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#but at the same time still expects him to be on top of his grades somehow
hypewinter · 10 months
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The expectations from everyone around him had been too much. His sister and teachers wanted him to be a good student. His friends wanted him to be the perfect hero. The town wanted him to be everywhere, all at once. And his parents wanted him strapped down to a table.
Danny couldn't take it anymore. It was all just too much. So he left. He disappeared, covering his tracks and only leaving a note to let everyone know he was okay.
He traveled a while before he eventually encountered some heroes investigating an occult crime. All he did was give them a little hint and suddenly they were all over him. He had panicked for a second. Memories of his suffocating past came to him. But to Danny's surprise, these heroes were more worried about him than anything. Something about the knowledge he possessed being dangerous.
It actually felt a little nice being worried over like that and before he knew it, Danny found himself tagging along with these heroes. Apparently they were called the Justice League Dark and their whole schtick was investigating the occult.
Danny had thought he was over the whole hero thing, but he didn't mind helping the JLD. There where finally capable adults in his life who protected him. Who cared for him. They never expected him to balance two contradicting responsibilities. Nor did they expect him to be their main heavy hitter when facing a threat.
For the first time since he had turned on that stupid machine, Danny was allowed to be a kid again. He was allowed to be annoying, to ask a million questions (no matter how dumb) and most importantly, he was allowed to have fun.
Being a hero with the Justice League Dark never felt like the world ending pressure he was under back home. They had even told him he was welcome to quit anytime! Not that he wanted to.
Sure, Danny felt guilty about never contacting his friends and family and letting them know how he was doing. But he was scared. Scared that they might try some way to force him back home.
He could never go back to that place, he just couldn't. To do that would truly crush his soul.
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unequivocallyreid · 4 months
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Do You Get It Yet?
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hi guys!! this is one day late, but i literally fell asleep trying to proof read last night, so… you win some you lose some.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: Spencer Reid is your professor and you really, really need help. If only he wasn’t so distracting.
warnings: smut, little bit of fluff, professor/student relationship, unprotected sex w/ talk of contraceptives, age gap (both parties of age), breeding kink, choking, and some light degradation
this is a fun one guys! let me know what you think!
You swear you aren’t stupid. Really, honestly you aren’t. You’ve done well in school your whole life, not always outstanding, but you’ve always done well.
Right now however, you feel completely dumb. You’re in you third year of university, and up to this point, you’ve done good. Your classes are challenging but rewarding, and you have a wonderful group of people in your life. You have a cat and an apartment to yourself. You have wonderful friends, Lena and Eden, who’ve been with you since your freshman year and who you loved like sisters. Everything in your life was going right, except for your stupid, stupid criminal psychology class.
You should love it. You’ve taken classes like it before and they really weren’t a problem for you, but for whatever reason, you can’t wrap your head around the subject matter at all. Everything you learn seems to morph together and you can’t get it to sort itself out. Your teacher, Dr. Reid, is incredible. He is a genuine genius, member of the BAU (your dream job), and to top it off, he is incredibly attractive. Not just to you either! Half the class is auditing, which probably contributes to your troubles. It’s hard to focus when everyone around you is constantly whispering about how fucking hot the teacher is.
You try to avoid it. You sit at the front of the room, not the first row, but still front and center. Even so, right behind you are two or three girls who will not stop talking about him. Sure, they’re saying what you’re thinking, but good god does it get annoying. You’ve tried pointed looks, a few aggressive hair flips and humphs, and even a few well timed shushings, but they will not let up. You’d move seats but the class is full and everyone has seemed to have already found a place.
So, really, your lack of understanding was not only on you. Dr. Reid us distractingly hot, the girls behind you will not shut up, and the subject matter is just plain tricky. All of this leads you to spend a big chunk of your free time in your professors office hours, which always seem to be full.
You get it. Girls, and some boys, show up looking their best and asking all sorts of questions, and honestly if you were in a different position you’d probably do the same thing. But, you aren’t, and you really need help. You go to his room completely disheveled with a notebook full of questions that for the most part stayed unanswered. You’re lucky to get five minutes of his undivided attention. Again, you get it, those minutes are the highlights of you week, but, your grade is starting to slip.
Finally, it gets to be too much, and you find yourself spending nearly the whole class building up the courage to ask to speak with him privately. Right when he concludes his lecture you spring up out of your seat and go straight to him, surely annoying some of your other classmates.
“Dr. Reid?”
He looks up from his desk, “Hi! Ms.?”
“Y/n. Or Y/l/n, I guess. I was hoping to talk to you privately if you had time?”
“Oh! Um, sure, of course. Let me just wrap up here. You can wait in the seats.”
This has already gone better than you thought it would. Half of you expected the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be gibberish.
“Thank you so much.”
You hurry off to take a seat and wait, and wait, and wait. Around five other people stay around to try and speak with him, and while you catch him anxiously glancing over at you, each conversation still seems to stretch on and on. Finally, after close to 15 minutes, the final student leaves and it’s just you and Dr. Reid left in the room.
He looks over at you and motions for you to join him at his desk, “I’m so sorry that took so long. People tend to have a lot of questions after my lectures.”
You take a seat in front of him, “It’s no worries. That was actually part of what I wanted to speak to you about.”
You pause, wondering how you should word what you want to say. He looks at you, waiting for you to go on, but he doesn’t seem impatient.
“I’ve come to all your office hours, and it helps, I’m just still struggling and I, uh, I just feel like it’s not enough time to get my questions answered, I guess?”
You’re looking at anything but him at this point, “I’m sorry I’m just kinda out of my element. I love this subject and normally it clicks for me, but it’s just won’t. I have a notebook full of questions and I’m worried I won’t be able to figure anything out. Sorry, I think I’m just rambling at this point.”
“No, don’t apologize, I understand. This class is challenging, and a lot of the subject matter is hard to research.”
He stops to laugh, “My office hours do tend to be pretty full. I’m, well to be honest I’m not sure why. A lot of the questions people have tend to be things I explained in my lectures.”
Without thinking, you cut him off, “I think people just want to be around you.”
He looks surprised at your words, and you are as well. You didn’t mean to say that at all.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry. It’s just with a teacher that looks like you, god, no. I mean with a teacher like you-“
Your cheeks grow hotter by the second, “You know what, I think I can figure this out on my own! I’m sorry for-“
He stops you before you can finish, “Y/n, I’ve taught this class before. Half the people are auditing. I’ve gathered what that means.”
He cracks a smile at that and you feel your heart flutter.
“I meant I’m not sure why people would waste their time trying to, uh, impress me at office hours. They’re meant for students like you.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do on that front. My hours are open to anyone.”
Your shoulders deflate a bit at that, worrying you’ve wasted your time and his for nothing. He doesn’t let you stay like that for long though.
“I want to help you though. Truly. I know reaching out for help is hard and I’m glad you did.”
You look up at him then, “I can set aside some time for you once a week if you’re comfortable? We can review everything you’re not sure on until you’re up to speed.”
You were not expecting that. You thought he’d look over your questions and give you some articles and journals to review at best.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t. I’m offering, Y/n.”
“Then I think yes, I’d like that a lot.”
“Great! Email me some times that work for you and we’ll get started.”
~
This is all, admittedly, a bit above your pay grade.
Despite your best efforts, you are not a chill girl. You’re not very cool. There’s nothing wrong with that usually! You’re shy, but still manage to talk people’s ear off. It’s normally a non-issue: that’s just how you are. Today however, you are meeting with Dr. Reid and you are so not chill about it.
You had his class yesterday, and while you feel better knowing you’ll finally have help, you couldn’t focus on anything but today, so you retained nothing. All you can think about is saying something stupid or off putting and having him start to despise you.
You know you shouldn’t worry this much. He’s a professional, you’re trying to be, it should all go smoothly. They’re just the issue of the colony of butterflies who have taken up residence in your stomach. You’re nervous, so nervous, and you are not the type to get this crazy over some guy. Yes, Dr. Reid is probably the hottest person you’ve ever met, but he’s still human! You think… the fact that he’s some sort of super genius with multiple (multiple!) phds does not help to calm you.
Your entire walk to Dr. Reid’s office is spent worrying over all of this. In fact, you’re so caught in your head you find yourself barreling into someone’s back as you walk through the door of the psychology department.
You rush to squeak out an apology while picking up your notebook, but are stopped short when you look up. It’s Dr. Reid. Of course it’s Dr. Reid. You seem unable to be in the same vicinity of him without making a fool of yourself, so why would today be any different. You’d hoped to be able to manage yourself for the better part of an hour, but your professors unbelievably solid back has literally knocked you on your ass.
You do notice a ghost of a smile on his face when you look up, and you’d like to think he’s admiring you clumsiness, but it’s not likely.
“Hi,” you manage to say after a near excruciatingly long silence.
“I’m really sorry, I clearly wasn’t looking at where I was walking.”
He laughs a bit, “It’s no problem honestly. You were the one knocked off your feet, so I really can’t be upset aside from the fact you may have hurt yourself.”
This makes you breath hitch a bit. Maybe you are incredibly starved for attention from the male gender, but the slight affection of his words made you blush.
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
If you were any more articulate you’d be a public speaker, but at least you always seem to make the man in front of you laugh.
“I was on my way to my office to meet with you, but since I already have, you can walk with me.”
You nod, pushing yourself off the ground, then blush again when you realize you had this entire conversation on the ground.
The walk is silent, and you’re sure it’s more uncomfortable for you than it is for him. Any question you had has completely exited your mind, and all you can think about is how good he looks in a suit, and how much staring you can reasonably get away with.
Your first session is sweet. You manage to hold it together in Dr. Reid’s presence. He is incredibly helpful one on one, and you feel more confident about the class than you have in weeks. Before you finish, he asks if you’d like to meet again.
“Yeah, if that’s alright. This helped so much, but I think I still probably need to do some more catch up work.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Y/n, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
He pauses for a moment, like he’s considering something, before going on.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to give you my cell. I want you to be able to reach me if you need to reschedule, especially if we continue meeting, and it’s a bit easier than email.”
You’re a bit stunned but manage to reply, “Of course! But, um, is that allowed? I don’t want to over step.”
He looks away from you for a moment before replying, “I’m honestly not sure. Maybe we just don’t tell anyone?”
You have to bite back a grin, but you nod nonetheless and exchange numbers.
Although you know you shouldn’t be, you’re giddy the entire walk home.
~
So far, you’ve met with Dr. Reid three times and haven’t had to use his number once. Not that you’d been looking for an opportunity to though! It just hasn’t come up at all until today.
It’s been raining all morning, which normally you wouldn’t mind, but you’re slightly under the weather and the thought of walking to campus and risking getting more sick doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest. Though it’s not normally an issue, moments like this make you really wish you had a car.
You’ve asked everyone you knew for a ride, but they were all busy.
Currently, you were on the phone with Lena, listening as she tries to calm you down.
“He gave you his number, Y/n. Just text him and say you’re sick and can’t make it.”
“It’s the day of though! I don’t want to come off as unprofessional.”
“Babe, again, you have his number. Your relationship isn’t exactly the most profesh in the first place.”
“It’s not like that, Lena.”
“Just text him. Over explain everything like you know you want to. He’ll probably think it’s cute, maybe he’ll even offer to come take care of you.”
You can hear the teasing lilt in her voice, but, still, you rush to defend him.
“You know it’s not like that.”
“Whatever you say, babe. I gotta go, but text him. It’ll be fine.”
You say your goodbyes, and deep down you know she’s right. About texting him, not the shy sort of seduction act she thinks you have.
After contemplating for a few more minutes, you type out your message and hit send.
You: Hi, Dr. Reid. This is Y/n from your criminal psych class. I know we’re supposed to meet today, but I’m feeling like I have a bit of a cold coming on and don’t want to risk walking in the rain.
You: I’m sorry it’s late notice, if I could get there I would, scout’s honor.
You were never in girl scouts. You don’t actually know why you said that at all, but it’s too late to take it back now.
As much as you try not to, you watch your phone screen, waiting for a response.
Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. You see a typing bubble pop up, then disappear, then pop up again, before finally two messages come through.
Dr. Reid: I completely understand. Don’t worry.
Dr. Reid: I could come to you? If you’re comfortable.
When you read that, you feel your stomach drop to your ass. You decidedly not expect him to offer anything like that. A few things fly through your mind, but mainly that Lena may have been right, and having your professor come to your apartment is, at least, frowned up by admin. Still, the image of him in front of you, in your home, with your cat, is too much to resist.
With shaking fingers, you text him back.
You: That would be wonderful if you’re sure you’re okay with it.
You: Friendly warning, I have a very affectionate cat.
Dr. Reid: Good to know. Is 4 still alright?
You shoot him back a quick yes and your address, and then get to cleaning every square inch of your apartment.
~
Dr. Reid is an angel on Earth.
When you hear a knock at your door, you have to stop before answering to regulate your breathing. When you finally do, you see your professor in front of you in a cardigan (a fucking cardigan) and togo cup of tea that he immediately hands to you.
It’s all like a hopeless romantics wet dream. Hot professor, in the rain, at your house, who clearly cares about you in some way? It’s like he’s trying to kill you.
You step aside to let him in and move to your couch, “You really didn’t have to do this.”
He stands for a moment before sitting at the opposite end and saying through a laugh,“The tea or coming over?”
“Both, I guess? I just feel bad that Ive take up so much of your time. I feel like a bit of an inconvenience.”
“Y/n, please stop worrying so much over this. I want to help you learn, it’s not an inconvenience or a both or unnecessary.”
You really look at him then, trying to read whether or not he’s being genuinely. He just seems too good to be true, like he’s a fiction character made just for you. Well, not just for you, but in your fantasies that’s how you’ll think about it.
The next couple hours are spent reviewing material you are sure he taught weeks ago and stealing glancing at his mouth when you are sure he is not looking. Your kitty makes a few appearances too, and seems to have formed an instant attachment to the doctor. You are not as sly with your staring as you’d like to think, and get caught a few too many times. Honestly, you are trying desperately not to think about anything but academia, but he makes it so unbelievably hard. Not to put the blame on him for your insatiability, but jesus fuck. Intelligence has always been incredibly sexy to you, and it oozes from him
Despite the distraction, you’ve been doing good in terms of building your understanding. Now however, you are on the verge of tears, chocking down a knot in your throat as you try to make sense of anything coming out of Dr. Reid’s mouth. This has to be the third time he’d tried to explain it to you, and while this is the entire point of these meetings, you feel like a failure.
The doctor is lost in his own world, trying desperately to explain the concept in a digestible way, so he doesn’t notice your state. That is, until you sniffle, just slightly, and immediately avert your gaze.
He cuts himself off, “Y/n? Are, are you okay? What’s wrong.”
It’s too much, so too much. What kind of dick asks something like that, with that much care in his voice. You can’t help the tears starting to fall.
“I’m so sorry. I just, I can’t understand it.”
He looks at you with his beautiful eyes and says, “Y/n, it’s okay-“
“No. God, you must think I’m a fucking idiot. No, not fucking, I didn’t mean to say fuck in front of you. God this is terrible.”
You’re fully crying at this point, and you can’t bear to look at Dr. Reid.
He stays silent for a moment, before you feel movement on the couch and look up to see he is much closer to you.
“You’re incredibly intelligent, Y/n. I, I would never judge you for needing help.”
You bury your face in your palms, and, very eloquently, try to speak through them.
“Sir, you really don’t need to say that. I know I should have been able to grasp this weeks ago, all of this.”
“Spencer.”
You look up, “What?”
“My name is Spencer. You don’t have to call me sir or Dr. Reid. I’d like for you to call me Spencer.”
“Well, Spencer then. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I really don’t know why I thought any of this would help, clearly there’s something seriously wrong with-“
You’re cut off by a hand on your jaw, guiding you to look up. Dr. Reid’s hand. Spencer’s hand, and it’s gentle and he’s staring at you, and you feel like your skin is on fire underneath his palm.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/n. You’re one of the most capable, intelligent people I’ve ever met. I’m breaking nearly 20 different codes of contact by being here, but I can’t help it.”
You feel all your words caught in your throat, and all you can fucking think about is his hand and his eyes and his lips. You don’t know what else to do, so, in an act of unusual bravery, you push forward and press your lips to his.
The response is immediate. All thoughts in your head are gone and replaced by a mantra of Spencer’s name. You feel his hands move to the nape of your neck, holding you to him, and his lips pressing yours open so he can glide his tongue over yours. You’re breathless and ruined, and when he pulls back you’re too struck by him to speak.
“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/n. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before”
Your forehead is pressed to his and you breath out, “Show me.”
The hand on you tightens its grip, but the man before you pulls back a bit, and it becomes your only point of contact.
“I, I can’t. I’m your teacher, I’m nearly 20 years older than you. I shouldn’t have even kissed you.”
“I kissed you. I want you, this. I want whatever you’ll give me.”
“It’s wrong, Y/n.”
“I don’t care. I want you, Spencer.”
Hearing you say his name must break his resolve, because in a moment his lips find yours again, and he’s pulling you into his lap.
To recap, you’re in your home, on your couch, straddling the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and his lips are trailing down your neck and over your clavicle. You put your arms around his neck, threading your hands through his hair and experimentally rolling your hips against his.
His hands grab your hips, stilling your movement, and breaks from his assault on your neck to say, “I won’t be able to control myself if you do that, Y/n. I need to know what you want.”
“I want all of it, doctor.”
The honorific must do something for him, because he growls low in his throat before once again connecting with your lips. The same hands that just stilled your movement now guide your hips to press into him harder. You feel his length beneath you and moan into his mouth.
You’d fantasized about this for months, but now it’s actually happening and it’s so much better than you could have ever imagined. You feel him every where, and he knows exactly what to do and whisper in your ear to drive you fucking crazy.
You move your hands from his hair and break from his lips to pull your shirt off. You make eye contact with him and then reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving that part of yourself entirely exposed to him.
“Fuck, Y/n.”
The expletive takes you by surprise for a moment, but you snap out of it quickly, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your chest. He moves quickly from that point, cupping your breast in his hand and toying with your nipple. Your lips find his again, and you feel him move to flip you, but you stop him before he can.
“Bedroom, Spencer. Please.”
He nods and you climb from his lap. On your way to the room, he discards his shirt. You can’t help but ogle his frame. He’s slender and sinewy, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. The angles and curves of his frame fit
together to create the perfect portrait of a man. He has scars littered over his arms and torso, but they don’t phase you.
You’re under him on the bed now, your core raising to meet his desperately.
“You’re so beautiful. So beautiful, I’m so lucky.”
His words cause a blush to form on your cheeks, which you can barely focus on as his hands are in the process of pulling your shorts and panties down your legs.
“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked, huh?”
You whine as his fingers make contact with where you need him most.
“Is this all for me, Y/n? Who’s making you this wet?”
“You, sir, only you.”
“Jesus, baby.”
If someone had asked hours ago you what you thought your professor would be like in bed, this was the last thing you would’ve said. Not that anyone would ask… but still. He’s nerdy and adorable, and while his looks are literally to die for, he doesn’t scream ‘I’m gonna fuck your brains out’.
His fingers pick up their pace on your clit as you find yourself trying to undo his belt. You’re desperate to see him as bare as you are. He stops to help you get his pants down, and when you see him in his full glory you feel a little faint.
“You’re so big.”
He lets a little whine slip through, “Yeah? Biggest you’ve had?”
You blush a little at his tone. As much as you’re trying to fake it, you don’t have as much experience in this field as one might expect for a girl your age.
“I’ve only been with one other person, so yeah.”
Your candor is decidedly not sexy, and you really have no clue why you would say that right now. The man above you does not seem deterred though, if anything it spurs him on.
“Fuck, Y/n. Didn’t know you were so innocent.”
You blush again, but reach to grab him, trying to prove how good you can be. He’s heavy in your hand, and part of you worries how he’ll fit. You know you’re programmed to accommodate, but the thought is daunting.
He must sense your concern when he says, “Don’t worry, love. Gonna stretch out this pussy for me.”
With that, his fingers resume their previous task, and he slowly moves down to trace your entrance with his middle finger. The sensation has you spinning, and let breathless moans leave your body he slowly starts to open you up. His fingers are long and precise in their movements. Every time he thrusts into you, they graze a spot that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.
“You’re doing so good for me, puppy. Letting your professor fuck you with his fingers.”
You can barely breathe, and your climax comes closer with every passing second. When his thumb moves to press over your clit and his other hand presses firmly on your lower stomach, you’re done for.
“Good girl, Y/n. Coming so pretty on my hand.”
Your orgasm is stupefying, and all you can think or say is Spencer’s name. You grab at him, desperate to find something to ground you, and you hear him moan as your nails dig into his back. He doesn’t stop for a moment, continuing to press into you and riding you through your high.
Once you come down, though you can still feel your legs shaking, you want more. You want all of him. You take him in your hand again, pumping up and down his shaft at a lazy pace.
“Spencer, I need you to fuck me.”
He laughs, his hand still on your core, “Ask nicely, Y/n. You come on my fingers and all of a sudden your manners disappear? You really are desperate for me, huh?
You didn’t want to admit it, but he’s right.
“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me, I need it.”
“Good girl,” he takes your wrist and leads your hand to your mouth. “Spit.”
You aren’t exactly sure what he’s doing. You think he might be teasing you more, letting you work him over until you beg, but he answers all your questions quickly.
He guide your hand back to grab him, helping you jerk him off before he grabs himself and lines up with your entrance.
In his first Dr. Reid like moment in the last hour he stops and asks, “Fuck do you have a condom? I obviously didn’t think we’d do this, so I don’t have anything on me.”
You’re panting with anticipation at this point, but still manage to get out, “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I trust you.”
His eyes go soft for a moment, before he continues his previous mission. He lines up again with you, before teasing your slit with the head of his cock. If you didn’t want him so bad, you could’ve come like this, but you are desperate. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the point, and he does.
“I could play with that pussy all day if you’d let me, Y/n.”
You want to protest, and tell him to get on with it, but you don’t have to. You feel his tip
slowly pushing into you as he lets out a groan.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
He’s slow and careful, and you can’t remember sex ever feeling this good. You know he isn’t all the way in, but you already feel so full. When he does reach the hilt, you let out a low moan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you, filling you in a way that is unbelievably good. He stays still for a moment before slowly pulling back and thrusting into you.
You can tell he’s being gentle, but hard enough and fast enough to have your legs start shaking more heavily again. You already feel a pit in your stomach, and you know you’re going to come, for a second time, embarrassingly fast.
“Fuck yes. So good for me, Y/n.”
The way your name sounds in his mouth drives you crazy. The only thing you can think about is how badly you want this moment to go on forever. Everything about him is perfect. Even now, while fucking your brains out (literally, you could make yourself say a word even if you wanted to), he’s cupping your head in his hand and telling you how beautiful you are.
Now that you’re more accustomed to the size of him, he takes your thigh, pushing it up to your chest, and starts too fuck into you faster and harder. His pelvis rubs over your clit with every thrust, driving you crazy. Your hands are in his hair and down his back, grabbing and clawing at him.
“You love taking this cock, huh baby? Love how deep it is in you. Can’t even talk you’re so fucked out.”
His words go straight to your core, but you know what you need to come again. You guide his hand up near your sternum and manage to cry out a few words.
“Please, need it. Need you.”
He takes your request to heart and moves his hand to your neck, squeezing the sides. You feel yourself get light headed in the most incredible way. Tears are forming in your eyes. The feeling is so intense.
“So perfect for me. Gonna fuck you dumb, puppy.”
You whine at the nickname, you didn’t even know you were into that.
“You’re just sucking me in, Y/n. Hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”
You’re close, and you can feel the pit in your stomach start to spread and take over. Spencer’s hand on your throat tightens slightly, and it only take a few more thrusts before you’re coming on him.
“Coming. Fuck, Spence you’re making me come.”
“That’s right. Come all over this cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”
Your vision is going white at the edges and you feel like your whole body is shaking.
“Fuck, gonna come just watching you. Gotta pull out, baby.”
You grab him before he can, “No! Want it inside me.”
He groans above you and you feel his hips stutter.
“Fucking Jesus. Want me to fill you? Make this pussy mine.”
You nod, the tears now falling down the sides of your face.
“Gonna come, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna come in your perfect fucking pussy.”
You can feel when he does. His dick is pulsing in you, filling you completely, just like he said he would.
When he comes down, he pushes his lips to yours, kissing you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. For a while, he just lays there, kissing you.
“Gonna pull out now. Gotta clean you up.”
You whine, but nod regardless. You feel empty at the loss of him, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you feel a warm towel wipe around your centre.
“You gotta go pee, Y/n. Don’t want to develop a UTI.”
Five minutes ago this man was coming inside of you, and now he’s back to being the man who came to your house in the rain with tea. You do know he’s right though, so you pull yourself out of your bed on shaking legs and make your way to your bathroom.
When you come back in, you find Spencer with his pants back on. Your heart breaks a little.
In a small voice you ask, “Are you leaving?”
He looks up at you then, “Do you want me to stay?”
You don’t know why you wouldn’t.
“If you don’t want to you don’t have to.”
You can feel tears welling up again, but these are different from before; he notices immediately.
“Baby, baby don’t worry. I don’t want to go, I just didn’t want to over step.”
You laugh a little at that, wiping your eyes, “I think we’ve gotten over all the steps, Spencer. I, I want - Just please stay.”
He nods and moves to take off his pants before sliding into place next to you. His arm wraps around your waist and you feel a tingle in the spots where he touches you.
“I don’t want to have this be a one time thing,” you blurt out.
You feel him hold you a little tighter then.
“I was never planning that, Y/n. Now, sleep. We can talk about how much I’ve come to adore you tomorrow.”
END!! i hope you all love it!
tag list! (leave me comment if you want to join and i’ll add you): @sabage101
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sttoru · 7 months
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♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.
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⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.
⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k
⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t
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kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.
he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.
overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.
a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’
you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.
both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.
11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.
‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’
you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.
you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.
despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.
all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.
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03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.
he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.
the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.
kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.
‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.
“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.
kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.
you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.
“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.
kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.
yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.
“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”
kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.
he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he
not that that would stop kento.
your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.
strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —
“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”
your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.
you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.
“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”
his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.
“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”
those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.
“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.
it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.
“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.
you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.
“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.
both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.
kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.
“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”
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jinkicake · 1 year
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~ ♡ Late Night Visits ♡ ~ 
(( Day #2 )) Aizawa, Dabi, Hawks, Shigaraki x Reader
A/N: i havent written for these losers in months and I haven’t even watched the new season yet but I've seen pics and that’s enough for me.... i had to write for the dilf, the arsonist, the double agent, and the stinky league fan one more time just for fun!-
NSFW // SEMI-SMUTTTTTY
WC - 2,238
~~~
. . .
Aizawa is tired. 
He all but stumbles into his apartment before he carelessly tosses his scarf onto the kitchen floor. With his strong fingers, he roughly pulls at the roots of his hair. 
Almost like thin air, you appear behind him. Had he not been so accustomed to your cold hands, he would have flinched at the feeling of them running underneath his shirt. 
“Are you alright, dear?” You press your cheek into his back as you flatten your hands across his muscular abdomen, it’s no secret that you’re feeling him up but, Aizawa doesn’t mind one bit. If he had any complaints about your (sometimes) odd habits then he would have never married you in the first place. “Did you have a tough night?” 
The gentle kisses you press along his spine, standing on the tips of your toes to reach the back of his neck, make the man sigh in contentment. 
“I’m just tired, that’s all,” He mumbles and it’s a miracle that his words don’t slur together. 
“Sleepy?” You egg on and Aizawa reaches for an empty coffee mug on the counter. 
“Just tired.” He narrows his eyes at the lack of substance in the container, he could have sworn that he filled it up earlier before his patrol. “I still need to finish those exams,”
“I already graded them for you, don’t worry about it,” You coo before you teasingly dig your nails into his sides, Aizawa grunts at the tug. 
It feels odd for the man to not drink coffee right now at almost four in the morning. Still unsure of your motives, he suspects that you don’t expect him to sleep right now.
“Come on, come on,” You push your weight against his back to get him to move but, your husband doesn’t budge a single inch. “let’s go to bed.”
“Let me take a shower first,” He snaps but there is no malice in his words, no threat or anger. It’s more like a gentle nip that makes you roll your eyes. 
“No, I said bed,” Again, you pinch his skin and this time lower your hands to the front of his baggy pants. 
Aizawa gets it now, why you want to drag him to bed instead of force him to go to sleep. In a way, it’s the same thing. You always fuck him to sleep and he falls for it every time with little complaint. 
He has never been able to turn you down.
It’s how he finds himself leaning over the counter, bending over your soft body as he rolls his hips against your ass. You’re much too tight for him to move but, he couldn’t be still even if he wanted to. Aizawa leans on one of his muscular forearms against the cool top of the counter while his hand palms at your breast. You keep squeezing your thighs together and the guttural groans that leave the man because of it are sinful. He’s loud, much louder than he usually is and maybe it’s because of his initial tiredness but you just feel too good for him to care. 
“Are you going to cum for me, Shouta?” Your voice almost sounds like a purr, calling out to him and beckoning him with a backward roll of your hips. The soft giggle that leaves your lips causes his hips to stutter. “Cum in me,”
. . .
