#she always had someone better than her “own very best friend!” ive always been a second choice and always will. i know that thanks to her

[wandagcre]

hii ive been down bad for kate bishop fics lately 😓😓. can i request a oneshot of dom intersex kate bishop just fucking reader but shes just as needy as reader? oh and maybe some choking and breeding cause why not 🤭🤭 thank youu!

better than the rest | kate bishop 🔞

(Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader)

Your partner as of late called it quits with you. Kate was concerned, insisting to check up on you. With the warmth she always had provided, you can't help but think of other ways she can comfort you.

WARNING: top!kate, kate has a penis, bottom!reader, self-loathing (r), p in v, unprotected sex, car sex, choking, breeding - not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 4.6k

“I think it’s for the best if we break up.”

Was what your partner said while hesitant to meet your eyes. It snapped you back into consciousness that your gaze on them fluttered rapidly in wonder. Yes, undeniably, there was a hint of sadness that hit you. After all, you dated them for half a year, it was… stable. No, rather it was stagnant, so you supposed this was bound to happen.

However, with your silence and clenched fist, your now ex-partner mistook it as deep despair.

They carefully placed their hand atop yours across the table. “I’m sorry–”

“You don’t have to be,” You cut them off, sighing in resignation. The acceptance somewhat came in quickly to your surprise. “I do not want to weigh you down at all, especially when it comes to your happiness. I-I… truly understand where you’re coming from.”

A faint smile appears on their face. You return the expression, wanting to ease the tension. You wanted a civil conversation where they could easily say the thoughts that they might have been withholding. You had your own as well. From there, the two of you discuss what went wrong – you simply drifted away from each other, inevitably with the long distance as another obstacle. The infatuation stage didn’t last – your relationship was too casual for someone who should be lovers. 

As the conversation ran, the air felt lighter. You didn’t realize how much you missed them but this further confirmed that you and now current ex, worked better as friends. The notion of breakup was mutual and amicable between you two and turned out better than you both hoped for. 

What caught you off-guard as you parted ways, was how your ex mentioned a certain friend of yours.

“Say hi to Kate for me! That girl is always on your rescue.” They gleefully say with a pat on your back and a knowing smile.

You froze for a moment at the sudden mention of the Avenger but managed to form a cohesive reply. “Sure. I’ll make sure she doesn’t send pitchforks or arrows on your way.”

“That’s very much appreciated!”

The two of you ended up giggling as you waved goodbye and a part of you remained stunned. Your heart was pounding, as though a dormant thought had come back to life.

It has been a week since you were available on the market again and you received mixed responses. You wanted to laugh, at how some disapproved and agreed that you and your ex were simply different. When you rebutted that technically, opposites attract, your close ones were quick to say: totally inapplicable to this case!

Your family knew how you’ve grown close to Kate; and seriously, they kept mentioning the woman! You lost count of how many times you’ve become flustered each time they lumped you and shrugged the thought that maybe you two had a great chemistry together. But in all seriousness, things were easy with Kate – the archer somewhat managed to juggle you in her time, between Avenging and college, your dynamic was far from you and your ex. All it took was the fateful encounter you guys had at a hardware store you part-timed in, attending to her questions, and Kate charming you with her clumsy rambling self. 

Why do you keep comparing her now with your ex? Screw these insinuations, now you cannot stop thinking about the other possibilities.

And speaking of the devil, the archer finally had her well-deserved free time. Said through the phone that the aliens and gods can handle the potential storm for a while, to which you were surprised to hear, knowing that she took Avenging duties seriously close to her heart. Unbeknownst to you, all it took from Kate was your break-up news and it immediately filled her with concern. She was far too occupied even if it was only a few days, setting aside her feelings for you, Kate wondered how you were holding up.

“Get in sweetcakes.” Kate hollered from her rolled-up car window as you waited in front of the hardware store. Your shift just ended. You shook your head at how corny it was, although it was endearing enough to make your insides fuzzy. 

“Not if you call me that one more time.”

It only occurred to you that it was a bad idea as soon as you saw the glint of mischief in Kate’s eyes, hands on the side of her mouth, ready to scream.

“Sweetcakes! Sweetcakes, Sweet–”

“Stop embarrassing me, Jesus.” You get inside her car, rubbing your palms together to warm you down. Kate chuckled at your feigned display of annoyance. It was certainly her favorite pastime.

The drizzle had stopped. The familiar afternoon glow wasn’t there, instead replaced with grey skies, giving a gloomy ambiance in the chilly weather. Yet, it barely affected the natural state of Kate’s aura – her bright disposition and smile giving you warmth.

Blood rushed on your cheeks and ears as you realize you’ve been taking quick peeks to your friend’s side profile.

Kate cleared her throat, “Actually, I prefer to be called Kate.” You give her another displeased look. “Fine, I relent. So are we going to talk about it now?” Kate shook her head sideways, urging you to elaborate. She leaned comfortably on the driver’s seat, prepared for a long story time before you guys hit off the parking lot. You were casual – too casual – as though this was another Monday for you. 

Break-ups aren’t normally this way, right?

“What was what? Can’t I get a hi first?”

“Hi.” Kate says unamused. “Now, I was worried the whole time. I know we’ve talked on the phone but I’m not fully convinced ‘til I hear from you.”

“Aw, so you were thinking of me?” You tease Kate who’s cheeks flamed up yet you did not notice as she pushed you off playfully. 

She groaned. “Come on. I’m sure break-ups are commonly followed by crying and drinking afterward. Not… this!” Kate gestures at you, hands flailing at your almost poker face. “Or have you recovered already? Because that’s either an impressive world record or a bunch of bullshit to me.”

You chuckle at the unending questions being thrown at each other. Now you figured out how you sounded odd. 

For the sake of her inner peace, you decide to let it out. “Look, Kate, it was meant to end at some point for us. I mean, when was the last time I hung out with them? I don’t see them a lot, we don’t feel the spark anymore. I’m almost always hanging out with you. There isn’t any bad blood. I guess we just fell out – not compatible anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” You look at her straight to her ocean eyes that you love. Wait, what? “I don’t… I don’t think I’m missing out on the relationship department because, in the first place, I haven’t been getting any action.”

Kate awkwardly chuckled at your words, tugging on the collar of her shirt. 

“Uh, that I cannot fix. I’m sorry?”

You laugh at the archer’s response. Taking a good look over Kate’s outfit, you see that she’s particularly dressed up today – indicating that she had business to attend over her family’s company. She wore a black suit patterned with an embroidered burnt orange design. She was a treat in your eyes.

Were you shamelessly checking her out?

Yes, very much so.

Kate, however, wasn’t as clueless as you thought. She lets you and plans on teasing you about it. Even if it was out of curiosity or an innocent admiration, the archer wouldn’t tell you – at least for a couple more hundred years – how she loved being the subject of your attention. It didn’t help that your being single again had spurred her mind on the gutters and honestly made you more desirable at the moment. However, Kate refused to delve into them right now – out of respect as your friend first.

"Would you be interested in hooking up with me?” You sultry uttered.

The air within the car felt thick and a pin drop could almost be heard. You shook your head in disappointment to yourself – God, of course, this wasn’t very proper of you to ambush Kate like that. Her silence was very telling. You caught the archer real good, flabbergasted, and can barely formulate a proper word out of her pretty mouth. Nodding at this, you understood that it was too much – forward and probably disrespectful.

You start buckling your seatbelt.

“No, no I get it. Don’t worry, Kate. Let’s just get out of here and–”

Kate was quick to shake her head in disagreement, "No baby, you don’t understand,” The archer’s voice sounded desperate. She did not even realize how the endearment smoothly left her lips. “You're all I wanted! But that doesn't matter right now, you just got out of a relationship–"

“–I told you it wasn’t built to last. I guess it’s a talent of mine, I can’t keep things to stay.” You say out of attempted humor, although your mind had flipped into a different perspective now, the thought was very unsettling. 

Can’t you?

