into the room, adjusting his tie around his neck, laughing at whatever his sister had said, hating the feeling of being suffocated. He wanted, almost desperately, to take off the damn tie, but he knew better than to. His sister would laugh at the situation, but his parents, especially his father, would not be happy about it. It's not like he disliked the event itself, but he hated having to pretend. Pretending that he and his parents got along well and that the smiles they gave when someone complimented Mingyu were genuine.

It was all completely and utterly fake.

The truth was that Mingyu barely spoke to his parents. He didn't know when was the last time he had talked to them, just to talk. He didn't know what it was like to ask if everything was okay just because he cared. He didn't know what it was like to send a picture of a place, or anything, to his mom because he could, because he wanted to like he always saw Seokmin do.

He always tried his best to keep his distance. Maybe being so far away from his parents wouldn't make him feel like a complete failure every time he thought about them. Logically, he knew that wasn't the case, he knew he wasn't a failure, but he was a disappointment to his parents. So he kept his distance, it was easier.

He still attended events like that to keep up appearances, that was an important thing to them. Not having received support, affection, or love from his parents since he was 17? Insignificant compared to the need to maintain the idea of a united and happy family in front of their friends.

In the end, he didn't mind going to events like that, supposedly for charity. He liked seeing his sister and deep down he liked seeing his parents' friends praising him and saying how amazing it was that he had a career completely independent of his parents and even without their help.

Mingyu liked to think that his father had opened up about not having helped him at all in an attempt to seem tough and smarter than his son, but that only made him seem bitter every time his career as an athlete was the subject of conversation. Besides, he could see his school friends again. So it was a win-win situation: his parents kept up appearances and he had fun reminiscing about his school days as if it had been 20 years instead of just 3.

“If you keep pulling that tie, it’ll rip,” his sister said, laughing as she forced Mingyu’s hand down.

“It’s suffocating”

“Oh, you poor baby,” she pouted mockingly at Mingyu.

Mingyu shook his head and turned to the rest of the room, looking for a familiar face. He quickly found Jeonghan and Seungcheol but decided not to approach them as he normally would. If it had been last year’s party, Mingyu would have talked to them both, but this time he chose to stay in the same place.

That night at Jeonghan’s house still left a bitter taste in Mingyu’s mouth. He had a plan, which might not have worked — that probably wouldn’t have worked — but if one day you found out about his teenage crush, Mingyu wanted you to find out by him, and not through some guy who had brought it up for no reason. He wanted to ask you out, to go little by little until you felt comfortable with him. But Seungcheol did him the huge favor of throwing everything out the window for a joke.

It’s like that old saying: I lose the friend, but I don’t lose the joke. And Mingyu wasn’t his friend, not now or back in school, so truthfully there was no loss for Seungcheol.

And then he saw you.

For a second he thought it was a mirage. It had been years since you had last been to that kind of event. Your last one was Mingyu’s first. He thought he was imagining things, that he was so crazy wanting to talk to you that he had started to imagine you in places you weren’t.

He watched as you walked right past Seungcheol, even when he tried to talk to you and stopped next to Jeonghan. Your expression was serious, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful.

The strapless dress slid down your body, almost as if it had been molded to your curves perfectly, tailored just for you. Your hair was loose over your back, just two strands framing your face. And your lips... lips painted in the sexiest shade of red he had ever seen.

Forget the little crush he had back in high school, this didn't even compare. It was a goddamn waterfall. Mingyu felt like he was standing next to one too with the way his heart was beating so loudly and deafening in his ears.

It was official, he was lost. He didn't know what to do. It was the first time he had felt this nervous in your presence. Before, it had been like butterflies flying around in his stomach, that kind of fun anxiety, the one that makes one giddy and excited.

He tugged at his tie again and grabbed a glass from the tray of a waiter who passed by. He didn't know what it was and also he didn't care, he needed something to wet his throat. The liquid went down bitterly, burning. The surprise made him have a small coughing fit.

Suddenly it was as if all eyes had turned to him, including yours. You smiled slowly as Minseo patted Mingyu on the back, trying to help, but making the situation even worse.

You quickly turned to Jeonghan, saying something for a second before walking towards Mingyu. With each step you took, he felt like his heart was beating faster and faster, to the point of almost exploding in his chest.

Over your shoulder, he saw Jeonghan smile and give him a thumbs up.

"Go for a walk," he said to his sister, without taking his eyes off you.

Did he say a waterfall? Forget it, it was more like an entire ocean.

Unconsciously, you smoothed your dress at least twice as you walked towards Mingyu. In a place full of so many theoretically important people, much more important than the two of you, it was very easy to go to him. Taking all those steps wasn't scary at all.

The feeling was completely different from that one time you had talked in college. That day, you had waited for him, your fingers trembling a little because you were in a place where anyone could see you. However, at that moment, you didn't feel any kind of nervousness.

Maybe, there was some nervousness, but the good kind. When you're excited to do something, the kind that you were sure would bring good things. You liked to think that the good thing at the moment was Mingyu.

"You look, wow... stunning."

He smiled and it was as if the breath had been taken from you, as if for a whole second your lungs forgot their purpose, forgot that they were supposed to push air into your body.

“Look at you, using pretty words,” you somehow found your voice again.

You tried your best to hide the nervousness you felt, the slight tremor in your voice. You didn’t know why you were feeling that way. You had seen Mingyu so many times, before and after you found out who he was. You had seen him in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt walking around campus; you were at the bar when he walked in wearing an all-denim look and glasses on the back of his head — you remembered finding that way of wearing glasses ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it made sense on him —, you had seen him walking around with his cap on backward.

You had always made a point of staying as far away from him and the circle he frequented as possible, but you could never deny that he was gorgeous. But there, in that moment, in that a black suit, his tie a little crooked and the most magnificent smile you had ever seen, you thought that maybe you didn’t need to force yourself to be away from him all the time.

“Just to impress a beautiful woman.”

You smiled, even though you tried to contain yourself, pressing your lips together. But you knew it was useless. There wasn't a single cell in your body that didn't like the attention you were getting, that didn't like his compliments.

“You haven't been to one of these in years.”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder. Your mother was chatting animatedly with a colleague, her eyes shining as she held out her hand and a second later your father was beside her.

You had all these differences with your parents, things that you disliked about them, and that made you keep your distance from them, but the truth is that you loved them.

When you arrived at your parent's house to get ready earlier that day, your dress in the bag, your backpack almost falling off your shoulders, it was as if you had been transported to your house 8 years before. But it was also different.

You half expected some comment, anything, no matter how small, that could be a comparison with Jeonghan — how even though he was completely busy with work if he didn't have a game or any specific schedule, he would always go to events, while you did everything to avoid it. But the comment never came.

Your mother sat by your side all day, asking you questions about yourself, about college, about the internship. She never mentioned Jeonghan, and when you tried to mention him, the only answer you got was “I don’t want to know about your brother, I want to know about you.”

You wanted to cry when you heard those words. It was the kind of thing you laways wanted to hear from her. The confirmation that you didn’t need to be compared to Jeonghan, that it was okay not to live in his shadow all the time.

“Do you come every year?”

“Yeah, my mother and sister would forgive me if I missed it.”

You nodded with a low noise in the back of your throat and took a step forward, your body a little too close to Mingyu’s, your fingers closing around his tie and pulling it slightly to the side until it was aligned with the buttons of his shirt.

You didn’t know what possessed you to do that. All your sane neurons, which hadn’t melted when he smiled at you for the first time, screamed that you were one step away from insanity, that you were, in fact, already crazy. You were sure that nurses the size of refrigerators would show up and take you to the psychiatric ward of the hospital at any second.

You licked your lips and took a step back, avoiding looking directly at Mingyu.

“It was the first time my mother managed to convince me in years” you admitted.

You looked around, looking for a waiter, wishing one would materialize in front of you, just so you could have something to hold on to, but have something to do with his hands, but there was none around.

“I'll thank her as soon as I see her.”

“You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?”

“Only when there's a gorgeous woman in front of me.”

The rest of the night went by smoothly, without any temporary bouts of insanity. There were a few moments, but you managed to control yourself every time. You managed to control the urge you had when you were next to him, to simply hold his hand.

Your mother was a great help, taking you away from Mingyu now and then to introduce you to some friends and coworkers. Jeonghan was by your side every time you weren't with Mingyu, like a bodyguard. You wondered if he was acting that way because you had said those things to him before; and if your mother's change in attitude was also related. Despite it all, although you had been shown off for part of the night, you had had fun. It could also have been the alcohol talking.

You had accepted a few more glasses than you should have. You were far from drunk, but you were certainly not in your sanest state. However, the alcohol brought a wave of courage to you, which until then had been completely unknown.

Towards the end of the gala, after dinner, when some of the guests had already started to leave, you saw Mingyu at the table next to yours. His parents sat in front of him, his sister next to him, and some people you had no idea who they were sat on at the edges. Mingyu kept his head low, nodding now and then. He seemed desperate to get out of there.

Before reason could prevail, you stood up and walked towards him. You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned your body forward until your face was close to his.

“Can you help me with something?”

You didn't notice the tremor in Mingyu's voice when he asked to be excused because your whole body was shaking too. You smiled at his parents and turned towards the exit, needing some fresh air.

A new wave of tremors and electricity ran through your body when Mingyu put his hand on your lower back. He was neither guiding nor rushing you. His hand was simply there, lightly. He pulled the door open for you and somehow still managed to keep his hand on you.

You liked it, the weight of it, his presence there.

"Did something happen?" he asked when you were far enough from the door and prying ears, letting his hand drop at the side of his body.

You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly missing the warmth from inside.

"No, you just seemed to be suffering" you half smiled, half laughed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic for assuming things.

Mingyu smiled at you then, removing his jacket and dropping it over your shoulder.

"Thank you. If it weren't for you, this night would have sucked entirely"

It was silent for a minute, neither one of you doing anything at all. You were simply standing side by side, his elbow brushing yours from time to time while he rocked on his heels.

It was most definitely the alcohol talking, it had to be because there was no way you'd ever say what you were about to say if it weren't for it. Never, in good and normal conscience you'd have been bold enough. And yet, there you were.

"Can I ask you something?"

You turned to him and got a nod as an answer, his eyes expectant and curious. You forced the words out before you had the chance to stop yourself.

"That day, at my place, Seungcheol mentioned you having a crush on me. Was that true?"

There was a beat of silence, as Mingyu's smile slowly dropped. It was enough to make you regret the question, almost enough to make you regret the whole thing. Seeing Mingyu at the gala was a pleasant surprise, his presence was something you were grateful for during the night. You didn't mean to ruin it at the last minute.

You blamed the alcohol, though it had very little to do with your decision. You had been curious and wanted to ask Jeonghan about it but didn't dare to do so, not when you knew that your brother would be able to read right through you.

You blamed Seungcheol and his constant puppy eyes throughout the night, following your every move. His clear apologetic look, though no sorry words were said. His pride was too big for that.

You blamed yourself too, for being curious about it. You were just fine when he was just a guy from college, someone you'd see now and then in a poster, or someone you heard of in passing.

You blamed Mingyu too.

"Yeah, it was," he finally answered, sinking his hands into his pants pockets.

Screw it, you thought, if it's raining I might as well get drenched.

"And now?"

You held your breath, waiting for his answer.

"Still is," he said, voice soft, this almost apologetic smile on his lips.

You closed your eyes for just a second, somehow lavishing on his answer. There was a small smile on your lips as you turned to him, gripping his tie and pulling him down until you could press your lips to his.

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lee-laurent · 2 days

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T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine

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juslondo · 1 day

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𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘.. caitlin clark

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀— language, AGNSTTTTTTTTTT, c*nner(sorry)!

was it casual when caitlin felt something for you that she hadn’t felt with anyone else? the tingly feeling in her chest when she saw you, a lack of words you talked to her, the way she looked at you.. the smile she always had on her face when her eyes were fixated on you.

was it casual when caitlin would constantly be in your comments, lives, and post? Anytime you talked to someone else, or laughed at somebody else’s joke it ruined her day until you talked to her.

Y’know caitlin never noticed what she felt, you were just a close friend right? no, wrong. It wasn’t until she realized the way she would smile when she figured out she had post game press conferences with you, it wasn’t until she had force herself to look away from lips while your talking, it wasn’t until she started spending less and less time with her boyfriend, it wasn’t until she realized she didn’t want a him she wanted you. She wanted it to be you who kissed her good luck beofre and after games, she wanted it to be you who told her you loved her, she wanted to wake up to you every morning, every single dreadful moment with that man. She wanted it to be you.

it wasn’t until that night..

The team had went out to celebrate their first win of the season, Caitlin had a few drinks but not too many, you weren’t a drinker so you stuck to you apple juice. Quickly you and Caitlin got pretty bored. The team was entertaining Nalyssa’s live while you and caitlin were leaning on a corner of the bar walls. Your back was against her front as her arms were wrapped around your waist that was out due to your crop top.