When Dabi finds himself pulling out his key to open your apartment, he scoffs. He wants to roll his eyes at this ‘domestic shit’, it pricks him like an uncomfortable thorn in his side. How odd. His heart beats a little faster in his chest whenever he’s around you and whenever he’s not, he finds that the missing beat is replaced with a dull ache. The man will never understand his own bodily reactions and doesn’t want to. He ignores it, like most powerful emotions in his life. 
It’s nearing two in the morning when he finally pushes past the door to your bedroom. His clothes are long gone and now on your floor, phone discarded on your table. He stares at you, in nothing but his boxers, as you rest. 
“Cute,” Dabi hears himself say and again ignores it entirely. He can’t be blamed for it, you really are cute with your leg poking outside of the blanket. From this angle, he can almost see what’s hidden underneath the rise of your pajama shorts. His fingers start to burn as his soul demands to touch you, and like a moth drawn to a flame, Dabi can’t stay away. 
He runs his fingers along your bare thigh, gently stroking your skin higher and higher until he reaches the curve of your ass. It would be so easy for him to push the shorts aside and-
Dabi pulls his hand away.  
Something snaps inside of him as he moves to sit on your bed instead, ultimately laying over you as he stares up at the ceiling. He doesn’t think about his feelings, he doesn’t want to. Dabi continues to ignore the pull even as you squirm out of your slumber. 
“Get off, asshole,” You say this but still attempt to wrap your leg around his waist. When this doesn’t work, you finally sit up and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 
There’s a glint in your eyes that almost makes Dabi nervous. 
“Are you here to fuck now?” You grin and the smile is entirely knocked off of your lips when Dabi pushes you back against the mattress. He relishes in the sound of your laughter, filled with delight, and he tries to think of anything that can compare to it. 
Nothing can but, he doesn’t admit to that. 
He ignores it, like all things related to you, and kisses you instead. In an effort to soothe his racing heart, the man focuses on the push of his lips. He memorizes the way your lips mold into his own, pushing and pulling until your mouth parts open for him. The messy smacks of your lips captive him too well as he lowers himself onto his forearms. 
Dabi swears against your tongue as you spread your legs and wrap your thighs around his broad waist. The dig against his staples makes him bite back another curse but he can’t complain since he gets to feel your ankles pinch his lower back. 
He nearly cums altogether when you loop your arms around his neck and tug on the ends of his dark hair. That’s when his restraint breaks and that’s when he stops kissing you in favor of pinning you back against your mattress with a hand to your throat. 
“Stay still,” Dabi murmurs quietly as he runs his eyes over your exposed belly, the hoodie you were wearing is now pressed over your chest. He lowers his face without a second thought, “and I’ll make you feel good.”
. . .
“Oh, pretty bird,” 
At the sight of your sleeping form, Hawks can’t help but coo in adoration. He immediately sends his wings off in different directions to care for you. One pulls your blanket up higher to rest just under your chin while another brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. 
You’re too sweet, it does terrible things to his heart. 
After his initial greeting, the prohero continues with his nightly routine (the one when he is not on call) while his feathers continue to shower you in love. He removes his outerwear and shoes then heads for the bathroom. 
He isn’t sure when his feathers started to take a more ‘thoughtful’ approach at making sure that you’re comfortable but, all Hawks knows is that he can now hear your moans over the running water from the shower. 
“Keigo!” You curse out his name as you rip the blanket off of you, the vibrations between your own legs are starting to get the better of you. Hawks is now all too aware of the situation, he can practically feel your arousal leaking between your thighs and the little twitch of your clit against his vibrating feathers. 
This is why he never lets his feathers run on autopilot. 
He rinses off quickly, ignoring the soap still trailing down his legs before grabbing a towel and throwing it around his waist. 
“I’m so sorry, babe-” The rest of his apology dies on his lips as his throat runs dry. He thought you were angry and upset since you had every right to be but, this, this sight before him is at the forefront of every single one of his wet dreams. The almighty prohero nearly falls to his knees. 
You’re there, knees bent and spread wide by two of his feathers while another rests against your cunt, and you’re tugging and toying with your own nipples. Each pull of your fingertips makes you gasp out in pain but the ache is quickly soothed by another one of his feathers vibrating against your soft breast. 
Hawks didn’t even know he had that many of his feathers back but, he can’t even think about counting them when he starts to drool. 
“Baby,” He calls out almost pitifully, reaching for you as he crawls on the floor on his hands and knees. You throw him a pointed look before ignoring him to focus on chasing your own high. The slight arch in your back and convulse of your pretty cunt, Hawks knows the telltale signs too well. “please,” He whimpers now before kissing his way up your calf and thigh. 
At some point, he becomes too impatient and decides to trace the expanse of your leg with his tongue. The taste that decorates your skin makes him shiver. 
“Come on,” The hero can beg all that he wants but, his feathers are now in their own control. Hawks couldn’t stop moving them even if he wanted to (not that he ever would). 
In your own way of being generous, you straighten one of your legs and rest the pad of your foot against the thin towel covering his hips. The moan that leaves him is almost embarrassing but Hawks couldn’t care less, he desperately needs more from you. 
. . .
Shigaraki’s eyes burn as he stares at the bright computer screen. For once, it’s not his own screen that he is staring at. It’s three in the morning and you are still in your own little world. 
He’s watching you bitterly as you continue to happily play a shitty farm simulation. Somehow, he’s become so distracted that his C6 Yelan has died multiple times while fighting a pesky low-grade ruin guard. 
Why are you giggling over some pixel flirting with you? Why are you cooing at digital cows?
The need to pull at his light hair becomes stronger and Shigaraki thinks his eyes may fall out if he doesn’t blink in the next handful of seconds. When he manages to tear his eyes away from you, blink, and look back at his phone screen, his entire team is dead. Yelan is gone, Raiden is gone, Kokomi is gone, and Collei is gone. Not like he cared much about the last character. 
He doesn’t even fix his team, he simply closes the app out of frustration before stalking over to you. There’s no effort on his part to be quiet at all and you wordlessly glance over your shoulder when you hear the rough slams of his socks against the hard floor. 
“What?” You hum and barely give him another glance as you go back to brushing your sheep. Shigaraki nearly growls in irritation. 
“Get up,” He narrows his eyes and then instantly regrets his choice of words once you slowly pause your screen. Shigaraki’s legs nearly buckle under the intensity of your glare and he tries to wrack his mind for any possibility to go back on his words before you get the chance to scold him. 
He’s fought proheros before, survived a fucking experiment that took months in the process, and he still can’t face you when you’re angry.
“What?” You keep your face leveled despite the judgment in your eyes. Shigaraki clicks his jaw. 
“I meant, ” He disregards his pride entirely as he looks to a random corner of your room. “Can we sit together please?” It’s your pleasant hum that brings his attention back to you. 
And it’s now his own pitiful moans that serve as a reminder, his pride means nothing in the face of you. 
Shigaraki will gladly suffer blow after blow to his pride if it means that you will sit in his lap and circle your hips while continuing to play your game. Each tight squeeze of your cunt has him gasping for air, roughly gripping the edges of the chair while his hips relentlessly buck up into you. He can’t control the way his gut wrenches and thighs tense as you happily bounce up and down on his cock. Each time you slam your hips down, it nearly crushes his balls and he can’t think of a more blissful feeling. 
“Harder,” He grits his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, as he eagerly awaits the next painful slam. You place your controller down without a second thought before moving again, taking turns rocking your hips and bouncing up and down.
Shigaraki knows what happens when he interrupts your game, you don’t stop until you drain all the cum out of his balls. But, being the masochist that he is, he loves it entirely too much to stop. 
. . .
2023/02/03 ♡
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Miguel’s and reader’s meet cute (baby daddy AU: College days prequels)
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Baby Daddy Masterlist
Not proofread.
Word count: 900
Taglist is closed!!
Miguel had always been told from his elders that college was going to be a fresh start. A new school, a new roommate, new possible friends, new opportunities, a new path to his future. He had been preparing and planning how his freshmen year would go the second he finished walking the stage at his high school.
So far, things were going to plan, he made it to his first set of classes early to get a good seat, although not in the front due to his height (he didn’t want to be an ass to the people behind him), was able to get up early in the morning to go to the gym, his relationship with his roommate Peter was even going well. Although he was a bit more of an extrovert then himself, they still got along fairly fine. So far everything has worked out for him.
His third day of classes was going just like the first two did, waking up around eight a.m, working out till ten, getting a protein shake and some breakfast, then be at his first class by twelve. To his surprise though, the lecture hall was already almost filled despite him being ten minutes early. Making sure to take a mental note to try arriving a bit early as he took one of the few lingering seats in the back row between a girl and another guy.
The girl next to him shot him a quick smile when she saw him sitting in the empty seat to her right, one to which he returned before going to quietly set up his laptop for note taking. She was quite pretty, her hair clipped up into a ponytail, long-sleeve cream top and some flared leggings, a black backpack hanging off her chair and a metal water bottle covered in stickers next to her laptop, also covered in stickers. But despite her warm and welcoming presence, Miguel decided to pay her no mind as he idly waited for class to start.
After another few minutes, the professor finally began. Droning on mostly about the course expectations and grade requirements, before he starts his actual lesson. The room was mostly quiet except the professor and the occasional murmur from other students talking between one another about the subject. Miguel was so sucked into the lecture, he barely noticed the quiet tapping of a finger on his desk.
“Hey. Excuse me.” The quiet whisper pulled him back to present time, turning to the source of the voice, the pretty girl who’s sitting next to him. “Hey sorry, I didn’t pick up the last thing he said, it’s kinda hard to hear him from up here. Can I…” you trailed off, pointing towards his laptop. Usually, Miguel would scoff at the implication of someone asking him to take a glance at his notes, telling them to ask someone else or maybe pay better attention. But for the pretty girl in his statistics class…
“Yeah here.” He whispered back, turning his laptop to his side so she could see better, giving her a moment to write it down before turning it back to its original spot.
“Thanks.”
“Course.”
That’s were the conversation should have ended, he should have left that be and just focused back on the last twenty minutes of class before walking out to his next one. Leaving this be a passing moment, a barely acquaintance that he’d nodded at when you’d cross paths in the courtyard until he simply didn’t anymore. Instead though.
“I like your water bottle.”
“Hmm?”
“I like your water bottle. It’s cute.”
“Oh.” God that sweet, sweet smile, made his heart melt a bit. “Thank you, I was hoping it doesn’t come across as childish or anything.”
“Oh no it’s fun, I just have one of those plastic Gatorade ones.”
He didn’t even notice that he ended up making conversation till the lesson was over, finally realizing when he saw the guy to his left get up.
“Guess class is over, huh?”
“Oh-yeah, looks like it is.”
Miguel set his laptop back in his bag, and got up, waiting till you did the same before walking out of the lecture hall.
“Thanks again for letting me glance at your notes.”
“Of course, if you ever need help with notes, just let me know.”
“Yeah totally, I’ll try to catch you after class or something if we don’t sit next to each other next time.” Oh, he was definitely planning on sitting next to you next time. But he wasn’t going to admit that, instead he shook his head and waved his hand to play it cool.
“No, that's too much of a hassle, let me give you my number, so you can just shoot me a text.” Wait till his younger brother found out he already gave a girl his number during his third day of class.
You both took a second to exchange numbers, Miguel was about to create the contact when he realized he never got your name.
“I’m sorry , I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself. I’m Miguel.” He said as he stuck his hand out towards you.
“I’m (Y/N).” Pretty name for a pretty girl. You quickly took his hand in yours, shaking it before putting it back to your side.
“Well I hope to see you around, (Y/N).”
If only he knew his faith with the pretty girl from his statics class.
Taglist is closed!!
Taglist: @scaleniusrm @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @mcmiracles @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood @miguelsfavwife @tomalymme @farrowroyale @beckberin-xo @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @chrishy973 @amberpanda99 @fruityfucker
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jinnie-ret · 5 months
Text
THE TUTOR
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poly!stray kids x reader
genre: fluff, angst
content warnings: toxic relationship (not with SKZ)
word count: 5.4k
summary: becoming lee felix's tutor was quite possibly the best decision she could have made. toxic exes, university assignments and a whole lot of confusing feelings, how does skz fit into this equation?
collab w/ @astraykidforsure
I've absolutely loved working on this with my gorgeous talented pookie! I think it's my fav fic written ever so to have collabed on this was so fun to share our ideas together and give you this!!!
Here is our other fic here which you can find on her page! It's the cutest fluffiest Christmas fic ever so I hope you enjoy :)))
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Handing in the penultimate assignment of the year, Y/N couldn't hide her sigh of relief when she gave her paper to her professor. She had given everything to this piece of work, sleepless nights, even forgetting to eat sometimes too, as she was so caught up in her studies. It happened that just as she was handing in this assignment, she was given her results of the previous one she had done. Feeling as if it had been ages ago since she had completed it, Y/N was pleasantly surprised to see the number on the document her professor handed to her.
"85, that's another 'first', top grades as always, Miss Park," Mr Jung, Y/N's English Literature professor grinned at her proudly as he handed her paper back to her.
"Thanks Mr Jung!" Y/N grinned happily, always one to be energetic and bubbly no matter what kind of hurdle was in her way.
"Now, I look forward to reading this one here... but I have one request," Mr Jung pushed up his glasses as he gently placed down her recently finished assignment onto his stack of others he would be due to read.
"Oh, what is it?" Y/N pursed her lips curiously, hands behind her back as she wondered what Mr Jung was about to tell her. She was very much so looking forwards to a small break so hopefully whatever he said next wouldn't be something that would consume a lot of her time.
"One of the students in our class, Lee Felix, I assume you know him? He's falling behind, and I thought you'd be the perfect student to help him. So what do you say?" Mr Jung proposed the idea to Y/N of becoming Felix's tutor.
This wasn't exactly what she expected. Lee Felix? Everyone on campus knew him and the friend group he was a part of. You couldn't not know him. He stuck out especially to Y/N, not just because of the fact he was on the same course as her, but because of his sweet personality and how nicely he treated everyone around him. She aimed to be like him.
What Y/N didn't already realise, was that she was a similar kind of person, and people recognised her kindness. Although she mainly kept to herself, always had her nose in a book or her head in the clouds, she greeted everyone kindly. And for that, she was already loved so much.
It couldn't hurt to help out, could it? Sure, she wanted a break, but this should be things she already knew. And it wasn't like she would be forced to spend her time with anyone horrible. The only thing remotely intimidating was the fact that she'd be presumably meeting one of the most popular friend groups on campus.
But, perhaps it would be nice to properly talk to them, instead of just greeting them like her friendly self normally did.
"- Miss Park?" Mr Jung was still staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.
"Sure, I'll do it," Y/N grinned, adjusting her bag on her shoulders before waving her professor goodbye.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
It was 4:30pm. Right on the dot.
Y/N had arrived perfectly on time, oddly nervous for her first tutor session with Felix. Maybe it was because she hadn't spoken to him properly, apart from the emails back and forth on when to arrange a mutually good time to meet. And that took a while in itself, because Felix didn't seem to check his emails a lot. It would be much easier once she had his phone number to text, and it seemed much less formal too.
Not only that, but it would be nice to see a different name pop up on her screen other than her persistent ex, Johnny, who couldn't seem to forget about her.
Knock, knock, knock.
Y/N stood awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other before the door opened.
"Y/N right? Come in, come in, sorry about the mess!" Felix cheerfully greeted her with a pre warning of the state of his dorm, which she quickly realised he shared with all of the other guys.
Was it messy? Yes, but the typical mess you'd expect for a boys' dorm. It was homely though. Domestic.
On a coffee table, there was a computer science textbook lying open beside a laptop covered in cat stickers, neatly kept to one side, almost to avoid the art materials spread precariously across the furniture. There was barely any room for the puppy patterned mug of coffee to sit, most likely brewed from the expensive coffee machine in the kitchen, Y/N had noticed. The TV screen was on, showing the title screen of a game she didn't quite recognise, she wasn't much of a gamer herself. As she glanced to where she could take off her coat in the lobby area, there was a gym bag, a backpack with headphones peeking out of the top, and some keys scattered to the side, charmingly accompanied by a koala keyring and a kangaroo one too.
"Don't worry about the mess, it's homely," Y/N shrugged, taking her coat off and feeling a bit surprised when Felix wordlessly took it out of her hands and hung it up for her.
"That's the excuse Hannie always uses..." Felix chuckles, before his eyes widen, "oh yeah! My boyf- roommates are all home right now around here somewhere, so don't be shocked if you see one of them walking about. We can study in my room if you want? It'll be much quieter," he stumbled on his words.
"Sure, whatever is more comfier for you, Felix," Y/N grinned as he nodded once more and they set up things in his room at his desk. Felix brought out his laptop to takes notes as Y/N brought out her notebook. Clearly they had different ways of studying, but that didn't seem to deter her, things like that didn't mean much when she was here to help.
"So, how much have you gotten done so far?" Y/N popped the lid off of her pen, both of them giggling as it flew onto the floor somewhere.
"Don't hate me if I say none of it?" Felix replied sheepishly as he crouched down to retrieve the piece of stationary and sat back down in his seat.
"I can't hate you, silly! I've only just met you!" Y/N shook her head with a gummy smile, not knowing she was melting Felix's heart as she did so.
And so, they began, Y/N guiding Felix to the best references and praising him for his ideas that he thought of for the assignment. She made sure she steered him in the right direction and he seemed to be on the right path already.
Knock, knock.
The door opened to reveal two handsome men, both with sharp features, one with longer black hair and the other with a bold purple style.
"Here, have some brain power," the guy with purple hair put the plate down in front of the two, Y/N already smiling at the colourful fruit presented in front of them.
"That's Minho by the way, and that's Hyunjin," Felix pointed out to Y/N, before munching on a piece of honeydew melon. She waved at them with an enthusiastic 'hi' as they made themselves at home in Felix's room.
Hyunjin stretched across the bed as Minho perched against the desk on Felix's side.
"I think I'll be eating most of this then if it's for brain power," Felix grabbed a few more pieces of fruit, shoving it into his mouth contentedly at the sweet taste.
"You better save some of it for Y/N! She's the guest! Plus, I had to spend time with Minho in the kitchen, with a knife... My life was on the line for these snacks!" Hyunjin professed dramatically, sat up on the bed now as he moved his hands around whilst explaining.
Y/N couldn't help but giggle along with Felix, Hyunjin noticing this as he smiled at how comfortable she was around them already.
"Just wait, you'll have to stay for dinner one time, and then you'll see!" Hyunjin widened his eyes comically, as Y/N nodded along in agreement.
"You like to cook, Y/N?" Minho asked curiously, showing interest in the girl who came round to tutor his boyfriend.
"I'm not the best at cooking actually... Most times I just eat ramen for dinner or order fried chicken," she pinched her lip habitually and covered her awkward grin, yet everyone else could still see it from the way her eyes crinkled.
"Ah! That's not good, I'll have to feed you, make sure you get something nutritional in that belly," Minho patted her head as he tutted.
"That's our Minho, he always cooks for us, he's such a doting boyfriend-" Felix nuzzled his head against Minho's stomach before freezing in place. He may have hidden their secret before but this time he couldn't help himself.
"Y/N, look, we-" Hyunjin stumbled over his words as he stood up now, next to Felix and Minho as he took in the girl's shocked expression.
"It's ok, it's ok, I won't judge," she quickly held her hands up to try and calm them.
"It's easier said then done, not exactly conventional having 8 guys date each other," Minho sighed, stroking Felix's hair soothingly to show he didn't blame the younger.
"Please don't tell anyone," Felix couldn't even look her in the eyes. He felt like he had already blown his chances of getting good grades. Like, what a bombshell to drop on your tutor. Oh yeah, by the way, I have 8, boyfriends but keep it a secret, please.
"Guys, please, it's ok, really. I wouldn't dare tell anyone. That's not my information to share, I'd rather you act natural around me then hide that side to yourselves, ok?" Y/N spoke carefully, taking in all of their expressions to make sure her message was heard.
"You've got a good tutor here, Lixie," Hyunjin sighs in relief, a small smile painting his face.
"I do," he nodded in agreement, relieved that she was someone he could not only learn from, but trust too.
Y/N would come to see a lot of sweet interactions between the boys, and also get to know them a lot more too. This was only the start.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Over the next few weeks, Y/N had really gotten to know the other guys quite well, and when she had reassured the rest of them in person that their secret was safe with her, the arms she was welcomed with were open even more.
"Hi love, come in!" Chan softly smiled at her as she entered the dorms, her books already clutched in her arms.
"You're in a cheery mood today, Channie, get some sleep for once?" Y/N laughed and teased the older boy, looking away mischievously when he pulled a face that said 'why did I let her and Seungmin interact?'.
"Go on go, go find Felix and help him study," he fake sighed and shooed her away, pushing her in the direction of Felix's room with a laugh, but wincing when her phone hit the floor. "Oh sorry!" he was quick to pick it up, the phone lighting up with yet another text message, making him frown.
"Oh it's fine, don't worry," Y/N went to grab it back quickly and hesitantly, Chan let her.
"Who's Johnny?" he chewed his lip as he asked the question.
"He's no one," Y/N shrugged him off, making sure she had all her books ready and was about to enter Felix's room, hand reaching for the handle when Chan realised he couldn't let this go so soon.
The rest of the boys and himself had grown to like Y/N a lot in such a short space of time. Her caring nature had stolen a piece of each of their hearts and they found themselves exuding that same care towards her.
"Love, it doesn't look like nothing, that was a whole lot of texts," Chan warily rested a hand on her shoulder.
Y/N sighed before moving over to their sofa, Chan following right behind her.
"It's really nothing... I'm used to it," she shrugged, biting on the inside of her cheek.
"So if it's nothing why are we taking a seat to talk about this, hmm?" Chan calmly spoke to her, lightly pinching her cheek to get her to stop.
"I don't know if I'm overreacting or not... sometimes I think I am but other times, here just look," Y/N shakily hands over her phone to Chan, and he grasped her hand in his as he read the more recent ones that appeared in her notifications.
"These messages are horrible, Y/N, why don't you just block him?" Chan was horrified at the threatening messages he read, nostrils flaring more and more at each word that his eyes scanned.
"He always finds a way to message me from a new number... See?" Y/N reluctantly released her hand from Chan's as she unlocked her phone and showed her messages, previous conversations all with the same tone to them, but from different numbers. "You can always tell it's him messaging because he always leaves a space between the full stop and the word. And then he doesn't use slang in his texts apart from 'ur'," she further explains to Chan, who was in disbelief at how she spoke so causally of what was happening to her. Yet, he could tell there were some feelings she was internalising too.
"You're too smart for your own good, love," Chan rubbed her shoulder, proud of her analysing skills that she recognised it was her ex. "You really don't deserve this," he murmured, leaning his head on top of hers.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
It was nice, to feel that love and appreciation again, without having any labels attached. But then it had Y/N thinking, what really was this thing between her and the boys?
"Aren't you going to take a break too, Y/Nnie? Felix has been playing this game for at least twenty minutes now!" Changbin leant his head back on the sofa arm as he watched the girl diligently flicking through her notes whilst Felix went to take a 'short' break and play on his PC.
"Ah, it's fine haha, I want to make sure I've got some stuff ready for when Felix is done," Y/N brushed off Changbin's concerns and pushed back a stray piece of hair as she read through the notes she had made during the afternoon.
"Nope, no, not having it, I'll get Seungmin to make you some of his fresh coffee and then you will sit here, right next to me," Changbin sat up, patting a space on the sofa next to him, "and drink it."
"But Changbin-" Y/N sighed, covering her face and leaning back into the chair at the table, already hearing the whirring of the coffee machine in the kitchen, meaning Seungmin was around and overheard the small harmless bickering.
"Nope, now come, sit here," Changbin didn't budge, from not just his seat but his efforts to getting Y/N to take a break too.
She groaned as she complied and sat next to the muscly guy, who hummed in content when he felt the dip of the sofa next to him.
Seungmin entered the lounge, bringing over a mug of coffee for Y/N, dainty sunflowers painted all over it.
"Wow this mug is so cute!" Y/N grinned as she held it up slightly to admire it.
"Good. It's your mug," Seungmin nodded as he sat at the end of the sofa, a mug of coffee made for himself as he placed it done on the table.
"My mug? I don't even live here, Seungmin," Y/N tried to laugh it off, but she couldn't help but feel butterflies at the warmth she received from these guys. The way that they always made sure she felt at home in their home.
"You might as well, haha, with the amount of times Felix invites you over to study when half the time he's all distracted," Seungmin pushed up his glasses, turning to look at Y/N.
"Well I thought that's why he wanted me over more... Because we didn't get enough done in the first place?" Y/N pursed her lips in thought, before blowing on the coffee to try and cool it down even though it had been freshly brewed and was still very hot.
"Interesting take... I'm with Seungmin on this one though," Changbin raised an eyebrow at Y/N's reasoning before cooing at Seungmin, reaching over to pat him on the knee.
"Ew, hyung," Seungmin wrinkled his nose, bringing his legs further up on the sofa and curling up.
"Hey! Don't reject me in front of Y/N... i-it's embarrassing! I'm a desirable man!" Changbin complained loudly, throwing his arms up in the air before folding them and sinking into the sofa.
Y/N couldn't help but agree, nodding to herself as she bit her lip. Changbin was a handsome man. All of them were. They were all lucky to have each other, not only for their looks but their personalities too.
"I saw that look, you're not so sly, sunflower," Seungmin whispered in Y/N's ear as he patted her head before wrapping his arms around Changbin to quieten the pouting man, cheekily biting his neck in the process.
"Yah! Kim Seungmin!"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A rough day was rare for Y/N, for she always strived to push any stress away and focus on what she was meant to be doing. But with another influx of texts from Johnny, he wasn't making her day so easy. Even more so because he was waiting outside of her class.
"Never answer my texts huh? I just want you to talk to me, that's all I want!" Johnny grabbed Y/N's wrist and took her to the side of the empty hallway.
Not only was the poor girl shocked at him grabbing her harshly, she also wondered how he knew where her class was, they didn't even take the same course, let alone similar ones for him to be in the same building as her.
"You don't deserve that, Johnny, not after what you put me through," Y/N pulled her arm away from him and redirected herself outside, hoping that was all this confrontation would be.
Oh how wrong she was. Walking outside where there was more students around should have made Y/N feel safer, even with Johnny on her tail, but with the gossipy nature of the university, it made things worse.
"Don't you want me?" Johnny growled, his voice too loud for her liking as people around her pulled out their phones and started filming as he grabbed her wrist tightly once again.
"No! I don't! I hate you!" Y/N said through gritted teeth, trying to regain ownership of her own limb.
This seemed to frustrate Johnny even further, his intentions becoming more and more clear.
He spat at her, right in her face.
"People like you don't deserve to even be with me, I'm doing you a favour!" he tried to pull her along with him.
Y/N felt helpless. Why wasn't anyone helping her? They were too busy hiding behind their phone screens.
"No, I'm doing myself a favour and getting away from you!" Y/N took matters into her own hands and despite the fast beat of her heart she stomped on his foot and stormed away quickly, wiping her tears as she did so.
It wasn't long until the video started floating around other students. Chan and Changbin, who were in one of the studios courtesy of the uni's musical facilities, received a text from Minho.
Minho: pls tell me this isn't y/n...
[vid.attchmnt]
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Is that my favourite person in the world?!" Han hugged Y/N as soon as she walked through the door.
Han had admired Y/N as soon as he met her, always wanting to cuddle her because he thought she was so sweet and 'too pure for this world'.
And oh, did Y/N need that hug, especially after the day she had.
"Hey, she was mine first!" Felix wrapped her up into a big hug of his own as he pushed Han away, not too hard though.
Mine?
That would be a thought for another time...
Pushing the boys away and letting them bicker playfully between themselves, she sat down next to Jeongin on the sofa, who was absorbed in whatever video game it was that he was playing. She often had comfortable silences when she was in the space of the younger. But she likes that. They could appreciate each other's presences without needing to say much. Without needing to say anything.
Y/N sighed and rubbed her head as she read through her notes once more, wondering what part of the words that were jumbling right in front of her very eyes, would be more useful to Felix today.
"You should play one day," Jeongin spoke up quietly, as to not disturb her focus and for him to maintain his own as he fiddled with the joysticks.
"Ah I don't know a lot about gaming, plus staring at the screen would give me an even worse headache right now I think," Y/N sank deeper into the sofa in defeat, rubbing her eyes as she tossed her notes aside.
"Let me get you some painkillers," Jeongin immediately paused his game, standing up and walking into the kitchen.
"No it's fine-" Y/N tried to stop him.
"You take them with water?" Jeongin ignored her attempts as he called out from the other room.
"Yes," Y/N replied quietly but he still seemed to have heard her.
Jeongin returned into the lounge with two painkillers and a some water in a glass prettily painted with sunflowers on it. It wouldn't be hard to guess who bought her that.
"Cute glass," Y/N fondly smiled, as she sipped the water slowly and swallowed the painkillers.
Jeongin loved how she was still able to smile despite the pain she was in. He admired her for that.