"It’s normal! Nothing goes perfect on the first few tries,” Kate sputtered out, desperate to provide an ounce of solace. “Just like with cooking, we burn stuff, end up ordering takeout. Or- or me with my things. You know how many times my messy self can misplace a lot of things.” Especially my hoodies. I swear they keep disappearing on me, the thought suddenly coming into light to Kate. Whatever, she hoped that in a way, she managed to lighten up the conversation. 

One thing about Kate is that her rambling and playful nature combined somewhat grows into this charismatic mess. A giggle almost erupts out of you but clearly, there is another time and place for that.

“Well, you do keep losing your keys.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re notorious for parading around while wearing The Ronin’s suit and coming back to your apartment.”

“Ouch. Not my brightest moment I’ll admit. But at least you’re getting my point!”

Finally registering her words, you rolled your eyes now good-heartedly to Kate’s relief. "And if you’re wondering about your hoodies, no they are not lost. I may or may not have some of them.” You admit your crime and Kate comically jutted her head closer to you in shock. It’s like you read her mind. “Not bad for a pep talk, Bishop. But I guess we’re not fucking, are we?”

Now the last sentence had Kate gripping her seat, not expecting your unfiltered spew of words. Would it be bad if she were to admit that her cock twitched at the thought of having you?

But your comfort comes first. She worried that a speck of insecurity could have been plaguing you, wanting to ease that more than ever. While you peered at the window seat, the archer exhaled, scooting to your side – at least the most she could, anyway.

"Give me your hand." Kate's elbow rested in the middle of the car compartment, where her jug is confined, her palm extended for an invitation for you to hold. "Come on, you big baby.”

You take the chance, petulantly placing yours atop hers.

"What now, gonna take the rejection easy on me?" You raise an eyebrow, looking away from her. "Or is it another one of your pranks? Kate, I'm telling you I can take rejections like a big girl despite your disagreement. It was a dumb proposition. Just forget it." You try to act unphased but the grumble gives you out. The feeling slowly sinks you further into humiliation.

Why would you ask your good friend for a good time?

Kate feels the laughter begging to erupt out of her chest. Still, she doesn't, knowing that you might take it the wrong way. God, you were so adorable. "You're not getting it, always so stubborn."

You feel her squeezing your hand. 

"Yada, yada. Just drive, Kate."

Kate's hands remained interlaced with yours even with your curt reply. Eyes curious over you. Even with your mind far away, they have always been so expressive and raw which makes it tenfold difficult to look directly – all tender and equally needy as you, only if you took the chance and looked.

She admits timidly, "I want to. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment just to kiss you. But I cannot afford to be your second choice, just because it is convenient. I don't want it to be a casual thing!" Her voice bounced off a pitch-higher.

You bit your lip in contemplation. Kate doesn't take her eyes on you nor disrupt the short comfortable silence that lingered. Her hands come to thread through your tresses, admiring you out in the open now.

How could you not have seen it earlier?

It would have saved you a lot more time. One that couldn't have gone to waste. Kate has always been worth your while. Meanwhile, the said woman was stunned. Kate's throat was almost caught in a lump, in disbelief that she got to pour an ounce of her confession. She can't help but rub your sides soothingly – in hopes of calming your turbulent mind.

You unexpectedly move away from your seat, determined to plop yourself on Kate's lap. You swung your legs atop her and a tremendous surprise struck the archer; she could not grasp the uncharted territory being crossed. 

Having you so intimately? Kate was going to combust.

"Huh. It's a good thing that I specifically don't intend it to be a one-time thing." You place your forefinger on Kate's plush lips. "No, I don't expect this to be a casual thing either. I'm sorry if I didn't see the signs earlier..." 

Her ocean eyes had a glint of hope, her heart thrumming madly at the next words that would leave your lips. "So you're saying...?"

"Take what's yours, Bishop." You moved closer, arms dangled between her headrest. You comb through her jet black hair, her attention hopelessly hooked onto you. Inching further to her ear, you husk out, "Do me like you mean it."

She sharply inhaled. 

“I’ll make it worth your time.”

You answer her with a tease, wiggling your hips forward so slightly, her ocean eyes melting at the motion.

She takes one last look to find traces of an ounce of possible regret and retreats from your offer, only to see the unadulterated need in the swirls of your darkening eyes.

Kate's grasp over your hips tightened mouth agape over your affirmation. Her cock was no longer flaccid, instead, it started to strain through her jeans. You feel her and your cunt throbs madly. She was clutching over the layers of your clothing, now eager to take them all off. All she ever craved was to worship you, for you to finally notice her – to take you as she means it – just as your green light urged her to do so.  

Both your lips clashed, tilting on the opposite side, excited to get a taste of what both of you were missing out on. It was no longer as hesitant and awkward as the chaste kiss that you initiated a few minutes ago. You taste the faint traces of her favorite coffee that caused you to smile. The cramped space was overwhelmingly filled with tension and adrenaline; Kate rode along as you did and happily explored your mouth – her tongue swiping sensually along your lower lip and catching you in another bruising kiss again, to which you enthusiastically let out a guttural moan at.

"I’m so drunk on you right now..." Kate muttered, her voice dropping a few octaves. You ground harder in response, moving languidly against her as the kiss continued. 

Her scent was alluring more than ever. You claw at the back of her neck, fingers tangled in her silky tresses. “Then, consider this definitely worth the hangover.” You moan sultrily in Kate’s open mouth - both of your sounds crashing.

Lips bruising and breathless at this point, Kate reluctantly pulled away to adjust her car seat. It was hilarious and endearing for you how she kept smiling between your kisses and the archer kept on chasing for your lips. Even with her numbing lips, she scattered open mouthed kisses all over your jaw and neck, your whole body set ablaze.

“No backing out now.” Kate returns the equally seductive tone, her vulnerability poorly hidden underneath her assertive act.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,”

“Good.”

You feel Kate clawing the fabric of your shirt underneath the bunched up jacket of yours. the way her nails dug desperately had made you buckle over her lap, bodies pressed more than ever, making the two of you moan. 

"You feel so good against me," Kate murmured breathlessly. "I can't get enough of this." she confesses with much candor, eyes gleaming at you that it sends shivers down your spine.

You were plopped down on her lap, swollen lips, and you wanted nothing but her. Kate cannot express enough how her heart feels like it was going to burst out of her ribcage.

"Is that so?" The husk and rawness in her voice made your stomach flip, breaking out a small smile out of you. "I bet you regret it..." your hands that no longer cradled her jaw found their way instead to graze downwards underneath her fancy suit, nails digging on Kate's fine abdomen. "Regret how you said no to me earlier."

The firm muscles grow tense under your touch, making you smirk. you had the Bishop woman successfully loss at words. She only hummed, seemingly lost and busied herself through littering your jaw and neck with more kisses, her teeth inevitably scraping at your skin.

And Kate? She's more than willing to be under your hypnotizing spell.

Kate soon broke the barriers and went her way to claw on your bare skin. The obvious choice for you was to discard the jacket that was nothing more than an obstacle. You wanted to feel her, craving for so much more. Although, you find yourself smiling a little with how the archer was hesitant to break the kiss as the inevitable parting in the process came - Kate chasing your lips - both of you having red and swollen ones from a thirst induced by a dance. 

You're riled up and so is Kate. more so, she's afraid to break the momentum. Afraid that you would snap out of this haze anytime, so she savors each second – the shared warmth, the charged tension that drives her crazy, and your lips heavenly against hers – better than she ever dreamed of. 

When your hands begin to tug and unbuckle her belt, Kate looks at you with her ocean eyes skeptically.

"You wanna go all the way?" Kate rasps out and fuck, you have never heard of something more attractive than this. "I know you're- you might be still processing the break up. I don't wanna..." 

"Kate, listen to me." Your eyes pierce against hers, hands tangled on strands of her disheveled jet black waves, gently tugging and making the archer groan low at the sensation. "Among all the things I mourned and doubted for today, this - us - is not one of them. So yes, I want this. I need you."

Kate took a deep sigh. "As long as you're-"

"-long is what I want, it’s underneath your pants, and you're keeping it away from me. Unless you're backing out now on me, Bishop." 