You two stood in comfortable silence through tiktok on your phone, chuckling at a few videos while Cait’s chin rested on your shoulder. Caitlin let out a small sigh as she lifted her lips to your ear “can we go home? I’m bored” (you two indeed share a hotel room, two beds but she usually sleeps in yours)

“Already? we just got here.” You said as you turned off your phone and put it in your jean skirt pocket. Caitlin lifted her head and pouted as she rubbed your sides a little “please?” She ask as she glances at Aaliyah and Lexi who were laughing about who knows what. You sighed as you removed Caitlin’s hands from your side and interlocked your hands as you pulled her to the bar exit.

You could practically feel caitlin’s smile and burning into the back of your head as you lead her outside the bar. The cool air hit the both of you as you headed to Caitlin’s car.

Once you two got there she opened the passenger door for you and got in the drivers seat herself. As the ride started you and Caitlin sung your favorite songs the whole way there. While at a red light, the song you guys were singing kept stopping because of caitlin’s phone notifications. She sighed as she picked up her phone and saw conner was texting her back to back.

6 messages from C.>

“caitlin”

“you’ve been out all night, come to my hotel”

“caitlin where are you?”

“you didn’t text me after your game, answer your phone.”

“We need to start sharing locations I be worried about you”

“I miss you babe cmon”

Caitlin cringed at the messages as she simply put her phone on dnd and turned back up their music. You looked over at Caitlin who still had a werid look on her face. “You good?” You asked as she looked over at you and grinned. “yeah” She said as she placed her hand on your thigh. Your demeanor didn’t change as she always did that. It was casual, right?

When You and Caitlin made it back to your hotel, you were laughing as you two stumbled in, her hand resting lightly on your side. She closed the door behind the both of you with her foot and locked the door with her free hand. You made your way to your bed and sat down, taking off your sneakers that you wore, you sighed of relief when you got them off. “my feet were killing me” You chuckled softly as she layed down on your back, looking up at the ceiling.

Caitlin joined you, laying beside you on the bed, after about a minute you turned your head to face caitlin who was already looking at you. You felt this werid tingly feeling in your stomach when you saw caitlin’s greenish eyes looking into yours. “hey” She said dragging it out a little as she chuckled, making you laugh.

You were always giggly around Caitlin, You looked at her and always had to control your smile. “hey” you said back as you couldn’t really stop smiling. After a minute of just laughing at eachother, the laughter died down into peaceful silence. Cait looked at you, as if she was examining your every feature. After a minute of looking at you Caitlin’s eyes met yours “you’re so pretty” Caitlin said making you loss for words.

You didn’t really know what to say, I mean yeah caitlin had called you pretty many times, even sexy, she loved calling you sexy. but let’s not get off track. This time it felt different, like she was truly admiring you, the word pretty felt like the best compliment in the world coming out of caitlin’s mouth. why was something so small affecting you like this?

“Thank you..” you said as you slowly got lost in her daring eyes, that always seem to catch your attention. “y’know returning the compliment would be nice” Caitlin said making you laugh out of nervousness, once you got yourself together you looked back at caitlin for the 100th time tonight. “you are very pretty caitlin” you say as Caitlin’s expression softens. She doesn’t say anything, no, but her eyes spoke for her.

No. This couldn’t happen, she was caitlin clark, a women. She had the whole media and on her back they couldn’t see her do anything different or be with a girl. She had to stay with conner. It would never work, yall would never work.

But you didn’t know that, so after that night you were confused, on why caitlin stopped texting you good morning or good night. Why she stopped calling you nick names, or why she started talking to you less.

Everytime you were around her it felt like she was forcing everything, forcing herself not to talk to you, forcing herself not to touch you in any kind of way. Where did it all go wrong? Was it that night? the realization that ran through caitlin’s eyes as you called her pretty, the meir thought that you guys might’ve kissed that night, was it the way caitlin frowned her eyebrows in confusion trying to find out why her heart fluttered the way it did, why she had to force herself not to smile?

As their game against chicago sky came to an end indiana came out with the the win. You pull your jersey up and wipe the slight sweat off of your forehead. As you look back up, your eyes searched for caitlin, even if caitlin was acting weird toward her she still would look for her everytime. Ever since the season started you and Caitlin would hug after every game, loss or win. But this time it was different, odly caitlin was more than ten feet away from you.

After a few minutes of looking you sighed and started to make your way to the tunnel as everyone else was signing things, doing interviews or just celebrating with eachother. Before you entered the tunnel you looked to your left and you wish you didn’t. You saw caitlin there.. hugging conner.

Her hands wrapped around his waist as his wrapped around her neck. Your face went numb, the feeling felt unreal, you got attached.. again. why? It was obvious caitlin didn’t like you it was just casual things. It was casual when you guys stayed up all night talking about your futures, and somehow your futures always had eachother in it. You took everything the wrong way.. how stupid of you..

Beofre you could see anything else you speed walked into the tunnel, making your way to the empty locker room. It hurt, knowing that it would never be you. Knowing that you can caitlin would be in eachothers futures but not how you wanted to.

“that’s just the way life goes”

but caitlin never wanted it to be like this, but that’s what she did when she was afraid, she closed off, and she walked away, she walked away from her problems. She didn’t know how else to deal with this feeling, and talking to you wasn’t an option.

“I like to slam doors closed”

As you took some of your things from your locker, just doing anything to keep your mind off caitlin, but she’s all you can think about is her. Did you do something wrong? was it your hair? was it your face? was it how you acted? why wouldn’t she pick you? You knew this wasn’t a minor crush, this was more. But the sad part was, you knew it would never be you. As the team started huddling into the locker room you acted like you were doing something in your locker, trying to keep the tears that were on the edge of falling. Unlucky for you caitlin’s locker was right beside yours.

This would be the time where you usually would be talking or laughing with eachother, but no. It was silent.

“trust me, i know it’s always about me”

caitlin could feel that you were sad, she knew the way she had been acting, the change of her actions, she knew it had hurted you, all she wanted to say was that she wanted you, she wanted it to be you, she wish it could’ve been you, but everything in her knew. it couldn’t. “hey” Caitlin looking up at you, you slowly shivered from her voice that hadn’t talked to you in weeks. You looked up at her just as the tear fell. Caitlin knew it was because of her, and hated herself for it.

Through all the emotions you were feeling you let out a small obviously fake and barley noticeable grin, which was different from your normal jolly, happy, demeanor that caitlin was used to. “hey” you said as she grabbed your bag from your locker and walked out, leaving caitlin their stumped. She wanted to stop you, she wanted to tell you how she felt, but she didn’t. She watched you walk out the door with a small tear falling down her pale cheek.

As the cold air hit your tear stained face, you leaned against the brick wall, letting out soft sobs. A small hope wishing that caitlin would come out and choose you, tell you that it was you, but she didn’t. It would never be you..

“i love you, im sorry”

an: shed a tear or two.. but this is my first fic!!! do yall like it?? and feel free to request!!

#caitlin clark smut #indiana fever #wnba basketball #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #lesbian #pazzi #paige x reader #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #iowa wbb #wbb x reader

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notsoverymerry · 1 day

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Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were.

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable.

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly.

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules.

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone.

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games.

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse.

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out.

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one.

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention.

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter.

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen.

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side.

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you.

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions.

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug.

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths.

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face.

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were.

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became.

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew.

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there.

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck.

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts?

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face.

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same.

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise.

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste.

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off.

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin.

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim.

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine.

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders.

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids.

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.''

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically.

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right.

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to.

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out.

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.''

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up.

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little.

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.''

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!''

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.''

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too.

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #fanfic #smut #x reader #fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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whimsyfinny · 3 days

Text

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

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Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut

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castiwls · 3 days

Text

bed chem .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'i bet we'd have really good bed chem'

Requested; anon

Notes; requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

It wasn’t often you found yourself drawn to a stranger sitting in the bar on a random Tuesday night. Normally the patrons of your local bar were your father's age and tended to come simply to chat up the bartenders and start fights over who won at pool.

Yet today it was different.

You’d noticed him almost immediately and it seemed he’d noticed you as well as in record time you’d found yourself tucked away in a back corner laughing at whatever joke fell from his mouth. One-night stands had never been a good idea - one too many awkward next mornings had all but made the whole idea lose its charm.

Yet sitting her now? You’d never been more ready for an awkward morning in your life.

You’d never understood what your friends had meant when they spoke about instant sexual attraction. How they could look at a guy and just know yet right in this moment you finally understood.

“You can’t be serious?” You laughed, taking a sip from your drink as the stranger - who you now knew as Dean - simply grinned and nodded his head. “As serious as I can be sweetheart.” He shot you a wink before finishing his own drink and placing the glass down with a quiet ‘click.’

He watched you for a moment, his green eyes shining under the dim lights of the bar. His eyes seemed to ravish you almost as his gaze slowly raked over your face, a slight flutter settling in his stomach.

“So, what brings you to this fine establishment on a tuesday night? I’m sure there is more… interesting places for a woman like you.” He raised an eyebrow, a smile which could only be described as charming growing on his lips as he watched you blush slightly.

Seeming satisfied with himself he slowly crept a hand across the small table, his fingers brushing yours where they were still wrapped around your glass. Your own heart was thundering in your chest as his touch seemed to light your skin on fire.

Your own eyes watched his hand for a moment before clearing your throat. “Small town. Not many options.” A small hum left him as his other hand tapped the table for a moment. “Tight nit.” Dean nodded looking over to the barman for a moment.

The man sent him a guarded look as he watched you both closely while cleaning a glass. “Not everyone's as welcoming as you.”

Nodding you shifted in your seat. “Small town you know. Everyone knows everyone…we’re all pretty close.”

Dean looked back to you, his smile returning. “Your friend at the bar looks about ready to chop my head off.” His smile slowly slipped into a smirk as an idea lit up in his head. The bar tender had been giving him shit all night - all day actually but you didn’t know that.

He was more then sure that he was the guy they were looking for but you seemed far more interesting. This could be a win win almost for him, he’d get the girl and also maybe provoke the guy into acting to prove that he actually was who they were looking for.

A quiet laugh left you. The sound was music to his ears almost as he watched your eyes crinkle. “Coles harmless he’s just…protective.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

You hummed quietly raising the glass back to your lips but Dean’s hand stopped you. His own hand wrapped around yours, bringing the glass back down to the table before leaning closer, his knees brushing yours.

Was this actually happening?

His hand reached out to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Are you trying to sweet talk me?”

“Is it working?” He grinned, his eyes lingering on your lips.

Shifting you lent closer, your faces only inches apart. “You have a car?”

The words seemed almost foreign on your tongue. The drink giving you a confidence you’d never had before.

But something inside you was screaming that this was the right thing to do.

Dean’s own eyes widened before he cast a look at the door. “I like your thinking.”

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fruitjoos · 2 days

Text

do you trust me?

bully!patrick x reader

summary: bully patrick…. leads to [redacted] 18+

warnings friendly banter, light smut + i’m a little rusty so… be gentle

you met patrick when you were ten. he lived next door, just a skinny kid with dirty sneakers who always wanted to ride bikes. you didn’t mind. the two of you were inseparable then, tethered by boredom and proximity. you got older, though. things shift. kids don’t stay innocent, not for long.

by high school, patrick had drifted, caught up with the boys who reeked of arrogance and cigarettes, the ones who slammed lockers too hard and swaggered through the halls like they owned them. you were still you. quiet, stubborn. not the kind of person who backed down, but never loud about it either. when patrick started cracking jokes at your expense, you told yourself it didn’t matter. it shouldn’t, but god, did it sting. the way he laughed too loud, punched your shoulder too hard, joined his new friends in making you the punchline.

the first time he called you "freak" it landed like a rock to the chest. right there in the middle of a crowd, his voice sharp, eyes avoiding yours. you tried to brush it off, tried to pretend that the patrick from years ago was still buried somewhere under the snide smirks and dirty jokes. but when he started pulling your hair, burping in your face, it was harder to believe.

then there was the history project. the one that felt like a joke before it even started. partners, the teacher said, and you hoped, quietly, fiercely, that patrick wouldn’t be assigned to you. but life has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t it? your name with his, as if the universe couldn’t resist rubbing salt in the wound. his groan reached your ears before yours even escaped your throat, and when he asked to switch partners, the heat rose to your cheeks. it was like you were something to be ashamed of, something small and pitiful.

after school, he found you at your locker, the same locker he used to stand next to, back when he wasn’t so... different. "what's up, loser," he muttered, shoulder checking you as if it were nothing, like you hadn’t spent summers kicking soccer balls in the backyard, sharing popsicles and trading comic books. now, all he had for you was sarcasm and a half hearted, "i’ll be over at six to work on the project."

he didn’t even wait for a reply. just walked off, hands shoved in his pockets like the conversation was already forgotten. his friends watched him go, smirking, like you were just another part of their cruel little game.

you got home, trying to shake off the sour taste the day left in your mouth. your dad asked how school was, but it was a formality. he wasn’t really listening, not past your shoulder, at least. "good," you lied, because the truth wasn’t worth the effort.

then the doorbell rang. you knew it was him before you even checked. he used to come over without knocking, back when things were simpler. now, it felt wrong, like he didn’t belong here anymore, yet he walked in like he still did, brushing past you without so much as a glance. the strap of his bag almost hit your face. typical.

your mom lit up like it was some reunion, like she didn’t notice the shift between you. “patrick, sweetheart,” she cooed, pulling him into a hug, her hand smoothing over his curls like she used to. it made your stomach twist, hearing her treat him like he hadn’t changed. but he had, hadn’t he?

you didn’t wait around for their small talk. upstairs felt safer, quieter. patrick followed, like he always had a right to, like he didn’t need to ask permission. he knew the way. he’d been in your room a hundred times. back then, when he was your friend. now, though, he was just the guy who sat behind you in class, yanked your ponytail when he wanted answers, and whispered insults under his breath.

funny how things turn out.

time dragged, the minutes between words heavy, like even the clock didn’t want to be there. patrick sat slouched at your desk, picking at his fingernails, bored already. he mentioned he only had an hour. just enough time before he had to meet his friends at the dump. a dive bar downtown, the kind of place that smelled like sweat and stale beer. you raised an eyebrow, asking if he was even old enough to get in, knowing full well he wasn’t. he pulled out a fake ID with a flourish, like it was something to be proud of. 23. five years older than his real age. you shook your head, a bitter scoff escaping before you could stop it.