"A certain puppy picked that one out, convinced Minho and Jinnie that it was necessary," Jeongin nodded at her, taking his seat but not returning to his game straight away.
"Well I love it, I'll tell him thank you later if I see him," Y/N placed down the glass and instead of relaxing into the sofa once more, she found herself in a pair of arms instead.
"I'm sure you will," Han gently hugged her gently this time, noticing her demeanour was quieter than usual and that she had taken some tablets.
"You sure you want to study today, Y/N?" Felix rubbed her knee soothingly, not wanting to pressure her.
"Yeah, I'm sure, maybe we can take it slow today?" Y/N makes a compromise, not wanting to let down the sunshine on front of her.
"Of course, of course, love, that sounds like a better idea, just tell me if you want to take a break, yeah? Don't want you to be feeling in pain just because you're trying to help me," Felix kisses the top of her head, making her blush.
What was going on with her heart? Maybe she was just still feeling shaken up from earlier on.
"Y/N, why didn't you tell us something happened between you and Johnny?" Han suddenly tensed up, and Y/N could feel it. She didn't dare look at the video Han was playing on his phone.
In that moment, Seungmin and Hyunjin entered the dorm, frowns on their faces.
"Ah Seungmin! There you are, thanks for getting me this glass, you really didn't have to," Y/N tried to change the subject, hoping their frowns would disappear but it didn't work.
"Nope, don't do that sunflower," Seungmin shook his head, taking off his shoes and putting his slippers on.
"Angel, why didn't you say anything, hmm?" Hyunjin walked over in front of the sofa, hands on his hips.
"No wonder you weren't feeling great," Jeongin's eyes widened in realisation after watching the video over Han's shoulder, handing Y/N the glass of water once more to encourage her to take some sips.
"I don't know what you're talking about..." Y/N didn't even believe herself as she spoke.
"Y/Nnie, there's a video going around of you and Johnny in the square at uni," Hyunjin crouched down in front of her.
"Wait? I haven't seen that video, I've only seen the one of hyungs cornering him," Seungmin spoke up, sharing a confused look at Hyunjin. He was sure they had been speaking about the same thing earlier, yet with both of the information they had seen from different videos, they must have been able to fill in the gaps.
"W-wait they what?" Y/N stuttered as she looked back and forth between the boys.
In that moment, Seungmin held up a video playing on his phone, showing the three eldest of the group cornering Johnny against a wall, holding him by the collar of his shirt as they shouted at him.
Y/N couldn't believe her eyes.
"It's ok," Felix's deep voice soothed her as he wrapped an arm around her and hugged her closer to his chest.
"Let's just have a relaxing evening yeah? Take your mind off of it," Seungmin instructed, tucking Y/N's notes away into her bag.
"Felix is that ok with-"
"Don't even worry love, it's fine," Felix rubbed her shoulder once more, Han holding her hand as he leant his head on her shoulder.
They all began to relax, watching a Disney film. Y/N cuddled up between the September twins, and Jeongin reluctantly allowing his overly affectionate hyungs, Seungmin and Hyunjin, to coddle and cuddle him.
Around halfway through the film, the front door unlocked and 3 sets of footsteps marched inside.
"Is she here? Is she ok?!"
"I swear she was meant to have a tutor session with Lixie today but they're not in his room..."
"Wait, her shoes are here."
Chan, Minho and Changbin all sighed in relief, almost synchronised, as they saw the object of their concern cuddled up to their other boyfriends.
"Y/Nnie, love, come here a sec," Chan whispered into her ear, gesturing her to come to the side to talk to all 3 of them.
She felt nervous just standing there as their eyes scanned her to make sure she was physically ok.
"Guys, you didn't have to do that..." Y/N shook her head, hands retreating into the sleeves of a jumper Han let her borrow because he insisted a cosy jumper is a cosy heart and it would make her feel better.
He wasn't wrong.
"Oh but we did, it wasn't right what he did to you Y/N, and I don't know what he's done to you in the past but..." Changbin trailed off, fists clenched at the thought of Johnny.
"He'll never hurt you again, ok?" Minho promised, hand caressing her cheek gently.
"And if he does anything again tell one of us right away, we got you," Chan rubbed her shoulder, a pout on his face reflecting Y/N's as her eyes welled up with tears.
"Thanks guys," Y/N sniffled, hugging each of them.
Hyunjin, who was snooping on the conversation with eager ears, called out across to them, "yah! Don't make Angel cry, we just calmed her down!"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Y/N was confused. She wasn't as sure anymore, or, at least not as much as before, that is. Sure, she knew about their relationship, of course. Though she wasn't apart of it. They seemed to act so nice and loving towards her. Always helping her out, Felix giving her extra attention and affection when he thought she needed it. The boys always bring her food whenever they got food themselves. They'd ruffle her hair and give her soft smiles. Back hugs and forehead kisses. It's so much more than that. They just treat her so well. She's supposed to keep their secret, but, then again, she's not dating any of them.
Despite everything, does that mean they're messing with her? Are they doing this to mess with her feelings? She sure hoped that wasn't the case. She's been having so much doubt lately with this situation she seemed to have gotten herself stuck in. But, she didn't want to be seen as if she was trying to interrupt or ruin their relationship by confessing. Seriously, one girl and eight guys? She wasn't so sure that it was realistic, whether she wanted it to be or not.
She just wanted this guilt that she constantly felt to go away. She didn't want to stress over this anymore or worry. She hated these nerves that she constantly felt, continuously. She wanted this to be over, even if she never ended up dating them.
Knock, knock, knock.
"We've missed you," Jeongin was shocked to see her as he opened the front door, blurting out the first words that came to mind as he welcomed her inside.
It had been 5 days since they saw her. But it was 5 days too long.
Y/N stood at the edge of the lounge not knowing what to say as the boys all turned and gasped as they saw her.
"What's been going on, Y/Nnie?" Han slowly asked.
"Talk to us love..." Felix begged, he just wanted to know why she created some distance between them all.
"Don't call me that when you don't mean... When you don't want..." Y/N ran a stressed hand through her hair, not knowing how to articulate herself because her emotions were all over the place.
"Come sit down ang-, Y/N, it's ok, talk to us," Hyunjin went to call jer ny his usual nickname, but sensing her discomfort, he chose not to this time. And it felt weird.
"I'm so confused right now..." Y/N began, perching on the edge of the armchair where Changbin was sat.
"You asked me to keep your relationship secret and of course I'd never tell anyone but, I feel like, gosh no I can't say it it'll sound so stupid," Y/N scolded herself, Chan patting her back lightly as he stood next to her.
"Nothing you say is stupid, you're very clever, sunflower," Seungmin shook his head, not liking the sight of the girl he was so fond of, looking so distressed.
"What am I to you guys? L-like am I just Felix's tutor to you, or just even a friend or-"
"You're much more to us then those things, and I know you know that by now," Minho leant forward in his seat on the sofa.
"We like you, a lot, Y/N," Felix said with his hand on his chest.
"W-why couldn't you just tell me that? I-i've been going out of my mind," Y/N ducked her head down, covering her face with her hands.
"We didn't want to pressure you after that situation with your ex..." Changbin grasped her hand from next to her.
"Oh, sorry, yeah I get that..." Y/N sighed.
"Come on, where's that smile gone?" Hyunjin cooed, tickling her sides and successfully making her laugh.
"We really like you Y/N, and we were hoping you'd want to be a part of our relationship too," Chan crouched down in front of her.
"You sure?" Y/N was wary. This wasn't a trick right?
"Never been more sure of anything in our lives," he was quick to squash her worries, kissing her on the cheek.
"Then, yes, I'd love to be with you all," Y/N grinned that gorgeous smile that they loved so much.
It was the best decision she could have made agreeing to be Felix's tutor. It brought so many people into her life that she already held dearly to her heart, people she knew she'd come to love even more in her life. The little things they did for her with more care than anyone else had ever paid her attention to. They gave her the love she deserved, the love that she'd never lose.
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taglist: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami
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giamee · 26 days
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𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄!
╭─────────────────────── ( 🥭 )
a continuation of examining the intricacies of high school not-quite romances
› 〉 📂 .ೃ | high school au, short corny fluffy hcs of them as your crush yay !!
requested by @kaixblossom
╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ confession time!! i know fuck all about argenti but he's a pretty pretty man so i will write about him in this. same for luka. sorry if i get their characterisations wrong i'm going off of vibes alone. will i be adding them to my masterlist though? probably not. ps new layout yayyy :3
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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ARGENTI.
-he's considered a role model within the school as not only head boy, but one of the best students in the year with the highest grades
-and of course, on top of all that, he just has to be unbelievably pretty, too
-a very good candidate to be your hallway crush
-you get a little giddy every time you walk past him, especially whenever he greets you in passing
-much to your delight, it had been happening a lot more often recently
-you had whipped out your phone to text your friend about this little crush of yours, not looking where you were going as you blindly navigated the school's hallways
-and, just your luck, you bump straight into something before you can even send a single tect
-your phone clatters to the floor- you have a screen protector, thank god, and you duck down to grab it, offering an apology to whoever it was profusely.
what you didn't expect, however, was for the other person to also bend down, your hand brushing theirs as you both reach for your fallen belongings
-"oh! sorry-"
-you finally look up, stunned to see the very subject of your desires before you
-argenti merely smiles, offering you your phone which you take from his grasp bashfully
-he then offers you his hand, and if you weren't blushing before then you were now as he helps you stand back up
"thank you..."
-"don't mention it." he smiles down at you kindly, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious
-"though, you should probably be more careful when texting and walking at the same time. even though it is cute."
-he leaves you to short circuit with a simple wave, continuing on his way as you look down at your phone with shaking hands as you finally manage to send a new text to your friend
you: HE CALLED ME CUTE !!!!
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WELT.
-he's a somewhat elusive crush of yours
-you know that he does art, and as a result spends most of his spare time and lunches in an art room
-the very same one that you had as a homeroom in mornings before class
-there's no real rule about who can and can't use the rooms at lunch, but it still feels taboo to come in there, especially since you aren't an art student
-you had an essay due next period, and your school's library wasn't exactly known for its quiet atmosphere, so you had to seek out another place to get your head down and finish your assignment
-upon seeing welt, you realise that may be easier said than done
-he isn't being loud, no, but he's distracting in other ways
-he himself is concentrating on his own work, some sculpture that he's shaping out of clay
-the crease in his brows is cute, you think to yourself
-you also feel like a perv for staring at his hands and forearms for so long as they shape the clay, but you weren't going to tell anybody that
-you finally pick your seat at the same table he's on, taking way longer than necessary to unpack all of your stuff, any excuse to keep looking at him
-and even as you got to writing, you couldn't help your wandering eyes from drifting away from your notebook at to him in all of his glory
-it was mortifying to see that he was already looking at you, an amused smile on his face as you flushed from getting caught
-he merely chuckled to himself, his deep voice sending butterflies to your stomach as he returned to his sculpture
-you'd have to ask for an extension next period
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUKA.
-this crush creeps up on you out of nowhere
-your school had a lot of volunteering programs with the local neighbourhood, and you thought that you might as well sign up to one
-it would look good on your college applications, after all
-you weren't too sure what to sign up for, ultimately choosing a daycare for children
-there weren't any other names on the signup sheet, so you assumed that you would be the only one from your school helping out
-but on the first day, you see a guy roughly your age also waiting outside the building, and you decide to be friendly
-"are you here to volunteer as well?"
-the guy turns to you, and you realise that he has a really nice smile
-"yeah, i am! my name's luka, by the way"
-he's got a really nice voice, too
-and the rest is, well, history
-he's upbeat, and fun, and while the volunteering was never awful to begin with, luka's presence just made it that much better
-so really, you should have expected your friendship with him to ever so gradually begin to evolve into something deeper
-you couldn't pinpoint exactly when it became a crush, but you suspect that it had something to do with his insistence on walking you home to make sure you got there safely
-and how in the colder winter nights when the sun is already down before you two even begin to walk back, and you're trying to freeze in silence, luka decides to bring your attempt at being a martyr to an abrupt end by lacing his fingers with yours
-his hands are warm, and it's a welcome addition to your life, much like the rest of him
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𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist
178 notes · View notes
minastras · 3 months
Text
we fell apart when the sky was orange (and now every sunset reminds me of you) // beomgyu
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Two long years after he broke your heart, Choi Beomgyu remains your first and only love. Unfortunately he’s now also your colleague, and you’re not sure if you ever really got over him.
at a glance: gender neutral reader, exes to lovers, office au, angst, fluff, ft. enhypen’s heeseung, itzy’s ryujin, and p1harmony’s keeho
words: 6.5k
warnings: swearing
notes: happy valentine's day!! i'm like an hour late but shh hope u enjoy <3
——————————
Your one-and-a-half year long relationship with Choi Beomgyu, the first serious relationship either of you had ever had, ended abruptly during a lovely evening in the East Coast Gardens. You’d gone there together with some of your friends for a picnic and to watch the sunset, celebrating finishing your second year of university.
At some point, you and Beomgyu left the rest of the group to take a walk along the beach. The sky was tinted that showstopping blend of pink and orange only seen at dawn and dusk, and he was holding your hand.
“We have to break up,” he blurted out, letting go.
When you two walked together, it was typical for neither of you to speak for long stretches of time. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected him to break the silence with, but it surely wasn’t that.
“What?”
“We have to break up,” he repeated, barely even looking you in the eye. His voice was flat, but his jaw was so tight he was slurring all of his words. “It’s, uh, it’s been real.”
The glow of the sunset, as breathtaking as it was, faded into the background for you. “It’s been real?” you echoed in disbelief, your mind still lagging ten paces behind your mouth. “Gyu, you can’t be serious. What happened?”
He took a step back from you. “Nothing happened. We just aren’t right for each other.”
“But- but we’re in love,” you protested, hating how childish you sounded. Maybe you were. Maybe it was your juvenile foolishness that had convinced you he meant it when he said ‘I love you too’, as if the ‘too’ tacked on at the end wasn’t a clear enough sign he just said it to agree with you.
You couldn’t remember what happened after that — what he’d said in response, if anything, whether you’d stormed off first or if he’d left you there in the sand, if you had cried. All you remembered was the heartwrenching drive home, shoved in the backseat next to a friend you’d long since lost touch with, periodically tipping your head back so your tears wouldn’t spill over.
——————————
Two years later, everything worked out in the end. You’d like to think so, at least, because you and your best friend Ryujin had just graduated from university at the top of your cohort. With your grades, you both easily secured jobs at the biggest accounting firm in the country as recruits in their prestigious Graduate Talent Programme. It was your first day on the job, and you were about to meet the other GTs.
“No way,” Ryujin muttered.
“What?” you asked, but as the question was leaving your mouth you saw what she was pointing at. Or, more accurately, who.
Beomgyu saw you at almost the exact same moment you did. He locked eyes with you too quickly for you to have pretended not to see him, so you stood rooted in place as he made his way over to you. The expression on his face was unreadable.
“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. You couldn’t recall the last time you heard your name come out of his mouth. Even though the office was stuffed with people more important than you two, people you should’ve been introducing yourself to, you saw and heard and felt no one but him.
“Hi, Beomgyu,” you returned, his name heavy on your tongue.
He rocked back on the heels of his black dress shoes — so opposite to the sneakers he used to wear everyday back when you dated, the white ones you had given him for his birthday four years ago and he refused to replace despite them just about falling apart — and put his hands in his pockets.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he said. You sensed a degree of wariness creeping into his tone now. He looked exactly the same, barring his slightly shorter hair with his icy grey highlights taken out.
“Yeah, what are the odds?” you asked, making casual conversation as if you couldn’t hear that same wariness in your own words.
He wore a crisp white button down, starched impeccably into perfect plains that wrapped around his broad torso, a thin black tie, and black slacks. He’d clearly gotten better at tying ties. You remembered struggling through the How to Tie a Windsor Knot WikiHow article with him before one of his job interviews, both of you flailing around helplessly for nearly an hour before you succeeded.
He nodded to someone standing behind you, prompting you to turn around. “Nice you’ve got Ryujin with you. Heeseung got in too, if you remember him.”
You did. When you and Beomgyu were still together he often told you about Heeseung, an old friend from high school he gamed with online. You wondered what he had told Heeseung about your breakup.
Thankfully, someone else called for everyone’s attention right then, and you booked it to the other corner of the room.
“Good morning everyone! I’d like to introduce our brand new GTP recruits. GTs, if you would please come to the front.”
You and the four other GTs awkwardly shuffled forward, and you ended up standing right beside Beomgyu. The universe hated you; that was the only explanation. Ryujin was too busy stifling her laughter to feel sorry for you.
“Joining our auditing team are Shin Ryujin, Lee Heeseung, and Yoon Keeho. Joining our advisory team are Y/N and Choi Beomgyu. Please give them all a warm welcome!”
The rest of the office clapped politely while your world crumbled around you (fine, you were being hyperbolic). Of all the people on the planet you could’ve been paired with, it just had to be him.
He still smelt the same, wearing the same cologne he’d worn when you were together. The same cologne which clung to your bedsheets for weeks after you broke up.
You closed your eyes for a split second, looking down so no one would notice, and took a deep breath. Then, you raised your head again, turned to Beomgyu, and held out your hand.
“I look forward to working with you,” you said with a polite smile.
He raised an eyebrow but shook your hand anyway.
——————————
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Your new team lead whisked you and Beomgyu around from office to office, throwing more information at you than any normal person would be able to process, giving you no room to breathe — let alone talk to the man who’d broken your heart two years ago and was apparently not over you, either.
Clearly, not talking to him didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about him.
Perhaps he was thinking about you too, because you’d catch him watching you out of the corner of your eye when he thought you were distracted. But your interactions with each other were limited to curt, perfunctory statements and uncomfortable glances.
After clock-off, your new colleague Keeho suggested all the GTs go out for drinks. He claimed it was so you’d get to know each other better, but it was clear he just wanted drama. You were at the bar ordering another mocktail when Beomgyu pulled out the barstool next to yours.
“Make that two, please,” he told the bartender, sitting down. Neither of you said a word. You snuck a glance at him to find him already looking at you, so you turned away and stared straight ahead.
Were you over him?
Truthfully, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t tell the difference between being hung up on an ex and grieving someone who’d been such a pivotal part of your life. Maybe it was the whole ‘you never really get over your first love’ thing other people talked about.
He cleared his throat. “Hey.”
You winced, bracing yourself for awkwardness. “Hey.”
“So, uh, you look-” he hesitated, cutting himself off, “How’ve you been?”
“Good… good. You?” You were starting to regret ordering a non-alcoholic drink, because he was just as pretty as you remembered and it was doing your head in.
Ryujin always said you needed to date again, that you’d never move on unless you put yourself back out there. To your credit, you did try. But you ran all your attempts at dating into the ground with all the same flaws of yours that had ended things between you and Beomgyu two years ago.
“Good…” He paused again, and then straightened his back and put his hands on the bar counter, open and declarative. “Can we not do this? Can we just start over?” he asked.
“Start over?” you echoed.
“What happened between us happened so long ago. We don’t need to dredge all that back up again,” he said.
The bartender returned with your identical drinks and, before you could say anything, Beomgyu handed over his credit card. He waved away your surprised gratitude, raised his glass, and held the other one out to you.
Maybe to another person, someone who knew him less well than you did, he’d seem cool and confident. But you could see a tentativeness in his eyes, a slight shake that told you he was worried you wouldn’t respond well, that you wouldn’t take the olive branch in his hand.
You let out a small laugh, the group chat revelation from this morning still rattling about in your head, and tapped the rim of your glass against his.
“Sure, Gyu. Let’s start over.”
——————————
You and Ryujin spent the entire night and most of the next morning’s commute to the office debating what ‘start over’ meant. She thought it meant going back to the courtship stage (whatever that was), and you thought it meant erasing yours and Beomgyu’s history entirely and beginning anew. As strangers.
“But he isn’t over you!” she protested, drawing ire from the elderly couple sitting in front of you on the train.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” you mumbled. “Nothing’s going to happen between us. We literally didn’t say a word to each other yesterday at work.”
Ryujin shook her head. “You’re wrong. There’s something there. I don’t know what, but there’s something.”
Nearly a whole week passed before you began to admit she was right, when even you could no longer bury your head in the sand and pretend you didn’t see it. You kept telling yourself you were content with carrying on your ostrich roleplay for as long as humanly possible, but it was starting to grate on you.
Every year, the GTP recruits were expected to put together a proposal paper and presentation on what they felt the company could improve. The deadline was in two months — how were any of you supposed to be familiar enough with the company by then to make policy recommendations?
“Our team lead keeps saying the company needs ‘fresh eyes’,” Keeho said during your first meeting for the project a week later, already careening off topic. “She stares right into my soul whenever she says ‘fresh eyes’. It’s fucking creepy.”
“It is creepy,” Heeseung agreed, twirling his pen between his fingers.
“Do we all have our notes ready?” Ryujin asked, wrangling the meeting back on track.
Beomgyu helpfully gathered up each of your notes and passed the stack over to you. You were friendly now after that night at the bar, but there was so much tension between you two that even your team lead pointed it out.
“You’re in charge of this, right?” Beomgyu asked. You had volunteered to do the boring work of collating all of your ideas and suggestions into a draft skeleton outline for the proposal paper.
“I’ll help you,” Keeho offered, smiling at you from across the table. “I’m happy to do the auditing parts.”
Beomgyu folded his arms and leant back in his chair. “They can manage.”
You had to stop going giddy every time you saw him in a shirt and tie.
“Actually, help would be useful,” you said to Keeho, ignoring Beomgyu not because you were annoyed, but because you didn’t know what to make of his interjection. Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu scowled.
——————————
You and Keeho had arranged to work on the report after lunch that day. Beomgyu wasn’t keeping tabs on you or anything, he just made sure to remind you that you had a 3pm advisory meeting with him the same afternoon. Yes, that was the only reason he cared about what you did with your time.
And the only reason he was hovering around by Keeho’s office cubicle was to make sure you weren’t late for the meeting. Not because you were there. Not because you were with Keeho. Not because you and Keeho kept laughing and playfully pushing each other. What could possibly be that funny, anyway?
“Can I help you?” Keeho asked Beomgyu, finally noticing his presence.
Beomgyu ignored him and looked straight at you, tapping his watch. “Let’s go. It’s 2.50.”
“Ah, already?” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, gathering your things up from Keeho’s desk. “Sorry, Keeho. I’ll finish it tonight.”
Keeho smirked as his gaze shifted from you to Beomgyu and then back to you, before he let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take it from here.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You scrambled to your feet to follow Beomgyu to the lift lobby.
The meeting room was just three floors above you, and as soon as Beomgyu led you into the lifts he braced for you to ask him why he was in such a rush. It only took a minute to get there. But you didn’t; maybe you would have a couple of years ago.
——————————
Beomgyu waited until you and him were alone in the office — an hour or so after the end of the work day — when he just couldn’t take it anymore.
“There’s so much weird sexual tension between you and Keeho,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual. To both his amazement and relief, you didn’t seem to notice.
Your lips twitched, like you were about to reveal something but quickly decided against it. Beomgyu remembered when he was able to read you like an open book, but those days were now long gone and he couldn’t tell what you were thinking anymore.
“He’s hot. And tall. And he seems nice,” Beomgyu continued, unsure what he was trying to accomplish.
“I don’t really date anymore,” you blurted out, seeming to regret saying that almost immediately.
“Why not?”
You shrugged, now regaining your composure. “I… I don’t think I’d be a good partner. For anyone.”
It was Beomgyu’s turn to falter. He watched you carefully as the realisation started to sink in. The walls of the now quiet office felt like they were closing in on him. You’d blamed yourself for the breakup. He’d made you think you were too broken for love.
“Oh, god, did I do that to you?” he asked, so quiet it was nearly a whisper.
“…It was a long time ago,” you replied after what seemed like forever, a non-answer if ever there was one, glancing up from the desk and flashing him a tight-lipped smile. It didn’t even get anywhere near your eyes. “We don’t have to get into it. I’m sorry I brought it up. Like you said, we should just start over.”
He swallowed his pride and shook his head firmly. “No, I was wrong. We should talk about it. I don’t want to leave things unsaid.”
The version of him that had broken up with you would never have said that. That version of him refused to even admit when he had a headache. That version of him dumped you because he couldn’t handle you ‘always needing to talk about feelings.’ It was hard for him to stomach that fact, even all these years later.
“I don’t know- I had so many issues and I expected you to be my answer to all of them. I just figured that if even a guy like you couldn’t stand me, I was beyond redemption,” you shrugged.
Once, during a particularly hectic exam season back in university, you had completely shut yourself off from him, all your friends, even Ryujin. You didn’t talk to anyone for a week. You didn’t leave your room. You didn’t answer any of his texts or calls. He knew your parents were fighting and your rent had gone up past what you could afford and you were struggling to pass your classes. There was nothing more he wanted than to drive over to your place and hold you, to tell you everything was going to be fine, but you refused to let him.
“Do you still think that?” he asked, his throat feeling exceptionally tight.
“Maybe. I’m not sure,” you admitted.
Even back then he knew why you refused, although he wasn’t ready to admit it at the time. Whenever you did try to open up to him he would shut down, so eventually you stopped trying.
Your phone alarm went off before he could think of a response, a generic default ringtone. It used to be a recording of him quacking like a duck, because for some reason you found that hilarious and he liked doing it to cheer you up.
“I should go. My train’s coming,” you told him.
He blinked, blindsided. “Oh- okay.”
You packed your bag and stood up, walking to the lift lobby and pressing the button. Then, in a fraction of a second, you dropped the facade.
“Don’t take what I said too seriously, Gyu,” you assured him. “I’m alright now. I’m in a good place.”
He stared at your eyes, trying to decipher them, but you seemed to be telling the truth. After a second or two, he pulled his shoulders back and nodded. There was still a weight on his chest.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled.
The lift doors behind you opened, and you smiled back. The weight lifted.
“See you tomorrow, Gyu.”
——————————
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The GTs were meeting before the work day officially started to discuss the progress you and Keeho had made yesterday. You and Ryujin got on the train an hour earlier than usual.
“Are you gonna say yes?” she asked, after you told her Keeho had asked you out on a date yesterday. She had a slice of buttered toast in her mouth in flagrant disregard of the ‘no eating’ sign right behind her.
“I don’t know,” you groaned, dragging out your last word like a whiny child. You only acted like this in front of Ryujin. “I should, right? He’s nice.”
“I don’t think you should date people on the basis of niceness. I think you should date them based on whether you actually like them,” she said, never being one to sugarcoat the truth for you, before her eyes widened in realisation. “Don’t tell me it’s because of Beomgyu.”
“It’s not,” you said, and she gave you a knowing look. “Well, it’s not not. What if I’m broken?”
Your conversation with Beomgyu hadn’t left your head since yesterday. You were still bewildered that he’d insisted on talking to you about your breakup; it was so unlike him. Or at least the version of him you remembered.
“I don’t understand how you can take him breaking up with you the way he did as an indictment on you and not him,” Ryujin said. “He always acted like you were some big emotional burden when most of the time you were just a bit sad and needed a hug. And he couldn’t even handle that.”
——————————
Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Keeho were all already in the meeting room when you and Ryujin showed up, even though you were five minutes early yourselves.
“Keeho brought doughnuts,” Heeseung announced instead of saying ‘good morning’, pointing to the box on the table. Ryujin grinned and skipped over to the box to grab one.
“Y/N, do you want Oreo or cinnamon?” Keeho asked, checking to see which flavours were left.
Beomgyu looked up from his phone and said nonchalantly, “Y/N doesn’t like eating in the morning.” The statement was addressed to Keeho, but he looked right at you as he said it.
You stared back at him. He remembered, but of course he did, because you used to watch him eat breakfast while only nursing a giant thermos of coffee every morning. He always nagged you about not skipping ‘the most important meal of the day’, and you always insisted that that was a myth. (For the record, you were right.)
“Uh- yeah. I’m good, thanks,” you stammered after far too long a pause.
Keeho cocked an eyebrow, looking between you and Beomgyu like he had yesterday with a slight smile on his face, before taking the last cinnamon doughnut for himself.
Five minutes before nine, you wrapped up your meeting. Beomgyu and Keeho offered to stay and reset the meeting room while the rest of you hurried to your desks, until you realised you’d left your phone behind and circled back to get it. Right as you reached for the door handle, you heard something that made you freeze.
“Y/N told me you asked them out.” Beomgyu’s voice was barely muffled by the closed door.
Peeking through the tiny window of the door, you saw Keeho shrug. “I did. But I’m not holding my breath.”
“Why? They think you’re hot,” Beomgyu said.
You were so going to kill him. That little-
Keeho laughed and shook his head. “Nah, I’m doomed by the narrative.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Beomgyu asked. That was the man you recognised, defensive and immediately assuming intent to offend. You heard them walking towards the door and scrambled to hide behind the wall around the corner, holding your breath.
“Relax, man,” Keeho chuckled, opening the door. The two men walked right past you, not noticing you. “I’m just saying you should go for it.”
Beomgyu frowned. “What?”
“Yeah. No regrets, right?”