Her perfect teeth clutched against her bottom lip as you've managed to unzip and free her cock out of her boxers. Your mouth agape in shock, heavens, she was big as you expected. How would it fit? You witnessed her member grow erect under your needy gaze. Kate has no other choice but to moan pathetically as you hold her cock.

"S-shit! Baby, be careful!" Kate hissed low, although her touch continued to relay the want coursing through her.

"Sorry," you sheepishly say and regardless, it dawns a stupid smile over Kate's features. 

It's rough and slightly painful on Kate's end, making her turn red sporadically. You take pity and spit on her cock to lubricate it, the stroke and twists slow at first. The action made her lower stomach and appendage twitch, with her foreskin being tugged in your grasp, Kate uttered a string of soft moans, all putty in your hands quite literally. 

Sue her, she's over the moon right now.

You bite your lip. "I can't take this anymore, I need you inside of me." 

Your spontaneity and darkening gaze continues to make Kate's head spin. She loved being the subject of your desire. Fuck, it was the hottest thing she has witnessed yet. 

"Do you now?" Kate chimed, having a palmful of your breasts through the shirt you're wearing. your eyes rolled back. "Unzip your jeans for me."

When you moved your body up, you failed to measure the distance between the roof of Kate's car and your head, making you bump your head in the process. you muttered a soft ow - heat settling on your cheeks. Kate's gaze however, did not waver, and it brought a pearly smile on her face as she found you endearing.

"Do I have to do it for you baby?" Kate murmured, her hands gripping over your waist.

You shook your head timidly. "No no, I can do it,"  

"That's my girl." The archer scratched her nails light on your stomach, a moan inevitably escapes your mouth. You feel her thumb teasing underneath your bra.

It was the push you needed, then on it was almost smooth sailing as you deftly unbuttoned your jeans. Gravitating to Kate's touch, your own body was attuned and glided for more. Her blue eyes never left yours nor her ministrations that descend over your breast and waist faltered. Your heart pounded madly at such intensity.

Your playful ways shifted back, maneuvering through the limited space - it was a miracle for your slightly trembling hands. You were glistening enough to make Kate's throat grow dry.

As your eyes peer down, Kate's cock felt intimidating, with a girth and length that none of your previous experiences could rival. Not to mention her precum looked tempting. 

All that is left is for you to lower down and so you let your impulsive thoughts win; plunge in. 

Your face curled in the unexpected stretch. Maybe you shouldn't have done that.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god—slow down!" Kate whisper-yelled, her mind flitting between panic and pleasure, not knowing where to succumb first. "You should've warned me first! I don't even have a condom rolled up yet," Her grip over your hips reprimanding you as it was almost bruised; the archer tried to carry some of your weight, in hopes to alleviate the burning sensation.

"Sue me, did you really have to be so–" You groaned, one of your palms against the car window for support, eyes shut in semi-frustration. Kate is fucking huge and it was vivid how your cunt swallows her in. "It looked nice and ready, can you blame me?" 

The breathy heaving both of your breaths barely ceased. Fully settled in Kate's lap and your cunt insanely and sync pulsating with her cock inside of you, she gave you an unamused look. She gave your breasts a firm squeeze, kneading the supple flesh and tugging on your nipples particularly hard – enjoying how your head lolled, eyes droopy in the erotic sensation.

"If you're going to keep playing like that I'm gonna need to take over. You've been naughty enough for me." The archer sultry says, nipping at your clavicle.

"Kate, what—"

She hoists you an inch, only to thrust you back to her cock. "Always taking what you want, doing as you please. I'll have to teach you some manners next time baby. But right now… I will do as you said; buried deep in you.”

Kate slid her hand on the flesh of your bare ass cheek and gave it a light spank. Reveling and lost in how she fit inside of you, your head lolled in the stack of pleasure. Your body practically molded and moved along the archer languidly, feeling her front against yours.

Fuck, how can she fit in the depths you've never explored before? The squelching sounds of your wetness grew and filled the car, erotic to your ears. The vehicle no doubt rocking along the motion and build up that Kate has been brewing.

Your hands loosely enveloped between the driver seat's headrest, upper body slumped and now chest-to-chest against Kate. Even with her unwavering thrusts, you feel the heel of her palm firm around the side of your neck, along with her thumb applying pressure – inches away from your jugular notch – squeezing you.

No, Kate was choking you.

Eyes flutter shut, you respond with enthusiasm. "Yes, oh, yes!" 

"You look so beautiful right now..." Kate dazedly confessed. Her hands moved to your lower back for support. Opening your eyes in curiosity, you see her half-lidded eyes – your favorite ones – softening. "No, you always do. I can't believe this,"

The peppered kisses on your shoulder and above your chest were spread out. Kate's breathing was gruff, you found it adorable as you were well-acquainted with her focused state. Her words dripped with much honesty that it pierced right into your heart, her name already indented there.

Meeting Kate halfway, your hips continued to gyrate along and your palm gently cradled her by the cheeks. You kissed her fervently, filled with a newfound passion. Kate was surprised but fully snapped out, returning the same energy. This was an enlightenment; another step that both of you are eager to explore together.

Your eyes welled up; both in joy and the fruition of her lustful hard work.

Her hips fluidly doing an upward thrusts to squeeze all the juices worth out of you, the archer makes sure that she's punctuating her punishment for you. There was barely a resistance anymore that your walls practically accommodated the entirety of Kate's cock. Although the stretch lingered, adding to the build you wanted.

"This sight? M-mm! Kate, you- you better make it count. Take all of me." 

Your jaw went slack as your dirtiest fantasies are being overfilled with Kate's grip and her determined grunts. Your clit throbbed and you took it upon you to rub it. She whimpered upon witnessing the act. Kate swats your hand away, pad of her fingers applying more pressure against your nub.

You feel Kate's mouth and teeth nibbling on your pebbled nipples this time and being filled to the brim with her words, you don't know if she knew you already came.

Kate knew. Her eyes flicked between your face and saw your pretty tummy, how it twitched, the bulge of her member appearing at each pound. Her trousers were tale-telling too as it was ridiculously soaked.

A shrill was pulled out of your throat. Kate continued to thrust, "Gonna fill you up until your walls are painted white. You wanted this right? Then I'll give it to you, baby," You see her veins bulging out of her neck, the archer completely flustered as she releases thick ropes of her cum inside of you. You were still throbbing at the fill and the aftershocks. The warmth was overwhelming, from your walls and Kate's cum coating you, both of you felt slightly numbed. She kissed and marked you underneath your jaw and you hummed softly.

"Where did that come from?" You murmur while an inch away from Kate's plump lips.

"Guess you bring out the best in me."

You giggle at her silly self coming back and comb through her jet black strands, scratching at her nape. She lets out a soft moan. You're satisfied with how ruined her suit was almost unsalvageable with its creases and wetness.

“Well shit. I think we’re banned forever in this parking lot.” Kate jokes, breathless, causing you to softly chuckle. She’s never been more thankful for the invention of tinted car windows.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop smut #kate bishop x fem reader #kate bishop female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #lesbian #wlw #intersex!kate #requested

[zhounauts]

SYNOPSIS kim minji was privileged. and she was your best friend. born to the top percent, she was born to go to decelis academy, a school built by and for the elite. yet she wasn't. you were instead. and you were attending as her. GENRE mystery, rich kids au!, slight romance, angst FEATURING YN LN, MEMBERS of NEW JEANS, MEMBERS of ENHYPEN, MEMBERS of IVE, AND MORE WC 3.45k WARNINGS cursing, lying , mentions of food, death A/N VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY experimental fic, lmk how it is

THE BEGINNING OF IT ALL —

elite.

that was what decelis academy was. an academy built by and for only the most privileged and elite in the entire world. money, power, and status ran deep in the school, evident in its gold embellishments on the wall, crystal chandeliers and the tall, high ceilings.

decelis was known world-wide, a prestigious school for academics, sports, art, and everything else you could think of.

and it was where you were now enrolled, taking the place of your best friend kim minji who had run away.

decelis was a school meant for only the elite and privileged. that was rule number 1, and you had already broken it.

july had always been hot and humid, the sun blaring down onto you, not faltering. but this year, it seemed even hotter than before. it felt like the entire world was on fire, it felt like your life was at a boiling point, reading to overflow, and bubble over.

and on july sixth, it did.