"what?" he snapped, catching the edge in your voice. "stop being such a goody two shoes, will you?" he leaned in, voice dropping low, sharp. "no one likes a prude." his words, hissed in your own room, your space, hit harder than you thought they would. this wasn’t the boy who used to make you laugh until you cried. this wasn’t the patrick who snuck out to the park with you at midnight, just to talk about stupid dreams and shared your secrets with.

you could feel the tears gathering, uninvited, in the corners of your eyes. you didn’t want to cry. not in front of him. not when he’d see it as some kind of victory. but it was like he could sense it, the moment your breath hitched. he sighed, like the weight of your sadness was too much for him to carry. “don’t,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “don’t cry, okay?”

but it was too late, and the first tear slipped down your cheek. you sniffled, wiping at your face quickly, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, but his tone changed. "i’m sorry," he said, almost too soft to believe. he said it again, as if repetition might make it real. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it.”

for a few long moments, neither of you said anything. you sat there, on the edge of your bed, while he fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket, the silence growing thicker, heavier.

then he spoke, too casually, too easily. “i know how to make you feel better.”

“lay back,” he said, his voice firmer than you expected, almost a command. you blinked, caught off guard. “what?” you asked, still wiping the tears from your cheeks, not sure if you heard him right.

“do you trust me?” he asked, and his eyes had that look again, the one that used to be familiar, the one that always dared you to go along with whatever half baked idea he had.

“no,” you scoffed, voice thick, still bitter from his words earlier. you didn’t even hesitate, but your chest tightened a little, because there was a time when that question wouldn’t have needed to be asked.

he tilted his head, the silent gesture pressing the question again, almost like a challenge. you sighed, exhaling the fight from your lungs. “fine,” you muttered, lying back from the edge of the bed. you didn’t know why you were giving in. maybe a part of you still believed that under all the rough edges, he was still the patrick you used to know.

his eyes scanned over your room for a second before grabbing something. “put this on,” he said, handing it to you.

you looked down at it, blinking in confusion. a pink sleeping mask, silky and soft to the touch. ridiculous, absurd. you stared at it, then at him, trying to make sense of the moment. “what... are you doing?” you asked, more to yourself than him.

he didn’t answer, just nodded toward the mask. you could tell he was waiting, watching, like the whole thing was some inside joke you weren’t in on yet. for reasons you couldn’t explain, you did as he said, slipping the mask over your head. maybe you were tired. maybe you just didn’t want to argue anymore. or maybe, somewhere deep down, you did still trust him, even if you hated admitting it.

you blinked, confused, the world blurring slightly behind the mask. there was no sound, no movement from patrick, just this heavy stillness. the quiet stretched on, unsettling, until suddenly, you felt his hands lifting up your skirt—firm, steady, grasping your thighs. he pulled them forward, guiding your legs around his shoulders.

“patrick?” your voice came out small, the confusion clear, but you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read whatever expression he wore. just as his name left your lips, you felt him move, closing the space between you. and then, unexpectedly, a cold, slimy glob landed with a wet splat on your cunt. his lips met your soft, surprisingly already soaked pussy. soft, warmer than you imagined, pressing gently but with a certainty that made your heart lurch.

it was so sudden, so out of place in the middle of this strange, awkward moment that your mind couldn’t catch up to your body. for a second, you froze, not sure what to do or think. this was patrick. the same boy who had spent the past year mocking you, pulling at your hair, calling you names. but now, here he was, lapping up your juices, his breath mingling with the heat radiating from your core, like none of that had happened. like this was the only thing that mattered.

his velvety tongue swirled around your pink, swollen nub. your body jolted as his teeth nipped at it. your mouth hung open as you gripped onto the sheets, trying to ground yourself. the slurping sounds he made sent shivers up your spine, “fuck.” you gasped, almost uncontrollably. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against your clit. almost like he was in love with it. in love with you. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he added, his warm breath adding to your pleasure. he asked if you forgive him and all you could do was nod, whimpering a small, “yes.” your eyebrows knitting together in satisfaction. his tongue flicked over your clit vigorously, making you come within seconds.

your hole clenched rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. your fingers tangled in a few of his curls. “when did you learn how to do that?” you panted, eyes still covered. he shrugged as if you could see him before pulling the mask from over your eyes. your cheeks instantly flushing when reality hit you. your ex best friend, bully or whatever just sucked an orgasm out of you. for fun. to please you. to make you forgive him. because he still cares, clearly.

he pressed his lips that were smothered in your liquids against your own. the taste of yourself soaking into your tongue. “you were my first experiment,” he murmured, his voice low. before you could process the weight of his words, he leaned in again, pressing another soft, almost calculated peck against your trembling lips.

#challengers #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #challengers smut

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periprose · 2 days

Note

May i request a Logan x angel!reader fic where the reader had to get medical treatment after a mission because her angel wings (that are apart of her mutation) were burned and partially damaged after battle, and Logan comes in to check up on her?

anon I loved this ask ahhhh thank you. I'm like half considering making this a series if people want it (so send more angel requests if you're into it!) <3 I may have made it more angsty but there is fluff at the end :) also reader goes by Angel in this fic.

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan gains an Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, X-Men stuff, idiots in love, angst, hurt no comfort, fluff, kissing

The first time your mutation made it’s appearance– sharp shoulder blades growing into thick appendages, soft, buttery white feathers extending from them in that unhuman way, your wingspan making it clear you would never be normal– your mother retched and said she would have done anything to chop them off of you. Would’ve done anything to have a normal kid.

In fact, she tried, multiple times, to do so. You were only twelve when she came at you for the first time, in your sleep, feeling falsely secure in your father’s platitudes about how she would never really do anything. You woke up to her reaching inside your blanket, grasping one of your wings as she brandished a knife in her other hand. Luckily, your wings were strong enough to shove her off, but you remember how you screamed at her.

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

She didn’t listen, coming at you again, promising in delirious anger that everything would be okay soon if you would just let her fix it, and she had to be held back by your father, as he called the police.

Because you were her kid, she got let off with a warning, and you were stuck. So you would often fly to the tallest treetops and take your rest there, trying your best to ignore your mother’s other attempts on your life. She didn’t seem to ever get it. You would never be normal.

The final attempt was probably the worst, and the one that caused you to fly away in the end to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

You were twenty years old, just old enough to legally leave home– you only stayed because your father insisted.

She set your favourite tree on fire. You had no idea your mom had been in enough anguish to essentially murder you for daring to be different.

You awoke to the deep smell of smoke, of tree bark charring, and then you heard the cracking and sparks. The tree quickly caught fire, and you shrieked in pure terror as the heat of the flames approached you. The immense light emitting from the fire blinded you, and suddenly there was a sharp pain from your wings and back– you were getting scorched.

So you flew upwards, high enough that the fire dissipated off your back instantly in the cool night sky’s air, and you were fine. Nothing to show other than a little scar, and the sounds of mutiny coming from your mother below.

You chose to forget her– no point in repairing a relationship with a woman who didn’t want you as you were.

But you’ve never forgotten the pain of being burned alive.

“Angel. You ready?” Logan is to your right in the foyer of the mansion. “Everyone else is waiting in the helicarrier.”

He’s your best friend, has been ever since you came to the X-Mansion as a runaway. It’s not an uncommon story among mutants, but Logan always felt you were like him. Rough, not the easiest to speak to, having a tendency to keep to yourself.

The major difference to him is that you’re a lot easier on the eyes.

Seriously, it was almost like the universe was playing a joke on him. Here was a beautiful girl with literal angel wings, just missing a halo as she arrived at the door for the School for the first time, and he just happened to be the first ugly motherfucker to open the door.

Logan’s never quite sure why you keep up with him, why you stay friends with him, if he was just lucky enough to be the first person you saw and liked. It drives him nuts, the way in which you rely on him, trust him more than he thinks he deserves, you come to him at every moment just to talk over everyone else, when surely you could have anyone else’s attention.

Especially any stupid guy, like him. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed– even now on the staircase, he can’t tear his gaze away from you. Logan feels bad to be so in love with you, too– he wonders if he’s reading into things too much, if he’s pushing for something that isn’t really there.

And he’ll never know, because you’re so damn flighty. Logan can barely keep up with your whims, and he only knows as much as you’ll tell him about yourself (he hardly knows where you came from that fateful first day), so he just lets you come and go as you please. He’ll keep his feelings deep inside, where you can’t possibly find out about it.

“Yup, I’m fine.” You have a brief smile for him, which gives him that familiar twist of the stomach. “Oh. You’re not wearing your uniform?”

“It’s better to be incognito for this one, according to Scott.” Logan says, adjusting his flannel, mildly enjoying how you check him out.

You’re wearing the typical X-Men uniform– bright yellow, blue stripes down your sides, room for wings with a removable panel in the back. You let them loose, now, telling Logan you’ll be right back.

When you return, with quite a flourish, flapping wings in a true superhero-landing– Logan sees that you’re wearing a tank-top, and some jeans that really, really highlight your ass– but he tries not to focus on that.

“Hey. Tank’s inside out, Angel.” Logan says, waiting for you to fly off again, but you simply take off the tank top, and pull it back on the right way, exposing your bra-covered chest and lithe waist for the briefest of moments, while Logan loses whatever he was about to say. “I…”

“Don’t be a perv, Logan.” You jokingly side-eye him, never suspecting that that could actually be true as you tease him. “You’ve seen me change tons of times.”

“Yeah, but out in the open?” Logan stares at you. “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of admirers if you keep that up.”

“It’s just me, please.” You start up this whole I’m-not-pretty schtick that Logan is pretty sick of hearing, and he shakes his head. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Yeah, Logan thinks, they are waiting, but he’s not sure you needed to be all quick and nonchalant about changing, just to get there faster.

That’s what he means by you being flighty– who knows what’s really in your heart, when you act so quickly?

“Listen up, X-Men. We’re gonna do our best to avoid damages today, right?” Scott speaks with the air of a leader who’s very fed up with his team members.

There’s a resounding yes from everyone, including you, Logan, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty.

“What’s our mission?” Scott says, and you answer first.

“Find the new mutant.” You state, and Scott nods, while Logan hides a smile at how adept you’ve gotten at these missions.

“Make sure he doesn’t defect to the Brotherhood.” Jean adds, looking at you and Logan, seeing how close you two sit to each other. She’s kept it to herself– but Jean thinks if you and Logan really do have something going on, that would be nice. For the both of you.

“No damages.” Logan chimes in, and Scott visibly loses a little composure.

“I already said that.” Scott points out, and Logan shrugs.

“Well, it’s part of the plan, isn’t it?” Logan leans back in his seat on the helicarrier, nestling his head next to your shoulder, not noticing the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden contact. “Better than me not listening at all.”

“Sure, Logan. Fine.” Scott lets it go, knowing better than to ask more from the most “chill” (read: laziest) member of the team.

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

The new mutant is kind of old– you’re looking for a 19 year old with severe singing around his clothes, pale skin, and black hair. You suppose he’d be extremely frightened.

Most mutants don’t deal well with becoming different all so suddenly, let alone at the very late age of 19, when you could assume that you’re pretty much normal. So you and Jean are hoping to find him first– you figure you’re the two that could calm him down.