——————————
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Beomgyu was acting differently with you now. He was smiling more, joking around more. You were trying not to think about it too much — you didn’t know what it meant, and, more worryingly, you didn’t know what you wanted it to mean.
You two stayed late one Friday night to work on a presentation deck, being the only people left in the office by 8pm. You ordered kimbap and fried chicken and ate dinner together at his cubicle, balancing paper plates on your knees while he typed and you peered over his shoulder.
“This feels familiar,” Beomgyu mused, turning around to look at you. You must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights to him, because you instantly forgot whatever you were about to say when he smiled at you.
In university you had spent many a night in his apartment sitting beside him at his desk, watching him game with Heeseung (whom you only knew at that point as a disembodied voice that lived in Beomgyu’s headset). You were usually snacking on something and you’d feed him whatever it was while he was playing.
“So, did you say yes to Keeho?” Beomgyu asked, sounding flippant, but you could tell he’d been waiting for the right time to ask you that for a while.
“No, he- that’s weird,” you frowned, after you pushed the ground floor button and it failed to light up. Then, the entire lift rattled. “That’s weirder.”
He reached over your shoulder to push the button again, his hair brushing against the back of your neck. Once more, it didn’t light up. But you were worrying about other things, namely how broad his button up made his shoulders look and how good he smelt.
“Answer my question,” he pressed, all while repeatedly poking the button like an impatient toddler.
You would’ve laughed, if not for how close he was standing to you making it impossible for you to think straight. “We decided against it- are we actually stuck in here?”
It was silent for a few seconds as you looked at each other, confused. And then he began to panic.
“No, we can’t be,” he insisted, jabbing his finger at the lift button over and over so hard you thought he’d break his knuckle. His eyes were wide and his breathing was shallow and fast.
“Gyu-”
He cut you off with a loud wail and slapped his hands onto his head, throwing his back against the wall behind him and sliding down it dramatically. You bit back a laugh, the feeling of his body right by yours a second ago now a distant memory.
“We’re trapped! We’re gonna die!” he shrieked, his voice amplified by the tightness of the space you were in. The lift rattled once more.
You stifled a laugh. “Dude, chill.”
It had been nearly four years since your first date, but you still remembered it vividly. He’d brought you to a night carnival, and one of the first attractions on the itinerary was the haunted house. He confessed to you months after you started dating that it was all part of his grand plan to make you fall in love with him: that you would get scared and cling onto his bicep and he’d heroically protect you.
The actual experience went like this. You and him made it about a fifth of the way through the haunted house — with you taking the lead and him screaming bloody murder the entire time — before he tapped out and you turned back. Upon shamefully emerging from the haunted house’s entrance like a couple of quitter chickens, he sank to the floor with his head in his hands, exactly as he was right now. Of course now he was in a button up, tie, slacks, and dress shoes rather than a university sweatshirt and jeans, but the pose was nearly identical.
“I’m too young to die! But I’m too old to get on the news for dying young!” he babbled. Maybe he was delirious from the stress of the job. Ignoring the meltdown unfolding by your feet, you dialled the emergency number above the lift door and gave the man on the other end of the line your lift’s reference number.
“The maintenance guy will be here in a few minutes,” you relayed, hanging up the phone.
He took his head out of his hands and stopped screaming. “Oh. I might have overreacted.”
You laughed, joining him on the floor on the opposite side of the lift. “You think?”
It was silent for a while, save for a few odd creaks from the lift here and there. He had his legs stretched out in front of him and they looked about a billion miles long. You couldn’t really look at him too much without your heart feeling weird.
“Hey,” he started, kicking your shoe to get your attention. “What happened with Keeho?”
He was still on that.
“Nothing. We decided it wasn’t a good idea,” you answered, pausing for a moment to mull over whether you should admit to the conversation you had eavesdropped on last week. You choose to keep your mouth shut.
Beomgyu stayed silent for so long that you got over your refusal to make eye contact and looked up to see if something was wrong. He was frowning. The lift was so small and quiet you swore you could hear your own heartbeat echoing off the walls.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know? Us. How we ended,” he said, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “I was always shutting you down when you needed to be comforted. I even said you had too many issues.”
You winced at his last sentence, words that still stung nearly three years after he’d first uttered them to you. He must have seen it on your face, because he closed his eyes and looked away.
“Maybe we both met the right person at the wrong time,” you offered, trailing off as he silently got up from his spot opposite you and sat down next to you instead. If he moved even a millimetre closer, his shoulder would’ve touched yours. You held your breath and turned to him, your face so close to his that you could count his eyelashes.
“Yeah, maybe.” He held your gaze, unwavering.
The lift rattled even louder this time, but although you jumped he didn’t even flinch. Instead, his eyes drifted down to your lips. You used to rest your head on his shoulder when you two sat next to each other like this, whether it was on his sofa or at a restaurant. It was your ‘thing’.
He leaned in, and you found yourself drawn towards him. There was something magnetic about him that seemed to pull you forward, a compulsion of sorts. He used to taste like the pomegranate lip balm you kept in your pocket that he constantly nicked because he was too lazy to buy his own. You wondered if he’d bought one for himself after you split up. His nose brushed against yours and your eyes fluttered shut.
BANG!
You jumped apart, exchanging alarmed glances at the deafening metallic clang of the lift door.
“Maintenance! You guys okay in there?”
Beomgyu recovered from the shock before you did and sputtered out an, “All good!” But he was looking only at you. Beside him you were frozen, certain you could still feel the warmth of his breath on your face.
“Stand back from the doors!” the maintenance man continued.
You scrambled to your feet first, straightening your jacket and grabbing your bag. Your face felt like it was on fire. After (in your estimation) about a billion hours, the lift doors finally parted to reveal a beaming maintenance man.
“Thank you so much, sir. Have a good night,” you rushed out, mumbling a goodbye to Beomgyu without turning to look at him. He didn’t get a chance to return the pleasantry before you were gone.
——————————
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Neither of you spoke of the lift incident after that night. You acted like nothing had ever happened, and Beomgyu seemed more than happy to go along with your charade.
Your team lead had invited you both to tag along to a meeting with another company’s headquarters; neither of you had any direct involvement in the project, but he’d asked you to prepare a short presentation on your suggestions for the project anyway. It would be a good experience for you, hence why you agreed to it, but now you were starting to question your judgement.
“Are you nervous?” Beomgyu asked you under his breath as you walked down the corridor side by side to the conference room.
“Is it obvious?” you asked. Your thumb drive loaded with presentation slides was burning a hole in your pocket. Your palms were sweating, but you didn’t want to say that out loud. He’d just start rapping Eminem’s Lose Yourself at you and ruin your focus.
Truth be told, you didn’t really know why he was here — he wasn’t giving a presentation and had nothing to do with the project.
“It’s obvious to me,” he answered.
If you read into that even a little, you inferred he meant that he knew you better than other people did, that he saw more of you than they did. If you read into your own relief when he told you this morning he was coming for the meeting, you inferred having him with you made you feel more secure.
You needed to stop reading into things.
But how could you, when he checked where the air conditioning vents in the meeting room were the second he walked in so he could get you both seats far away from them, knowing you got cold easily? And how could you, when he swapped your chair with his own on instinct to give you the one without any broken wheels?
After the meeting ended, you took the train back home with him. It was a two hour ride.
“You did great,” he praised, leading the way to an empty train carriage. As he walked, he slipped his fingers under his navy blue tie, loosening the knot and popping open the top button of his shirt. You tried not to stare.
“Thanks.” You sat down in the window seat, and he took the one beside you. His shoulder touched yours. Were train seats always this narrow?
There was a part of you that wished Ryujin were here to knock some sense into you and/or crush your delusions before they became too well fleshed out, but she was starting to warm to Beomgyu more and more these days. She was even encouraging you to talk to him. Ryujin? Encouraging you to talk to Beomgyu? Maybe you’d fallen into the matrix.
——————————
“I’m on my way home. How was work?”
You hadn’t dreamt about Beomgyu in a long time, but your dreamscape’s recreation of his voice still remained accurate. Warm and melodic, with a smooth lilt that made anything he said sound poetic.
“It was alright. Are you with Y/N?”
Heeseung’s voice. Hm. Dreaming about Heeseung was weird, but not entirely out of the question. You’d gotten to know him pretty well-
“Shh, man. They’re sleeping right beside me.”
At that, you finally woke up. Your head was resting on Beomgyu’s shoulder instead of the window pane, somehow having found its way to him while you were asleep. Perhaps he’d shifted you there himself, like he used to do whenever you dozed off on the wall of yours and his favourite study booth in the back of the university library.
He didn’t notice you were awake. You kept your eyes shut and remained perfectly still.
“Have you guys talked?” Heeseung asked on the other end of the phone.
“No. What am I supposed to say? Sorry I almost kissed you, I think I’m still in love with you?” Beomgyu said quietly.
“Yeah. Literally.”
“I can’t do that, man.”
“Why not? The universe gave you a second chance. No regrets, right?”
Beomgyu was silent for a few seconds.
“Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”
He hung up without giving Heeseung a chance to reply, and you felt him shifting around as he slipped his phone into his pocket.
Still. Not that he fell in love with you again, but that he never stopped. He was still in love with you.
His hair brushed the side of your face when he turned to you and called your name softly.
“Y/N, wake up.”
You’d never been a particularly good actor, but you pretended to wake up as best as you could and hoped he didn’t see through you.
“Look,” he said quietly, even though there was no one else around, pointing out the window.
The sun was just beginning to set, glowing a brilliant warm orange and glazing the clouds around it in red and yellow. Pink streaks spanned across the sky and through the window into the train carriage.
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.
When you turned back around, Beomgyu was watching you instead of the sunset. He looked away immediately, clearing his throat and shifting around in his seat. You wondered if he was thinking of the same thing you were.
“Sorry I woke you. I didn’t want you to miss the sunset,” he mumbled. His hands sat folded awkwardly in his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them.
Still. Still?
You could count on one hand the number of times in your life you’d been well and truly speechless; this was one of them.
He seemed to mistake your silence for something else — you didn’t know what — because he turned away and dropped his gaze apologetically.
“Hey, about the other day,” he said, trailing off, “I’m sorry I made things weird.”
You weren’t going to lose him again. You’d had enough heartbreak.
“You didn’t,” you rushed out, placing your hand over his. The movement was sudden and uncoordinated, an impulsive lunge forward rather than a measured and gentle reach. “I wish I hadn’t run away like that.”
Beomgyu’s eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly in shock. You didn’t know if your words or your actions had caused that.
“Really?” His voice was all breath and no depth.
The melting light of the sunset behind you poured into the train carriage through the window, lying across his face in ribbons of gold that made his skin glow. The hue was almost indescribable, the type of colour only found during sunsets, and the colour you associated only with Choi Beomgyu.
His fingers curled up to lace themselves with yours, and you felt a coldness on your skin that gave you a jolt. It was a ring. Plain, thin, silver.
You bought him matching rings for your six month anniversary, thick patterned silver ones with intricate carvings and twisted rope trimmings. They were cheap costume jewellery — you lost your job around then and that was all you could afford — and they stained your fingers green after a few days.
You gave up and wore your ring on a chain around your neck instead, but he wore his on his index finger every day, all the way to the end. You used to call him 1% Shrek.
He squeezed your hand.
Now or never.
“I don’t want to… I don’t think I can pretend I’m not in love with you anymore,” you admitted, your heart battering against your rib cage like it was trying to burst out of your chest.
Beomgyu’s grip on your hand tightened. “Me neither,” he whispered.
You looked at him, at the softness in his brown eyes and the gentle slope of his nose. He had made all the first moves in the past. He asked you out on the first date, he initiated your first kiss, he introduced you to his friends and family first. You were done with waiting for him to lead the way.
“Can I kiss you?” you asked.
All his nerves appeared to melt away. He grinned cockily, the exact same grin he donned right before he was about to do something annoying.
“Kissing on public transport is so passé,” he said with a dramatic sigh, even though you were the only people on the train. “We aren’t horny students anymore, we’re grown adults with serious jobs-”
“There’s a juice box sticking out of your bag,” you pointed out, suppressing a laugh.
He moved towards you, his free hand coming up to rest on your cheek. Like your muscles had held onto the memory of his touch all these years, you leant into the familiar warmth of his palm.
“You make a compelling argument,” he muttered, before bringing his lips to yours.
Peppermint. He used peppermint lip balm now.
When was the last time you’d kissed? You couldn’t remember. But you remembered how it felt — the way his lips slotted perfectly between yours, his curve of his hand on your face, the angle of his shoulder exactly where you always held onto him.
When you separated, he pressed a final quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. That was his trademark; he never kissed you without doing that.
“I can’t believe you came back to me,” he said. The diffuse amber of the sunset glazed over his face, making his eyes sparkle. Something about the way he looked at you slowed your heart rate, made you feel sedated.
You ran your thumb over the ring on his index finger, now warmed from the heat of your locked hands.
“Always.”
——————————
thanks for reading!
-minastras <3
278 notes · View notes
candycandy00 · 8 months
Text
Little Miss Nobody Part 1 - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic
You’re a weak, lowly sorcerer who barely qualifies as an assistant, but you get the opportunity to work on a mission that includes THE Gojo Satoru. Unbeknownst to you, he finds you incredibly attractive despite privately looking down on you as a nobody. On the last night of the mission, he invites you to his hotel room.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Smut. 18+. Gojo x short/thick/curvy fem Reader. Loss of virginity, rough sex, oral sex, etc. Gojo is unintentionally an asshole.
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You couldn’t contain your excitement when you were chosen, along with five others, to be assistants on a two week long mission that involved THE Gojo Satoru. You never thought you’d get to work with him. After all, you were a weak, low grade sorcerer who came from a non-sorcerer family. But someone needed to run errands, take notes, and basically act as a gopher. You were eager to take on that role if it meant you got to be near Gojo, if only to watch him work. 
Three years ago, when you were still a third year at your tiny local Jujutsu school, you had technically met him. You and a few other third years had been sent on what was supposed to be a very easy mission. Things went south quickly when a special grade curse appeared, and all you and your classmates could do was flee and hide. Gojo had apparently been in the area at the time on unrelated business and was called over to bail your group out. 
You still remembered how cool he looked as he destroyed the curse with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Then he called the lot of you out from hiding and told you it was safe. He’d been friendly enough, but he didn’t stay to chat. Someone like him was probably busy. 
You couldn’t be sure because of his blindfold, but you thought he never even looked your direction. 
Of course he didn’t. 
Now, you worked mostly as an assistant to other, more powerful sorcerers. But you didn’t mind. You were happy that you could contribute, even in small ways. 
When you arrived at the meeting place to get acquainted with the sorcerers you’d be working with and go over the plan of action over the next two weeks, you tried not to stare at Gojo. He was so much taller than you remembered, and up close, his presence was imposing. He joked around with everyone and acted casual, but you could feel it: his intimidating aura. 
It was your first time seeing him without his blindfold, but his sunglasses prevented you from seeing his eyes. What a shame, you’d heard they were breathtaking. 
You introduced yourself and said the expected pleasantries, and you giggled at his jokes, but that was as far as your courage could take you. For the rest of the meeting, you tried to stay quiet and stay out of the way. 
************
Gojo Satoru noticed her the moment she showed up for the meeting. How could he not? Even under fairly modest clothing, her incredibly erotic body shape was evident. Large, shapely breasts straining against her sweater, thick, plush hips and thighs that looked like they’d been poured into her jeans, plump lips that he couldn’t help imagining wrapped around his cock, all wrapped up in a short frame that could so easily be thrown around in bed. 
She was his type. So much so that it seemed like she’d been designed top to bottom by the gods to drive him wild. But he never let on. He talked to her the same way he talked to everyone else, and his dark sunglasses kept her from noticing how he stared at her curves. 
As the mission commenced, Gojo found himself going to talk to her often, even though she was a weak, practically useless nobody. She was a sweet little thing though, always trying to be helpful in whatever ways her extremely limited abilities would allow. She even made homemade sweets in the kitchen of the condo they’d rented to be their base of operations. Her confections were delicious, and Gojo definitely noticed how much she blushed when he told her so. 
He noticed a lot of things, like the way her eyes seemed to seek him out whenever the group was gathered in one place, the way she stared at him with rosy cheeks when she thought he wasn’t looking, the way she seemed to talk with a bubbly smile with the others but became quiet and shy when he was near. 
Gojo knew he was a very attractive man. He’d seen these signs before, many times. This sweet girl with the lewd body that had him jacking off in the shower while thinking about her… she had a crush on him. 
He had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it meant getting her into his bed would be no challenge at all. Hell, he probably could have fucked her on the first night if he’d tried. But on the other hand, it was a nuisance when someone lowly like her developed feelings for him. He always tried to let them down gently, to avoid breaking their hearts, but that was much harder to do after he’d fucked their brains out. 
Gojo wasn’t a cruel man. He never made promises, and he never intentionally led anyone on. In fact he tried to be very clear about what he wanted and sometimes avoided sleeping with people who had obvious crushes on him altogether, just to avoid drama. But sometimes the person in question was hot, and he couldn’t resist. And often, even though he felt he was being upfront about only wanting a one night stand, people who had developed feelings for him had a hard time accepting that truth. 
He watched the young woman, whom he’d mentally dubbed “Little Miss Nobody”, as she bent over to get some clean dishes from the condo’s dishwasher. She was wearing a skirt that fell to a modest length when she was standing, but bent over, her soft thighs were exposed. Her perfectly round, thick ass was in the air. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her. 
She stood back up and began placing the dishes in the cabinets. She stood on her tip toes and reached up to try to place something in the top shelf, and both her skirt and T-shirt rode up her body. She was clearly struggling, her short height making the task difficult. Gojo enjoyed the view for a moment from the living room, then walked into the kitchen and stood behind her. “Need some help?”
The poor girl almost jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice so close to her. She blushed and pulled her shirt back down. “Uh, yeah, I’m having trouble reaching the top cabinet.”
He moved in closer, his body brushing against hers as he reached around her and placed the cups in their cabinet. Fuck, he wanted to lift her up and shove her face down on the counter, letting her short legs dangle in the air as he pounded into her from behind. She’d probably let him right now, even with the others in the living room, able to see the whole thing. Her face was red, she was so flustered it was adorable. 
That’s when he decided, after the mission was over, on their last night in town, he would invite her to his hotel room and fuck her as much as he wanted. 
When the last night arrived, everyone had gathered at a sushi joint to celebrate the successful end to the mission. Gojo made a point of sitting next to Little Miss Nobody, making sure his arm brushed against hers whenever he reached for something on the table, making funny remarks to hear her tinkling little laugh, and enjoying the shy, nervous energy she had. 
As everyone stood up from the table, Gojo placed one hand on her shoulder to get her attention, then leaned in to whisper, “Wanna come to my hotel room?”
She looked shocked, her face turning instantly crimson. Her eyes darted about frantically, and she reminded him of a frightened rabbit. “Um… I guess so…” 
He laughed, slipping an arm around her casually. “Don’t be so nervous. Let’s have a night of fun before we leave town.”
She nodded, wearing a small, sweet smile. “Okay,” she said, and she walked out the door with him and up the street to his hotel. 
Having her body pressed against his as they walked was getting him amped up. He was already hard by the time they stepped into his room and shut the door behind them. 
Gojo wasted no time turning her around and pushing her against the inside of the door, covering her hot little mouth with his own, kissing her deeply, his hands on the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. 
He was so wrapped up in trying to get her shirt off, he almost didn’t notice the weak hands pressing against his chest, trying to push him back. She might as well have been trying to push a boulder. 
But he stopped and looked down at her. “Is something wrong?”
She looked like she might cry, and for a moment the terrible thought that he’d been entirely wrong about her struck his mind. But she was still blushing furiously, and her eyes were full of desire. 
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said, and he felt immense relief, “but… I think I should tell you… I’ve never done this before.”
He cocked his head and grinned. “Never fucked a guy in a hotel room?”
She shook her head. “Never… been with a guy at all.”
His grin vanished. “Wait, you’re a virgin?”
She nodded, averting her eyes. 
Fuck. She was a virgin. He hadn’t expected that. Sure she was a little shy but with a body like hers, she had to have been turning men down left and right. And while he couldn’t deny that being the guy to pop such a sexy girl’s cherry was hot to think about, there were other things to consider. Deflowering someone usually came with emotional baggage he just didn’t want to deal with. 
He knew he should just call the whole thing off. Tell her it was a mistake, make up a lie, anything. But she was here, inside his hotel room, ready and willing to let him fuck her. She was looking at him with glassy eyes, her lips slightly parted, her shirt pulled up to just under her tits. 
He wanted her. He’d imagined doing countless filthy things to her these past two weeks, and now he had her all to himself. How could he possibly resist?
************
You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go to Gojo’s hotel room. Even as naive as you were, you could figure out that much. You’d been so shocked and flattered that you hadn’t even considered saying no. THE Gojo Satoru wanted you? A weak, useless little peon? 
He’d been nice to you throughout the whole mission, talking to you, including you in strategy meetings even though you had nothing to do with strategy, giving you praise for completing even simple tasks. But he was friendly with everyone. He laughed and talked with everyone. 
Now you were in his hotel room. He’d kissed you, touched you, and you knew where this was going. The thought of losing your virginity to Gojo was thrilling, but also a little scary. Would your inexperience be a turn off? He’d seemed a little hesitant when you told him this was your first time. 
But soon he was kissing you again, his hands pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside. He stepped back slightly to look at your lacy bra, but before he could reach around to unhook it, you stopped him again. 
“Can I see your eyes?” you asked, looking up into his sunglasses. “Please?”
He smiled, then reached up one hand and pulled the sunglasses off, letting them drop to the floor. You couldn’t suppress a gasp when you saw his eyes for the first time. They were so unbelievably gorgeous, like pure blue crystals. You wanted to look at them all night. 
“You like them?” he asked with a grin. 
“I do,” you answered. “They’re so beautiful…”
He shrugged. “Some people say they’re creepy.”
If you were being honest, they were a little creepy, but in a “so beautiful they’re inhuman” way. 
Gojo started kissing you again, leaning over to kiss your neck as he unhooked your bra and pulled the straps down your shoulders, finally discarding it on the floor. Then his hands were groping both breasts, lightly squeezing the pillowy flesh. He bent further down, trailing kisses down your collar bone until his mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue running over it. 
“Ahh!” You couldn’t help letting out a small moan as he licked one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. 
He slid down to a crouching position in front of you. The metal door felt cold against your bare back as you reflexively backed into it. You watched with bated breath as he unzipped your skirt. Then he looked up at you with those eyes as he slowly pulled your skirt down your hips, your thighs, your calves, and then let it pool at your feet. He only took a moment to look at your pale pink panties before he pulled those down too, then he leaned back to get a good view. 
You closed your eyes. You’d always been a little self conscious about your body, but having this incredibly good looking man stare at your naked body made you feel like shrinking into a ball and hiding. 
But then you heard his voice. 
“Fuck, you’re even hotter than I imagined.”
You opened your eyes. “Really?”
He was wearing a sultry expression, leaned back on his heels with his thighs apart. That’s when you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants. He tilted his head toward your face and said, “Do you not realize how sexy you are? You had me wound up for two weeks. I spent half the time imagining…” His voice cut off. Perhaps he thought it best not to continue, but now you were curious. 
“What were you imagining?”
He rose to his feet, and his tall frame towered over yours as he stepped closer. “All kinds of things. Fucking you on the couch at the condo. Bending you over the kitchen table. My cock in your mouth…”
Your breaths were coming quicker as you listened. You had no idea he’d been thinking such things about you, but knowing it now made your whole body tingle. 
“Think you can do that for me?” he murmured against your neck as he began kissing you again. “Suck my dick with that cute mouth of yours?”
Your heart was pounding. You wanted nothing more than to please him, to be with him as long as you could. “I can try,” you said with a shaky voice. 
He pulled away then and took you by the hand, leading you over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of it, and gently pushed you to your knees in front of him, between his spread legs. You looked from his crotch to his face, waiting for him to open his pants. Instead he yawned dramatically and said, “I’m just so tired from the mission. Can’t even get my own dick out. You can do that for me, right?” Then he grinned at you. 
You couldn’t help smiling. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood so you wouldn’t be so nervous. You reached out and unbuckled his belt, then carefully unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. You hesitated for a moment, then you slipped the waistband of his boxers down until his cock bounced free. 
You’d never seen one in person before, but even you knew it was an impressive organ. It was much bigger than you expected, tall and pale, standing straight up. It was perfect, just like the rest of him. 
With one hand, you lightly gripped him and leaned forward, giving it a quick, feathery lick. You’d seen porn before, so you had an idea of what to do, but you still felt a little awkward. 
“Take it in your mouth,” Gojo said in a soft voice. And you did as told. You wrapped your lips around his cock and took it as far into your mouth as it would fit, gagging slightly as it hit the back of your throat. 
“That’s good,” he said, his hand resting on your head, his fingers entwining with your hair, “now slide your lips up and down it. Use your tongue, that’s it.”
With Gojo’s coaching, you seemed to be doing a decent job of performing your first blowjob. He certainly seemed to be enjoying it, as his cock was twitching and leaking in your mouth as your tongue circled it and your lips closed tightly around it. You kept this up for several minutes, following any instructions he gave, and finally you felt him grow suddenly tense. 
Without any other warning, he came in your mouth, shooting it down your throat and coating your tongue. You didn’t know if you should pull away, so you remained still until he emptied himself out. When he was finished, you backed up, and realized you had a mouth full of his cum. Guys liked it when girls swallowed it, right? So you gulped it down and looked up at Gojo to see his reaction. 
He was staring at your face, smiling. “Now that’s something I’ve been waiting to see,” he said, then patted your head. “Good girl.”
You blushed bright red upon hearing his praise. You made Gojo Satoru feel good! A nobody like you! 
He took your hand again and pulled you up, then pushed you onto the bed, on your back. He climbed onto the bed and pushed your legs apart. 
“Wait,” you said, and he froze, meeting your eyes. You worked up your courage and said, “Are you going to take your shirt off?”
He laughed, raising up to his knees. “You want me to?”
“Yes, please!” Your voice came out more desperate than you intended, and you felt embarrassed until he pulled his shirt up his torso and then over his head. At that moment, all thoughts in your head froze. All you could focus on was his toned body. It looked like it’d been carved from stone, like the statues of angels you’d seen pictures of from museums in Europe. 
Maybe he really was a god. 
He bent back down between your spread open legs and used his thumb to stroke your slit, smearing your wetness around. Then his long fingers parted your folds and he leaned his face forward, running his tongue across your clit. You nearly jumped from the bed. The pleasure that shot through you left you gasping, but he didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He dove back in, using both his fingers and his mouth to stimulate your clit, switching between different motions, keeping you from getting too used to a specific sensation. 
Your body quivered, your hands gripping the sheets, little mewling moans escaping your lips. Unlike you with your clumsy blowjob, Gojo knew exactly what he was doing. You tried not to think about what that meant. 
The pleasure built up, over and over, making you feel like you might burst. Finally, like a dam breaking, you felt delicious release, your legs trembling on either side of him as you rode out the high. 
He looked up at you, his lips glistening with your juices and his eyes shining. “Feel good?” he asked. 
You could only nod, words failing you. 
He rose up again, this time pushing your knees up to your chest and placing your legs on his shoulders, nearly folding you in half. You could feel his tip poking at you. He leaned down close and said, “Ready?”
“Yeah,” you said in a small, unsteady voice, “I think so.”
He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and then he was pressing himself inside you. It hurt more than you thought it would, a stinging sensation shooting through you, as if you were ripping. You whimpered, closing your eyes again. 
You heard his voice saying, “Fuck, you’re tight.” Then he pressed further in. You clutched at his arms, and he paused. “Hey, look at me.”
You opened your eyes. 
“Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head, murmuring, “No, I don’t.”
He grinned. “Good. I’m only halfway in. You can take more of me, right?”
You nodded. You weren’t sure how more was going to fit, but you didn’t want this to end. You wanted to please him. 
He kissed your neck, mumbling against your skin, “I bet you can take all of me.”
“Y-yeah,” you said, still clutching his arms. 
“Good girl,” he whispered, then thrusted into you. You winced, feeling like he was splitting you in two, but there were so many other things that felt good. His perfectly sculpted body against yours, the tips of his soft white hair grazing your face and neck when he kissed you, and those angelic eyes looking down at you. 
You thought you would have agreed to letting him cut off your arm. 
He plunged in so deep, you imagined he was reaching your womb, his thrusts becoming faster, rougher. “Fuck,” he muttered, “you feel fucking incredible!”
Suddenly his hands were on your waist, gripping you hard, his hips banging into yours, his thrusting becoming painful. You looked up at him in alarm, only to find a wild look in those beautiful eyes, as if he were possessed, as if he’d lost himself in the pleasure of fucking you as hard as he could. 
You didn’t ask him to stop. You couldn’t bring yourself to, not when he seemed to be enjoying it so much. You simply let him do whatever he wanted with you, even if it hurt. When tears stung your eyes, you tried to wipe them away quickly. 
Deep down, a small part of you liked it, liked the pain, liked the way your body was making Gojo lose control. And that part of you wanted him to fuck you forever. 