“i don’t want to go to decelis,” minji whispers, “i don’t want to leave everything behind,”

“minji. . .” you trail off, “listen, i get it. you’ve been here your whole life, but it’ll be okay, it’s just a new, fresh start,”

“i can’t stand it,” she says quietly, “i can’t handle all of that pressure yn. i’m not insanely smart, insanely athletic, or anything like that. i can’t live up to those standards. those kids are going to eat **me alive,”

“minji—”

“i wish i was like you. you’re smart without having to study, you’re athletic you’re*. . .”* she stops “you’re everything decelis wants.”

“oh come on, don’t dismiss your own achievements. minji, listen i get it’ll be hard for you to adjust—”

“it won’t have to be,” she suddenly says, excited. “yn, you are everything decelis wants!”

“so?”

“swap with me,” she begs, “you are everything they want,” and in the scorching heat of early july, the boiling point of your life, your world boiled over. you were going to decelis. you were kim minji.

maybe you should’ve thought out this idea a little more before committing to it, because now that you were sitting in the front of minji’s car, acting as her chauffer, you can only shift nervously. the two of you constantly send glances at one another in the rear mirror, unable to say anything with both her parents in the car.

you’re ready to dip, yet you know you can’t betray your best friend like that. you knew how minji was. she was kind, sometimes too kind, and you knew a school like decelis was definitely not for her. but it also wasn’t a school for you. you weren’t rich. you weren’t elite. sure you had the skills, but when it came to background? you’d be eaten alive if you were found out.

yet, this was also a good opportunity for you. in fact, this would let you take classes from some of the top professors and teachers in the world, and you’d have access to opportunities many others could only dream of. the plan was simple, as a ‘chauffer’ you’d help minji unload her bags, escort her in, rush into the bathroom, swap outfits and be on your merry ways.

minji had told you that she’d be leaving for a flight promptly as soon as she got home, planning to go to America and meet up with an old friend to pursue her dreams of being a dancer. you knew how much minji loved dance, and while her parents supported her in it as an extracurricular, a hobby, they absolutely refused for her to go professional. you’d heard it one too many times, from all the times you’d hung out with her.

“it’s an unstable job, there will always be someone younger, someone better than you,”

“dancing will not make you successful in life,”

“you aren’t good enough anyways to be like the pros,”

ouch, you think to yourself, recalling the insults they had thrown at her. her parents were harsh. they were stereotypical as well: strict, stubborn, unmoving, unloving. in comparison, you didn’t have parents. they had passed long ago, and you had been passed on to your mother’s then twenty-two year old sister.

she knew about the plan, you had fought with her over it. yet, you didn’t back down and the day before you left she wished you good luck, pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you things you could not understand.

“stay safe, stay low, don’t step out of line, don’t be like ahra,”

the mere gate of the school leaves you in awe, it’s incredibly large, with the decelis enbelm in the center of it all. your heart races. you watch as the two men in front of you open the gates, revealing a long pathway, nestled in a large amount of trees.

driving up the driveway only makes you more and more nervous, making you gulp in fear. you check on minji in the rear mirror, and you can see how scared she is as well. she doesn’t look at you, but by the way her eyes goggle at the school, you can tell she’s intimidated. you’re not sure, how long you drive up the winding path for, but the school is even more amazing.

it’s sat on top of the hill, so incredibly large, practically a castle, and you can see even taller buildings behind this main one. you pull in slowly into porte cochere, a ton of other fancy cars pulling in as well. you watch the students who step out, all of them dressed in the same uniform, only with different patches and symbols marking your year. they’re all chattering and smiling with one another. you gulp.

“chauffer?” mister kim calls out.

“right, sorry! miss minji, let me get your bags for you,” you quickly hop out of the front of the car, adjusting your cap and wig, and heading to the back. you watch as minji approaches you, scanning the school around her. she would only be going to decelis her final year of high school. her grades had always been average, and because of that her parents were always too ashamed to send her to develop. yet after one more try at the entrance exam, which you had actually done for her, they finally sent her, or well, you.

belift academy was not a bad school, ranked top fifty in the world still, yet her parents wanted her to reach new levels, to meet other kids in her circle. you pull out her luggage, setting them onto the ground, scanning the school yourself behind your sunglasses. you watch as minji’s parents approach her, talking to her. you can only watch them from the side. they don’t hug her, they only lecture her.

“mister and missus, i’ll help miss minji take her bags in, and i’ll be straight out,” the two of them nod at you, only staring at minji. you grab ahold of her two luggage, trying to pretend they aren’t heavy. as soon as the two of you enter the school, you search for a secluded place and dash to it. the two of you had practiced this earlier today, and you quickly slip on her uniform, the blazer, skirt, socks, and clunky shoes. you stare at minji, you can barely tell its her, with the stupid sunglasses and goofy wig.

you bring her into a hug.

“thank you so so so much yn,” she whispers, “i don’t know how i can ever repay you,”

“just be happy, and achieve your dreams,” you smile, “you can repay me that way,”. you pull away from the hug, and the two of you stare at each other one last time. you grin. “i’ll be fine minji, update me as much as you can,”

“of course,”

the school is huge and despite being in your final year of high school, you’re still a new student, so you head to the orientation, sitting in the new students section. you analyze everything, your eyes scanning the crowd to see someone you could talk to.

“are you a third year?” you whip your head around quickly, staring at three girls who stand behind you. they’re dripping in luxury, shimmery jewlery, polished hair, and glossy lips. if it were not for minji giving you her things, you would’ve looked incredibly out of place.

“yeah, i just transferred here,”

“i’m kim chaewon,” she starts, “my parents own kim food corporation,”

“danielle marsh,” the other girl says, “my parents own hyundai, plus i’m from australia”

“and i’m hwang yeji!” the third girl says, “my parents own TOI media,”

okay. holy fucking shit. you think to yourself. “nice to meet you!” you exclaim, putting on a smile, “i’m. . .kim minji. my parents own WQ group,”

“ooo!” chaewon chirps, she smiles, “your third year of high school, but first year here?’ she asks. and despite the kind smile on her face, you know she’s analyzing you.

“Yeah, I guess it is kinda weird,” you shrug, “but i’m here now and that’s all that matters,”. the three girls stare at you, and nod. yeji claps her hands together and smiles.

“find us after the orientation! we’ll be outside waiting for you,”

you watch as the three girls skip away together, and as nice as they seem you know that deeper down they’re judging you. they’re assessing you, seeing if you live up to the standards first, then if you’re worth keeping around. you grit your teeth. you had been here for less than twenty minutes, yet you knew you’d have to play it safe, keep a low profile. and most importantly, keep that smile on your face and act like you were just like them.

you meet the three of time as soon as the orientation ends, and as promised they’re standing outside the large auditorium. danielle gives you a smile, “so, where’s your dorm room?”

“uhm. . .” you mutter, taking out your sheet of information, “it says i’m in summa hall,” the three of them whistle.

“you must’ve scored high on the entrance exam,” you nod, sweating at the memory.

“you never told me that i’d have to take their entrance exam minji!” you hiss.

“you’re academics are better than me! and plus you’re the one going really,”

“aughhh!” you exclaim.

“what does summa mean?”

“it’s latin, summa cum laude, with highest honor. and then theres magna cum laude, which is with great honor. then there’s what we just call cum laude, with distinction. then at the bottom is Infimus, which just means the lowest,” she explains, “and you, minji, are in summa meaning you’re one of the top in school,”

“impressive,” chaewon whistles, “most kids enter their first year way lower, and work their way up. it’s amazing you did it in one try,”

“that entrance exam was hard though. . .” you mutter.