Unfortunately, you find Jubilee talking to him first. She’s okay, but she has a tendency to be a little too bombastic, as Jean says quite often.

“And there she goes.” Jean grimaces as Jubilee taps the new mutant’s shoulder, and you pick up her saying that “she’s just like him,” which you’re not sure is a delicate way to deal with the topic.

There are crowds of people walking through the streets, too, and a lot of them are glancing at this yellow-jacketed girl talking to a boy with burnt clothes.

If you had found him, you would have brought him to the side, away from people, and–

“His face turned white. He’s freaking out.” You tell Jean, and her eyes narrow.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty are nowhere in sight, so this is just one weird young adult speaking to another one, and you really, really wish the rest were here. You, Jean, Logan and Scott are a bit older– perhaps comforting in your age– but you feel like the boy would’ve done well with more peers.

Jubilee raises her hand as you and Jean approach her. “Guys, I got it under control. See, Kyle, these are more people like us. More mutants.”

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

“Kyle?” You try, and he looks at you– there’s something in his eyes that tells you he wants to trust you, but he’s scared– it reminds you of yourself. “We’re here for you if you want us to be. Take your time. Don’t worry.”

You smile, Jean smiles, Jubilee grins, and Kyle seems okay.

It lasts for about two seconds.

Someone drops what sounds like a glass bottle in the distance, and the shattering sound is enough for Jubilee to gasp, a little spark of fireworks launching from her fingertips, towards Kyle, who watches on in trepidation, and his body starts shaking, moving of it’s own accord, clearly reacting to being so close to another form of heat– and you and Jean move, as you yell out “Wait!–”

Kyle shrieks in fear as his body becomes overtaken with flames, combusting with such intensity that the flames roar at least 100 feet over, and Jean– Phoenix that she is– is able to withstand the heat, but you find yourself being pushed back by hot gusts of wind.

It hurts, it feels as if your skin is melting with every passing second. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe as Kyle loses control of his body, and you open your wings, deciding that flying off into the cool air would be a better alternative.

That was a mistake on your part.

The moment you open your wings, Kyle’s fire pushes you backwards, and up, into the hot air, and your wings catch fire as you come too close–

You scream, but it’s unheard through the roar of the flames, and you barely have time to catch yourself as you fall towards the ground, smoking, fiery tendrils engulfing you.

The last thing you remember is your mother’s face.

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

Scott wanted him to be as close as possible, something about keeping watch on him– and Logan gets it, he’s not always the most responsible, but later on, in hindsight, he wishes he was, because then he wouldn’t have missed what happened to you– and they both turn as a fire overtakes a block of the city.

“Shit, that must be him!” Scott starts running, Logan not far behind.

It’s only when he sees a pair of white wings, a woman flying up, up, up, the fire approaching dangerously close to her– to you– he starts speeding up, overtaking Scott, pushing people out of the way.

Logan wonders what he could do, anyways. He’s invincible, practically, incapable of taking on much damage as his regenerative abilities heal him– perhaps he could run to the kid and knock him out, sustaining burns in the process, but better him than you.

Never you.

Any second now– Logan sees the boy, and he’s got an open fist ready to lightly tap the back of his neck.

He’s not fast enough. Scott yells out, and Logan looks up to see you engulfed in flames, as you scream, and it’s awful to hear– usually you seemed so speedy, so ready to fly at a moment’s notice, that Logan forgot you could be hurt.

He calls out your name. It’s unheard by you as you crash on the ground, still burning– Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue have caught up to you from the other side of the street, and Bobby quickly makes an icy mist that subdues the flames on you, and Kyle’s roaring fire back into him.

You’re unconscious as the X-Men approach you.

Logan touches your face as he kneels next to you, the only one willing to come close right now. “Hey, Angel…”

There’s that unspoken fondness between you two, yet again. Everyone knows, even when Logan has tried to act cool about it. Even now, when Logan attempts to act like he isn’t totally hanging on to your potential words, searching for a breath, a little movement of your head.

Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and the rest look on in trepidation.

You don’t respond, and he feels his heart plummet. You’re covered in burns, mostly across your stomach and back, and he inhales sharply as he turns you over– there’s fresh, scalded skin, crispy-red to the touch.

Your back, your wings– they’re damaged so badly, with feathers singed straight off, the muscular appendages more visible and wounded, and Logan doesn’t know if you’re alive. He almost removes his hands from you, the very thought seeming to scald him from the inside, and he glares at the kid– the one who looks terribly guilty, now, as he runs away.

“Get back here!” Kitty shouts at him, anger in her eyes, and Scott pulls her aside, explaining that it was clearly an accident of sorts– something that Jean confirms for him with a nod of her head.

Right, Jean. Logan knows that if anyone could confirm if you’re alive, it would be her.

As Scott, Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee go hunting for the kid– Rogue stays behind because she’s always felt close to you and Logan– Logan looks up at Jean in a solemn, teary-eyed look that has her understanding immediately.

“C’mon, Angel… stay with us.” She mutters, as she presses her fingers to your head, and she smiles comfortingly at Logan.

“She’s still here. Just barely, but still here.” Jean says, and Logan sighs, an angry, long sigh that tells Jean and Rogue that he’s going to be insufferably feeling at-fault here, even though no one is.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up, feeling the burnt skin through that damn tank-top, now barely being held together as tatters– for modesty’s sake, he takes off his flannel and wraps it around you.

Rogue lets Logan and you walk forward a bit, not wanting him to hear what she’s about to say, and then looks towards Jean. “He really loves her, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jean exhales. “Let’s hope for his sake that she’ll be okay.”

Stupid bitch! You’ve been nothing but a curse on this family– fuck you, I hope your future daughter is just as fucked up as you are–

You awake suddenly, with a loud gasp and yell, your mother’s last words to you flashing on your mind– you attempt to pull yourself forward restrained back by tubing in your arm. You’re stuck in a bed. In a hospital bed of sorts.

Not just any hospital bed, one in the hospital wing of the X-Mansion.

You’re calm, at first, until there’s a sudden ache echoing from your back, through your body, through your wings.

“Ah–!” You groan in pain. Trying to move suddenly has hurt you.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s Beast– or, Dr. Hank McCoy, as he’s better known around the hospital wing.

“You’re awake.” Hank says in relief. “It’s been a few days since your accident.”

“It has?” You widen your eyes in shock. “How, w-what… am I okay?”

The last thing you remember is Kyle exploding in flames, causing you to catch fire– then you blacked out, and– you’re having terrible memories of your mother.

“Hank?” You mutter, and he’s quick to come to your side, blue paw-hand holding your own.

“My mother didn’t…”

“No, she’s not here. She’s never come close to you. You’re safe.” Hank states, as Charles has told him to, remembering the few times you’ve had to come to the hospital wing for comfort before.

So many mutants have troubled backstories, and he doesn’t quite understand why you don’t try to connect with others about it. Hank feels it could really help, but you’ve always changed the subject away from you.

You’re hurt, mentally, in a way that no one can really fix, and Hank is a big believer in letting people progress when they need to– but he’s so glad that you’ve bonded with Logan.

“Am I going to be okay?” You tap the side of the bed, fears present in your eyes. “Last thing I remember is Kyle going crazy, and I– I got all burnt–”

“Yes, you’re going to be okay. We’ve administered lots of injections, topical ointments, everything that boosts your healing. You might have some scarring after this is all over, but no injuries. You’re very lucky, Angel.” Hank comforts you, and encourages you to lie back.

“Lucky. Is that what you’d call a girl with a fucked up state of mind?” You murmur, and Hank shakes his head.

“We’re all fucked up.” Hank gets back up, leaving you in your room. “It’s a prerogative to being in the X-Men.”

You smile softly at that. He’s not wrong, but you wish, you really wish you could’ve just been that normal girl that your parents would’ve loved.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing hospital scrubs, but there’s an unfamiliar fabric underneath the blanket.

Logan’s flannel is splayed across your stomach, a comforting, soft feeling that has you missing him almost instantly. Had he visited you, when you were unconscious, and decided to leave you this as a token, to help you feel at home?

You lift it up, taking a deep smell of Logan’s signature scent– pinewood, smoke, and something kind of sweet, like… marshmallows?

It makes you blush, but almost immediately after, you place the flannel back under the blanket. Logan doesn’t need your silly crush, your overt attachment, and you’re smart enough to keep that to yourself.

Logan hears from Hank that you’re awake, and although he wonders why Hank told him first, rather than Charles, or Jean, he’s glad to be the first one to see you.

“Hey.” He knocks on your door. To Logan’s surprise, he lets go of a breath he was holding– you don’t look horrific, you have some colour in your face, and there’s a soft smile on your lips when you see him.

You look just like Angel. His best friend. And he comes in real close, ruffling your hair as he often does, maybe more gentle because he doesn’t want to add any more pain.

“Hey, Logan.” You grab his hand, squeezing it with warmth, grateful to see him, before letting go suddenly and looking away bashfully, and he pauses, reminding himself not to think too highly of it.

“Angel. You’re feeling better?” He asks, and you motion for him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel okay.” You stare at him. It’s only been a few days, but Logan looks kind of awful– he’s got some serious dark under-eye bags going on, and stubble that is slowly turning into a beard, and there’s an apparent worry on his face that makes you just want to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan tries to ward off your answer with a stern, one word reply, but you’re not having it.

“Really? You don’t look so great.” You say, not without tact. “I hope you weren’t all cooped up in your room, worrying about me.”

Logan makes a sound that’s half way between a sigh, and a laugh at how close you always seem to get to the truth.

“Alright, yeah. Yeah, I was worried to hell about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He jokes, but your face falls.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good now, I don’t…” There’s an air of seriousness coming from you, that Logan doesn’t typically see, something you usually don’t let yourself do.

“Are you good? Let me see your back, Angel–” Before Logan can even move you to the side, you turn in defiance, letting him see that you are healing. There are still parts of your flesh, red and angry, but for the most part it seems okay, already far better than it was a couple days ago.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, touching your wings with a tenderness that has you leaning into his touch, and he gently skims over a scar of yours, glad to see that you’re genuinely not as hurt as he thought– but you pull away quite quickly.

“See? You don’t need to care so much, I’m fine.” You sound accidentally very accusatory, but Logan is just as much of a stubborn asshole as you are sometimes, and he narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stares at you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends care about each other. Jesus, you’re the one who always– you’re always checking up on me, sneaking into my room, touching my face and arms and– how else am I supposed to take that?”

It sounds romantic, Logan realizes, after he’s spit all that out– and it does sound like he’s putting the blame of your dynamic on you. And, even worse, it’s all just out there in the open.

“Really. I’m not the only one who cares, Logan, you…” You shake your head, and instead pull his flannel out from under the blanket. “You left this for me. Why do you make it sound like it’s all just me?”

“Okay, fine, it isn’t. Leave it alone, Angel.” Logan pleads a little, his face turning red.

“You’re always acting like I’m gorgeous, you constantly hug me and lean into me, there was that time you let me sleep on top of you–” You continue, feeling more and more confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you sound like an asshole.”

Logan blinks, feeling the argument dissipate, as it often does, whenever you get close to confronting each other about feelings– you always manage to fly away.

He won’t let you, not this time.

“You didn’t. I am an asshole– I’ve never bothered to tell you how I feel.” Logan mutters, and the way your face blanches in fear, shyness, tells him to keep going, to push the boundaries. “I let my own stupid ego get in the way of actually caring about you, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve always– I really love you, Angel. And I’m sorry I never made you feel like that was true, I’m sorry that it’s taken until you got hurt for it to be real.”

You have an incredulous look on your face, one Logan wishes he could take a picture of and frame somewhere, because it’s genuinely funny, but then your lip quivers, and he feels like an asshole again.

You feel like an idiot. You think, all this time, what’s bothered you is that you’ve been avoiding the fire– the real ones, sure, but more the things your mother fostered in you. Your trust issues, the way how you hold people dearly in your heart but you can’t let them get close because you worry you’ll never be enough, it’s all been burning for years inside you, and you’ve never had to confront it until Logan decided to stoke the flames.

“It’s always been real for me, too.” You whisper, trying not to cry. “I just… I don’t always believe if people care about me, I never feel good enough to be something for anyone. It’s not you, Logan, it’s my mom, my upbringing, really.”

You give him a short, brief explanation of what your mom did– something you’ll surely expand on later, when it’s not so fresh, when you haven’t been literally burned recently, and the memories pain you more than ever– and Logan’s face turns sharp, his brows furrow, he’s clearly deeply angry by whatever you’ve just told him.

“I’m stupid. I just assumed– it was me putting too much pressure on you. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, that’s fucking awful.” He finally says, and then scowls. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but fuck that lady.”

You snort at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it was never you– I’ve always loved you too, Logan, more than you know. I’m sorry I’m always running from you.”