************
Gojo knew he should have been gentle with her. It was her first time and he was fucking her like a whore. But something about being inside her turned him into an animal. Even seeing her crying couldn’t make him slow down. The only thing that could have stopped him was her literally telling him to stop, and he didn’t think that was going to happen. 
Because despite her tears and whimpers, her pussy was soaked, clenching him tightly, and her eyes were lusty as they peered up at him. 
He hadn’t bothered with a condom, figuring he would just pull out. But now he was overcome with the desire to fill her with his cum. So when he felt his own orgasm approaching, he drove himself as deeply within her as possible and shot his load. 
Panting, he slowly pulled out of her. His cock was sticky with cum and blood. When he looked down at her face, he realized her eyes were closed and she was breathing quietly. Had she passed out? Shit. Maybe he had been too rough with her. 
He decided to let her sleep while he took a shower and dressed. When finished, he nudged her awake. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around the room as if she couldn’t remember where she was. Then her eyes met his and she sat up suddenly, pulling the sheets up to cover herself. 
“It’s late,” Gojo told her, “you better let me walk you to your hotel.”
The assistants were staying at a different hotel down the street, closer to the condo. She blinked a few times, then slid out of bed, pulling a sheet with her. He took the hint and turned around while she dressed, thinking it a bit silly after what had just happened. 
He turned back to face her after he heard her pulling her shoes on. She was looking down shyly, avoiding his gaze. “Um, I had a good time tonight,” she said. 
“Good,” he said with his usual smile, “I’m glad you did.”
She lingered beside the bed, not moving toward the door. “Would you… like to have my phone number? In case you ever want to chat sometime…”
Ah, shit. She was getting attached. He’d hoped this wouldn’t happen. She was a nice enough girl and hot as fuck, but she wasn’t the kind of person he could start a relationship with. She was a mere assistant. They were important and he appreciated their work, but as head of the Gojo clan, there were certain expectations about who he should be with. And a girl with so little cursed energy she barely qualified as a an assistant at all was never going to be that person. 
He sighed. Best to just go ahead and rip the bandaid off than to let her get her hopes up. 
“Look, this was just a one time thing,” he said, keeping his voice even and flat. “A night of fun, remember? Nothing more.” He could see the hurt forming in her eyes, but he had to go on. It was for her own good. “You’re real sweet and all, but you and I… we’re just not compatible. Do you understand?”
She looked at him with her bright eyes turning wet. “I get it,” she said, her voice breaking slightly on the words. “I knew this was just a one night stand. Really, I did. But I just thought… maybe we could be friends.” She wiped her eyes as the first tears began to fall. “I’m sorry, that was really stupid of me. Someone like me could never be around someone like you.”
Before he could say anything in response, she ran out the door, not even closing it behind her. 
“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling every bit the asshole so many people accused him of being. He walked over and shut the door, then glanced at the floor, where something shimmery caught his eye. It was one of her earrings. He picked it up and shoved it into his pocket. He moved over to the bed, trying to avoid looking at the red stain in the middle, and picked up the sheet she’d wrapped herself in. It smelled like her, a sweet and bright fragrance. 
He flung the sheet down, shaking his head as if that would somehow shake her presence from his mind. He’d done the right thing, even if it hurt her. She’d get over it. Before long, he would just be a bad memory to her. Hopefully, she would eventually be reduced to a sweet memory for him. 
Tag List:
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yurislotusgarden · 5 months
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TEACHER/PROFESSOR!DAZAI HC'S
ʚїɞ There are hc's just about teacher Dazai but also some including reader so-
ʚїɞ Dazai x reader
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ word count: 845
ʚїɞ My current ongoing Christmas event
ʚїɞ Part 2
ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just some regular fluff and stuff
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ཐིཋྀ The teacher that all students love
ཐིཋྀ Whatever he would be teaching, no one would mind the subject because he manages to make anything interesting
ཐིཋྀ Speaking of, depending on what institute he teaches at, his subject would differ
ཐིཋྀ If he was in middle/high school he would probably be an English teacher (yes he would be the one to tell the class to read books in English but no one would complain because he’d choose interesting ones)
ཐིཋྀ I feel like he would be a professor at a university more though, he’s giving the vibes of a literature teacher, I would say (still could be the English professor ngl but I think only if there was no free spot for a literature one)
(Yes I know many people who write teacher!Dazai make him a literature prof but it just fits this man)
ཐིཋྀ Let's go with the university professor because I have more ideas for that
ཐིཋྀ There’s only 2 options for cheating
ཐིཋྀ There's absolutely no way you're cheating in his class if he doesn’t let you, probably will allow it ONLY if he likes you though💀
ཐིཋྀ Or he would be one of the teachers who would turn a blind eye to it if he sees that you need a better grade at the moment (if you're cheating while having good grades then that's a no-no)
ཐིཋྀ I picture him wearing black gloves, but I'm blaming it on the Beast novel where he has them
ཐིཋྀ Fucker almost never sits in the actual chair when one would expect him to do it (like when students are writing a test)
ཐིཋྀ He just straight up sits on the edge of his desk or on top and does his stuff in silence
ཐིཋྀ While teaching he either sits on the edge of the desk or walks around a little
ཐིཋྀ Cracks jokes all the time and people always laugh at them or at least smile because he knows when to say them and what kind fits the moment
ཐིཋྀ His students would accidentally find out that he has a drawer with sweets (he sometimes uses it for bribery, for example ‘you turn your work in on time = a candy for you’ when he assigns a hard project, it works)
ཐིཋྀ If Chuuya teaches at the same place then no one is escaping their bickering, the students actually made a bet on how long it would take before Chuuya hits Dazai for one of his insults
ཐིཋྀ There was also another bet that came about after the previous one
ཐིཋྀ At first, students were curious if Dazai was taken because 'how would someone like that not be in a relationship guys, he has to!'
ཐིཋྀ Little did they know some other professor heard it and told Dazai about it so he gave subtle hints but not clear enough, confusing people even more
ཐིཋྀ Going back to the gloves part, he once had to take them off because ‘they got dirty’ right before a break, revealing a ring on his left hand, causing the class at the time to erupt in chaos
ཐིཋྀ “Oh, I forgot to tell you all that I'm married? My bad, guys!” -he said right before he slipped out of the class for his lunch break
ཐིཋྀ The whole school knew he was married the very same day 
ཐིཋྀ Then came the other bet, ‘Who is he married to?’
ཐིཋྀ Some students proposed other professors, others said that it could be someone whom they had never seen, and someone else thought it might be a joke from Dazai's side because he found out about the previous bet
ཐིཋྀ They knew it was real when Chuuya of all people confirmed it 
“Sir I have a question, it's unrelated to the lesson though”
“Don't worry about it, what is the question?”
“Is it true that Professor Dazai is married?”
“Yeah, why?”
“HAH?!”
ཐིཋྀ Yeah he also confirmed it was someone they most likely hadn’t met as the brunet’s spouse works somewhere else/stays at home
ཐིཋྀ They would meet you because you either came to Dazai's classroom because mf forgot his lunch or a few of his students came to the room in the middle of a break, and you were there for some reason (in the 2nd option they probably asked you to come to class once so the class can meet you. They adore you either way)
ཐིཋྀ When it comes to you, Dazai is probably so goddamn soft that if any of his students saw him, they would think it's someone else trying to impersonate him
ཐིཋྀ You make him bentos and stuff and he never fails to eat them <3
ཐིཋྀ He appreciates it so goddamn much when you help him when he has a lot of stuff to grade at once because he procrastinated it 
ཐིཋྀ It can be making sure he isn't dehydrated, doesn't forget to eat or sleep, or even help in grading anything 
ཐིཋྀ Give him those forehead kisses after a long day, don't be shy, I dare you he’s so weak for them
ཐིཋྀ I recommend running your fingers through his hair while he's lying down on top of you or on your lap, he will melt
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Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated
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darkwolf989 · 18 days
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Can I request a girl dad Vox where his teenage daughter is going through her emo phase. at the same time going through puberty, and she's just at that stage where she's like "I hate you all" and it really hurts Vox because she's always been her little girl and maybe it ends with them making up and just being goofy like watching her favorite movies. Like super daddy's girl esk until then and his world just stops when she starts pulling away. I LOVE GIRL DAD VOX.
This was such a fun request! Thanks for sending!! <3
The attitude shift came overnight. Vox couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his daughter changed her nail polish from pink to black, or when she started to wear only the black pieces from her wardrobe. But he could absolutely remember the first time she snapped at him over a simple question. As she left the breakfast table and slammed the door shut behind her, Vox looked to Valentino and Velvette for guidance. 
“She’s growing up,” Velvette said through sips of her coffee. “Just be patient. Let her come to you and give her space.”
And so, Vox tried. I mean, honestly, he really did try. He let every snarky response, every too loud blast of music pass. Hell, the morning she woke up and poured herself a cup of coffee he almost blew a gasket. She was sixteen, she didn’t need coffee, he started to say, but Valentino cut him off and guided reader back to the kitchen. 
“Cream and sugar, little princessa, will help you get used to the taste,” Valentino said gently. 
Vox heard her mutter something he couldn’t quite make out but her tone certainly sounded rude. He stood up to scold her but Velvette grabbed his hand. 
“Pick your battles, Vox. This isn’t it.” Velvette said. “It’s only a phase.”
And so he gave her as much freedom as he felt he could while still being an active, involved parent. He kept on top of her grades and gave her the space she demanded and he thought for sure that respecting her privacy would get at least an “I love you Daddy,” on occasion. The most he got from her was a slightly less intense look of disdain every time he asked a question or a task of her. It seemed to him Daddy’s Little Girl was no longer. 
The hair dye was the final straw. Pretty brunette turned box dye black in a matter of hours. A bathroom splattered with splotches of black and a sink stained so badly Vox was sure it would never come out. Her beautiful brunette hair was now an odd shade of gray. He felt his anger grow as he saw the remnants of her activities and with a yell, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her downstairs to Velvelettes studio. 
“Where did you even get this?” Vox asked in frustration as he watched Velvette’s assistant try to scrub the stains from behind her ears. “And why? You had such pretty hair!”
“Why does it matter?” She snapped. “I can do what I want with my body. You can’t stop me.”
“I never said you couldn’t! But you have an entire salon two floors below your bedroom, why didn’t you just say something?” He asked in exasperation as Velvette walked over. 
“Because it’s my body! I just wanted to do something on my own for once without everything questioning me!” She screamed. 
And then she burst into tears. Vox could feel his heart breaking at the sound and pushed the assistant away as he pulled her into his arms. He expected her to push him away, but instead she leaned into his shoulder and cried.
“And now I’m ugly, and my hair sucks and I just, I just…” she let out a hiccuping sob. 
Vox recognized that noise. Even in her teenage years, that cry hadn’t changed. He pressed his hand to the back of her head gently, ignoring the leftover streaks of dye that stained his hands. 
“Hey, hey baby girl. It’s alright, Auntie Vel will get your hair fixed up,” he said as soothingly as he could. 
Velvette glanced up from behind the counter and took her place behind the chair. She gave Vox an encouraging look. 
Vox took a deep breath. Pick my battles, he thought to himself as he held his not so little girl anymore. 
“And I’m sure she’ll dye it black if that’s what you really want,” he conceded finally. 
Another sniffle from the face tucked into his shoulder. 
“Really, you’d let me do that?” She asked as she leaned back and rubbed at her eyes. 
“Only if you promise never to use box dye again,” he replied lightly. “The bathroom is a mess. We might have to repaint the entire thing.” 
She let out a ghost of a smile and he gently dabbed her eyes.
 “There there. No more tears. It’s okay.”
“Daddy? Can I ask you something?” She asked as Velvette quietly took her place behind the chair and began to work her way through the half brunette streaks of hair. 
“Anything, sweetheart.”
“Can…can we redo my room? I don’t want it pink anymore.” She said softly. “Please don’t be mad.”
He could feel his heart breaking for the second time that day, this time for an entirely different reason. She thought he would be mad at her? He tried to think back to when she would get that idea and quickly concluded now wasn’t the best time to analyze his own behavior. Not when he had those pretty blue eyes watching him, waiting desperately for a response. 
“Sure baby girl,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead. “How about we get your hair fixed up and then you and I can do some shopping and redesign the whole thing together tonight? How’s that sound?” 
Her eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! Thank you, Dad!” She stood up from the chair threw her arms around him. 
Velvette gave Vox an approving smile.
“Alright then you two, let's get to work so you guys can go have some fun!” She said cheerfully. 
A few hours later, Vox watched as reader admired her reflection in the mirror. Somewhere, it pained him that she wanted to run so far in the opposite direction. He wondered what he had done to lose her trust.
“Don’t take it personally,” Velvette said softly to Vox as he watched reader run her fingers through her hair. “She’s just trying to find her place in the world.”
“What do I do about the bedroom? I can’t have it all black, it would look awful.” He replied, “but unless I give in…”
“Boundaries, Vox. It’s a reasonable give and take. Sure, painting her entire room back would look awful. And It’s okay to hold an expectation and come to a compromise. Some part of her still wants to know you care about her. She’s just testing her limits. All teenagers do.” Velvette added. “But I would start with designing together on one of you computers and go from there.”
Several hours, zero tears and one phone in pizza order later, Vox and reader sat on the couch. For the first time in a long time, reader was in hysterics as they watched her favorite movie together.
“Hey, Dad?” She asked once she collected herself enough to speak. “I love you.”
Vox tried to keep his cool, but his heart soared. “Love you too,” he replied. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your dad.”
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right side of my neck - lip gallagher x fem!reader
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warning: angst and fluff, yearning, cheating??? (just kissing) exes who always find their back to each other, allusions to sex, groping
disclaimer: i do not own any characters mentioned in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim any of my work as your own.
a/n: i’ve been posting super frequently, my bad y’all. based off the song, right side of my neck by faye webster, takes place during season 3 (mandy, don’t run me over pls), comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!! 🩷🎀
summary: you and lip gallagher had a tumultuous history. while you were ian’s best friend, a relationship (if you can consider it that) with the older gallagher brother was the last thing you expected. you two stop seeing each other when not long after, he starts dating mandy milkovich. after they get into a fight, he’s at your doorstep, needing a place to stay and wanting to talk things out.
here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸
masterlist
italics and bold: the past
unedited: present day
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“The right side of my neck still smells like you”
you were unwinding from the day, deciding to do your nightly reading in the living room. your parents were both at work so you had the house to yourself for the evening. your cat, persimmon, was curled up in your lap as you were lost in your book until a knock brought you back into reality.
you gently set persimmon to the side as you got up from the couch and walking over to the door. you opened the door carefully and to your surprise, lip gallagher was standing there. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and sigh, “look, lip, i really don’t want to argue at this time of night.” the “relationship” you had with the older gallagher brother was questionable at best in the most recent years.
you were born on the south side, meeting ian in kindergarten and being attached at the hip since. so whenever you and ian hung out together, lip was there. you basically became one of the family as you grew up along side of them as both of your parents worked all of the time. as the three of you got older, puberty and rising teen angst became a threshold.
with high school, financial struggles and inadequate situation ships piling one on top of another, you found yourself in the arms of the older gallagher after being stood up on date and you happened to bump into him in midst of taking the l home, offering a joint and his company to help cope with the shitty night.
while you two talked about what happened as well as his past with karen as you smoked the joint he had as well as few bowls from the bong and weed you stole from one of your past hookups, he sets his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. you quickly straddled his lap, giving him a passionate kiss, starting an ongoing on and off and not so secretive situation-ship.
it was supposed only an outlet of releasing stress and escaping from reality for a bit. as you two continued to hook up, your feelings inevitably became a barrier and a burden for him to carry. you decided to express how you feel and not to your surprise, he didn’t take it well, resulting in an argument and him deciding that he didn’t want to continue leading you on towards something he wasn’t capable of giving to you.
not long after you two stop seeing each other, he soon starts dating mandy milkovich, another girl that is in the same grade as you and ian. seeing them together and him having her over in your second home made your blood boil. he clearly knew how angry you were but acted unscathed, resulting in constant bickering between the two of you and ian having to be the mediator as well as the venting outlet for how you two felt towards each other.
tension between you and the new couple grew so bad that you began to stop frequently going over to the gallagher home and avoiding ian and the others altogether. the family missed your presence and having you around. lip missed you being there even though you couldn’t tell through his cold, tough exterior.
his face and heart dropped at the sudden accusation, his chest ached knowing that things between the two of you didn’t so well and that your relationship wasn’t in the best place. he looked down at his beat up old shoes and back at you, “i didn’t come here to argue. i don’t have anywhere else to go and you were the first person that came to my mind. can i come in?”
your eyes softened at the rare side you were seeing of lip. the last time you saw him being vulnerable with you was when he discovered that he wasn’t the father of karen’s son, hymie. you remembered that he was looking forward to being a father and wanting to be different than his own. the night he came back from hospital, he showed up at your window, crawling in bed with you and laying on your chest.
“the baby wasn’t mine. when he was born, he looked nothing like me.” you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. “are you okay?” what else can you really say to someone after they find out or witness that? he shook his head. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore. i just want to lay here with you and forget for awhile.” you nod understandably and kiss the top of his head gently. “i’m here if you need anything, lip.” he took in a deep breath and exhaled, “i know. you always have been.”
you nod, moving out of the doorway and watching him enter your home, taking off his shoes and leaving his coat on the hanging rack. you shut and locked the door behind you, “you can make yourself comfortable. do you want anything to drink?” he walked over to the couch and sat where you were previously sitting. “uh, whatever you have is fine with me.”
you walk out of the living room and into the kitchen, grabbing two cans of cold coca-cola out of the fridge, internally thanking your mom for being able to afford majority of the essentials while grocery shopping. you shut the fridge door and walk back into the living room, seeing persimmon happily purring in lip’s lap while he was softly petting her orange fur. you knew that lip never grew up having pets but he took a liking to the tabby cat.
the feeling being mutual as she grew accustomed to lip’s weekly visits and sleepovers. you sat down on the other side of the couch next to him, setting the two cans on the set of coasters on the coffee table. he grabbed his can, cracking it open and taking a few sips, setting it down next to yours. he cleared his throat awkwardly, “how have you been?”
you shrug, “i’m okay. just been busy with my classes and everything.” he nodded understandably, “you haven’t came over in a while.. it seems like you’re avoiding everyone.” you ask, “are you speaking for everyone or is it just you?” he looked away nervously, “i mean like the family hasn’t seen you in a while. debs and carl ask about you all the time.”
you smiled softly, reminiscing helping out with the younger ones, whether it was keeping them entertained or helping out with homework. debbie and carl enjoyed spending time with you whenever you came over and weren’t upstairs with ian or lip. “i miss them a lot, i’m sorry i haven’t been around.. it’s just that-” he encouraged you, “you can say it..”
you let out a shaky breath, “it’s just that it’s hard seeing you with her.. so i just have been keeping my distance.” he sighs, “i know this hasn’t been easy for you and i’m sorry for that but it doesn’t mean you have to avoid everyone because of me.” you shook your head, “you don’t understand, lip..” he retorts, “what don’t i understand?”
you sit with your legs crossed on the couch next to him, “your house was a safe place for me.. it was somewhere where i felt like i had an actual family to go home to instead of being alone. when you started inviting her over, it felt like i was intruding.” he shook his head in protest, “you never intruded on anything..” you cut him off, “yeah i was.. it was so awkward and hurtful just seeing her be in the same place i was in.”
he asks, “like you would see me kiss her and she’d be there in my room wearing my clothes and you would think about how it was before?” you nod embarrassed of being this exposed to him despite him basically seeing everything physically but emotionally and internally, it was another can of worms to deal with and you didn’t want to push him away because of how you feel towards him, which was what happened anyway.
he nods again, attempting to grasp everything you feel about the current state of their downfall. he pulled out a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket as well as the lighter, sparking it and taking a long drag. he exhaled the smoke out of his mouth, handing it over to you, you holding it and taking your own drag. he said, “me and mandy got into a fight tonight and she was staying in my room so i just left the house before she did and came here.”
you exhale the smoke out of your nose and mouth, handing the cigarette back to him. you ask, “what did you guys fight about?” he looked over at you as he took another drag, “it was about you actually..” your eyes slightly widened, why were they arguing about you and what was the argument about in the first place? you laugh slightly, not knowing how to react to what he said.
you look over at him as he hands back the cigarette, “why did you guys argue about me?” he sighs, “well, ian was talking to me about how he hasn’t seen or heard from you and asked me if anything else happened between us?” you nod, “what did you say to him?” he shrugged, “i told him that you said you have feelings for me and that i didn’t handle it well and i guess debs overheard and asked if you and i dated in front of everyone at dinner so mandy was angry and she kept prying about everything that happened between us.”
you sighed, burying your face in your hands. the last thing you needed was mandy milkovich sending her minions after you, you two already didn’t get along well enough and the drama being over a guy is pitiful and demeaning to fathom. he set his hand on your back, “she’s not going to do anything to you. i’ll make sure of it.”
you uncover your face, “i’m not intimidated by her. i just don’t to be involved in any drama, especially over a guy.” you nervously rubbed your face, dreading going to school the next day, knowing her and her friends would possibly be there talking about what happened with you and lip. he asks, “do you regret doing anything with me?”
you shook your head, “no. i mean i have my regrets in life but i wouldn’t consider anything we did one of them.. i think it’s just apart of life.” he nods, “i never thought of it that way. before you ask though, i don’t regret anything we did either. i regret the way i’ve been acting lately towards you and i’m sorry for that.” you shrugged and rested your head on his shoulder, “you don’t have to apologize, i’m just glad you’re here.”
he smiled softly at you, “i’m glad you let me in.” you lifted your head up to look at him, “you’re always welcome here, lip.” he kissed your cheek and pulled you into a warm embrace, you laid your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you. he kissed your forehead as you laid your legs on his lap, pulling you close to him. you both sat in a comfortable silence for what felt like eternity until he eventually broke it, “do you remember that time we got drunk at the park instead of going to prom last year?”
you laughed softly, “i remembered that as if it happened yesterday..”before the junior year prom, you had been asked by jared, a popular guy in your class but he ended up ditching you for another girl that night. lip decided to sit out until you called him crying. he dropped everything and met you at a local park near his house, bringing a bottle of vodka that you both shared together. he said, “do you know what that night made me realize?”
you tilt your head in curiosity to hear what he was going to say. he continued, “it made me realize how much i love you.” your eyes widened slightly as your mouth fell agape, you felt your heart skip a beat and wanting to leap out of your chest.
“lip, i need to tell you something..” you both laid in his bed under the covers after hooking up for the second time that night. he lit a cigarette as you laid on his chest, coming down from your climaxes. he took a deep inhale as he let the smoke absorb in his lungs as he exhales, watching his chest rise and fall as you lay on top of him.
he asked, “what is it?” you sighed nervously, “i don’t think i can hold back anymore, lip…” he looked down at you as he smoked, “what are you talking about?” you looked away from him, petrified of what he was going to say or think about you. “i don’t want to just hook up with you anymore.. i want something more.” he sighed, and put out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him, rubbing his face in frustration. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”
you nodded, “yeah.” he shook his head, “i can’t date you.. you saw how things went with karen.” you sighed, “yeah but this is different.. i genuinely have feelings for you, lip. and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” he looked at you, “you don’t understand.. i’m not good at being with anybody. i’m not this version of me you created in your head. you wouldn’t like dating me..”
you shook your head, “we can take things slow.. i just want to be with you..” he said, “i can’t give you what you want.. i’m really sorry.” you nodded, getting out of bed and putting back on your clothes. he sighed, “are you really leaving?” your voice cracked tearfully, “there’s no reason we should keep doing this.. i love you and you don’t want me..” he retorted, “it’s not that i don’t want you, it’s just that i’m not a good person to be with..”
you bit back, “you want me on your terms and i can’t do it anymore. i’m just going to go home. don’t call or text me..” he got up and placed his hands on your shoulders, “just stay the night.. it’s really late and i don’t want you walking home.” you shook your head, “i just want to go home.. please.” he nodded sadly, moving his hands away from you and out of your way. you grabbed your bag off of his floor and walked out of the room, heading down the stairs as tears streamed down your face.
you stumbled over your words, “you love me?” he nodded, “i do.. and i’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” you said, “but i thought you couldn’t give me what i wanted..” he sighed, “i got scared. i thought that if we did date, it wouldn’t have ended well between us and you mean so much to me that i don’t want that to happen.” you said, “i still mean what i said back then. i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, lip.” he smiled softly, “i know you wouldn’t. and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you..”
you both stared at each other, smiling softly as he cupped your cheeks and leaned in, closing the distance. his lips pressed softly against yours, you immediately kissed him back while your hand found its place at the back of his head. your fingers ran through his shaggy dirty blonde hair as he lets out a light moan into your mouth, you pull away slowly as the kiss attempts to grow more intense. he looked at you concerned if he did something wrong, “is everything okay?”
you nodded, “everything’s fine.. i was just wondering what you’re going to do about mandy?” he sighed, “i have no idea yet. i just want to spend the rest of tonight with you. is that okay?” you nod eagerly, “of course. you might have to kiss me again though for me to fully agree.” he laughed softly, “come here then.”
he pulls you back into him, his lips touching yours fiercely as he slips his tongue in your mouth. you both moan softly as your tongues explore each other’s mouths, your hands wandering into his shirt as he takes off his jacket and throws it to the floor.
you straddle his lap, his hands grasping your hips but not breaking the kiss. the heat between you both growing more intense when his hands kneaded your ass, causing you to buck your hips into his and let out a whimper against his lips. he pulled away from you, wanting to look at you and soak in the moment.
his hands move teasingly slow up your body, making you shudder and grind your hips on his crotch. he whispered, “want to go to your room?” you bit your bottom lip, nodding eagerly. he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you laughed, making him smile softly at you. you leaned in and kissed him softly as he lead you both down the hallway and into your bedroom, continuing where you both left off.
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you rubbed your eyes groggily as you opened them up, you place your hand on lip’s chest as he snored softly next to you. you kissed his small triangle tattoo on his chest while you admired how peaceful he looked. you trace the tattoo delicately with your fingers as you watch him sleep.
his eyes fluttered open, smiling softly when he saw you. you leaned in, giving him a peck on his lips. he pulled you back in, kissing you deeply. he whispered against your lips, “good morning, baby.” you snuggled into his chest, “good morning. how did you sleep?” he kissed your forehead, “i always sleep good with you. how did you sleep?”
you smiled softly, “i slept really good.” you left a few tender kisses down his neck as his right hand slipped under the covers, groping your right breast. you whimper when he kisses you desperately, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. he crawls on top of you as you both kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer to you. his phone rings on the nightstand as you both make out on your bed, him ignoring the call.
the ringing sound ceased when it started ringing a second time, making you detach from his lips. “who’s calling you?” he looks away from you, grabbing the phone off the wooden surface when you saw that mandy was the person calling him. he sighed annoyingly as he set it to vibrate and set it back on the bed, attempting to kiss you once more when you stop him.
you said meekly, “you should go, baby.” he asked, “do you really want me to go?” you shook your head, “i don’t want you to but it’s best if you do. you and mandy clearly have things to work out.” he nodded understandably, he knew you were right about needing to go back. he got up out of your bed as he gathers up his clothes and putting them back on.
he asked, “what does this mean for us?” you shrug as you got up out of bed, “i have no idea. all i know is that i love you but i don’t want to get in between your relationship with her more than i already have.” he threw his shirt and jacket on when he walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands. “i love you too. i’m going to come back for you when i figure this out, i promise.”
he kissed you lovingly, brushing his nose against yours. “do you mind walking me out?” you smiled, “i don’t mind at all.” you both walk out of your bedroom and down the hall into the living room. he grabbed his shoes from by the door, putting them back on. you unlock the door for him as he stands in front of you, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he buries his face, inhaling the scent of your sweet perfume on the right side of your neck.
he lifted his face from your neck, giving you a gentle kiss goodbye. your noses brush against each other once more, “text me when you get home. i love you, lip.” he pecked your lips before opening the door, letting in the cold morning breeze. “i love you, baby. i’ll see you later, okay?”
you nod as you watch him walk out the door, down the porch steps and into the street. you closed the door once he was out of sight, locking it behind you. you stand against to the door, taking in a deep breath. you wondered if it was a dream that lip gallagher actually loved you. you exhaled as you smiled to yourself knowing that it truly wasn’t a dream.
you wondered what was going to happen next with you two but all that you knew was that you were going to stick by his side and he was going to be by yours.
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lovelyhan · 10 months
Note
elaborate in that shua imagine rn 🔪🔪🔪
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JOSHUA — 00:51
i wasn't going to but i'm sooo horny worked up for shua these days that maybe i can use a little self indulgence 🧍attached the fansite pics that drove me insane in the middle of the day for funsies too <3
warnings: school uniform kink? smut (MINORS DNI)
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"it wasn't this tight before." joshua pouts as he checks himself out in the mirror right after buttoning his shirt. "my friends used to tease me for being all lanky back in tenth grade, too."
it takes you a while to formulate a response—definitely not because you're distracted by the way the taut fabric of his old high school uniform visibly strains against the delicious circumference of his biceps. joshua glances behind him with a quizzical look.