“guess not hard enough,” yeji laughs, “all three of us are in summa,”

“right, yeji’s rank 7, chaewon 6, and danielles 5,”

“the ranks are based on the entrance exams everyone takes before school starts, they can change after ever marking period though, based on popularity, and extracurriculars” yeji groans, “it’s hard to maintain, but the benefits are endless. plus! the summa dorms are the nicest, so enjoy it!”

yeji was right, the summa dorms were top tier. you never knew another bed could be even comfier than your own back at home, and the fluffy pillows were to die for. summa dorms only had twenty rooms, ten for the top girls, and ten for the top boys. you were still unsure where you were in this whole caste like hierarchy, you didn’t really care, the bed was enough to keep your mind off things.

you wake up at the ass crack of dawn, five thirty in the morning, to get ready. you knew impressions were everything at this school, and even walking by those of the lower ranks, they were dressed up as well. you sigh, looking at your closet, filled with minji’s things. you sigh. this was going to be a long first few weeks.

by the time you’re done with your makeup, hair, accessories, and all, it’s already seven forty, meaning breakfast would be served at eight. you grab minji’s backpack, shuffling out of your room, your shoes halfway on.

“you new?” you hear suddenly. you whip around, to see a second-year boy, standing in front of a dorm that’s six doors down. you jump.

“uhm, yeah?” you analyze him, head to toe. he’s decked out in expensive jewelry as well, and you gulp underneath his stare.

“and you dethroned leeseo ,” he grins.

“what? who?”

“well her name’s actually lee hyunseo, she was the number one girl, but now you took her place,”

“i’m. . .what?”

“danielle i’m number one?”

“you didn’t know that??” she asks, staring at you wide eyed, “what do you think the numbers on the dorms meant!?”

“w-what the!? i thought they meant just your room number! like suite one or something!” you exclaim, “i didn’t know! and now who the hell is lee uhm lee hunsoo???”

“you mean lee hyunseo??” danielle says, fake shuddering, “she’s a bitch. she’s been number one ever since first year, she’s been in that room for years,”

“shit,” you mutter, “i don’t want enemies!”

”oh please, don’t worry,” danielle says.

“i am worrying. . .” you murmur, but danielle ignores this, only dragging you faster to the dining hall. you can’t help but think have the worst feeling in your gut that this lee hyunseo, leeseo, girl wouldn’t let you take her spot so easily.

“ooo! fresh build-your-own omelettes! minji hurry up!”

being a summa means essentially all your classes, except for electives, are seperate from everyone else. you have the better classes, better teachers, and overall better programs, and it makes you feel absolutely gross.

despite having yeji, danielle, and chaewon now you still didn’t trust them. sure they were nice to you, but that was only after they knew who your supposed parents were, after you had revealed you were a summa to. you trail behind them, danielle by your side chattering to you about some trip she had taken to aruba a couple months back. and while you could care less, you nod and give short responses, letting her chatter on.

all the summa classes are in the north building, in apollo hall. you can feel the difference in atmosphere as soon as you set foot in the hall. it’s much quieter in comparison to the rest of the school, it’s decorations even more intricate, and the school’s motto is engraved into the ceiling.

Sapientia Potentia Est.

wisdom is power. . . you gulp. danielle pulls you slightly, nudging you to hurry up. you want to laugh at how untruthful the school’s motto seems, sure wisdom was power, yet in decelis that wasn’t the case. wisdom wasn’t power.

money was power in this school, and while wisdom would get you somewhere, in the end it all boiled down to your background. you look at the motto once again, engraved in the door above your classroom. you scoff.

the classroom is suffocating. despite the friendly chatter going on around the classroom, you can feel the difference almost immediately. as friendly as these kids were acting, behind their smiles, their laughs, they were all watching one another carefully.

and all eyes are on you, the new student, kim minji, who placed first in the entrance exam, and was now ranked number one in the entire school. this was not the lowkey life you had originally planned for yourself, and you realized that because of this you were going to be noticed. you would be under a spotlight.

fuck. . . you think to yourself, sighing. you bury your head into your arms at the classroom’s seats.

“kim minji?” you look up only to meet eyes with a girl you’ve never seen before. she’s pretty, really pretty. her hair is glossy, her lips and cheeks are rosy, her lashes are long, and she’s also decked out in dainty, yet glimmering, expensive jewlery. you look at her, discreetly looking at her nametag. lee hyunseo.

“yes?” you answer sweetly, smiling, “you’re, leeseo right? sorry i’m still new,”

“yes, that’s right,” she smiles a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “i’m lee hyunseo, but you can just call me leeseo. congratulations on your entrance exam score,”

“thank you,” you tell her, “it was a really difficult test,”. you put that stupid, sickly sweet smile on your face again, not showing any emotion. you’ve gotten used to reading others. you were a scholarship kid at belift high, the only one in fact, and ostracized. you weren’t rich enough to afford anything at belift, and because of that you were judged. it got even more intense when you became friends with minji, who was well known in the school. you knew leeseo’s facade, what she truly implied. she was feeling you out, establishing you as her competition.

“it is,” she says, “i hope you enjoy your stay in the number one dorm, it really is as nice as others say, amirite?”

“yeji told me about it and i didn’t believe her,” you answer promptly, “i was truly surprised,” she nods.

“don’t get too comfortable,” she laughs and then she walks away. that was a threat. enjoy your stay, but you’re going down

“man. . .she’s intense,” chaewon mutters, “making her move already,”

shit. you think to yourself. leeseo had said little, but the meaning behind it said so, so much.

your original had been simple. stay low profile, make a couple friends in the lower ranks, pass classes, join a sport, and live your life here.

it was simple.

but fate had other plans for you. you were now the new girl who had scored the top grade in the entrance exam, shoved into the spotlight of the entire school alongside with other elites of the school. as much as you wanted to keep it lowkey, it was all too late now.

you weren’t going to back down now, especially since leeseo was high-tailing your ass. even if she didn’t directly say it, you knew what she meant. it meant more than just getting her rank back, she was going to bring you down as far as she could. she was threatend.

for some reason, the thought makes you laugh. you were poor, if she knew where you really were from she’d laugh at you, and step all over you. the fact that some girl who had it a thousand times better than you was threatened and jealous of your presence made you happy.

“kim minji?” you turn around, to see the boy you had talked to earlier in the morning. you recognized him from some of your classes as well. he smiles at you.

“yes. . .?’

“i’m kim sunoo,” he smiles at you, “i’m a second year,”

“ah, nice to meet you. i’m minji,”

“right. . .i’d like to be straightforward with you,” he says, and you stare at the boy. he has an oval face, fox-like features and his hair’s styled down. he has a friendly face, but his eyes say otherwise. he wants something. “i don’t like leeseo,”

“. . pardon?” you blink.

“you heard me,” he sighs, “i don’t like her,”

“and. . .?”

”you’ve taken her spot,” he smirks, “i can help you keep it,”

the offer hangs in the air, it’s unexpected, strange, suspicious even. you find yourself caught off guard by his proposition, and you can only stand there, unsure of what you should do. his straightforwardness startles you, and the way his eyes gaze at you makes you nervous.

“keep her spot?” you repeat, trying to remain nonchalant, “what do you mean by that?”

sunoo laughs “you know exactly what i mean, kim minji,”

“right. . .”

“i know how she operates,” he says, “she’s not as innocent as she seems. she's ruthless. to other’s she’s just another stuck-up girl, but now that someone’s really dethroned her, she’s scared now. she’s going to do something,”

“and why are you helping me? what do you gain from all of this?”

“i have my own reasons, kim minji,” he says. there it was again. kim minji. it rolled off his tongue in a way that irked you, and the way he constantly repeated it made you fidget. it made you think he knew something, yet you couldn't be sure. “don’t wonder about me too much. i’m helping you, giving you a warning,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“who ever said i wanted to keep that spot?”

“why wouldn’t you want to?” he asks, you watch as he looks around, scanning your surroundings. he leans in close next to you, his mouth right next to your ear. you gulp.

“hey what—”

“and plus, it was your mother’s spot,” he whispers.