“Oh, so you’re consciously doing that?” He teases, trying not to react too much to your proclamation of love for him, although his brain feels as if it’s short-circuited. He squeezes your hand, and you laugh.

“Yup. I’m almost glad I got hurt, if it makes us more serious.” You comment, but Logan turns glum at that.

“Don’t say that, Angel. I still feel bad about it.” Logan holds your face, caressing your cheeks, staring into your eyes, glad now that you’re not going to shove him away. “Next time, I’ll try to take the hits. I’ll live.”

“You don’t have to–” Before you can start rejecting Logan’s offer, he leans in really close, almost kissing you but not quite, his breath hot on your own mouth.

“I want you to live.” He murmurs, and you feel yourself turn warm at that.

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s almost chaste, because Logan still isn’t sure how many of your walls he can break down in one day– but for once you’re quick to act in the opposite direction now, lifting tubes out of your arm (irresponsible as hell, Logan would say later on) so you can better reach his face, and you run your fingers through his hair as you kiss him, again, and again.

It’s soft, pliant, and warm, and Logan doesn’t quite know what to say when you come back up for air, breathing deeply, body sweaty from both recovery and how intense this is– he feels around you, around your waist as he leans in again, and you giggle, pulling away for just a moment before kissing him again.

His hands are gentle, skimming over your body without trying to hurt the burns on your back– but Logan feels you clamber onto him, onto his lap, and then he feels the soft feathers of your wings as they pull themselves outward, into the open.

He opens his eyes, and grins in a wolfish manner. Maybe you’ve been changed by what happened, maybe you aren’t the same, but you’re his Angel now, and he prefers that.

He kisses you again.

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deadsnakey · 2 days

Text

𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔? 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

𝐏𝐎��𝐘!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

—> Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott love to bother you, it's so obvious they hate you. Do they really, though?

Check out the request here!

—> Enemies to lovers, kind of... Fluff, a little angst possibly and two idiotic boyfriends who think bothering you very clearly means they like you.

★ Ok, this might be a little messy but just stay with me here.

★ since first year, mattheo thought you were so pretty and just adorable. though, he always kept his distance as much as possible.

★ it wasn't untill around third year that mattheo and Theodore started getting really close, eventually dating in 5th year.

★ but there was still a huge problem, you.

★ they both knew they liked you, they've talked about it voguely a few times and since then they've had to an understanding that you belong to them and no one else...even if you didn't know it yet.

★ unfortunately for you, they only knew one way to flirt; teasing and bothering you.

★ its not too long until you start trying to avoid them as much as possible, knowing you'll be teased relentlessly or the butt of their joke that you never found funny.

★ they always called you names like princess, sweetheart, doll or darling. nicknames in Italian from Theo that you didn't really understand.

★ Stealing your pencils, notebooks, homework or even your wand just to get your attention. They'd dangle it where you couldn't reach. Anything for your attention.

you were going to your last period of the day, hoping you'd be able to make it through without seeing them, the two boys. you've been lucky enough to go the whole day without seeing them but you still technically had two more hours before you'd be safe in your dorm for the night.

you've made it to class, and successfully made it through. walking through the halls, listening to music. your huffy puffy friend ended up stopping you for a few minutes to ask about the material you both were learning at the moment in potions.

once done, you quickly started walking again, about to press play on your music again when you feel someone lightly tap your shoulder. you sigh to yourself, hoping it wasn't the two boys whom you've been dreading of seeing; let alone talking to.

"hey, princess. where you've been lately? hm? avoiding us, weren't you?" mattheo taunted, a smirk stretched on the side of his lips.

you slowly blinked, in disbelief. "why? miss taunting your toy? can you guys just leave me alone? I've done nothing to you." they both huffed, "toy? is that how you really see it? you know it's quite saddening you'd think of us in such a way, darling." mattheo put his arm on theodore's shoulder, slighting leaning on it.

"yeah, okay." you harshly spat out, turning on your heel to get away from them. Theodore was quicker. he gently but firmly grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest making you stumble; your back now touching his clothed chest. you were quickly intoxicated with the smell of faint cigarettes and cinnamon.

"what? got nothing to say now, tesoro?", "don't call me that. and let me go!" you struggled. "someone's feisty, eh? c'mon, lets go to my dorm. I think we need to have a little chat with you." mattheo said, gently putting his hand on the top of your head in a genuine gesture as Theodore started walking, mattheo in front as he led the way and Theodore making sure you're not trying to escape from behind you.

★ safe to say, you were scared.

★ but they really did just want to talk to you. they confessed their feelings for you although you were confused. they hated you.

★ they explained that they didn't hate you, they were head over heels for you if anything. they just...had a really bad way of showing it, hence the constant and brutal teasing.

★ you were shocked. but you told them that they needed to give you some time, you told them as long as they toned it down and stopped being so cruel with their teasing and jokes and actually got to now them, you'd consider dating them.

★ They finally got your attention and they loved it.

★ after 4 awful months of torture from these two, it payed off.

★ fast forward to the end of sixth year, you developed feelings from them both and heavily overtime. that's when you told them that you had came to falling for them and would love to date them both; now that you felt ready.

★ they were soooo happy, definitely lots of affection from these two the rest of the day and night.

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chrisbesitos · 1 day

Note

I need a blurb of Chris saying he never had a favorite color before he met younger reader

ex: Chris and younger!reader were going on their first date. It was all cute and great energy until Chris asked “what do you think my favorite color is?” Yn spent a while looking into Chris blue eyes and said “orange!” Was she right? No. Truth is Chris doesn’t have a favorite color, but ever since yn said orange he could never look at orange the same. Orange reminded him of yn and her beautiful smile as her eyes lit up when she said the color. Now it’s current day and yn bought Chris a gift (like an orange sweatshirt) and yn said “why is ur favorite color orange?” And Chris told her the story on why orange is his fav color

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it made me think of you

"You have ice cream in your nose." Chris said, pointing to Y/N's nose, she crossed her eyes trying to look laughing. "Let me clean this." He rubbed her nose, cleaning the pink from the strawberry ice cream she was eating.

They went out to the movies, it was the first they hung out without Chris' brothers and their friends. Every time they hung out, they never could have some time alone, because Chris' brothers are always interrupting and being annoying. So, after a long time, Chris decided to invite Y/N to go to the movies, but only he and her, his brothers wasn't invited. So, it was a date.

"Is all gone?" Y/N asked, showing her nose to Chris, he denied laughing. She strained her legs to Chris' lap, biting the cone of her ice cream, the boy slightly caressed her skin with his fingertips. "What do you think my favorite color is?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dummy." Chris said, pinching Y/N's thigh. She giggled, kicking his chest. "Well, your favorite color is probably green, because you know, you wear this color all the time." He said, smiling. He's just joking, because he knows everything about you. "You know your soul is pink, I love when you wear pink."

"I wear pink all the time." Y/N said, Chris nodding with his head.

"My turn, what do you think my favorite color is?" Chris asked, throwing his napkin on the car dashboard, Y/N touched her chin thinking about the answer. She scrunched her nose, her lips leaning in a smile.

"You always wear orange, so orange is your favorite color." Y/N said, touching Chris' chin with her foot, she was only wearing socks. The boy held her foot and put it back on his lap, laughing. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, I like orange." Chris smiled, rubbing her legs passionately. Y/N smiled proudly.

But it was a lie, Chris didn't have a favorite color. He likes all of them, but he never had a favorite. But since this day, Chris's favorite color is orange. Every time he sees the color orange, he remembers the day of their first date. Y/N's pretty smile, her bright eyes, the pink sweater she was wearing. She's his favorite girl, so orange will always make he remember her.

When Y/N was shopping with Nick, she found it a orange hoodie and made her remember Chris, so she bought. Later in the day, when they were together in the room, Y/N was showing her new clothes and she gave Chris the present she bought.

"Did you like it? It's orange and you love orange." Y/N said, smiling and holding the hoodie. Chris nodded, smiling like her. He grabbed the hoodie and put it on his body. "Fits perfectly."

"Yeah, I love it." He said, Chris held her waist and pulled Y/N closer to him. He kissed her nose. "Thank you so much, babydoll."

"Why is your favorite color orange?" She asked, with her hands around his neck, inhaling his scent. He rubbed her waist, smiling at her question.

"Because of you." He touched her nose. "I didn't have a favorite color until the night you told me my favorite is orange, since then it is my favorite. Reminds me of you."

"Really?"

"Yes, make me think of you." He gave her a peck on her lips. "And because it fits me really well, don't you think?" Y/N giggled, nodding with her head. She loves Chris so much, he's the man of her life, definitely.

they're so babies 😭😭😭 i love write younger!reader

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #younger!reader #older!chris #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo soft

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sakumz · 3 days

Text

____________________________________________

a/n : I LOVE YOU KIMICJ the man you are 😣 school au, ooc, kms joke once or twice kunikuzushi is scaramouche or wanderer...

[ m. kinich x fem reader ]

____________________________________________

" that's the exchange student? " you hear whispers and whatnots around you as you walk towards your classroom. books in your arms since the teacher asked you to pick it up, first thing in the morning before heading to class.

" morning y/n, " xiao greets you as he shoves the students blocking the path inside the classroom, holding the door for you to go in, as you smiled and thank him. placing the books on your teacher's desk as you made your way over to your seat, kinich takes the empty seat next to yours.

it's a wonder, your class is so lucky to be hosting the exchange student. thank you aether for being the student exchanged in your class. you silently thank the archons and of course your dearest classmate for such exchange, heck if he's staying over forever in kinich's school and kinich stays here forever, even better! you get to admire the pretty man by your side and the one behind you is xiao. he sighs as he stares out the window.

when lunch starts, you can't help but want to ask the exchange student to eat with you. well he is new and everyone will probably go to their own friend group and chat lunch away. what you should obviously expect was the people crowding around him, asking to go with them.

xiao taps you from behind as you silently nod, determine to take kinich with you than the randos.

" hey malipo- " you whisper shout from your seat as he quickly turns his attention to you.

" kinich is fine, " he cuts you as you flush red.

" um yeah k-kinich, wanna come with me and xiao? we'll eat on the roof and well... it's quieter there. " you lean over and whisper. he gets up and apologised to the people around, telling them he wants peace and quiet and well, to say the least they obliged and left him. he follows you and xiao quietly up to the roof.

you were right, it was a lot quieter. only you guys being there, being on the roof definitely has it perks. he could see the outside of the school, there's a basketball court and he spots a red and white hair guy, definitely shorter playing the game with an indigo bowl cut hair who even had a different uniform. he's not an exchange student like him, is he? he was certain only five from his school was here and was not told any other school would be here too.

" oh! kazuha is playing with the kid from the school directly opposite us! " you gush as xiao turns to look out.

" yeah that's kunikuzushi, " kinich sits next to you, opposite xiao. you peered over when he opens his lunch box.

" what a cute bento, " you mumbled out loud, flushing once more when both males stared at you.

" my classmate made it, we're staying in the same host family, " he says as you can't help but get interested.

" that's really cute, you guys must be pretty close huh? xiao over here is my childhood friend, kazuha was in the same class as us back in first year. also I bought cookies so you both better eat up! " you shove the bag in the center.

" tasty as ever, " xiao compliments as you flash him a smile, the smile that sends his heart beating a mile a minute.

" it's good, " kinich compliments after. your pride eating at you.

" there's a little something on you, " you point at the corner of your lips as xiao looks confused at you.

" here let me just- " you swipe your hand over xiaos cheek, dusting the cookie crump off.

the bell rings after leaving you to internally scream. back to hell. class went by pretty quickly, you tried to pass paper messages to xiao and you barely got any replies back.

" hey are you doing anything after school? " you ask kinich, walking him to the shoe locker with xiao behind you.

" I don't have anything, " he responded. you look over xiao, he gives you a nod as you internally cheered.

" let's go to this cafe! me and xiao always go there whenever we're free and well it's my work place too so feel free to come whenever you want, heck please bring that classmates of yours too! I'd definitely love to meet them and- " yapping till you were out of the school gates you weren't expecting someone to whistle at you.

you stopped and stared at the source of the sound, it was coming from the road directly across you. you sigh when you see who it is.

" heyyy y/n! " sethos called you over as kunikuzushi glared at the man.

you waved as xiao quickly grabs your hand and push it back down. you look at him as he shakes his head no.

" hey I know they're from our quote on quote rival school but it's rude to not greet back, you know. " you whisper scolded, jabbing him with a finger playfully.

from kunikuzushi point of view, you looked so adorable with a hand to your waist as you scolded your little childhood friend. wait WHAT!?! he aggressively shook his head as sethos stared at him cheekily.

" listen up pipsqueak! " kunikuzushi starts only to earn a slap from behind, he scowl and turn quickly to look at the perpetrator. it was lumine, she glared daggers at him as she scolded him for calling whoever he was calling a "pipsqueak". you waved sethos a goodbye before walking away with kinich and xiao.