"uh." you gulp, hoping to god that he didn't notice the way you almost drooled. "you go to the gym like thrice a week. i think the gains are very much spoken for."
your clipped response makes him arch an eyebrow but your boyfriend doesn't really comment on it. instead, he turns back to gaze at his reflection and promptly flexes his arms—the poor short sleeves doing their best not to tear at the seams.
fuck. you can feel your core throbbing at the supposedly innocent sight of your boyfriend admiring his own hard work. you cross your legs from where you're seated on the swiveling chair by his desk, silently pleading for your brain to please get out of the gutter.
"guess you're right," joshua laughs softly. "didn't expect that it'd be tight around the chest too though. maybe all that weight training was worth it after all."
"but baby, why are you looking at me like you wanna fuck?"
long story short, that's how you ended up on top of joshua's childhood bed with your skirt bunched up your hips—his long, thick cock sliding into your velvet heat with a torturously slow pace.
"you're such a filthy girl, aren't you?" he chuckles, tongue swiping along his bottom lip as he watches his length disappear inside you. "my mom is kind enough to cook us dinner downstairs but here you are getting worked up because of an old uniform. you like my arms that much, baby?"
you hate how joshua knows you like the back of his hand. you barely even gave away any hint of being turned on by how his shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and beefy arms, but he's got killer intuition after all.
"y-yes," you dole out pathetically, helpless from how deliciously he stretches you open. "so fuckin' hot, shua... got wet just looking at you. couldn't help myself."
your boyfriend sighs, planting his palms flat on either side of your head as he gazes at you lovingly and ravenously at the same time. he halts his movements completely as he lets you feel the way his cock throbs inside you.
"so impatient," he scolds. "couldn't wait until we got home before giving me those pretty bedroom eyes, huh?"
not seeing any incentive in saving face with a lie, you nod. "need you now. p-please fuck me shua. wanna get split in half on your cock—!"
he meets you halfway with a harsh thrust that makes the headboard thud against the wall, momentarily startling you out of your fucked out haze.
"god. fuck, baby," joshua rasps before leaning down to graze his teeth along the cut of your jaw. "don't say those kinds of things. we need to be quiet. wouldn't want my parents knowing how much of a dirty girl you are—wanting to get fucked stupid in my bed on the first visit—now do you?"
you shake your head—a prickle of rationality miraculously still floating amidst your lust-addled mind. joshua's parents are absolute sweethearts. they welcomed you into their house with open arms and wanted nothing but to make you feel at home.
what they don't know—and you hope to god won't ever find out—is that you feel most at home with your hot boyfriend fucking you stupid.
"joshua," you whimper quietly as he pounds you into the mattress—his arms flexing with the strain of thrusting into you with vigor while staying as quiet as possible. "you fuck me so good, baby. fucking love your cock s-so much!"
"you sure it's my cock that you love, not this uniform?" he breathes with a condescending smile—the muffled noise of skin slapping against skin ringing in your ears. "i've never seen you get horny so fucking quick over any other outfit i've worn before."
you can't even chide him for insinuating that you have some sort of school uniform kink or whatever—too delirious with how the vein running along the underside of his dick slides along your gummy walls. the wet sound of sex fills the room and you can only hope that neither of his parents would hear what's really going on in their only son's bedroom.
"'m so close, shua," you plead, tears catching along the line of your lashes as you hook your arms around his neck. "fill me up, please, please. need to feel you come in me, baby—i want it."
"needy fucking girl," he growls before hooking the back of your knees across his elbows—fucking into you with waning precision. "i'll finish inside this needy pussy and you'll sit at the dinner table with my cum dripping out of your hole. you want that, huh?"
before you can wrench out a semi-coherent response, joshua crushes his lips against yours before lifting your ass higher from the mattress. the new angle makes the fat head of his cock graze the sensitive patch of flesh deep inside you—making you cry out pathetically against his mouth.
your pussy clamps around joshua's heavy length with a vice grip, eyes fluttering as your orgasm washes over you like a storm surging into calm shores. your boyfriend isn't too far behind as he starts muttering obscenities against your lips before you feel his hot cum surge into your battered cunt—filling you until overflowing.
he strokes your hair lovingly as you both come down from your high, shared pants saturating the air with heat as he flashes you a ditzy smile. lightheadedness aside, you roll your eyes before mustering what little strength you have left to lean in and press a kiss on his lips.
then, a knock on his door interrupts the quiet afterglow.
"joshua, dinner's ready. both of you head back down, okay?"
he looks at you before stifling a soft laugh, slipping his softening cock out of your ruined hole before flashing you another heart-rending grin.
"we'll be right down, mom."
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mochinek0 · 5 months
Text
Daminette December 2023:9-Gremlin
"So there is a list for each of them." Marinette explained, "Allergy information, bedtime schedule, food they avoid, and emergency phone numbers."
"We are the emergency phone numbers." Jason interjected.
Marinette glared at him as Damian put down the duffel bag with the kids clothes and a diaper bag.
"Marinette, everything will be fine." Dick spoke calmly, "You both deserve a night out with out your kids."
"Yeah." Tim stated, "How long was your last date night that didn't involve a diaper change intermission or passing out on the couch?"
Marinette frowned, but Damian placed a kiss on top of her head.
"Angel, don't worry so much. Amaya, Jun, and Malik are in capable hands." Damian stated.
"Aw." Dick cooed.
"If anything happens to our children, I'll kill them in their sleep." Damian declared.
Jason sighed, "You both are making such a big deal about this! You are leaving them in Wayne Manor, one of the safest places in Gotham. We take care of a whole city; we can take care of our nieces and nephew. You're only going to be gone three hours max, depending on traffic and resturant service. You're not even leaving Gotham!"
"Jason's right." Tim explained, "Look, there's three of them and three of us. We can conquer and divide this. If you two can do it, us three can, too."
Marinette sighed, "Fine. Have fun."
Once they got into the car, Damian turned to her.
"You think they will call us?" He questioned.
Mari smiled, "No. They would have to put their pride aside for that. I'm sure they will do everything wrong."
Damian chuckled, "Well, Habibiti, let's go and enjoy our dinner."
"Man, it's like she doesn't trust us!" Jason complained.
"To be fair," Tim interjected, "we have never watched them by ourselves. Damian and Marinette are usually in the same room with us when we spend time with them."
Dick looked over Amaya, Jun, and Malik. They looked so different, but appeared so angelic. Suffice to say the Waynes freaked out when Amaya was born was an understatement. Amaya looked just like Talia, but Tom also had brown hair and green eyes, so he took the credit for his granddaughter having his appearance with Damian's skin tone. Jun looked just like Damian and Malik looked just like his mother. Dick's only worry was Malik. Malik was still only a years old. Amaya was six and was already in the first grade and Jun was in preschool, but he was sure that Amaya and Jun could help with tiny things.
"I'll take care of Malik." Dick offered, "Divide and conquer, just like you said."
"Have you read these lists?" Jason laughed, "Don't let Jun eat after 7PM and her bedtime is 7:30PM. Don't get Malik wet; not even a drop. Don't expect him to sleep when the others go to bed. Amaya's says to supervise when she color and her bed time is at 8PM."
"No water?" Dick questioned.
"Not to spill water on him." Tim sighed, "Just be careful when you bottle feed him. At least there's no bath time on there. I'll watch Jun and Jason can watch Amaya. He can read and she can color. Simple."
Damian and Marinette entered Wayne Manor to find the living room in chaos. It was 10PM and all three of their kids were still awake.
"What is going on here?" Marinette shouted.
Everyone froze.
"Maman! Baba!" Amaya and Jun shouted, running up to their parents.
Damian glared at his older brothers, "Why aren't they asleep? Marinette gave you specific instructions."
"Why is Malik wearing different socks and different clothes?" Marinette questioned.
"He spilled a drop, a drop, of water on his sock!" Dick complained, "He freaked out and wouldn't stop crying until I changed him. By that point, he was thirsty and then he spilled on his shirt. I changed him immiediately after that."
"That's why I said not to get water on him." Marinette sighed.
"I can see Amaya wasn't supervised." Damian declared, "I wonder how Father will feel about his new colorful mural at hip height."
"Blame Jason!" Tim cried out, "He was suppose to watch her, but he got too wrapped up in his book."
"Why aren't you asleep, Amaya?" Marinette asked their eldest daughter.
"Not comfy." she pouted.
Jason sighed, "She kept saying how the couch wasn't as comfy as her bed."
"Why didn't you let her sleep in your bed?" Damian growled.
"You want me to leave my neice in my room?" Jason shouted, "You know what I keep in there!"
Damian rubbed his forehead in frustration. He spotted Jun running laps around the living room.
"And Jun?" he questioned.
"Tim helped me with Malik when he was flailing around and I was trying to change him." the eldest Wayne admitted.
"And?" Mari snarled.
"We thought it would be okay to leave them alone for a moment." Tim whispered, "Amaya and Jun were watching a movie."
"What happned?" Damian demanded.
"She snuck into the kitchen and ate four cookies." Tim answered, "She's been burning off the sugar ever since."
"Sorry." the Wayne boys declared.
"Amaya, Jun." Mari called out, "I want all of your things put away in the bag, "Damian make sure everything is in there. I'm going to get Malik in his car seat and meet you outside. Both of you are going to bed when we get home. Jun, no cookies for you for a week."
Jun stomped her foot and began to pick up her toys in a sour mood.
"A week?" Dick whined, "It was a mistake that we made."
"No, Richard." Mari declared, "Jun knew she wasn't suppose to have any cookies before we got here. I spoke to her about it before we left."
Mari walked out the front door with Malik in her arms. Amaya and Jun made quick work of their belongings. Amaya waved to her uncles as she yawned and walked out the door. Damian held his second daughter's hand and the duffel bag. Jun sadly waved and walked out the door, pouting.
"Those three are gremlins." Jason stated.
"Sweet like their mother and a Hellraiser like their father?" Tim answered.
"Nope." Jason replied, "Like actual Gremlins, like the movie. Don't get them wet. Don't feed them after dark."
"It was don't get them wet, avoid bright lights, and don't feed them after midnight." Dick rebutted, "Those three love the park. Damian and Marinette take them all the time with Titus."
"And the other two?" Tim questioned.
"We should have listened to Marinette rules." Dick answered.
The three sighed.
Damian and Marinette smiled as their kids slept in the back of their car.
"You were right, Habibiti." Damian spoke, "They are asleep and likely my brothers' will be trying to get back in our favor. How about we go out for dinner same time next month?"
Marinette giggled, "I'd love too."
TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events@animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218
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ghouljams · 7 months
Note
can you please take us back to the beginning? from where it all started?
what did ghost do that made price decide ‘yep, imma ship you out with the horses’ and how did price mention goose before ghost met her.
I have been dying to write some Price and Ghost fic. I wanna do some fae au stuff for them too, but for now we focus on the cowboys. So here it is. Ghost tells Price he'd follow him into hell, and Price asks if he'd follow him to safety too.
"You're not renewing your contract," Ghost has never been keen on beating around the bush. Price is used to that, used to the sharp look in his lieutenant's eye that asks 'what are you keeping off the record and should I do the same?' There have been enough times that they've had to scramble in the dark without the cushion of military contracts, everything less than official in order to achieve the impossible, that he should have expected the look.
"I'm retiring," Price tells him, tugs open the corner drawer of his desk to fish for a cigar. The scrape of wood echoes through his office. Simon fidgets, a short flick of his nails against the pads of his fingers that is quickly stopped by Ghost's clenching fists.
"Retiring," Ghost repeats, feels the word out like he's never heard it before, "didn't know men like us retired." Price hums, clicking his lighter with a growing frustration, fucking military grade bullshit. Ghost flicks his lighter on, and holds it out for his captain. Price takes a moment with his cigar, letting the flame burn just a little long before Ghost flips the lid shut.
"When's the last time you slept?" He asks instead of rising to the obvious, if self deprecating, bait.
"Last night." The answer comes just a second too quick. Practiced. It's a standard question from the psych eval Price knows good and god damn well Ghost's been lying on for years. The kind of scars he's got...
"Really?" Price isn't asking, he lowers his cigar and exhales heavily, feels some of the tension melt off his shoulders, "I didn't." Ghost doesn't blink.
"Don't see how, they just keep makin' the barrack beds more comfortable." He jokes, the deadpan tone a distraction from his underlying agreement. Price would bet Ghost hasn't had a decent night's sleep in years. It won't be any better with him gone.
"Your contract is up about this time isn't it?" Price slides a folder to the side, flips up the edge of Ghost's papers. Same date stamped at the top as his own. It's been like that as long as he can remember. There's never been any question of what was going to happen on that date, except this time around. "What're your plans for that?"
"Renew." Ghost says without an ounce of hesitation.
"Without me?"
Ghost freezes. Price can almost see the gears turning in his head. A new captain, one he can't trust, one who doesn't know who he is or how he works. A new captain that might bring in new people, who might decide he's too much work and have him transferred out of counter terrorism. Who might not let his psych slip pass, who might discharge him for any number of things Price has let go over the years.
Ghost is a good soldier because he trusts him. Someone new? After what happened chasing down Hassan and Makarov, it's anyone's bet how he'll play. Those betrayals still hangs fresh over all of their heads.
"You like animals lieutenant?"
"Animals, sir?" Ghost's head tips forward ever so slightly, the smallest breech in his rigid posture betraying his confusion.
"My wife's family owns a ranch stateside. Would save me the trouble of lookin' for an extra hand if you wanted to change careers." Price leans back in his chair, "Good place to spend your retirement if you like animals."
"When'd you get married?" It's not the most elegant topic change, but it's also not a "no."
"Soon as I saw how shit the barracks were," It's the truth, but it sounds close enough to a joke that anyone else might think it was, "Got a kid too, Goose, you'd like 'er." Ghost grunts, breezing past that one, though Price knows he's carefully filing the information away. Mind like a bear trap that one. There's nothing Price has ever known Ghost to forget.
The two men regard each other across Price's desk. There's a level of trust between them that's carried them to this point, past every roadblock. It's not something that can be built up over night, nor is it one the affords requests lightly. Price has asked a lot of Ghost over the years, both of them understanding that the only way out was through. Now they stand at an impasse. One of them leaving, the other hoping they'll stay.
Ghost doesn't know what he'll be if Price leaves. He doesn't know what he is when he isn't this.
"Simon," Price appeals, leaning forward, "Let me do this for you. Let me get you out before this job kills you. The ranch is nice, it's quiet, you'll have your own place, work. You can sleep there."
Ghost is silent for a long moment, his eyes dark, clouded, as they stare Price down. It's anyone's guess what he's thinking. The conversations they've had- Price knows as well --no better-- than anyone that Ghost lives his life waiting for this work to kill him. He can't bury him again. Can't mourn Simon a second time when he knows he could have saved him. Price couldn't be there last time, but now? Today? He can try.
"I'm not babysitting," Ghost says finally. Price smiles, feels the tight anxiety in his chest loosen a little.
"Who? Goose?" He chuckles, shakes his head, "Doubt you'll get the chance to meet 'er, but I'll make sure she knows not to bother you."
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writingonleaves · 7 months
Text
it's so hard to watch everything i want (everything i was spinning down the drain) - trevor zegras
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pairing: trevor zegras x original female character
warnings: swearing, angst-ish, mentions of cheating (not between the two main characters), self-loathing, fluff
based on: "bleach" by 5 seconds of summer + "the archer" by taylor swift. title from "bleach"
word count: 15.6k
author's note: tried my hand at writing trevor's pov and it was Hard. this one means a lot to me personally so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! takes place at least five ish years from now so future fic alert!! trevor is finally employed again and that motivated me to finish this LOL
*****
Trevor Zegras is good at a lot of things. Remembering names and faces is at the top of the list.
It kinda makes sense. He’s been meeting and shaking hands with people ever since he was a teenager, most of them wanting something from him in one way shape or form. It’s not completely a bad thing. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without knowing who he was talking to. 
So that’s why it’s such a surprise that it took him a whole damn hour to figure out why the wedding planner for Jack and Amelie’s wedding looked so familiar. Isabelle, she introduced herself as, and he keeps racking his mind to see if he knows an Isabelle, but he comes up empty.
As a groomsman, Trevor was expected to come to the venue earlier. He didn’t have to come a whole week earlier, but he had nothing else going on and the wedding’s in Michigan, so it wasn’t completely inconvenient for him. He just crashed at Jack and Quinn’s, to which the latter rolled his eyes at. But the soon-to-be-married couple were thrilled that he was coming early so they could put him to work, and he was more than happy to help out. 
It’s halfway through assembling floral centerpieces when he shoots his head up to the wedding planner across from him. “Belle Holloway?”
Belle looks up with a small smile. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”
“Holy shit. I knew you looked familiar. It’s been so long.”
“Z, are you bothering Isabelle?” Jack calls out from another table. “Please don’t scare her away. She’s been our lifesaver the last year.”
Belle chuckles. “You don’t need to worry, Jack.”
“Yeah, Hughesy. Belle and I go way back.”
Amelie is passing by and hears that comment, raising her eyebrows. “You two know each other?”
“We grew up in the same town,” Belle explains, tying a ribbon around a bunch of flowers. “My brother was in Trevor’s grade in school. They played hockey together for a bit before Trevor got too good and left.”
“Belle was probably the smartest girl in school,” Trevor adds with a hint of pride in his tone. “Can’t say the same about her brother. Where did you end up going to college?”
“University of Michigan.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack smirk. Weirdo. He literally didn’t even go to Michigan. 
Trevor whistles. “Still smart. Where is Connor these days? He went to UConn, right?”
“Yup. He’s with his wife in Chicago now. Doing something with finance.”
Trevor makes a mental note to reach out to his old friend the next time he’s in Chicago. “And little Lily?”
Belle chuckles. “Not so little anymore. She graduated from Parsons last year and works at Michael Kors as a designer.”
Trevor smiles knowingly. “Guess her styling Connor all those years paid off, eh?”
“Guess so.”
(Amelie and Jack are at another table working on centerpieces, overhearing this conversation. They give each other a knowing look as they keep eavesdropping. This is why Belle didn’t seem surprised during their initial consultation when they had to explain Jack’s hockey schedule and why he wouldn’t be able to adhere to the traditional timeline if he wanted to be at all the appointments. Little did they know, she already knew someone in the NHL)
She then asks about his family, because while Trevor was always her brother’s friend, their parents got to know each other pretty well to the point where they would go over to each other’s for dinner enough for her to remember. Trevor talks about how Griffin is off doing God knows what in Florida but having a good time at his sports marketing job and how Ava, who’s the same age as Lily, graduated from Elon and is now in the Philly area as a nurse. 
They’re now moving pots of flowers around as they venture into their lives post-grad. “So have you been in Michigan this whole time?” Trevor asks.
“Yeah, though I had a brief stint in Santa Ana. This wedding is my last one here, actually, so a fun one to end on.”
Trevor follows her eye-line at the soon-to-be-newlyweds, who are now decorating the photo station but more fucking around then decorating. Amelie’s slapping Jack’s shoulder as he laughs loudly. Trevor smiles at the sight. “They’re great, aren’t they?”
“They are,” Belle admits. “I’ve worked with a lot of couples, but they’re one of my favorites. From the fact that they’re organized and flexible and so kind and understanding to the fact that they seem to be super in love with each other.”
“You said this is your last wedding here?” Belle nods. “Where you off to next?”
Trevor notices her stiffening a bit, and he immediately wants to take the question back. But the discomfort leaves as fast as it came. “Not sure. Gonna do some last minute packing up and then go home to New York next week to reset and figure it out from there. Connor offered his guest room in Chicago so I might take that. I have some friends that are dispersed around the country as well.” She shakes her head and switches topics and he makes a mental note of her vague answer. “Enough about me. How about you, Mr. NHL? Not gonna lie, when I saw Jack’s list of groomsmen, I had to brace myself mentally when I saw your name.”
“Brace yourself? What does that mean?”
Belle chuckles and his smile widens at the sound. “It’s been awhile, but not everything is different. I’m sure you’re still the life of the party everywhere you go, which means you’re at high risk of intruding on my meticulous plans on the day. Mind grabbing those shears for me next to you?”
He passes her the shears, standing up straight. “Jack’s conned you. He is way worse than I am.”
“Jack is also the groom so he knows that he has to listen to what I say if he wants things to go well,” Belle says. “How have you been, though? Has Anaheim been treating you well?”
“It has. The team’s great. The weather’s great. The beach is right there. Very different from Bedford.”
“Congrats on a great season. The playoff run was fun to watch.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “You watched?”
She shrugs a bit sheepishly. “If a game is on, I’ll usually watch. It’s like white noise to me now, after going to Connor’s, and I guess your games growing up. I went to a couple of Ducks games during the two years I lived in Cali.”
“And you didn’t reach out?”
She wipes her hands on her jeans. “I…you were always more Connor’s friend than mine. Didn’t want it to be weird.”
“It wouldn’t have been,” he assures. “Next time, let me know and I’ll get you tickets. You still have my number?”
“I do.”
“Perfect,” Amelie then comes up and seems like she has a question. “I’ll let you ladies be. Where’s your fiance?” He asks the bride-to-be.
“Quinn just arrived, so probably making sure the bar is all good, since you guys have your weird ass drink preferences,” Amelie says. “We should be almost done here though. Just have a couple last questions for Belle and then we’ll head back.”
Trevor snorts. “Typical. I’ll go find them.” He turns back to Belle with a grin. “Good to see you, Belle. Don’t be a stranger.”
Belle smiles. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Trevor promises, before walking away. 
When things finally settle down a couple of hours later and he settles into one of the guest rooms for the night, he reflects back to his own childhood and memories of Isabelle Holloway, or Belle, as everyone used to call her. Brunette and green-eyed, Belle was decently quiet compared to him and Connor’s wild teenage boy energy, but she was talkative with her own friends and Trevor’s parents adored her. She loved Taylor Swift, and if Trevor looked into it deeper, her blasting her music around all the time probably got Trevor to like it purely through osmosis. She was always clean, happy to do the dishes and Trevor often caught her organizing the living room and basement without being asked. She was incredibly smart, always had her homework done before hanging out with her friends and seemed to always ace her classes with minimal difficulty. Even when Connor gave her shit just because he was the oldest sibling, she rarely dished it back. That kindness extended to all of Connor’s friends as well, including Trevor, even when they were loud and playing video games when she came home from school. Every memory he has of Connor growing up, Belle’s right around the corner.
Belle Holloway had always been too good to them. It’s a no-brainer that her profession is based on giving something to others.
He still follows Connor on Instagram, so he goes to his old friend’s page to find his sister’s page. She’s private, but he doesn’t hesitate on requesting her account. He goes to take a shower and brush his teeth and when he comes back to his phone, he’s delighted to see that she’s accepted his follow request. 
Thus begins his stalking. 
There’s not many posts to stalk — she only has 47 — but it does span the amount of years he lost touch with the Holloways. There are posts from her later high school years when Trevor had already left Bedford, and he smiles to himself when he sees the post from her high school graduation, with Connor, Belle and Lily all cheesing in one photo. There are various posts from her college years — she must’ve spent a semester or a summer abroad in Barcelona — mixed with some various travels from Yellowstone to Sweden to Miami. Then it gets less frequent after she graduates college, posts of the Michigan landscape, posts with friends on a night out, at a friend’s wedding, the rare photos of just herself. She notices there’s a guy in some of those posts, but no one’s tagged and the caption doesn’t reveal anything, so he figures it must be a friend or ex-boyfriend of some sort. 
One thing that hasn’t changed much, he thinks, is how beautiful she is. As he scrolls on her Instagram and thinks back to seeing her earlier today, he kinda can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.
The day of the wedding comes by and it’s an early start for the bridal party. Trevor rolls into the Planterra Conservatory at 8:47 a.m. with coffees for himself, Quinn, Luke and Jack while Cole had gotten coffees for himself, Nico and Alex earlier. The suits are already hung up by the window of the spacious room and beers have already been opened. 
“Starting off early, eh?” He sets down the coffees on the table. 
“It’s a big day,” Luke calls out from steaming everyone’s suits.
“That it is,” he stops by the chair Jack is sitting in and gives him a hug. “Congrats, man. You nervous?”
“Nah,” Jack smiles. “More excited than anything.”
Quinn grabs his coffee and sits down. “I stopped by the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. Amelie said the same thing.”
Jack lights up at the mere mention of her. “I’m just anxious to see her, to be honest.”
Belle walks in then, clad in a light green jumpsuit and a tan blazer, with a bright smile on his face. “Oh good, Trevor made it. Everyone all good in here? Do you guys need anything?”
Jack grins. “We’re all good here, Isabelle. Thank you. I’ll holler if we need anything. Promise.”
She shoots the groom a semi-skeptical look before nodding. “Okay. I’ll check back in, in 30 minutes.”
“Do you need any help at all?” Nico asks. 
She shakes her head with a thankful smile. “You all are too kind. I’m good. Michelle and I are manning the floor. She’s kinda doing my job better than I am, when she has her own bridesmaid duties to worry about.”
“Impossible.” Quinn remarks. “You’re fabulous at your job.”
Belle rolls her eyes fondly, and Trevor’s reminded that even though she’s the one running the show, she’s younger than a majority of the bridal party. “Flatterer.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and clicks her tongue. “Alright. I’m out.” She looks at Trevor with a pointed look. “Zegras. You better come find me if anything goes wrong.”
“Why are you entrusting that responsibility onto me?”
“Because I have so many stories about you that I could tell everyone if you don’t listen to me.”
Trevor gasps in mock offense. “Belle, oh Belle! Resorting to blackmail?”
The whole room laughs as she grins. She stops in front of him, a more serious look on her face. “Call me if anything goes wrong?”
“I gotcha.” He assures her with a firm nod and she shoots everyone one last grin before walking out. If his eyes linger on her, no one has to know. 
(Everyone in the room knows. He doesn’t notice them all giving each other knowing smirks)
Jack speaks up first. “Z, if you end up hooking up with my wedding planner, give her a good time at least. She deserves it.”
“Jesus Christ, Jacky.” Trevor groans as everyone cackles. Thankfully for him, they drop it after that. 
The next time he and Belle get to interact is after the ceremony — to which he couldn’t stop smiling watching one of his his long-time best friends marry the girl of his dreams, proudly watching at the front as they exchanged vows to love each other forever — when it’s time for pictures and Belle and the photographer are working together to direct everybody where they need to go. Belle stops directly in front of Trevor and focuses on fixing his boutonniere. Her tongue pokes out as she focuses on making it straight after several attempts. Even amongst a crazy day, he feels a sense of calm surrounding him. 
She huffs. “Why won’t your boutonniere stay still?”
He smiles down at her cheekily. “On my worst behavior.”
She snorts, before softening. “Thank you for earlier.” He knows she’s referencing when there was a minor mix up with the rings right before the ceremony was about to start and Trevor got it under control within 10 minutes. 
“Of course.”
She puts a piece of stray hair back on his head away from his forehead and he feels his heart flutter at her light touch. She smirks a bit. “On your best behavior today, actually. Like you promised.”
“Don’t count on it once the open bar hits.”
She laughs before moving on to fix Luke’s collar and Trevor gets a second to finally take a normal breath.
The next time he spots Belle is well into the reception, when the dance floor is full and the drinks are flowing and everyone is enjoying themselves. She’s nibbling on a slice of cake in the corner, eyes sweeping through the crowd with a small smile on her face
Trevor, who ditched his blazer after ‘Mr. Brightside’ brought the place down at least 7 songs ago, strolls over, hands in his slacks. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Belle of the Ball.”
Her nose wrinkles. “No one’s called me that since I was 6.”
“A good wedding to end off on?” 
“I think so,” she smiles, staring at Amelie giggling as she pours a bottle of champagne into Jack’s mouth. “You having a good time?”
“The best. And I’ve been to a lot of weddings. You did beautifully.”
Belle waves him off. “All in a day’s work.”
“Do you still have fun at weddings? Since you have to work them?”
“Yes and no,” she admits. ‘Yes, because the end result is always worth it and seeing the happy couple live their day is always worth it. No because now when I go to weddings of my friends and family, it’s hard to turn my work brain off.” 
“Are you allowed to dance at your clients’ weddings?”
“I usually wouldn’t,” she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Make an exception for an old friend? To celebrate your last wedding in Michigan?”
She looks away for a second. “I don’t want to make Jack or Amelie feel weird.”
“Those two couldn’t care less. I’m sure they’d actually encourage it.”
He shoots what he hopes is an encouraging smile as he offers a hand. She looks at him for a couple of seconds before letting him help her up. 
It’s perfect timing as ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift comes on and the once rowdy floor is calmer, with couples dancing with each other or families dancing with their kids. It’s a dance floor filled with love.
He guides Belle to put her arms around his neck as he carefully places his on her waist. 
“I told Connor about seeing you again.” She starts
“Oh yeah? What did he say?”
“He told me to tell you to hit him up the next time you’re in Chicago.”
“Was already planning on it.”