DECELIS BOYS TOP 10 —

??? 6. ???

??? 7. ???

??? 8. ???

KIM SUNOO 9. ???

??? 10. ???

DECELIS GIRLS TOP 10 —

KIM MINJI 6. KIM CHAEWON

LEE HYUNSEO 7. HWANG YEJI

??? 8. ???

??? 9. ???

MARSH DANIELLE 10. ???

a/n spring break = no school = time to write = clear head to write new ideas and stuff = no writers block

literally grinded this all day without stop cause i had nothing else to do, ngl i'm proud of it, but at the same time idk what i want to do with it so like. . .??? + like i said in first a/n this is a very experimental fic and i prob won't continue it, but anyways PLEASE share thoughts on this

networks @a-dream-bookmark

#k labels #k films #enhypen x female reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen #enhypen sunoo #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #enha #enha x reader #kpop fanfic

[wintervalewritersecond]

tears to shed iv - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: last part! hope this makes up for the sad ending last part <3

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, happy ending

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

Your parents were much happier to hear that they were up in the social ladder now than that they were to hear that you had come back. Lord and Lady MacTavish also could not care less - as long as they got money, they would be set.

It is not like life with Johnny was bad. Not at all, actually. You had fun with him, and he was someone you feel comfortable with. He is so trustworthy, funny, and nice. It truly could have been so much worse.

The years pass, new people coming to the town, other people leaving. Babies are being born and elderly people are passing away. You aren't scared of death anymore - you have lived in it, you have loved in it.

Marriage to Johnny is like marrying a best friend. Both you and Johnny found out quite early on that you did love each other, yet more like friends or family instead of lovers. Not that you thought the other was ugly, mean, or uninteresting. It was just platonic, but to be quite honest, you did not mind.

You could be on the street, or worse, married to a horrible person. Lucky for you, you are 'stuck' with Johnny. Every single day felt refreshing, always going on trips or eating a delicious dinner. Your mother and father barely came to visit, saying they were much too busy with their new way of life. Lord and Lady MacTavish were also not seen very often, always far away, enjoying the money they now had.

Years seem to fly by.

The older you get, the faster time goes.

Your body is becoming weaker, the people around you have left, and the house feels much too big for only two people. It is winter now, and sickness is going around, a sickness that had also gotten the better of Johnny.

You sat by his side, his body covered with endless blankets, coughs coming from him ever so often.

"You are burning up," you mumble, your hand on his forehead.

He does not respond, only looking at the ceiling before finally turning his head to you. This is the most movement he has gone through this entire week. Johnny stays quiet for a moment, blinking slowly before licking his lips.

"Is the afterlife scary?"

"No," you softly say, taking hold of his hand, "It is fun, free, careless. You will have your own place, and you can have endless drinks at the bar. It is colourful and bright."

He hums, his hand softly squeezing yours as he looks past you.

"I think I would like to go there."

Your breath hitches in your throat, tears burning in your eyes as you look at him, bringing your other hand to his cheek.

"You do?"

Nothing but a hum yet again, his eyes looking past you.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Will you find me there?"

You nod, pressing a kiss to his hand.

"I will."

"Can you promise me something?"

Your heart feels heavy.

"Anything."

"After you find me... Also find Simon. That one man from years ago," he whispers, coughing, "If it... If it truly is as you said, then please, find him. Live the life you couldn't live now."

"Johnny," a tear falls down your cheek, "You are acting as if my life with you was not good."

"Oh, lass, we had a wonderful life. But the afterlife you describe... It is your second chance. Take it, please."

One last promise you make to him. Through sickness, through health, till death do you part.

"I promise you, Johnny. I love you so."

"And I love you."

After one last breath, one last blink, he leaves you. Leaves you behind as you did that one night, though you know he will not come back. More tears fall down your cheeks as you press a soft kiss to his forehead. Another friend lost.

You then spent months alone. No visitors, no Johnny, no parents.

It was weird.

The world seems so grey, so bleak, so colourless. There is nothing for you here. You eat just to eat, you read just to read. Everything seems meaningless. Another night where you go to sleep in a cold bed.

But this time, when you wake up, you feel different.

Your bones don't hurt, your limbs don't feel heavy, your hair doesn't feel brittle. Instead, you feel lively, weightless, free.

"A new arrival!"

Is the time finally here?

You open your eyes, the lights very bright, and you nearly can not believe what you see. It's the bar, the people, the music, the drinks.

"Wait..."

You quickly turn around, coming eye to eye with Johnny.

"Lass?"

You nod slowly, a smile forming on your face as you fling your arms around him.

"Oh, Johnny!" You pull away from him for a second, your hands on his cheeks, "I can't believe it! Oh, you look so young."

He does not nearly look the same as when you last saw him. His skin isn't wrinkly, his eyes are bright, and he has the same silly haircut.

"Says you," he grins, holding out his cup to you, "You look as mighty as ever."

You look at his cup and back at him. You are actually here. But, if you are... Is Simon here as well? Johnny still has a smile on his face, taking a swig from his beer. He knows what, or rather who, you are looking for.

"Go on," he nods his head to the exit, "We will have eternity to celebrate that you're here. Go, we can talk later."

You press a kiss to his cheek, nodding as you lift up the bottom of your skirt, walking up the stairs that lead to the outside of the bar. You are met with a mirror, right next to the door. You look so much younger, almost as if no time had passed. Dressed in a nightgown, your hair done up, looking youthful as ever. The age when you first got here, gone back in time, just like Johnny.

The roads, the coffins, the lights - all are exactly as you remember them being. You have dreamt of taking this exact walk dozens of times, clenching onto the dogtags that you had yet to take off. Now, you actually walk there, the tags tight in your hand. A left here, straight, and then...

You are so absorbed by your own thoughts that you do not register the person in front of you. You yelp, nearly falling over, but catching yourself by holding onto a crate.

"Oh, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"Y/N?"

You look up, you know that voice...

"Price?"

"I can't believe it!" He laughs, pulling you to him to give you a big hug, "You are here! Oh my god, wait until Simon hears about this. You are going to give him a heart attack!"

"Where is he?"

"At home," he backs off, nodding his head into the direction of the house, "Hasn't been out too much. Kept his mask back on, been in a real mood for a while. You know, he never got over you."

He still thinks of you?

"Neither have I," you whisper, looking up at the man.

"Oh, I know," he only shrugs, "Johnny and I have become well acquainted over these months. Sadly haven't been able to really talk to Simon too much, but I think that might change."

The two of you continue your way, only a few doors away from the love of your afterlife. What if he doesn't want to see you? What if you are not like how he expected? Maybe he does not wish for a life with you.

"Don't worry your little head, Y/N," Price whispers, stopping at the door, "I will leave you be. Come by the bar later?"

You nod, sending him a smile as he leaves you alone at the door. What now? Do you knock? You feel nervous, yet you don't feel the pounding of your heart or the sweat in your hands. You are excited, though you can't feel the butterflies in your stomach.

A soft knock on the door.

Was it not hard enough? What if he isn't home? What if he didn't hear? What if he acts like he doesn't hear so he doesn't have to answer-

"Price, I told ya, I don't want to go to the-" the door gets ripped open, revealing the masked man you have thought about each and every day, "pub."

"We don't have to if you don't wish to, Simon."

"Wh... Is that you?"

He grips your cheeks tightly, scared that if he lets go, you will disappear. His eyes scan your face, the rest of his face hidden behind the skull mask he wore when you met him. You nod as much as you can, but the tight grip barely allows for you to move. Within a second, you are in his arms, his arms around you and his head on top of yours. Even if you wanted to, you could never get out of this embrace.

"I can't believe it. You are here."

"I am here," you confirm.

"I have waited each and every day. Price told me your husband came here before you did."

You nod.

"He did. But he made me promise him something."

What did he promise? Should Simon be scared? Are you only here to say hello, only to never see him again?

"He wants me to have a second chance. To life my... afterlife, the way it was intended. With you."

He slowly lets go, looking down at you with big eyes. His tags still around your neck and you looking like an angel. Is this real? Someone, pinch him, though it will not work.