" what's his problem? " xiao mumbles as he takes a seat opposite you in the booth. you can't help but giggle, kinich by xiaos side feeling confused. there's definitely more to this rival school going on.

" y/n! you're here, " your fellow colleague greets whipping out her small notebook to take your order.

" helloo, " you greet with your signature smile.

" anything catches your eyes? " you ask kinich who was flipping through the menu, xiao points at one as his eyes follow his finger.

" um, I'll get the kitty parfait. " he says shyly.

" haha three kitty parfait then, " your colleague obliges and within minutes the parfaits came. your colleagues even added a matcha tea, lemon tea and coca cola. guessing everyone's preferred drink right.

" mind if I take a picture? " kinich asks as he pulls out his phone, you quickly said yes.

" hey get a picture of us too~ here give me your phone, " you show him your palm as he placed his phone on.

you turn the phone camera to selfie mode, aiming it so that the food can be seen and both xiao and kinich faces were in. throwing on a peace sign as xiao and kinich followed along.

you three ate your treats, talking about everything and anything. kinich has a pet named ajaw, he can get pretty aggressive but he's a sweet thing. pulling up videos and pictures of said pet. xiao also shares embarrassing stories of you in between. kinich couldn't help but laugh at certain parts of the story. leaving you fuming at your friend. kinich finds it adorable when you pout.

" well we should get going. I'll walk you home y/n, " xiao starts as you stared back at him, sighing when he tilts his head to the side.

" did something happened at home? " kinich question as you laugh at the bitter thought.

" it's fine really, " you force a smile as you stand up. bidding your colleagues and the boys follow behind. whispering to each other. you can't be bothered to know what they're talking about, having an internal battle on what might possibly happen at home. you had a fight with your brother after he told you his partner of five years was a homewrecker and he didn't do anything or defend himself when his partner started talking shii about his family.

" this is it, bye bye " you sounded so sad when you wave them goodbye, closing the door behind before they could say anything else.

kinich and xiao looks at each other before making their way over the nearby bench around the area.

" yeah something is definitely up, " kinich mumbles as xiao looks at him, slouched over the bench.

" you like them don't you? " he smirks.

" wha-what are you talking about? " kinich sweatdrops.

" aaah, we'll just leave it till tomorrow then. you know your way around the area or do you need me to walk you back too? " xiao teased leaving the dark hair male to laugh.

" I know how to get home, thanks. " he bids xiao goodbye as they both made their way home.

" fancy seeing you here, " kunikuzushi starts as you look over your shoulder and place the glass you were wiping down. it's a Saturday, no school. your work decided to come up with a little small event to promote the best selling kitty parfait. you blush and immediately hide yourself behind the counter, you're wearing a maid dress and kitty ears!

" hey now, aren't you going to serve me? " he teased as you stand up, you're the only worker right now. the next one will come in an hour.

" how'd you know I'm working here?! " you scold as he smiles.

" hey hey, I've got a little recommendation from the principal of the school but that doesn't matter, " he mumbles the last part turning back to stare at your eyes.

" I've been wanting to come here! so many people in school has been talking about it. even that smart ass alhaitham has been here not once but twice, " he raised two fingers as you grab his fingers, squeezing it hard as he lets out a playful scream.

" is this the person you've been talking about? kinich, " you quickly looked over kunikuzushi as he followed your line of view. you blush when you saw kinich in his casual wear. he is so handsome, charming and so much beautiful words you can't think of right now but he's just so drop dead gorgeous. he had his headband on his forehead, black t-shirt on and you can't admit it but his arms.

" please kill me kunikuzushi, hat guy, wanderer " you whisper as you shake him by his shoulder.

" hey must you bring up that stupid nickname and even the game name I used. " he sighs at your dramatic antics. he doesn't fail to notice your growing blush. you looked adorable if only it was for him.

" wha-what would you like to have today? kinich and beautiful girl, " you cry internally is that his girlfriend, you shove kunikuzushi aside as she points at the chocolate cake. just then your phone rings, you excused yourself as you quickly picked up the call. trying not to kill yourself when your boss tells you, you'll be working the full shift alone since your work partner had something going on. well its not so bad doing a full shift alone especially when the sun's setting down and well the customers just adore you the most.

you place your phone down, biding your boss an okay and goodbye as you look over kunikuzushi who was just playing with the jewelleries around his fingers and neck.

you cleared your throat as you beam back at them, right you're so good at faking smiles even kunikuzushi and xiao have a hard time figuring out which is fake and which isn't.

" so one chocolate cake? is there anything else? " you tap the order in the cash register screen as kinich finishes the order with " the same kitty parfait we ordered and two colas would be nice. "

you thanked them for ordering and tell them to take a seat, even rejecting his money because he's an honoured guest along with the girl he was with. assuring him it's on the house, kunikuzushi looked over the cash register area, picking up some of the memo notes you were writing down. one definitely caught his interests as you worked on their orders. quickly finished the final touches, making it as pretty and perfect. you walk over to their table. smiling at them when you approach, telling them to enjoy before you could return back to the register you hear kunikuzushi shout, " hey aren't you missing something? "

you glared at the man before turning back to the "couple" .

" I'll give you some blessings okay? make it delicious, " you form a heart with your fingers, moving it around your fingers as you shut your eyes tight.

" moe moe kyun~ "

to say the least, all you hear was kunikuzushi loud laughter as you rush back over to him.

" tell me your order now. " you demand as he sniffles back a laugh.

" o-one kitty parfait, the strawberry one. " your heart drops. keying in the order and bringing it to the man. why did he pick the seat opposite kinich, one where they can make eye contact.

" hey don't forget your magical blessing, " he flashed you a smile as you glared at him.

" make it delicious, " you say between gritted teeth, " moe moe kyun~ " just as you're about to walk away he grabs your hand. you turn to look at him stunned.

" there's no customers right now, so you can definitely fulfill my customer request right? as stated in the memo, " he grinned as you stared, flushing when you remember the event lines.

' obliged to the customer wishes, eg feeding them as long as its nothing super dangerous, do it '

" feed me. " you quickly take a seat opposite him, your kitty ears pressing against your head. the kitty ears, you scream. you looked so adorable you didn't notice the quick flash from his phone. your kitty ears pressed on your head as you flushed red, eyes squeeze tight as you grab his spoon.

" open up, " you place the spoon full of whipped cream and strawberry jam infront of his face, your other hand hovering under his chin to catch whatever mess he could possibly make.

" so how's school, " he tries to make small talk as you continue to feed him. just as you're about to give a response, you accidentally push the spoon filled parfait into his mouth, the whipped cream hitting the corner of his lips. you can't help but wipe the corner of his lips with your finger, forced habit from xiao, and the opportunity to tease the lingering eyes on him, he grab your finger. bringing it to his mouth to lick the whip cream.

you blush at his action as the kitty ears pressed against your head again, your tail swishing from side to side. yeah you're definitely not wearing this set of cat stuff again! thank goodness there was a normal version somewhere. you didn't expect people you know to come and you could've gotten out of work the following hour when kunikuzushi came. ugh the co-worker!!!

" hey y/n, " kinich calls over to you as you look back, your face flush red as kinich can't help but blush at your appearance. your cat ears and your flushing face.

you hand kunikuzushi back the spoon as you ruffled his hair for revenge, as he quickly brings a hand to your cheek, giving it a squeeze before you walk over to kinich's booth.

" yes? " you exhale slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

" I hope we're not bothering you, this is mualani. she's- " kinich was interrupted as she grab your hands.

" we're classmates back in our old school and we're living in the same host house, I can't get a second away from him huh. hahaha! though each class in your school, holds one exchange student. he's pretty lucky to get a cute girl like you in the class. heck you're even prettier than the picture he showed! " she gushed as you flushed harder, he talks about you to this girl!?

" are you both datin-"

" what! no! I would never date this emo! " she scolds as you can't help but laugh, kinich cleared his throat earning a playful glare from mualani.

" thanks for the treat and like always, good things comes to an end. I'll see you in school, y/n. " kinich gets up as mualani follows bidding you a goodbye as she walks first, kinich feels his legs glued to the floor. his ears didn't fail him and kunikuzushi was purposefully being loud when he mentioned the event lines.

he did order the item that'll strike the event lines to work, you stared at him as he looks down, gulping down as he says what you weren't expecting to hear.

" there's an event thing right? I'm allowed to make a request? " your kitty ears perks up, you try to control your beating heart.

" yeah you can make a request as long as its nothing too stupid and crazy, " you looked to the floor, avoiding his gaze as you try to calm down.

" can I get your number then? " to say the least you thought you died and met the archons. with shaking hands you accept and key in your number.

he bids you goodbye as he walks over to mualani as she smiles, giddy as she can't wait to hear more of what kinich has to say. he's been pretty chatty since meeting you and she's definitely in for it all.

kunikuzushi did stay to help you clean the store, he said you'll pay him with one of the events request to which you agreed.

" xiaooo~ " you playfully poke his cheek from behind his seated self. you sigh as you gave him a hug resting your head on his head.

" I'm gonna kill myself. " you stood straight as you take your seat, and kinich enters.

" did you hear, in gym class. one of the rival class from the school will join us. " someone says as you felt a shiver down your spine, this class better not be kunikuzushi.

luck was not on your side when you catch his gaze on you. him sitting on the bleachers as xiao and kinich just so happen to sit a few seats infront of him. you were playing basketball first. you as the appointed captain and lumine was your rival captain.

" beat her ass, y/n! " you hear kunikuzushi shout as everyone turn to look at the man. his shame out the window, thank the archons sethos isn't here.

" you're supposed to cheer for us! " the girls in his class shout as he stuck out his tongue.

the game did end with your team winning, kunikuzushi calls for you to come over as you obliged. he hands you a bottle of water as the referee calls for the boys to come and get ready for the game. he smiles as he catches your gaze. waving as you nearly choke on the water. nilou takes a seat next to you as lumine on her other side and keqing went to your right side.

" heyy! cheer for me okay!? " he shouts as you flushed the girls looking over you as you scream a do your best, you guys! that's definitely not targeted to kinich, xiao and that kuni boy.

the girls tried to get intel on the boy as you tried your hardest to focus on the game. twenty minutes in the game and kunikuzushi team was one point down. he grabs hold of the ball and just as he's about to score he shouts your name.

" this one's for you, y/n! " he shouts as he shoots a three pointer earning two points, the girls cooing at the smoothness. the game then ends and the teacher congratulated the team for winning before ending his class.

" he definitely likes you, " nilou says as she stands up. lumine following her as she tells you he's too far gone.

" he's a stupid one for sure, " keqing pats your head in pity for your love life.

you look over the boys as they gathered close, you walked over as kunikuzushi was massaging his hand.

" what's wrong? " you question as he smiles weakly.

" just jammed my fingers. " you grab his non-injured hand. bringing him to the first aid kit, placed on the first row of the bleaches he takes a seat as you wrapped an elastic compression bandage over his finders.

" hey why don't you kiss my boo boos away? it'll heal faster just like your magical blessing to my parfait. it was really delicious, " he teased as you brought his hand over to your lips pressing a quick kiss over it. kinich and xiao decided to take the seats next to you and kunikuzushi, drinking water and calming down from the game.

" we have an hour free and then lunch break, you should join us. " you say, standing up and changing as the boys meet you at the roof.

xiao sits next to you as kinich and kunikuzushi was opposite. silenced filled the first part.

" open up, " kunikuzushi brings the egg roll from his bento to you mouth, as you ate it. xiao calling you to open up too as you ate the broccoli from him. kinich opens his bottle of cola as he brings it to your face as you chug a good amount.

kunikuzushi smirking as you glared daggers at the growing tug on his lips. realisation hits you as you start coughing, xiao pats your back as you stand up. packing your things as you bid a quick goodbye.

" see you guys later, and bye kunikuzushit. " you mindlessly walk away, it's still too early to go back to class.

" now what is her problem, " kunikuzushi mellowly says as the two looks over the male.

" you tease her too much, " xiao points his chopsticks at the male as he laughs pushing his chopsticks away with his own pair.

" admit it, we all know who she likes. " xiao flushed. it's not him and he's well aware.

" why do you like her, kunikuzushi? you even got her to feed you, your parfait... " kinich trailed off as xiao stared wide eyed at the indigo man, he laughs.

" she's fun to tease, plus quite the beauty. she's too nice for her own good, " kunikuzushi admits, reminiscencing the first time he met you when you threw a punch at him for talking shit about your school. that's when you met sethos and lumine for the first time too. they quickly took a liking to you.

" what about you, xiao? " xiao can't help but stare and look away at the pair of eyes on him.