“He also said and I quote ‘if the next thing I hear is that Zegras is dating my sister, I will kill him.’” Trevor tips his head back in laughter as Belle chuckles. “He’s lucky I never dated any of his friends. He had some cute ones.”
“Was I one of them?”
“Nice try. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Trevor.” She says dryly. “Besides, I was kinda kidding. It’s not like you or any of his friends would’ve gone for me anyways.”
Now he’s confused. “What?” He thinks she’s joking, but from her face he realizes she’s not. “You do know that like, half of the hockey team had a crush on you, right?” She tips her head back in laughter as he squeezes her waist. “I’m not kidding. It annoyed Connor to no end.”
She snorts. “There’s no way.”
“Up to you whether to believe it or not. Just know that I never lie, Belle.”
She hums, and the way she’s looking at him makes his hands start sweating. He hopes she can’t feel it through her jumpsuit. “What you’ve done with your hockey career and everything, it’s really cool. I’m happy for you, Trevor. You deserve it.”
And he’s heard so many compliments about his career throughout his whole career, but it’s different coming from someone from his hometown. Someone who knew him before he left and knew what he was like before the NHL — before his days at the NTDP, even. Someone who has nothing to gain from complimenting him. 
“Thank you, Belle. That-that means a lot coming from you.”
She just smiles back before they fall into a comfortable silence and keep dancing. He twirls her and does an exaggerated dip that has her giggling. They keep dancing and dancing, even as the songs change tempo.
(Amelie, who’s resting her feet right by the dance floor, nudges Jack and gives him a look. She picks up a disposable camera and points it at them, before taking her phone and also taking a picture. She has an inkling that Trevor and Isabelle may want these someday)
“What are you up to before the season starts?” 
He shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually. I just need to be back in Anaheim for pre-season in three weeks.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Quinn and Jack have been letting me crash at their place. Don’t have an exact date of when I’m leaving yet.”
Belle snorts, though it’s paired with a smile that seems fond. “Still the same, huh, Trev?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your spontaneity used to stress my parents out, even back then. The reason they still liked you is because you could charm your way out of it.”
“I stressed Kurt and Susan out?” He says, actually worried.
“Oh, hush. It’s not that deep. My dad loves watching you play. There’s been many a family call where I hear a Ducks game on in the background. Unless it’s against the Rangers, of course, in which you don’t matter.”
“To be expected,” Trevor says, heart lifting at the fact that two people who used to drive him around so much still support him, even from afar. “Do they still live in Bedford?”
“Yup. Though with the amount of time my dad spends in White Plains golfing, you’d think they lived there now. He’s loving retirement, clearly.”
Trevor laughs. “I’ll have to hit up Kurt when I’m back for a couple rounds. Does Susan still make the best apple pie?”
“Yup. And everyone still raves about it when she brings it to parties.” 
“You think she’d make me a slice?”
“She’d bake you three pies and send you home with them to Julie and Gary.”
He grins. “Never knew little Belle was this sassy.”
“Because you wasted all your time with Connor.” She shoots back with a laugh. 
(Honestly, he thinks as he twirls her again, maybe she’s right. Who knows what could’ve been if he had seen Belle as more than just Connor’s quieter, talented sister.)
“You said you’re leaving next week?”
“Yeah. Just need to sort out some boxes to move to storage before driving back to New York.”
“You’re driving all the way back to Bedford?”
She laughs at his slight disbelief. “Well, yeah. It’s only a 10 hour drive.”
Suddenly, an idea pops into Trevor’s head, and before he can overthink it, he blurts it out. “What if I came with you?” She blinks, and he forges on. “I mean, I don’t have much going on and it’d be nice to go home before pre-season. I’ll help you load your car and pay for your gas and meals and-”
“Trevor, I-are you sure? You don’t have to…we literally just reconnected after not seeing each other for over a decade.”
“I know I don’t have to do anything,” he says, now trying everything to convince her. “If I’m overstepping, you can tell me and I’ll immediately lay off. But it just seems like…maybe some company could be nice. And we could switch off driving too.”
She bites her lip and tilts her head curiously, trying to find something in his face. It only took her a couple of seconds to chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure. Why not? Come join me on my drive back home.”
He lights up, grinning widely. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“When are you planning on leaving?”
“Monday.”
In two days. Perfect.
“This is gonna be so fun. Just you wait.”
“I don’t doubt it. Fun seems to always follow you wherever you go.”
He has to let her go, since she has some last things to do as the wedding planner. He kisses her cheek quickly before he leaves the reception, to which Quinn raises an eyebrow at but doesn’t say anything. The next morning, during the quick and informal thank you breakfast for the bridal party at a nearby, fancy-ish brunch place, Jack throws him under the bus (“Saw you getting pretty comfortable with Isabelle yesterday,”) and he reveals their plan for the next day. 
It might be one of the most TV show worthy reactions from every single person, bridesmaid and groomsmen. Luke chokes on his mimosa, Quinn shakes his head, Alex blinks, Nico has a shit-eating grin on his face, Jack smirks and Cole lets out a bark of laughter. The girls have all been filled in and equally have similar reactions. Amelie immediately says “you’re joking,” Michelle, at the same time as Amelie, says “ain’t no way,” Kaia, like Alex, just blinks. Nicole and Sarah’s jaws drop wide open, Annemarie starts cackling and Isla drops her fork. 
“What?” Trevor responds, munching on his bacon. “Why all the reactions?”
“Z, are you sure about this?” Quinn asks, ever the voice of reason.
“Yes? It’s just a drive. Everyone needs a car buddy for that long of a drive. Gives me an excuse to go home too.”
“Trevor,” Amelie starts. “I think we’re all just a bit confused because this is…not that we don’t like Isabelle! She’s wonderful. But this just seems out of the blue.”
Jack snorts. “There’s nothing confusing about this at all.” Everyone, Trevor included, turns to look at the new groom, who just shrugs while taking a sip of his coffee. “He likes her.”
“For real?”
“Oh my.”
“Okay, Z! Atta boy.”
“Haven’t you not seen her for like, 10 years?”
“Have you liked her this whole time?”
“That’s crazy.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Trevor says above everyone’s exclamations. He waits until everyone’s settled. “I don’t like her. Not like that, at least. She’s just…I don’t know. It was good to see her again after so long. It felt like going back to old times. Simpler times.”
“It’s giving childhood friends to lovers,” Michelle says, making everyone laugh. Trevor rolls his eyes again and the subject is dropped. 
Jack volunteers to drive Trevor to Belle’s before him and Amelie’s flight to Greece tonight for their honeymoon. He doesn’t leave Quinn and Jack’s place without chirps from every single person still there, gathering their things and cleaning up. He makes sure to leave with giving Amelie a tight hug and a fond kiss on her cheek before playfully glaring at everyone else as he leaves.
He climbs into the passenger seat. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“We’ve known each other since we were 16, Z.” Jack says, starting the car. “Nothing you do fazes me anymore.”
Trevor just hums, staring at one of his dearest friends who is now a husband. “Congrats, Jacky. I know I’ve said it a lot recently, but I’m really happy for you.”
A small smile spreads across Jack’s face, as he automatically goes to touch his wedding ring. “Thanks, man.” Silence falls between them. “Did you ever, even just the slightest, like Isabelle as more than a friend? And be honest with me.”
“No,” Trevor replies honestly. “I always knew she was kind and thoughtful, but she was always just Connor’s little sister and kept to herself and her own friends most of the time.”
“And now? Do you like her now?”
“I don’t know,” Trevor replies honestly. If Jack is shocked, he doesn’t show it. Trevor clears his throat, “We haven’t seen each other in over 10 years. I don’t know her enough anymore to know if I like her.”
Jack just hums. “Look, I…”
“You what?” Silence. “Jack.”
“Amelie and I got pretty close with Isabelle beyond her being our wedding planner. Maybe it’s because she’s close to our age or just easy to get along with. I think…she never told us directly, but I think something happened, Z.”
“What do you mean something happened?”
“Well, I wasn’t there, but her and Amelie went out for casual drinks once to plan some stuff out and Amelie was, you know, casually asking her about relationships and if she ever dreamed of her own wedding, and she got super…not defensive. But Amelie said it was like a switch turned on. All she said is that at some point she did, but she’s not at that point of her life anymore, and then she immediately changed the topic. It’s none of my business, I get that, but she’s also my friend, Z. Just…look out for her, okay?”
“Of course I will,” Trevor promises as Jack slows down in front of Belle’s house. They both climb out of the car and Trevor grabs his backpack, duffle and garment bag from the backseat.
“Thanks for driving.” Trevor embraces his friend in a tight hug.
“Anytime,” Jack says. “Thanks for everything this last week. And just in general. I love you.”
“Love you too, man. Have fun on your honeymoon.”
Jack smiles. “Thank you. You two drive safe, eh? Let Amelie and I know when you're back in New York.”
Trevor just nods, before walking up to the front door and knocking. Within seconds, Belle opens the door with a wide smile. She looks beyond Trevor’s shoulder and waves at Jack as he drives away.
“Hi!”
Trevor can’t help but smile at her energy. It’s infectious. “Hey, Belle. Are you sure you don’t mind letting me crash for the night? I can always get Quinn to come get me later.”
She opens the door wider to let him in. “It’s not a bother at all. As long as you’re good with sleeping on the floor.” He just waves her off, setting his duffle and backpack down and looking around at the barren household. “I would give you a tour, but there’s really not much to see anymore.”
“You need any help?”
She smiles at him sweetly. “I have some boxes in the garage that you could help me move?”
He’s eager to help, until he lifts the first box, grunting about how heavy it is. Belle just chuckles, because why else had she not moved these in her car yet? If she has a professional hockey player volunteering to help her move, then she might as well put him to use, right? Trevor just rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but let a smile peek through at hearing Belle’s giggles. Once the car is packed (it takes longer than usual, as they stand out in the driveway and in the garage inbetween moving, chirping at each other and catching up), they realize it’s getting close to dinner time especially if they want to get an early start in the morning. Trevor asks what she wants to have (“as your last night living in the state of Michigan”) and she lights up, dialing up the place of her favorite Asian fusion takeout place. Trevor tries to hand over his card but she smacks it out of his hand, glaring at him while still on the phone. 
It’s a nice day outside, so they decide to venture out and have dinner on the front porch that she’s going to miss very much, leaning their backs against the panels of the house, sitting a comfortable 4 feet apart, Trevor’s knees pulled up and Belle with her legs outstretched and ankles crossed. He watches as she looks out at the sunset painting the quiet residential street, which is even more stunning than usual. If you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of kids gleefully screaming and dogs barking here and there. For a moment, Trevor feels like he’s intruding as Belle continues staring out, lost in her own world. Her focus only shifts a few minutes later when a car rolls up with their take out, as she jumps up and accepts the food with a gracious smile.
He helps her open boxes and suddenly there’s a generous spread of food between them as they start eating.
Trevor breaks the silence. “You never told me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you’re leaving Michigan.”
She’s in the middle of stuffing a crab rangoon in her mouth. She chews and swallows for a couple of seconds. “It’s a long story.”
“I have nothing but time if you want to share.”
“I lied. It’s not really a long story. Just a sad one. That’s just my go-to when people ask.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. Ever. But you also don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “I was supposed to get married earlier this year.”
He blinks. Once. twice. And he’s speechless for once in his life. She barrels on. 
“Nate and I…I met him at UMich my junior year. I had full plans to leave Michigan right after college. Not that I don’t love it here, but I just wanted to go home. But he got an offer here after graduation and I found a gig working for a great wedding planner so I stayed. And it was good. The brief stint in Santa Ana I mentioned was because of his job, so we moved out there. But I really didn’t mind. I actually really enjoyed California.” She picks at her fingernails, “He proposed to me the beginning of last year, a week before we were gonna move back to Michigan. And I was happy. Really happy. So many years I had been planning other people’s weddings and I was finally going to have my own with someone I loved.”
“Belle, you don’t have to-”
She waves him off. “The day of our cake tasting, we were running late and he was in the shower and I grabbed his phone to put in my bag. And there was a text that flashed on my lock screen. ‘Missed you, baby. See you tonight’ and that was it. He had been cheating on me for almost a year. I moved out that night and crashed with a friend for a few weeks before finding this place. Grabbed my shit when I knew he was gone during the day at work. Canceled all of the deposits. Gave the ring back.” She chuckles, albeit sadly. “Funny. The week after I found out, I had my first consultation with Amelie and Jack and honestly, throwing myself into their wedding planning may have saved me, not that they know that. Anyways, yeah. That’s why I’m leaving Michigan. I honestly would’ve done it sooner but I had to stick it out for those two. They deserved it.”
Trevor’s silent for a couple more moments. “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“If we see him out and about, point him out so I can kick his ass.”
Her chuckle comes out broken but genuine. “Connor was real close when I told him. I was afraid he’d just start driving here. So you’d have to get behind him in line.”
“Gladly,” he scoots closer to her and offers an arm. She collapses into his side. “God, Belle. I’m so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you.”
She sniffles. “It’s okay.”
“No, Belle. It’s not okay. What an asshole.” He can feel tears on his shirt and he starts rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You deserve someone to love you just as much as you love them. Someone to put you above all, who views your love and presence as a privilege. Because it is a privilege. I would know.”
She snorts, still sniffling. “You made fun of me all the time when we were younger.”
“Nah ah ah. Connor did. I didn’t. And that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how lovely you were even back then. Why do you think Connor and I were so against you going on a date with that guy…what was his name?”
“Trent.”
“Yeah. Trent. First of all, just sounds like a douchebag.”
“And Trevor is so much better?”
“Second, because he was an ass. We didn’t terrorize you about it just because. We terrorized you about it because we knew he had cheated on his ex-girlfriend.”
“Maybe if you had ever met Nate, you could’ve sniffed out his bullshit right away. Took me around 6 years to figure it out.”
“You’ve always had good judgment, Belle. No need to blame yourself when you did nothing wrong.”
“Did I though?” She whispers. “Do nothing wrong, I mean. What if-what if I was working too much or I wasn’t attentive enough or I didn’t-”
Trevor shakes his head adamantly. “Belle, no. Stop. Absolutely not. You did enough. You were enough. I’m not gonna sit here and let you pick apart yourself unfairly. You stayed in Michigan for him. You moved to Santa Ana for him. You gave all you had. And he’s the one who fucked it all up. That’s not on you.”
She signs, a bit defeated but musters a small smile. “Thanks, Trevor.”
“Of course.” He stuffs a piece of sushi in his mouth.
She shoots him a small smile that has him swallowing roughly. “Nonetheless, I’m really happy we ran into each other. It’s been nice to have a slice of home back in my life again.”
Trevor just smiles, staring into her warm eyes. “Me too.”
…..
It’s hour two into the 10 hour drive when she breeches the subject again. 
“Connor never liked him.” Trevor turns to look at Belle, who has one hand on the wheel casually. He automatically turns the music down as she continues. “He tried to get along with him, for my sake. But Connor was never sold. I always thought it was just him being a protective older brother. When I asked why, he always just gave some vague answer. Didn’t like his vibe, or whatever. It’s been hard not to agonize over now. If I should’ve just listened to him from the start.” Trevor doesn’t know what to say, but just faces her fully so she knows that he’s listening. She lets out a heavy breath as she puts her sunglasses atop her head. “I never asked. How’s your love life?”
Trevor snorts and the playfulness is back in the air again. “Well, not married like Connor is. I’ve had a couple things here or there. Clearly nothing that’s stuck.”
“Any particular reason why?”
He shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit small even though he knows that’s not her intention whatsoever. “I think when people date me, they don’t necessarily want all of me, you know? They want the jokester and the charmer. They don’t want the shifts in mood or the obsession of figuring out why I’m in a scoring drought or the insecurities.”
Belle hums sympathetically. “I think you just haven’t found the right one yet.”
“You sound like Quinn.”
She laughs. “From the small amount of interactions I’ve had with him, I’d say that sounds pretty on brand.” She shrugs. “You have time though. We all do. If that’s something you even want.”
“What? Marriage?”
“Yeah.”
“I do, I think. Want that, I mean. It’s just…hard. And scary. The thought of giving someone all of you? That’s giving them a lot of power.”
“I get it,” she says. “God, I really get that.”
“Is marriage not something you want anymore?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. I think I still do. It’s just…it’s still too soon, you know? And I don’t know if I have the energy to, like you said, give someone all of me again. I got hurt once. I don’t know if I can afford that again.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. So anybody would be lucky to love you.”
And shit, that kinda slipped out. His heart starts racing as she looks at him briefly in surprise. “That’s…that’s very kind of you, Trevor. Probably too big of a compliment.”
“Not too big of a compliment,” he automatically responds, digging himself into a deeper hole that he can’t even decipher. If he thinks about it too hard, he would realize that this is the most open he’s been with someone outside of his tight circle in awhile. And a week ago, she hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“You know, you were my favorite out of Connor’s friends back then.” 
A pang of satisfaction touches his heart and he’s grinning. “Yeah?”
Belle rolls her eyes at his slight smugness. “Don’t let that get to your head.”
“Too late.”
“I don’t know. I just..liked how friendly you were to everyone you encountered. I don’t think there was ever a time when you came over and didn’t strike up a conversation with me. Even though I was quiet and shy, you still always treated me like a person.”
“I feel like that’s the bare minimum, no?”
She shrugs. “Now that we’re in our late twenties, sure. But back when we were 12, 13 years old? You’d be surprised.” 
He watches her drum her fingers against the steering wheel, the patterned bandana in her ponytail swinging with the wind, wispies from her ponytail framing her face. If he looks hard enough, he can see 10 year old Belle sitting on the sofa in the Holloway’s living room, a sketchbook on her lap and a glass of apple juice next to her. If he listens hard enough, he can hear her humming to ‘Love Story’ as he leaves Connor’s room to walk past her room in the hallway to the bathroom. Maybe he can even smell her vanilla body spray that used to always filter out of her room if he breathes in deeply enough. 
All he can see and hear and feel is his childhood self. Looking at her makes him feel blissfully young, a bit naive and incredibly out of his depth. 
She casts him a casual glance. “You good?”
Trevor grins easily. “Never better.” 
It’s hour five after stopping for lunch. Trevor’s behind the wheel now and her legs are up on the seat with her as she stares out the window, her chin on her knees. He has an urge to put a hand on her knee. To comfort her or to let her know that he’s there, he doesn’t know. But he refrains. 
“Belle?”
“Hm?” 
“Can I ask you a question?”
She turns to face him, chin still on her knees. “Should I be nervous?”
He snorts. “No. I’m just a dumb hockey player. What could I possibly say that would catch you off guard?”
“You’re not dumb. And plenty. You knew me when I was 13 and in my awkward phase. That’s longer than most of the people I’ve seen in the last five years. What’s your question?”
Okay, Trevor can dissect all of that later. ““Are you going to miss Michigan?”
She lets out a thoughtful hum. “I’ll miss parts of it. I loved going to college at Michigan, made a lot of friends from college and work. And I grew up a lot here. Not to mention, Michigan’s almost unfairly beautiful. I’ll also weirdly miss my porch a lot. But also, it’s tough driving around with thoughts of Nate at every corner. Because he’s present in practically all the memories I have here. So I’m glad I’m leaving because I know I need to.” He turns to her quickly and sees her lip quiver. Almost as if he had imagined it, she offers a small smirk. “That’s the question you were so afraid to ask me?”
He sputters out a laugh. “What does that mean?” He asks defensively. 
She shakes out her hair to redo her ponytail. "You never had a problem asking anything to anyone back in the day.”
“Things change.”
She pauses for a split second before tying up her hair and looking at him. “They do. I’m sorry for assuming they don’t.”
Hour eight and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a bit now. One can only talk for so long, even someone as chatty as Trevor. Belle’s behind the wheel again and her phone is plugged in playing music. The playlist he had put on initially has cycled through and without asking, he plugged her phone in and shuffled a random playlist of hers.
He vaguely recognizes Taylor Swift’s voice and looks to see what song it is. ‘The Archer.’ His ears perk up as he listens to her softly sing along, and then, he’s actually listening to the words. 
Belle’s eyebrows are pinched together as she sings about people seeing right through her and how all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put her together again. He wants to offer her a hand to squeeze, a touch for support, but he doesn’t. 
He clears his throat. “So. Santa Ana. What was your favorite part?”
She automatically grins. “All of it? I don’t know. I liked my job. I liked the area. I liked the weather. It felt like a breath of fresh air, in a way.”
“Would you consider moving back?”
“Maybe. I honestly haven’t really thought of anything but leaving Michigan recently.”
He stops asking her questions. He doesn’t want to keep bringing up the pain. 
By the time she rolls into the driveway of Trevor’s childhood home, it’s almost 8 pm. Almost as soon as she kills the engine, the front door opens, revealing both his parents. Julie runs out, only barely letting Belle step out of the car before throwing her arms around her. He smiles fondly as his mother puts her hands on Belle’s cheeks as the younger woman chuckles, before turning to Gary and giving him a quick hug as well. Trevor drags his stuff out of the trunk and shuts it, smiling to himself as he listens to his mother invite Belle and her parents over for dinner the next night and watching Belle nod enthusiastically. 
She then turns to him and it feels like someone has reached into his heart and punched it. She smiles. “Thanks for the company.”
He puts down his duffle and scoops her into a tight hug, only letting her go after giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Anytime. See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.”
(And if he catches his mom giving him an inquisitive look as they all watch Belle back out of the driveway, he doesn’t say anything)
Tomorrow comes and Trevor’s content with mostly being lazy, adjusting to being home and around his parents. It feels weird to be in these walls without Griffin and Ava, but then again, he’s sure it’s one-sided. He moved away when he was so young, leaving behind his supportive parents and his even-more-supportive siblings. They got used to Trevor not being around. 
He’s recapping Jack’s wedding to his father on the patio while his mom is preparing pies in preparation for the Holloways, the mouthwatering smell filtering through the screen door. He smiles as he recalls the week leading up when he went early and was roped into helping out, how beautiful Amelie looked and how he had never seen Jack that excited and happy before, not when he was drafted first overall, not when he won the Eastern Conference Final. He talks about how their vows made Trevor tear up and just how fun it was to celebrate two people he loves. He talks about reconnecting with Belle and briefly brushes over their drive back. He gives vague answers when his parents — mostly his mom — try to pry more, partially because it’s so much that he’s still trying to decipher it himself and partially because some of it isn’t his place to tell. 
An hour later, he can’t help but beam as Belle’s parents greet him similarly to how his greeted Belle the day before. He helps Susan bring in the pasta salad and shakes Kurt’s hand, his slight nerves settling as the first thing Kurt says is how proud of Trevor he is. Belle is the last one who walks through the door, listening to the moms talking animatedly in her ear. She’s wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a denim jacket over her shoulders and she’s glowing. He itches to give her a hug but just settles for a grin instead before turning his full attention to Kurt. 
It’s when the parents are filtering outside does he get a chance to say hello to her as they both hang back in the kitchen. She bumps her hip with his. “Long time no see.”
He pulls her into a side hug. “Hilarious. Want anything to drink before heading out there?”
She eyes the few bottles of wine in the mini wine cabinet. “White wine if it’s not too much of a hassle?”
He opens the fridge and grabs a wine glass. “My mom put a bottle in the fridge earlier. It’s her favorite, so if it’s bad, it’s not my fault.” She takes the glass from him graciously and he grabs a bottle of beer for himself as they both head outside. 
“It’s weird being here without Connor.”
“I was just thinking earlier how it’s weird being here without Griffin and Ava.”
“At least we have each other, right?”
He hums. “Good thing.” She then gets roped into a conversation with his father and he happily takes a backseat, answering when a question is directed towards him but perfectly content in watching her. 
(Julie and Susan, who had never really considered these two as a pair, nudge each other and exchange a few words, watching as Belle laughs while sipping her wine and Trevor just stares at her.
“She was supposed to get married last year. To a guy she met in college.”
Julie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that right?”
“Yup. Until she caught him cheating.”
Julie sighs. “I wish we could protect our kids from everything that could hurt them.”
“I do too.” Susan watches her daughter wistfully and lovingly. “She’s always thrown herself into work, But especially after the break-up. You have no idea how relieved I was when she told me she was coming home.”
“Does she know where she’s going next?”
“Not that I know of. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t know.”
“She’ll be okay,” Julie says confidently, rubbing her old friend’s shoulder. “I’ve never had any doubt about Belle.”
“But you had doubt in the others?” Susan teases as Julie snorts. “All our kids are doing well for themselves, but you have one who is the definition of achieving their childhood dream.”
Julie sighs thoughtfully, looking at Trevor. “He’s done well for himself, I think.”
“You think?”
Julie just smiles, clinking her glass against Susan’s.)
Meat is grilled, salads are tossed and food is eaten as the sun fades away. Sometime between sunset and when the sky becomes black, the fireplace is lit and the outdoor lamps are turned on. Trevor switched to water after his second beer, liver still trying to recover from the wedding festivities. 
Trevor finds Belle sitting by the edge of the pool with her feet dipped in, sandals to the side of her. Her hands are folded on her lap as she stares down, occasionally kicking her feet a bit to make the water ripple. He clears his throat so he doesn’t startle her. She looks up and her lips quirk up at seeing him, but they soon fall, as she turns back to the water and tilts her head to the side, taking a deep breath. 
Trevor licks his dry lips. “Come with me?”
“Where are we going?” She asks, accepting the hand he offers as she gets up and slips on her shoes, adjusting her dress. 
“You’ll see. We won’t be long.” Wordlessly, they go around the side of the house to go to the driveway. He catches his mom’s eye and just offers a small smile. Julie’s eyes flicker between him and Belle before she nods. Belle doesn’t say anything as Julie tosses her son the keys to her car, letting Trevor lightly tug her along by loosely intertwining their hands. He opens the passenger door for her and she gives him a grateful look as she slips in. 
He hasn’t been to his intended destination in at least five years, but he knows the route all the same, easily driving the seven minutes. He sneaks a glance or two at Belle as the minimal streetlights light her face aglow for a few seconds at a time. Before he overthinks it, he reaches out and grabs her hand gently, waiting for her to pull away. She doesn’t, instead lacing her hand with his and squeezing once. 
“I haven’t been here since I was in high school,” Belle says as Trevor kills the engine, the tranquility of the small lake and lookout everyone who grew up in Bedford called “Pink Sun” due to the incredibly beautiful sunsets one could see if they were lucky, no one knowing that it’s actual government name was. He’s almost confident that this specific lookout is private property, due to the string lights adorning the trees meticulously that seem to always be on, but whoever owns the property clearly doesn’t care. He would come in the summers from time to time with friends like Connor after he moved away for hockey, but he knows he didn’t experience it the same way as others did.
“Which tree did you have sex under?” Trevor asks as they get out of the car and open the trunk. He quickly fluffs up the two pillows his mom has in the car at all times and pulls the blanket over them both as they get comfortable.
She chuckles and Trevor immediately smiles at the sound. “Gross.”
“What? Isn’t that what people did?” She just lightly slaps him before they both fall into a comfortable silence again. She takes her hand from under the blanket and reaches out to find Trevor’s. He offers his hand immediately. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. 
She starts sniffling, and when he turns to her, concerned, he sees tears rushing down her face. He immediately wraps his arms around her and maneuvers her so that she’s crying into his chest. He tries to be steady for her shaking body, rubbing her back and muttering sweet nothings to assure that he’s here and she’s not alone. He places a couple of kisses on top of her head without thinking because there’s a split down the middle of his heart that’s widening everytime she whimpers.
She cries. The water ripples. Trevor holds her close. 
…..
The entire time Trevor’s back home, he doesn’t go more than a day without seeing Belle. They get ice cream, sitting in the chairs that haven’t been replaced in at least 30 years and giggling as the ice cream drips over their fingers. They go back to Pink Sun to watch the sunset. Because this whole month has him feeling nostalgic, he goes back to his old rink in Stamford and she tags along, indulging him as he pulls up his hoodie over himself as they watch the last 15 minutes of a game the AAA team that Trevor used to be a part of is playing in. Some of the front office staff is still the same and they all immediately beam when seeing Trevor. He chokes up a bit when talking to some of them. He’s missed it here more than he thought he would. 
After training sessions, he just shows up to her house without any warning. They take a lot of drives, passing by landmarks they know well and ones they don’t know at all. They spend hours chatting on the porch of her parents’ place, waving at neighbors as they walk by and petting their dogs. She doesn’t cry in his chest again, but there are stretches of silence where she craves a comforting shoulder. Trevor doesn’t hesitate to offer his. 
He learns more about why she enjoys wedding planning and her time in Michigan. She learns more about how his goals have changed the longer he’s been in the league and his time in Anaheim. They both talk about times they feel like they’ve had their heart ripped to pieces and he finds himself admitting things he’s never admitted out loud to anyone — not Jamie, not Jack, not Cole, not Alex. 
He wonders to himself how he’s lived this long without her in his life. 
The day Trevor has to leave for Anaheim, she offers to drive him to LaGuardia, smiling as he hugs his parents goodbye in the driveway, promising to see them soon when the Ducks are playing in New York. 
She shuts the trunk at the departures drop-off area with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss you, Trev.”