"With me?"

"Johnny and I were friends. Best friends, even," you whisper, holding onto Simon his hands, "He told me to find you, Simon. And, if you will have me, I would want to spend this eternity with you."

That is all that he has ever wanted to hear.

So, he gets down on one knee.

"Death made us part, but now brought us together," he kisses your knuckles, "May I ask you to be my wife, for now until forever?"

One hell of a way to ask you to marry him.

#simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #call of duty imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #corpse bride! ghost

[thesilverlady]

https://www.tumblr.com/thesilverlady/714939705545949184/ive-looked-and-i-havent-seen-you-talking-about?source=share

Please can you share your headcanons of Helaena and her relationships especially the one that she had with Aegon and her children

The fact the both of them are married and have children together but never shared one single interaction is one of the worst choices hbo has ever made and people want to convince you that they made Helaena better than her book counterpart lmao. Sorry but obsession with bugs is not even a personality to begin with

the fact HBO sucked out the dynamics from every single character was definitely... a choice

and yeah, I understand Helaena gets some ridiculous hate but pretending making her the way they did is somehow better than her book canon self is a deep delusion.

SO HELAENA HEADCANONS (I decided to make them a bit generic to cover more of her life, but if you want a solo only for Aegon x Helaena let me know)

1) Helaena isn't really pious. She follows the faith as any person but she doesn't really demonize other women the way her mother does

2) Similar to her brothers, she loves hearing tales of her Targaryen ancestors. She prefers the romance however and is something she bonds over with Rhaenyra - who is the best storyteller

3) Her older sister is someone she looks up to; as a child she dreams of being like to Rhaenyra when she grows older

4) Helaena has a small circle of lady friends but they've all been Hightower approved™ She doesn't mind this much, as long as there's no bad talking about other family members

5) She's the most patient of her siblings and lacks the temper the rest have. It takes a lot to piss her off - which is why it's shocking her she does snap

6) She gets along with her father just fine. He obviously loves Rhaenyra very much but he never makes her feel unwelcome or unfavored when she's with him. Her favorite past time is when he dines privately with her and Rhaenyra, calling them his sweet girls.

7) Aegon & Aemond are nasty as kids. It wasn't that bad before Aemond was born but having another boy around really clicked for her older brother. They mock her for not being pretty and always have a way to downplay everything she does. Alicent reprimands them if she hears it but she doesn't actually do anything to punish them. The only satisfaction she gets is when they try to do the same with Rhaenyra. Her older sister has a reply to everything and she always makes the boys flash with embarrassment

8) Helaena may not have the striking targaryen beauty (she's by no means ugly, just y'know, quite normal, a bit plain) but she has the prettiest voice when it comes to singing. And she knows how to play the harp. She performs to her father and sister a lot.

9) She loves her dragon and wishes she could fly with dreamfyre more but her mother has always been very discouraging of spending time with their dragons. The boys never listen to her but Helaena must be a proper lady so she tries to appease her. It doesn't make her miss dreamfyre any less though

10) She absolutely adores Daeron, and he's definitely her favorite of the boys. She visits him and Baby Jacaerys a lot

11) Helaena is devasted when Daeron is sent away, and it's one of the rare moments where she stands up for herself and argues with her mother. Viserys tries to comfort her by telling her she can always visit him and exchange letters

12) She does end up being the one to have the most familiarity with Daeron. She always sends the most letters to her siblings that are far away (daeron & rhaenyra) and for her nameday she gets her own raven

13) She seeks advice from her mother and her ladies when her marriage to Aegon comes closer. They give the usual unhelpful ones "Be good, have patience, obey your husband" bs, so predictably, she goes to Rhaenyra in tears, because Aemond has also added a bunch of doubts about what her older brother will do to her. Her older sister definitely isn't pleased to be awaken in the middle of the night, but she does humor her with some good advices ("don't let him do anything you don't want, try to be on top for the first time, don't be hesitant to push him, convince him to do what you want, sex shouldn't be painful, there's more than just producing children it's for pleasure too")

14) Her first night as a wife is... not bad. Aegon actually seems nervous for once, and they share a drink. She almost chokes with how nasty her brother's drink taste and he laughs. She confesses she doesn't want this to hurt and ask him to at least try to be gentle. The first time still hurts a bit (patience isn't her brother's virtue) but at least he did spend enough time to prepare her. In their second time she asks to be on top (which catches him off guard but allows it) and both end up enjoying it much better

15) As it's expected Aegon does ask her where she got these ideas from and Helaena is honest about who she asked. He doesn't say anything and she worries he might tell their mother but surprisingly that never happens

16) Marriage doesn't change her brother, or his tastes. She only requires him to not go after her ladies or servants. She knows better than to attempt to control any aspect of his life but out of sight, out of mind

17) While Aegon isn't the most gallant man, the past mockery does stop and he event fistfights with Aemond when he doesn't end his remarks. Helaena doubts he did it necessarily for her sake but she can't deny there's a... charm to it.

18) Another common ground she finds with her husband is the protectiveness they feel over their twins. Tongues can be cut from nobles but their family is a different matter. Alicent urges them to have another child. Otto is brutally honest about how Jaehaery's deformities andJaehaera's sex is against their cause. Aegon and Helaena become a shield for their twins and will fight anyone who make nasty comments about them. Their family learns to be more... delicate with expressing their opinions relating to the twins

19) Mothers aren't supposed to have a favorite child, she knows that. But Helaena can't help favoring Jaehaerys more. Her first born son is sweet, and needy and never wants to leave her side. Jaehaera is so much less expressive and while she tries to work with her it can be hard. Maelor has an adventurous spirit and loves exploring. He's good for Jaehaera who he forces out of her shell, but Jaehaerys remains constant. He's her most beloved though she'd never say it aloud.

20) After b&c Helaena gets lost into her head. She's too ashamed to look at Maelor, too hearbroken to face Jaehaera. In the dark, she seeks to find someone to blame; Rhaenyra for not giving up her throne, Aegon for thirsting for blood, Aemond for starting this when he murdered their child nephew. She wants to blame her mother who fed and nurtured this hatred between her siblings wants to blame her grandfather whose ambition and greed were always a priority, but in the end she only blames herself. For not finding a way to prevent this; the war, her son's death. All the loss and pain. She can't live with herself. When King's Landing falls to Rhaenyra and she's taken captive Helaena won't bear to see any of her children or siblings die. She ends her life so she won't have to witness any further the horror that has befallen on their house

#helaena targaryen #helaena x aegon ii #helaena x rhaenyra #aegon ii targaryen #helaegon #<- using the ship tag because I think these could inspire shippers 🤷🏻‍♀️ #my headcanons #ask reply #lmao I should have known better than to think I could keep this happy. I made myself sad #anyways I have so many headcanons about Helaena X Rhaenyra as sisters yall #also sorry to Aemond fans.i like him I swear but he was a nasty kid let's be serious

[slytherhys]

Strung-Out Heart VIII

A/N - A few things: 1. Keep in mind this is a FLASHBACK chapter. 2. Only part of it was beta'ed so please forgive me for any mistakes 🙏 3. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I've been tweaking it for days to make sure Rowan's every emotion was as clear as possible because it's fundamental for this chapter so I really hope I delivered something worthy. Enjoy ♥

TW - mature themes, strong language, mention of an abusive relationship

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

Rowan – 2 years ago

One year.

It had been twelve months and twelve days since Aelin had left, and Rowan still couldn’t wrap his head around what the fuck had happened. How had he gotten here? Where, exactly, had everything gone so tremendously wrong? A year ago, he had thought he was finally making all the right choices, finally moving forward with his life with the woman he loved beside him. Now, looking down his empty bottle with a frown, surrounded by his closest friends in what was supposed to be his birthday celebration, he felt more like he was 17 than his recently made 27.

He stared at the offending bottle, wondering if his friends would get mad if he left early. He hardly felt like celebrating, and he was pretty sure Lorcan was purposely giving him half-empty beer bottles.