" she's pretty, yes. I grew up with her so I guess you can say my love for her just keeps growing with her... " there's more to love you for and he's too shy to tell it to them.

kunikuzushi is well aware with the choices you won't pick him nor would it be xiao, he pats xiao on the back. trying to lighten the mood, so he tells embarrassing tales about you as xiao returns the same.

mualani caught you walking down the halls, she drags you to the vending machine around the garden as you sat on the bench, sipping on your carton of milk.

" why do you like kinich? " she cheekily asked as she plops next to you.

" he's handsome, quite the sweet talker and um.. im not sure? my heart just longs for him... " you confess, feeling the same burning on your cheeks as she laughs.

well you have her support in this, she cheers you up and attempts to tell you embarrassing stories about kinich but they ended up being more about her. kinich catching her doing embarrassing stuff.

as class was ending, kinich tells you and xiao, he'll be waiting for mualani so xiao and you left together first.

you invite xiao over to your house as he obeys. placing the plate of almond tofu and a cup of ice lemon tea. you enjoyed the peaceful silence. before admiting something xiao was painfully aware of.

" I like kinich. " he swallows hard.

" I like you, " he confessed as you flushed. turning to look at him and he he maintained eye contact back.

" I'm sorry, " you looked away as he was quick to hold you hand. rubbing smooth circles.

" it's really okay, dating someone you grew up with would be a bore huh? besides you probably see me more like a brother than some romantic partner... " you can't help but sigh, if you hadn't met kinich and xiao confessed. you'll definitely accept, he was nothing but kind and sweet to you.

" you're never boring to be with. my heart just longs for the guy, " you sigh as you grab the hand, touching your hand. you bring it to your forehead as he place the spoon down, patting your head.

" if he ever breaks your heart, my arms are open for you. if you're thirty and he hasn't married you, I'll marry you in a heartbeat. " you can't help but laugh.

" I'll allow that, I'll break up if he doesn't propose hahaha, please don't wait for me if you did fall for someone. " he nods as the conversation continues. you introduced a new character in your life as xiao filled you in on what happened during lunch when you left. your soul leaving your body when he says kunikuzushi was sharing embarrassing stories about you. hell the new character in your life couldn't say any embarrassing stories about kinich because it was mainly him catching her on the act.

you walk xiao to the door when it was time to leave, he pulls you in for a hug and you let him hug you for as long as he felt like it.

the next day in school, school felt pretty fast this time. probably because you fell asleep in class thanks to someone keeping you up all night.

" y/n come with me. " kinich offers a hand as you blindly take it, rubbing your eyes with your other hand. you don't know where this guy is taking you.

he brings you to the garden, the gazebo in sight as you take a seat and he stands. hands hiding something behind. a yawn escapes your lips as he shows you the flowers.

" I like- love you. " he confess, your eyes shot open. this can't be a dream? you pinch your cheek as he laughs, pulling your hand away to plant a kiss on it.

" it's not a dream. I love you a lot, your kindness. you really helped me feel at ease in the school, I met a few cool people thanks to you. even if we're far apart, I'll do anything for you. we're still living in the same country just different region. it will take awhile to get to you but for you, I'll do anything. " you can't help but kiss the corner of his lips as he cups your face, giving you a proper kiss.

to say the least even being so far away, you never felt lonely. kinich texts you 24/7 even video calling whenever you want. when you graduated, you eventually moved to a place nearer to him to attend college. xiao and kunikuzushi unexpectedly following. all four attending the same college, you weren't expecting to be in the same business course as kunikuzushi as xiao and kinich happen to share the same course. well kinich never fails to slap a smile on your face everyday.

#sakumz.pdf #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #kinich x you

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seraphont · 1 day

Note

All jokes aside..what DOES Tessa see in J? She kinda..rude, mean, bossy, snarky, traitorous .. Tessa is the complete opposite!! #youdeservebettergurl /J

Sjdkl I see where you’re coming from anon, I wrote a couple of paragraphs below, please bear with my thought process, there’s a TLDR way at the bottom. This is how I interpret J’s character (if shes nuanced lol) with the little info we’re given:

in the series we see J at her worst, similar to how we see V, kinda sucking as well at the beginning of the series. The difference is V actually gets an emotional story arc and screen time LOL (and N- the person she cares for- is actually still alive and well).

We get glimpses of their past selves at the manor, and though Cyn states that their personalities were left unaltered, the trauma of their past certainly changed them. We see this drastic difference especially in V. we don’t get many moments w J (dead for over half of the series lol), but she also retained her memories, and I’d find it hard to believe she wasn’t effected similarly to V.

The only instances of ‘care’ we see in the series by J, is when Tessa rubs at her sore wrists from being manacled at the manor, when J was asking V to join her side Ep 8, and when she stated she got tricked by the solver - where it’s implied that J’s been killed many times by the solver, believing she has no other choice.

going back on another post I made, I think a tell for her character is the line “I didn’t need either of you anyway.” When V rejects her offer after J asked V to join her. This felt like an extreme cope and a tell on how she deals w things emotionally. I do think she wanted both N and V to be with her, but she’s got her walls up and is a stuck up asshole.

unfortunately LOL, much of this lays in assumptions based off of what little canon provided, we see J and Tessa were stuck at the hip at the manor, which to me at least implies they’re very good friends/close. the ripping royals talk, that J is a confidant/someone she could rely on and trust, even though she’s rather blunt. The swapping of weapons, no words needed -a tell that they know each others preferences well, another signal to closeness. the ‘stick in the mud’/cheerful friendship dynamic is also just kinda my favorite lol.

The way I interrupt J at the manor is a very toned down version of her angry self that we see on C9. Aloof, tactless, loyal (she turned on the “company” when breaking Tessa’s manacles), jealous lol, but inevitably there for her friend.

TLDR: it’s implied she was good friends with Tessa at the manor, and yes she’s an asshole lol, but never towards Tessa, the only character shes ever outwardly shown care towards. Tessa probably saw the J who didn’t have her walls up, a J, who though aloof- was her confidant, someone who took her weirdness in stride, and a constant that stuck by her side during her worst times at the manor. A great formula for a strong friendship, and I’m a sucker for friends to lovers lol.

At least that’s how I interpret it c:

#murder drones #drone tessa au #drone!tessa #murder drones tessa #DaGOI au #the yapper #jessa #ripping royals #dying and getting over it #tessa elliot

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neiptune · 2 days

Text

i don't want you like a best friend

cw: 4.2k wc, female reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, tendo may be the only person in the world without a mark and it's quite hard to convince him that, most times, the universe doesn't know shit

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I ever tasted”.

“Don’t lie”.

“I’m not!”.

Tendo narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

“You said that about the last five bonbons”.

“Listen, the one with port and cinnamon was great n’all but this is a cookie dough brown butter bonbon. I’m blown away. I want to sleep with this one. I want to buy it dinner and then take it to bed”.

That’s when Satori laughs, loud and boisterous as he still allows himself to be around you. It makes you smile, seeing him happy.

“Tell me the secret to crafting these”.

“Again?”, he snorts, “I already explained the process a million times”.

“Wanna hear it again. I like how you talk about it”.

“Okay, weirdo”, there’s fondness and a silent invitation in the way he pushes the little box of his latest experiments towards you.

It’s soothing, comforting, listening to instructions you’re already familiar with. Tendo goes over how important it is to choose flavors that are fun and still be attentive enough to make sure the chocolate stands on its own: flavoring components should never completely ride over it. He skillfully exercises subtlety when coming up with new combinations, always keeps the interior so creamy and smooth the treat ends up melting in a delicious puddle on one’s tongue. The outer layer should never be too thick, chalky or cakey: that’s why he prefers to form most of the chocolates with his hands instead of using a mold.

There’s creativity involved in what he does but there’s also science. It requires a lot of patience, most of his work is made of tedious steps repeated over and over again within specific time limits and a perfectly calculated temperature. It fits him, you believe: Tendo’s always been diligent and persevering, no matter what the world threw at him.

He puts a lot of work in his boxes too, especially the ones he has to ship. They’re all triple-insulated, double-stuffed and always perfectly packed. A cute, colorful thank you card always goes hand in hand with each purchase, if he receives orders for a birthday or a special gift he’d even write a personal note as an addition. As a foreigner, it hasn't been easy to establish himself as a reliable chocolatier in a city like Paris, but he now has a pretty loyal clientele and the shop is basically never empty.

“That one’s my favorite”, Satori’s eyes zero on the bite-sized bonbon you’ve picked from the box.

You hum, appreciating the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. It’s not as good as the previous one but you recognize the artistry with which the flavors fuse with each other, chocolate ganache with clementine and hazelnuts, just a hint of lemon zest.

“They’re all incredible, ‘Tori. You’re very talented”. Tendo smiles.

“Thank you”, he mutters, grateful, “now, can we talk about it?”.

“There’s nothing to talk about”, you dangle your legs from the counter of the little production kitchen in the back of his boutique shop, closed for the day. It’s incredibly tidy, smells of soap and citrus.

“You impulsively booked a flight across the world because of a guy”.

Ouch.

“I flew across the world to visit my best friend”, you scowl, “thought he’d be happy to see me”.

“I’m fucking ecstatic, ma chérie”, it’s probably the happiest he’s been in years, “but we need to talk about it. Tell me what’s on your mind?”.

He can see the bags under your eyes, the usual brightness missing from your smile, playful vibration to your jokes absent. He knows you’re hurting and while he’d be thrilled to keep you in Paris for as long as you wish, Tendo has to know what’s broken before he even attempts to mend it. His gaze falls on a specific portion of skin of your wrist and a sigh slips past his lips.

“He broke up with me”, you articulate slowly, “said we weren’t compatible. Said it’s safer to abandon the delusional ideas that drew us close to each other and do things how they’re supposed to be done. According to the plan”, there’s a grimace on your face that pairs well with how you spit out the last words.

“Did you show him?”.

“No, you know I don’t do that anymore. He didn’t see mine and I never wanted to see his. He agreed to that”.

“Right”.

“And then, I don’t know, he did what everyone always does. Changed his mind”.

Satori sighs. Truthfully, he’s always been a little sad about your mark being permanently covered with thick foundation, concealer or whatever else. It’s been years. He misses seeing the little crooked triangle on your wrist.

“Well, maybe…”, he starts but is soon interrupted by a loud scoff.

“Don’t”.

“But they’re not wrong. The universe has it all layed out for you, maybe it’s time you stop being so stubborn”.

“I don’t care about the universe, Satori. The universe is not going to take away that choice from me, it should belong to me. I don’t want to be destined to someone, I want to be chosen by them”.

He deflates in the plastic chair he’s sitting on. Can’t really argue with that logic.

Ever since middle school, when your mark first appeared, you never wanted to succumb to the whole the cosmos has already decided who the perfect person for me is bullshit. You simply can’t accept giving up the freedom of falling in love with whoever you wish to pursue, regardless of the universe agreeing or not. That’s why you never really cared about matching marks and all that jazz, always dated those who seemed not to care either. But after a number of failed relationships, it became painfully obvious that deep down, everyone always believes marks are the real deal. It’s why you decided you never wanted to see the mark of the next guys you’d date, and certainly didn’t want to show yours anymore. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember it’s still there, underneath stubborn layers of concealer. You hated it your whole life.

“You’re right. It’s your life, you should live it however you see fit”, they’re idiots for giving up on someone like you in the name of a dumb sign or whatever anyway.

“I thought you’d understand this more than anyone, you’ve always hidden your mark too. I don’t even know what it looks like and it’s okay! It’s yours! Shouldn’t belong to anyone else’s prying eyes”, you pick another chocolate truffle from the special box he’s sorted for you. It’s red velvet flavored.

Tendo insisted on calling his shop like that, rouge velours, deaf to the literal translation not being entirely correct. The french need to associate the word gâteau to it, it has to be a red velvet cake. But he didn’t care, adamant in going with just red velvet.

It was a joke you had blurted out at the end of high school, sitting on the curb outside your favorite konbini on the way home, another summer evening made of snacks shared underneath the street lamps. Satori said he wanted to move to France and learn how to make handmade chocolates, open a shop and everything. You suggested it should’ve been called red velvet, would’ve paired well with his hair. It never crossed your mind that he would take your suggestion seriously.

Frankly, Tendo’s not changed much since high school. He’s a little taller, broader in the shoulders, prefers a buzz cut. He’s still cheerful, less loud if you’re not around, enjoys singing made up tunes to himself while he works, occasionally takes part in volleyball games when neighbors or friends from the gym invite him. More than anything, he’s still the kindest, most generous friend one could have.

You used to be a little jealous of Ushijima, never one to accept easily to be downgraded in the best friends ranking system. As a teenager, it was hard to acknowledge that Satori’s heart is simply big enough to fit everyone he cares about in there. Not many people realized how much of an honor that was anyway, so there was plenty of space.

He still calls Ushijima to check up on him and the fact that they declared to be best friends during a television show didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth as it would’ve back then. Wakatoshi is a nice guy, it definitely grew on you and it now gives you comfort knowing that Satori gets to throw the blanket of his affection over more than one person’s shoulders.