“I’m gonna miss you too.” And then he practically manhandles her into a tight hug, his chin resting on her shoulder, rubbing her back before pulling away. “If you ever wanna come out to Anaheim, there’s always a place for you to stay.”
“I’ll think about it.” With most people, it’s an empty promise. But with Belle, he knows she means it. “Good luck this season. Score some goals, yeah?”
He rolls his eyes, arms still around her waist. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You have my number. Use it.”
She nods, tilting her head to the side. “Okay.” She presses a kiss on his cheek before he forces himself to let go. She sticks her hands in her jean pockets. “Text me when you land?”
“Of course. Bye, Belle. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye. Travel safe.”
Trevor forces himself not to look back as he walks through the automatic doors. 
…..
The first roadie of the season includes a stop in Chicago, and Trevor doesn’t hesitate to text Connor. He feels the familiar pang in his heart again, guilty that he hasn’t reached out until now. But when he and Connor meet up for a quick coffee the morning of the game, it washes away quickly. They fall right back to where they were when they were 16, even though they’re both over a decade older and a bit wiser now. Trevor practically shoves two tickets for the game for him and his wife, even though Connor is trying to bat his hand away. 
After the game, the three of them go to dinner and he gets introduced to Ashley, Connor’s wife, who is peppy and fun and he loves seeing her and Connor together. After dinner, Ashley excuses herself to go home as the two of them migrate to a nearby pub. They have years to catch up on. 
“Belle tell you about the break-up?”
Trevor scoffs, taking a hefty sip of his beer. “Yeah. Fucking asshole.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth. When she decided to get the fuck out of Michigan, I was relieved.”
“Yeah?”
Connor sighs. “Yeah. I know she says she stayed because of the Hughes wedding, but I also think it’s because she had a hard time letting go. Which, you know, who can blame her, right?” Trevor just nods sympathetically. Connor leans back, eyes flickering elsewhere for a moment. “Thanks, by the way.”
“What for, man?”
“For looking out for her.” There’s a hint of relief in Connor’s tone. “She’s always been independent, I’m sure you remember. And she has a hard time letting people know that she’s struggling, even if we all see it and want to help. Whatever you did, thank you, man. It’s appreciated.”
Trevor bites his tongue. He wants to say that he doesn’t have to thank him for being a good friend, but Connor is adamant. So Trevor just smiles.
…..
The season’s in full swing, but Trevor makes the effort to keep in contact with Belle frequently. Whether it’s sending a meme or calling on his way to practice, Belle becomes a part of his daily life. 
A month in Bedford now and he can tell she’s getting a bit restless. She’s taken up crocheting, which Trevor loves to make fun of her for. Until he finds a little box on his doorstep and opens it to find a crocheted Wild Wing. He hands it on his rearview mirror in the car. He doesn’t fully realize she’s watching his games until he sees a text from her after a game against New Jersey (“Don’t let Jack hang the win over your head too much. That slapshot was insane.”) and that has him grinning much too widely for someone who just lost.
On Thanksgiving Day, after one of the guys’ families hosts a Friendsgiving for the whole team, he’s back at his place on the couch when she calls him. 
Her face comes up on the screen and he has to smile. “Oh. Hey.” she says gently. “I didn’t actually expect an answer.”
“You just caught me. I just got home from Friendsgiving with the team. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
He doesn’t recognize her background. “Where you at?”
“My aunt’s. They’re all watching the game in the basement so I decided to take a break up in the living room.”
“Good food?”
“I’m fucking stuffed,” she admits, making Trevor laugh. “I’m not bad in the kitchen, but nothing beats a good homemade turkey and stuffing.”
“I feel you. So what’s been happening? Haven’t called in a bit.”
“It’s been, like, a week, Trev.”
“Exactly. A bit.”
She rolls her eyes, before leaning back further into the couch. “Actually, I do have news. Kinda.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I, uh, heard back from two people about a job. My old boss from Santa Ana said there’s a spot open for me if I want it. And then my boss in Michigan recommended me to someone in Manhattan, and she called me yesterday and also said I had a job if I wanted it.”
He grins. “Belle. That’s amazing! Congratulations. I’m not surprised though. I know firsthand how damn good you are at your job.”
He sees her blush slightly and he thinks it’s adorable. She twirls her hair around her finger. “Thanks. I’m, yeah. It’s pretty exciting. I’m excited to get back into it again.”
“So. California and New York. Those are two pretty different places.”
She sighs. “Yeah. That’s partially why I called you. Kinda want to get another opinion.”
Before he can stop himself, he snorts. “You’re telling me you haven’t made a pros and cons list already? Don’t think I don’t remember you forcing me to make one when I was deciding if I should go to Avon.”
She tilts her head to the side. “You remember that?”
“There’s not a lot of memories I have from growing up here that don’t have you in them. Of course I remember.”
She bites her lip but Trevor can see the smile peeking through. She clears her throat. “I do. Have a list.”
“So you’ve already made your decision.”
She opens her mouth. Then closes it. “Yes and no. I really do want your opinion, Trevor.”
“Floor’s all yours.”
“I love New York, but I don’t know if I can stay here. If I go back to Santa Ana, is it going to be like Michigan again? I don’t know what Santa Ana is like without Nate.”
“No,” he responds immediately. “It won’t be.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because Santa Ana is yours, Belle. No one else’s. You said it yourself. You loved your time there. If Michigan doesn’t feel like home anymore and New York feels too much like your past self, California is waiting for you.”
A couple seconds of silence before a small chuckle erupts from Belle. “You take a creative writing class at BU or something? That was actually eloquent.”
If he were next to her, he’d shove her off the couch. He just huffs as she keeps laughing. “My point is, is that you can make fresh starts in familiar areas. Plus, not that I have anything to do with this, but Santa Ana is pretty damn close to Anaheim.”
“Knew you’d say that.”
“I mean, can you blame me? ” He leans back on the couch. “I don’t think you’re incapable of moving on. I think, in a way, you aren’t ready to, and that’s why Santa Ana scares you. You have to and are inevitably going to make new memories wherever you are, but you just have to do it. Take the leap. Dive in the deep end. Whatever the fuck they say.”
And well, that came out a bit harsher than Trevor intended, if the slight flinch on Belle’s face is an indication. But she sighs, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Fuck, Trev. Maybe I shouldn’t have quit and stayed in Michigan.”
“Stop,” he says. “We’re not doing that. Now you have to come out to California. Who else is gonna tell you to get your head out of your ass?” His goal is achieved as she laughs. “Seriously though. Whatever choice you make, you have my full support.”
Four days later, he sees that Belle left him a voicemail in the middle of the game. She’s coming to Santa Ana. Trevor starts organizing the guest room.
…..
Three days into the new year and Trevor finds himself running out of morning skate to drive to LAX. Belle’s staying with him while she looks for her own place, at Trevor’s insistence. He told her she can stay as long as she needs. He hopes she takes that offer seriously. 
He rolls up to the arrivals terminal and idles his car, seeing a text from Belle indicating that she’s still waiting to pick up her luggage. He leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath adjusting the baseball cap on his head, bopping along to the latest playlist that he made for this season.
He’s about to do a drum solo on his steering wheel when he spots Belle come out of the double doors, rolling two suitcases, backpack on her back and a tired but genuine smile on her face. He immediately leaps out of the car, running to lift her up in a hug, making her chuckle. 
“Hey Trevor.”
He kisses her cheek before putting her down. “Belle of the Ball. How was your flight?”
“Good. Long,” she reaches to get her suitcases and he waves her off, lifting her suitcases easily into his trunk as she slips into the passenger seat. She sags into the seat and turns to him with a bigger smile as he turns on the engine. “It’s really good to see you.”
He reaches to ruffle her hair to ignore the funny feeling in his stomach. “Missed you too.”
They catch each other up on what’s been happening since the last time they talked, so only really the last week. Once he turns off the highway, he opens the windows and he periodically glances at Belle, who’s leaning her head on the seatbelt strap as the houses blur by. She tucks her hair behind both her ears and Trevor feels his throat start to close up. 
“Hungry?”
“A bit.”
“Enough to wait a bit so I can cook something up?”
She looks toward him in subdued delight. “You cook?”
“Decently, I’d say.”
“What are you gonna make me?”
Whatever you want, he thinks. “I make a pretty good steak.”
“Well, I’m not gonna say no to a personal chef.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he points at her jokingly. She laughs, but honestly, Trevor doesn’t hate the idea. 
Belle’s car got shipped yesterday to Trevor’s place the week prior, so two days later, when Belle starts work and Trevor has to go to morning skate, they leave the house at the same time after cups of coffee and climb into their own cars, Belle wearing a red sleeveless blouse and white jeans and Trevor wearing a Duck t-shirt and shorts. 
Before she can fully get into her car, Trevor runs around and squeezes her, making her squeal. “Good luck today. You’re gonna kill it.”
“Thanks Trevor. Have fun at morning skate.”
“Are you still cool with a couple of the guys coming over for dinner?”
“It’s your house, dude. You can invite over whoever you want.”
“It’s also your home too,” Trevor insists.
She rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not. But of course you can have your friends over. I’m excited to meet them.” She gets in her car, but before she shuts the door, she puts her head out. “Do you mind grabbing some orange juice? I think you’re running out and I drink more of it than you do. Just Venmo request me.”
“Yeah, I gotcha. Won’t Venmo request you though,” she opens her mouth to protest but he just taps the roof of her car twice. “We can talk about splitting stuff later. Bye now!”
“Dick,” she mutters as she shuts her door. He chuckles. He lets her back out of the driveway first.
That night, Mason, Jamie and Leo come over and the four of them are finishing up cooking dinner when Belle walks in. A bit flushed and sweaty, she’s nothing but smiles as she slips off her shoes, putting down her bag and introducing herself. She hugs each of them with a sweet smile before finally reaching Trevor. She hugs him like she did with the other three, but he thinks she holds on a bit longer. He smacks a friendly kiss on her cheek, but he catches Jamie’s eye as she pulls away and he knows he’s going to absolutely be grilled about this tomorrow. 
Dinner’s practically ready and the guys just shoo Belle away to the dining table, Leo pouring out a glass of wine for her. They chat and swap stories over chicken alfredo and salad, and Trevor’s content sitting back and watching two different parts of his life come together, not even jumping in to defend himself that much when she recalls some shenanigans from Jack’s wedding. Sure, they at least know of Jack, Alex, Cole and other various members of the NTDP crew who knew him when he was 17 and stupid, but Belle’s known him since they were children. Whether she — or Trevor even — realizes it or not, Belle and Trevor know each other in the purest way. The way only childhood allows, where filters of judgment, insecurities and expectations cease to exist. 
Even with almost two decades lost in translation, Trevor thinks, in a way, Belle might know him better than most. And he might know her better than most.
Which is why he can sense that an hour after dinner, that Belle is exhausted, so he takes the initiative and the guys immediately pick up on it, bidding Belle goodbye and making her promise that she’ll come to a game soon. Once the door shuts, Trevor goes to start washing the dishes, batting her hand away when she tries to help. 
“Trevor. You cooked. I’ll clean.”
“Nope. Go to take a shower. You’ve had a long day.”
“You have too.”
He waves her off. “Go. I got this.” Her shoulders sag in defeat, but she shoots him a thankful smile and heads to shower. 
He’s just about finishing up the dishes and wiping down the counter when she walks back in, an old Michigan t-shirt and flannel pants on. She has her book in her hands but comes by next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up?”
He puts the kitchen towel back on the hook and swings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her against his side. “I’m sure. Where you unwinding for the night?”
“Probably the living room, if you don’t mind?”
“Belle. My home is your home. I mean it. I’ll probably join you after I shower.”
And he does, coming back in afterwards with only the living room light being on. He sees Belle curled up on the couch, engrossed in her book as one of the candles he rarely uses is lit up on the table in front of her. The air smells faintly of pine. 
“Do you mind if I put on some football? I’ll put the volume low.”
She hums. “Not at all.” With her feet in his lap, blanket tucked over both of them, Trevor thinks that he could get used to this. 
…..
Two weeks later, they’re finishing up their takeout when Belle clears her throat. “So I found a place that seems promising.”
Trevor stiffens. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s about 10 minutes from here. Just renting for now, which isn’t ideal. But it’s so soon, you know? I don’t wanna buy yet.”
Trevor understands the latter part, absolutely. But he’s still stuck on the first part of what she said. “When would you think of moving out?”
“At the start of the month.”
“That’s next week.”
She grimaces, washing their utensils. “Yeah. I just…I want to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”
“Belle,” his voice lowers into a serious tone that doesn’t come out of him that often. It works, because it gets Belle to look at him. “If you want to move out, I can’t stop you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I love having you here. So please don’t…don’t think you have to move out to get out of my hair. Because you don’t. I’d love for you to stay and live with me. Full time.”
Belle swallows, searching for something in his face. “You mean that?” She whispers. 
“Of course I do.” He pushes on. “And you know I’m a shitty liar.”
She chuckles as she finishes washing the dishes. On her way to the bathroom, she stops and just hugs Trevor. He welcomes it with a big smile. “You 100% sure?”
“Yes.”
She pulls away with a smile. “Okay. Your porch is better anyways.” 
Trevor laughs, his mind briefly flashing to an image of this place that had been only his for so long one day becoming theirs, with her throw pillows on the couch and fairy lights on the porch and photos of their friends and loved ones hanging on the walls, some they share, some they don’t.
…..
Trevor fully admits it to himself when Christmas rolls up and Belle refuses to go back to New York. 
(“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone for Christmas, Trev,” she insists with an eye roll. “We’ll start our own tradition here. It’ll be great.”)
He doesn’t even try to hide his fondness as he watches Belle teetering at the edge of a chair to hang up lights around their living room. Some random Christmas playlist he had queued up at Belle’s prodding is playing through his speaker, and he doesn’t think “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” deserves the grin plastered on his face. 
Belle, though. She might deserve it. Be the origin of it, really. 
They make too many cookies that they'll have to gift his teammates and her coworkers just so they don’t end up eating all of them. They have holiday movies on in the background for three days straight, some they pay attention to, some they just leave on for background noise. On Christmas morning, after two cups of coffee on Belle’s end to deal with Trevor’s incessant rambling, they’re sat in the front of their tree. The curtains are drawn, offering minimal lighting into their living room. Yet, the twinkling lights on the tree and around their living room paint Belle in the warmest of lights. The blue fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders only adds to her softness and Trevor has to excuse himself after they exchange presents to go in the bathroom. 
He splashes cold water in his face and stares at himself. He’s fully in fucking love. Shit. 
…..
After that realization, he does the only thing that makes sense to him. Two days later, on the way to practice, he calls Jack. As the phone rings, he thinks that he probably should’ve checked to see if the Devils were playing today, but he also couldn’t be bothered. 
Three rings later, Jack’s scratchy voice is projected through Trevor’s car. “Hello?”
“Hey dude.”
“You’re cutting into my pre-game nap. This better be fucking good.”
“I think I’m in love with Belle.”
Silence. A rustle on Jack’s end, before, “Jesus Christ. I knew Amelie should’ve taken the day off today.”
“Jacky,” Trevor practically whines. “Be helpful.”
“Give me a second to think and I will be,” Trevor stops at a light. “Dude. I mean, not completely out of left field. But in love love? That’s big. Considering you only reconnected, what, three months ago?”
“Yeah, I know. Am I being stupid? And I need you to be real with me and tell me if I am.”
“No.”
“I’m not being stupid?”
“No, you’re not being stupid. Z, I knew I wanted to marry Amelie, like, two months after I met her, and we weren’t even dating yet. You and Isabelle have known each other since you were kids.”
“Yeah, but we lost touch for over a decade.”
“Okay and? You spent a good amount of time together when you went back home, right? And she lives with you now, right?”
“She was the only one around at home, and we’ve been living together for maybe a month.”
“Dude, are you trying to convince yourself you are in love with her or that you’re not?”
Trevor shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. Right.”
He hears Jack let out a sigh. “I know you’ve been burned in the past with relationships and stuff, but this is a good thing, okay? She’s a great person. Try not to freak out about it so much.”
“And do what instead?”
“I don’t know,” Jack says sarcastically. “Maybe tell her?”
“Absolutely not,” Trevor says. 
“Why not?”
Trevor’s about to tell him that Belle literally was supposed to be married a year ago but clamps his mouth shut. He’s not sure if Jack knows and that’s not his story to tell. “It’s just not a good idea.”
“Lame.”
“I’m gonna hang up and call literally anyone else.”
“Do it,” Jack challenges the empty threat, before softening. “Do you have any idea if she likes you back?”
“No,” Trevor says. “But I also haven’t been thinking about that because I don’t wanna…scare her off? I know she likes me as a friend, otherwise we wouldn’t be living together. But that’s probably all there is to it.”
“Maybe,” Jack says. “Or maybe you’re making assumptions. I’m not saying you have to do anything now, but you’re not stupid, Trev. Especially with stuff like this. And hey, at least you’re in love with someone as awesome as she is. Ooh, can you imagine you two getting married? It would be full circle!”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Trevor says as Jack chuckles. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”
“Anytime. And Z?” Trevor hums to tell Jack to go on. “Don’t beat yourself up so much. You don’t know until you ask.”
Those last two sentences echo through Trevor’s head for the rest of the day, even when he’s at practice and going through the drills. After so many years in the league, he usually always can leave his thoughts at the entrance of the rink and just focus on hockey. But not today. He can tell Troy wants to ask something, but he refrains. It’s not like a distracted Trevor appears often, and Trevor’s thankful his teammate doesn’t push. 
When the front door swings open that night and Belle calls out her greeting, Trevor is coming back from being outside the last few hours, where he sat and listened to the birds and just stared at the grass, lost in thought. 
Then Belle comes into view, gray sweater over a cream satin dress, tote bag on her shoulder and a tired but bright smile on her face, and Trevor’s not lost anymore. 
In fact, as she slides over to him in her socks across the hardwood floor and hugs him in greeting, immediately talking about what they should make for dinner tonight, Trevor’s never felt more sure of where he is and where he should be. 
…..
Trevor’s on a long roadie during Valentine’s Day, but he makes sure that he delivers flowers to the house before Belle has to get to work. He had spent an ungodly amount of time selecting which bouquet he wanted to send, and Jamie, the saint that he is, had only blinked when he saw what Trevor was looking at on his phone on the bus home from the game before Trevor could lock his phone. 
Imagine if it was Troy. Or Mason. Or fucking Leo, who’s just as much a menace as he was the first day Trevor met him. Everyone loves him and thinks he’s a darling, but Trevor knows better.
He ended up choosing a bouquet from Fresh Sends because the packaging looks sick with the newspaper and the bright colored box and the reviews are all high. Without hesitation, he had picked the largest bouquet, which he knew if Belle knew how much it cost, would probably kick him out of the house or something. But she doesn’t ever need to find out. On the bus, he had hastily typed out a custom note.
Belle, 
Happy Valentine’s Day!! Wish we could be watching shitty rom-coms together but I hope this makes up for it. Thankful to have you in my life again. See you when I get back!
Z
It’s not overly romantic, but he can’t exactly confess his love for her over a note when he’s across the country. If he ever confesses, he’s gonna tell her in person, not hide behind a note like a coward. 
He wakes up on February 14 in a hotel room with a bleary smile as he wipes the sleep away from his face. 
Belle of The Ball
*picture of the flowers*
Trevor!!! these are so so beautiful thank you
You really didn’t have to
Good luck against the Rangers tonight! And tell your parents (and mine) that i said hello❤️
Trevor nets two goals and an assist. He’s on top of the world. 
…..
He’s pleasantly surprised to see that he has an incoming call from Amelie on his way home from the rink a week later. 
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Hughes.”
Amelie chuckles. “Quinn’s gonna be devastated.”
“Quinner has nothing on you.”
“Flatterer,” she says dryly. 
“What’s up?”
“Jack told me. About you and Isabelle.”
Trevor almost snorts. When he first met Amelie, way back when they were in their early twenties, she had been way more hesitant on giving her opinion among Jack’s oldest friends. But with time, her sarcasm and vivacity came out, and while Trevor had been initially surprised and amused, it made sense. Anyone who would choose to spend their life with Jack Hughes has to be able to hold their own purely to rival his constant need for attention.
“Did he now?”
“You’re the worst. I’m not gonna tell you the same stuff he did, which by the way, I’m actually pretty impressed by. From the recap he gave me, he actually said some useful stuff. But I will say something that he forgot to tell you.”
“And what is that?”
“That you’re wonderful, Trevor.”
That’s not at all what he was expecting to come out of the photographer’s mouth. All he can muster out is an “Oh?”
“Yeah. And obviously Jack believes the same thing. You know that. But you’re such a lovely guy, Trevor. I’ve known that since the day we met, don’t get me wrong. But I-I’ve talked to Isabelle a few times since the wedding, and she always brings you up. And it’s always positive.”
“What does this have to do with my feelings for her?”
“Do you feel like maybe you feel like you’re not good enough for her? Is that partially why you’re hesitating on telling her? Take out the fact that she was in a long relationship before and broke off an engagement.”
He blinks. “She told you about the engagement thing?”
“Yeah. She came out to Jersey to grab dinner with Jack and I, like, two weeks before she moved to California and told us then. That’s not the point.”
He doesn’t remember Belle mentioning that. But like Amelie said, not the point. “I-I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Trevor. You’re one of the best people I know.”
“That can’t be true,” he tries to protest. 
“But it is,” Amelie presses on. “You’re loyal. You’re funny. You have the ability to make anyone feel comfortable, even if you just met them. Your infectious energy elevates every room you walk into. You care deeply about everyone in your life. You were the first of Jack’s friends to be so openly kind to me and you continued to be kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it.” 
“I’m loud. Harsh. Always has to be on the go or I get bored. Life of the party maybe and a fun time usually, but that’s it.”
Amelie scoffs. “Respectfully, shut the fuck up. Okay, you’re all of those things, so what? You think she doesn’t already know? She probably knows better than any of us. I get being hesitant to do anything because she’s maybe on a different page, I get that. But it’s not because you’re not good enough. Get that shit out of your head.”
Trevor has to laugh, both at the abruptness of this call and unbridled honesty from Amelie’s voice. “I’m not gonna lie. Getting chewed out by my best friend’s wife wasn’t on the list of things I expected today.”
“If you think I’m chewing you out now, you’re lucky Clementine doesn’t know about this yet.”
Trevor actually shudders at the possibility of Clementine Sandoval (well, Clementine Hischier as of two years ago but old habits die hard), lecturing him about this. He still remembers Clem’s lectures she would give Quinn, Jack and Luke when they were all in Michigan. They would usually be over the phone, since she was already out in California for school by then, but even at 17, Trevor knew she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Who else in the world, besides Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, can somehow lecture all three Hughes brothers successfully in one breath?
“She doesn’t?”
“Eh, usually she would. But she’s in her last trimester and Nico would kill me if I stressed her out more.”
And well, Trevor thinks that’s fair enough. He quiets again, thinking. “You think we could be a good match? Belle and I?”
“Yes,” Amelie says with no hesitation. “And I’m not going to tell you why, because I’m pretty sure deep down, you already know.” 
He kinda hates that she’s right. Damn, is he this easy to read? He hangs up, but not before promising to give her a call more often. 
As they’re leaving practice, Jamie nudges him with his shoulder. “How’s Isabelle?”
“She’s good. She has a wedding in Santa Monica this weekend so I haven’t seen her that much this week.” 
“She a good roommate?”
Trevor smirks and elbows him lightly. “Better than you ever were.”
Jamie’s jaw drops, indignant. “Hey! I was a great roommate, thank you very much.”
“You were, you were. Nah, she’s great. We did Christmas just the two of us and it was really nice.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Fuck off, Jimmy.”
“I’m just asking! She chose not to fly home and stayed here with you instead. Ever think about what that could mean?”
Trevor has thought about it a lot recently, actually. But Jamie doesn’t need to know that. He lets out an uncommitted noise, but the look on Jamie’s face tells him that he’s not fooling anyone. Least of all, one of his dearest friends. 
Trevor needs to tell her soon. Or get over it. 
…..
Trevor never thought to really ask Belle if she wanted to go to a game, which is weird, because why wouldn’t he want a friend out in the stands to cheer him on? But he also knows that Belle wouldn’t be afraid to just ask if she wanted to go, and that her ideal time to unwind after work isn’t necessarily to go into a rowdy arena. She’s perfectly content snuggling in on the couch and watching the game on TV.
But when he mentions that Cole and the Canadiens are coming into town to play, she perks up. During the whole wedding weekend, Trevor could tell that she got pretty comfortable with Cole. Which, to Trevor, makes complete sense. Cole has the ability to make friends quickly and genuinely anywhere he goes. He leaves a ticket on the counter before heading to morning skate, as well as a note allowing her permission to raid his closet for any Ducks merch she so desires to wear. 
The game is a fun battle that goes into OT, but Leo gets the game winner with an assist from Trevor and the Honda Center goes nuts. Trevor has plans to grab dinner with Cole and Belle, and he’s in good spirits during media before he meets up with Cole and goes outside to where he told Belle to meet them. 
The boys see her before she sees them. Belle’s leaning against the wall of the arena on her phone, one of his jerseys tucked into black jeans and a black blazer completing the look. Cole calls out her name and she immediately puts her phone away with a smile, letting Cole hug her tightly with a chuckle. Trevor trails behind, watching the scene in happiness. Trevor tells Belle where he made dinner reservations, and she gets into her own car to follow them. 
As Trevor watches Cole and Belle talk at dinner, it’s overwhelming, his love for her. Cole’s pulling out some old-school stories from way back during their program days and Belle’s absolutely loving it, pulling out some of her own stories from her college days and Trevor feels so fucking lucky. There’s a particular thing that Cole says that has her coughing up her water and she’s laughing so hard and Trevor feels so fucking fond. 
Tomorrow, he promises himself. He has to tell her tomorrow.
…..
He doesn’t tell her tomorrow. But in his defense, he has to go on a road trip and she’s busy at work. 
Somehow, after dinner with Cole, he had gone to sleep earlier than she did but had woken up before her to a short but sweet note on the kitchen counter. In her cursive, he smiles at her words. 
Trev, 
Thank you for dinner and a fun game <3 Wanted to tell you tonight but by the time I got out of the bathroom you were already in bed (old man). Good luck on your road trip to wherever!! 
Love, 
Belle
He takes the note and folds it carefully, tucking it into his wallet. 
…..
At the end of the day, he ends up just blurting it out. 
He comes home from the road trip to the smell of something absolutely delicious floating through the house. He peeks his head around the corner to see Belle flittering around the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. The oven beeps and Trevor decides to make his presence known. 
“Smells good in here.”
Belle looks over her shoulder and he realizes she’s wearing one of his Ducks hoodies he must’ve had lying around. She beams. “Hey! Welcome home. I felt like making some good old grilled cheese and tomato soup with some roasted vegetables because I guess we need those. Don’t tell your coaches if this fucks up your diet-”
“I love you.” 
And well, shit, because that’s definitely not how he pictured this going. For a split second, he thinks he imagined it. But Belle freezes, her back towards him, and he has no idea what to do.
After what seems like a lifetime, she turns off the stove and turns around. “What?”
Trevor walks forward, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that’s okay! I really don’t want this to change anything between us because I love our friendship. But I-I had to say it because it’s driving me crazy not saying it.”
“Trevor-”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Y-you’re such an important part of my life and I really hope this didn’t fuck everything up-”
Belle rushes towards him to put her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to stop his hands from shaking, staring at his feet. He’s breathing really fast, but Belle’s orange blossom perfume and touch calms him down ever so slightly. 
“You good?”
He swallows roughly. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly. He gets the courage to look at her face. He sees her smile and he can’t help but smile too. She clears her throat. “I-I thought it was clear, but I guess I’m out of practice. I feel the same way, Trevor. I like you a lot. Maybe not…love. Yet. B-but you’ve become my favorite person. And these last few months have been so…lovely. I just-I haven’t said anything because I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”
“That’s okay,” Trevor rushes to assure. Because holy shit, she likes him back? This was farther than he thought he was going to get. He chuckles lightly. “I…shit. Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like me like that.”
“Trevor,” she trails her hands down his arms to grab both of his hands. “Of course I do.”
“Oh,” he says softly. 
Belle’s eyes water, and Trevor immediately feels the surge to make her feel better. “But I don’t know if I’m ready, Trev. I don’t know when I will be. And I can’t be the asshole and ask you to wait.”
“Why not?” Trevor challenges.
Belle looks at him incredulously. “Because that’s unfair.”
“Well too bad. Because I’m not gonna listen to you.”
“What?”
“As long as you need. Take your time. I mean it. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I promise.”
She bites her lip, “Trevor, you can’t possibly promise something like that.”
“I can, actually. And I will.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it, before laughing. She squeezes her eyes shut as he places his hands on her cheeks to cup her face. “Okay.”
He raises an eyebrow playfully. “You’re not gonna fight me?”
She shakes her head. “You’ve never been the kind of person to back down.”
He laughs and he so wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t, instead just placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready?”
“If you’re still around,” she jokes. 
Trevor grins, his heart growing four times its size. He feels like it might explode out of his chest. “I’ll always be around for you.”
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