Not a day goes by without missing him, different time zones making it even more complicated to keep up with each other. Yet, he’s always the one willing to stay up late to talk to you, insists that while you work in the morning, he enjoys crafting chocolates in the middle of the night. That hardly matters, since you know he has to wake up early to open the shop.

“Hard to hide something you don’t have”, he grins from where he’s sitting, in front of you. Your dangling legs come to a halt.

“What?”.

“I don’t have a mark”, Satori shrugs, “not a big deal”.

“That’s impossible”.

“You’ve seen me naked”.

“Because you didn’t lock the damn bathroom door!”, your face heats up at the memory belonging to so many years ago. He snickers.

“Well, if I had a mark you’d know!”.

You pause, incredulous.

“Did you check your nails? Maybe it was in your hair and you shaved it off. Everyone has a mark!”.

“I don’t have it”, he knows, he’s checked every inch of his body for too long before giving up, “don’t act so shocked, it makes perfect sense”.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”.

Satori shrugs, a timid smile on his lips.

“I’m damaged goods. I wouldn’t expect to be the right fit for anyone, the universe decided to spare me and a potential unfortunate match the embarrassment”.

To him, it’s perfectly normal that there’s no one right for him out there. Or rather, that he’s not the right person for anyone. Who would want that, anyway? The guy who’s always been too weird to be looked at normally. The guy who always stands out the wrong way. If the universe has decided to be merciful enough to spare him the disappointment flashing over someone’s face upon discovering that he’s their soulmate, the only thing Tendo should feel is gratitude.

“Don’t say shit like that ever again, Satori. Damaged goods? What the hell? You’re the best person I know!”, you almost throw the chocolate box at his head, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. Anyone. I’m certain you’re the perfect match for a lot of people but I find it very hard to believe they’d deserve you anyway”.

You’re his best friend, you’re supposed to say all that. Yet, kept silent by that fiery glare of yours, Tendo can’t help but feel his chest warm up.

He didn’t necessarily have a crush on you in high school, that’s what he told himself anyway. When you started going out with Eita, part of him was relieved you went for someone normal. His teammate fell into the right category: Semi was attractive, had good grades, knew his way around girls. It was a good reminder of what Tendo wanted for you, of what you deserved. He cared deeply about your happiness and would’ve went to impossible lengths to shield you from all the bad there was in the world. That still hasn’t changed. Your best friend was what he was always destined to be and it was more than what he could’ve asked for, anyway.

And so it wouldn’t have been right to fantasize, to admit to himself that for the first time ever since he was a kid, Tendo wished to be the opposite of what he was. He dreamed of a different childhood, school days filled with friends, practice bursting with laughter instead of whispers, not a reason in the world to direct him curious or grossed out stares. He wished he was handsome, charismatic, funny in a way that made girls laugh in sincere amusement instead of discomfort. He wanted so badly to be everything he was not, for you.

When he admitted to himself that he loved you, deeply, ferociously, in a way that would’ve scared off any other human being, high school was over and so was his volleyball dream. Another fantasy coming to an end. Satori announced he wanted to move to Paris, expecting life, distance, a different time zone, your boyfriends, to make the friendship too heavy of a task to keep up with.

And yet, you stayed by his side. Most importantly, you wanted him to stay by yours. Tendo has never been much used to the feeling of being wanted, his presence wasn’t exactly desired by other people throughout his life. But you and Paris both taught him that maybe he does have something to give, something people can be willing to accept. So what if that something isn’t romantic love? He’s already luckier than he ever imagined he would get. He’s going to be okay, as long as you’re his friend. He’ll manage.

“Satori”, you snap him back to reality, “I mean it. Fuck the universe”.

Honestly, the only thing he’s mad at the universe for is making you so deeply unhappy. Tendo’s not sure he can forgive the cosmos for failing you so many times.

“Yeah”, he agrees lightly, “fuck the universe”.

Maybe Tendo had a point when he referred to your little vacation as ‘impulsive’, given that you never really travelled outside of Japan before. Yet, what initially was an easy escape from your disappointing reality and a wonderful excuse to finally visit your best friend, soon turned into a delightful adventure.

You reciprocated Satori’s hospitality by being as useful as possible: you’d keep his place tidy and clean, get groceries, cook dinner. He’d insist on ordering out, would try to snatch the vacuum cleaner from your hand, sometimes Tendo would come home later than usual with his hands filled with groceries just so that you didn’t feel like you needed to refill the fridge. But you liked being there and you loved taking care of him, especially since he vehemently refused to go back to sleeping in his bed and offering you the couch instead.

On his rare free days, Satori gladly gives you a tour of the city and his favorite places. When he’s working, you’d explore Paris on your own, the little map he drew by hand safely nestled in your pocket. Yes, you obviously have a phone, but the map makes each stroll all the more special.

Being with him and feeling genuinely appreciated, in a city so wonderful and far away from home, made you realize that perhaps the universe got it all wrong. Maybe there’s no one out there with a mark similar to yours. Maybe you’re not a match for romantic love in the first place. You’re already lucky enough as it is, with a friend so wonderful you can share lovely dinners with over episodes of silly tv shows, in a tiny apartment filled with affection and laughter. It’s the best you’ve felt in years and the idea of leaving has never felt as dreadful.

But everyone has to get back to their life eventually: there’s your job, bills, rent, you haven’t visited your parents in a while. All these things you’re having a real hard time caring about as Tendo offers another glass of wine, the bottle you’re sharing practically empty resting by his feet.

It’s your last night in Paris and he insisted on cooking for once, a full course dinner paired with an expensive Clos de la Roche. Notes of woods and cherries dance on your tongue when you take another sip and you shut your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. How did you end up on his bedroom’s floor anyway? Was it him who suggested sitting on the carpet with your backs pressed against his bed? No, you’re almost certain it was you. Satori tries to be less weird as a grown up, by his own admission: he leaves odd suggestions and ideas to other people, too busy trying to fit in now.

You find yourself observing his profile as he torpidly blinks, his own gaze focused on the hands holding his glass. The line of his jaw, the perfect curve of his nose. You think he’s pretty, spiky hair no longer there to tear away one’s attention from his features.

“Did you date a lot, here?”, you ask, genuinely curious. He turns to look at you, amused.

“A lot? When did I ever date a lot?”, Tendo chuckles to himself but you recognize the hurt simmering underneath the humor. It hurts you, too.

“Well, did you date?”, your impatience feels surprising but there’s no time to dwell upon unfamiliar feelings, not as Satori hums with a lethargic nod.

“Yeah, a few times”.

“They didn’t ask about your mark?”.

Tendo’s lips twitch as he remembers how ecstatic the women he went out with were upon finding out that not only his mark didn’t match theirs, he didn’t even have one to begin with. He was the safest option they could ever date, no risk of forever.

“It’s easier to date someone you know you’re not gonna end up with”, he shrugs, “they felt more comfortable, it was fun and momentary, thus risk-free”.

You click your tongue in disapproval and Tendo cocks his head, confused by your scowl.

“They, they, they. I always hated this about you, you’re always focusing on what other people think. I want to know, how did you feel?”.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that you’re about to become a fugitive presence in his life once more, but for once Satori feels like huffing out his frustration.

“Like shit”, he admits with a sly smile, “I could fall for just about anyone and I’ll always know they’re not my person. I won’t ever have a person and it makes me feel like shit”.

You’re not sure why tears are suddenly pricking the corners of your eyes. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to remember the last time Satori allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. It always felt like he talked more to Wakatoshi, man to man or whatever. You never felt like you could be fully there for him and now it’s almost too late again, only a few hours before you fly off to the other side of the world.

“I hate them”, you murmur, “it’s just cruel. You’re not supposed to be anyone’s temporary fixing”.

“I’m not ever going to be anything but that”.

“No, Satori-”, in the process of positioning yourself better in order to face him, you kick the not entirely empty glass previously resting by your leg. It’s gonna leave a stain but you’ll find a way to take care of it before you leave, this is more urgent. This requires you taking your friend’s face into your hands, to bring it closer to your determined gaze. “That’s not true. The universe doesn’t know shit, okay? I know you. You don’t need a fucking mark. In fact, you know what? I’m happy you don’t have one. Thank god. I-”, he gently puts his hands over yours and leans over to tenderly kiss your forehead. Your train of thought derails as he fixes you with an amused, fond stare.

“It’s okay. Really”, Tendo lowers your hands and then leaves them cold, head falling to the side, cheek pressed to the orange duvet cover of his bed. You’re pouting, looking more beautiful than ever underneath the dim lights of his room, and so he can’t hold his tongue.

“You know, I find it incredible that you haven’t been able to find your person yet, universe or not. How’s it possible that someone as wonderful as you is being dumped by complete idiots just because they believe in some stupid pre-decided romantic assignation?”.

You mirror his position and rest your head on the softness of his bed. Despite being still on the floor, it almost feels as if you’re lying next to each other.

“They don’t believe I’m wonderful. I guess I’m just momentary, too”.

He scoffs. Deep down, Tendo also believes everyone should be granted the freedom to pursue their desired relationship, especially you. Don’t they know how lucky they are? You ignore destiny to give those dumbasses a chance and they leave before they even get to realize what they’re missing out upon.

“I think marks are bullshit”, Satori gently takes your hand and traces your fingers with his own slowly, eyes still boring into yours, “in a world with no marks, they’d be on their knees thanking their lucky star you showed interest in them at all”.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Before Tendo interrupted your little motivational speech, you were about to tell him why it makes you happy that he doesn’t have a mark after all. Looking at him now, it’s all the more clear. It’s horrible and selfish and childish but, this way, you will never have to go through it: you’ll never have to find out that the one person who’s always been by your side, the one person who knows you better than you know yourself and still manages to love you, also isn’t the one.

Tendo is the greatest person you know, the only one you’d trust with your life. His heart is your favorite part of him: always stayed big enough to fit in all those who asked for access, kindness embedded so deep within him he never let the world’s cruelty affect it. Satori never stored an ounce of that nastiness people loved oh so much throwing at him, it let it become an armor instead. Steel made of insults, cruel jokes, mockery. It breaks your heart that he still wears it. It would break your heart to discover that someone like him isn’t destined to be yours after all, that the universe wouldn’t be benevolent enough to assign the best friend you ever had as your soulmate.

“You don’t mean that”.

You blink, slowly, actually fighting to keep your eyes open.

“What?”.

“What you just said. You’re drunk”, he chuckles quietly and, horrifyingly, you realize your mouth decided to voice those thoughts out loud.

The shock lasts a few seconds. Tendo is no longer fiddling with your fingers but your hand is still in his and the more you look into those crimson irises, the less uncomfortable you feel about what you just said. Is it the wine or is it just right?

“You think I wouldn’t be happy if the universe assigned you as my soulmate?”.

“I think you wouldn’t hate it”, Tendo softly ponders, “but that’d be far from ideal”.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that. Me and the universe would be agreeing for once”.

Satori swears his heart skips a bit. All those years, all that badly harbored hope, the entirety of his restraint crumbling pathetically after a few drops of expensive wine. You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that.

“You could look at me like that?”, the question is supposed to underline how ridiculous the idea is, but he realizes he just sounds wishful.

“I know you think it’d be hard but it really isn’t”, you laugh softly. You’re looking at him like that right now. As you abstendmindedly play with his fingers, thumb gently rubbing circles on the skin of his wrist, you appreciate the pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly furrowed brows, the sweetness of his questioning gaze.

Tendo exhales slowly. Neither of you is resting their head on his bed anymore, too captivated by each other. “I’m not sure I’d survive the discovery of you of all people, not being the one I’d be destined to stand with for the rest of my life. Because what a waste would be, for that person to be someone else”, it’s nothing but a whisper, raw honesty doing something funny to his stomach as it slips past his lips for the first time. There’s no one but you, honestly. He knows there’ll never be anyone else. The universe has planned love for those around him and an eternal curse for his heart.

“A terrible waste”, you agree and the hand not busy interlacing your fingers with his, suddenly closes around the soft fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Satori doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, effectively paralyzed by the idea of indulging something you’ll regret the second it happens.

Except you don’t. When you kiss him, tentative at first, all the pieces fall right into place. Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile as the world slows down. Then finally, finally, he kisses you back. It’s deeper, a hand pressing to your cheek, it’s corrodingly tender and you feel yourself melting into his touch, into the genuine reverence he holds for you.

Tendo feels something unravel from within, the tangles and knots of hurt, uncertainty, combust and disappear into thin ashes. He’s too lost in the moment, too drunk on how close you’re holding him as your tongue brushes against his own, to pay any attention to the itchy feeling over the skin of his wrist. Right where your thumb is pressing, a crooked triangle appears at last.

#tendo x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendo x you #satori tendo x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader

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