He should probably switch to whiskey anyway – it was his birthday, after all.

All of his friends sat around one table at the back of Fenrys’ bar – Lorcan, Elide, Aedion and his boyfriend Kyllian and Fenrys. Even Chaol, a recent addition to their friend group Rowan wasn’t entirely sure he approved of, would drop by whenever he had a break from the bar. Everyone was having fun, and that was what mattered, he supposed. Even if he felt like getting shitfaced alone and maybe finding someone to go home with. Heaven knew he could use the distraction.

“To Rowan,” Elide’s sweet voice called from his left as she raised her glass of red wine. “Here’s to new beginnings – even in your old age.” She smirked, giving him a side-hug as the rest of the table cheered, jeering and chuckling as they took sips from their drinks. Rowan frowned at his drink again, but Lorcan handed him a new bottle before he could protest. A full one, too.

Weird.

“You okay?” His best friend asked just as everyone else started discussing Elide’s new bakery. It had only been open for two weeks but it was already doing amazing numbers. Rowan wasn’t surprised – it was a known fact she was an amazing baker.

“Yup.” He said simply, taking a sip from his new bottle. Lorcan frowned, probably not convinced, but Rowan had stopped trying to be convincing a long time ago – he no longer had the energy for it.

Sure, he should be celebrating. He had a new apartment, Cadre’s Ink was doing better than what they hoped for and just two days ago he had gone on an okay date with a very nice girl – but those things barely felt gratifying. Everyone avoided talking about the reason why, exactly, that was, but it hung over them, like a haunting presence that refused to leave them alone. Even if Elide toasted to new beginnings, he wasn’t sure she truly believed her own words. Hellas knew he didn’t.

He should let it all go – it was nothing he didn’t already know – but his mother had always told him his stubbornness would bite him in the ass one day, and it seemed like it applied to this as well.

Maybe he was a masochist – Elide had accused him of such just a few weeks earlier when she was helping him pack his things so he could move out of their old apartment. Maybe she had a point. Maybe there was no use in keeping most of the things he had kept, but his life with Aelin had been a fundamental part of who he was and getting rid of those memories felt too much like getting rid of a part of him he wasn’t willing to let go. Not yet at least.

“Are you still going to Wendlyn for Christmas?” Lorcan asked casually. Too casually. His friend knew better than anyone that Rowan was getting tired of constantly being coddled by everyone, but it never stopped him from constantly monitoring him. Rowan supposed he should be grateful for the friends he had but his birthday was clearly not meant to be a happy occasion.

Would she call him? Maybe leave a message?

Would she even remember it was his birthday?

Rowan shook his head, trying to get rid of his intrusive thoughts as he refocused on his friend. “Yeah, I think so.” He shrugged. He missed his family and being around them would probably do him some good. The Gods knew he needed a change of scenery.

“And…” Lorcan eyed him, lowering his voice so only Rowan could hear his next words. “Have you thought about moving?” He cleared his throat just as Elide’s and Fenrys’ laughter boomed around them.

Rowan quickly shook his head, dismissing the idea completely. “I’m your partner, Lorcan.” He took another sip, wishing for something stronger to numb the anger bubbling inside his chest. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Lorcan clearly heard what he wasn’t saying, and Rowan swallowed the bitterness that threatened to claw its way out. His anger had clearly made him entirely too transparent in recent months if even someone like Lorcan could read him that easily. “I would understand, Ro.”

“No.” He simply said, leaving no room for debate. “I’m not leaving you.”

Lorcan sighed, sounding tired. “Maybe Wendlyn would do you some good, though.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m going there on Christmas.” He shrugged, smirking at his friend. “Do you want to get rid of me that much?”

Lorcan ignored his attempt at humour. Hellas, it was his birthday – couldn’t he just give him a break?  “We’ve talked about opening a second location,” He shrugged, leaning against his chair, feigning serenity Rowan doubted he possessed. “Why not do it in your hometown?”

“It’s not happening, Lorcan.”

“Just because she left doesn’t mean you can’t leave too Rowan.” His jaw clenched even if his friend’s words were cautious. Gentle. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Will you fucking drop it?” He exploded, the joyous laughter around them ceasing suddenly as all eyes fell on him. Fucking great. “I’m going to get another drink.” He muttered, leaving before anyone could stop him.

When he had told Lorcan he was thinking about going back home he didn’t expect his best friend to be so eager about seeing him leave. It had been a passing thought; the consequence of too much alcohol and not enough sleep. Sure, it had sounded logical for a second – there wasn’t anything really keeping him in Orynth, so he saw no point in staying. But much like most of his thoughts these days, it was meaningless banter, as if testing his thoughts out loud to see if they felt right.

Truth be told, nothing felt right but staying in Orynth. Even if Aelin wasn’t around anymore, his entire life was here. He had a career – a purpose – his friends and his own apartment, however empty it might be still. Despite everything, he had created roots in Orynth and since the only person that might have made him consider leaving had left herself, nothing now could possibly drag him out of this city. 

Rowan ordered a glass of whiskey which Chaol promptly served him before attending to his other customers, but a hand on his shoulder interrupted him before he could take a sip. He fought the need to growl, instead smiling as he noticed it was Elide eyeing him with open curiosity. Rowan waited for the questions, the coddling, but she gave him nothing but a raised eyebrow.

“Are you sure you should be drinking whiskey?” He tilted his head. “You’re supposed to help me tomorrow, remember?”

Rowan rolled his eyes, smiling softly at her teasing. All the men were helping out Elide since she couldn’t afford to hire someone else, and tomorrow was his turn. Even if he had to get up at an abnormal hour, Elide knew damn well he wouldn’t slack off on his duties.

“I’m 27, El.”

Elide pursed his lips, taking the stool by his side. “I know, old man. That’s why I’m concerned.” She smirked and Rowan shook his head, laughing for the first time that night.

“Lorcan means well, you know.” She said as she signalled Chaol for a refill. “He can be a brute,” she shrugged. “But he’s looking out for you.”

“I know that.” And he did. He was just being an ass for the sake of it, apparently. “I’m just having a shit day.”

Elide nodded, wrinkling her brows as she stared at the wooden counter. “Some days are worse than others.” She smiled. “We can all try to help you but no one really knows what’s going inside your head, Ro.” She leaned against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder as they remained staring ahead of them. “But that’s a choice you’re making on your own.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She chuckled at his indignant tone. “We’ve been trying to help you all year long and you’ve done nothing but push us away, Whitethorn.”

“It’s easier.” He said softly.

“I know,” She stood straighter as Chaol approached with her favoured wine, serving them with a smile and immediately leaving. “But you haven’t even tried.” She took a sip, a knowing glint in her brown eyes as she watched Rowan. “We’ve all been through shit. You know that.” She nodded towards the table where her friends were. “Fenrys can’t keep a relationship even if his life depends on it, Aedion has been ignoring his boyfriend all night long and Lorcan spent years of his life in an abusive relationship.” She said quietly, her eyes unseeing as she stared at their friends. “We all have all sorts of fucked up advice we could give you and yet you refuse us the honour.” She smirked slightly, blinking once before turning her eyes back on Rowan.

“And you?”

“Well, I’ll be here when the good parts begin.” She grinned, but a sliver of sadness crept into her eyes.

Rowan huffed, shaking his head as he took another sip of liquid courage. “And when do we get to that?” It was a rhetorical question. Kinda.

“You’d have to try and get over the bad.”

Rowan glanced at Elide, noting her smug smile as she took yet another sip. “When did you get so wise?”

She hopped off the stool, sending him a grin that lit up the entire room. “My wisdom has always been my greatest asset.” And then she was walking back to her boyfriend; to their friends, who were all celebrating his life with a happy smile on their faces.

So he went as well - the least he could do was try.

..............................

Birthdays could actually be fun if one stopped thinking about all the ways their life had gone to shit, Rowan thought with a chuckle as he finally managed to open the door to his new apartment. It still smelled slightly musty despite the open windows, and the walls were painted in a hideous yellow that made his eyes hurt but for the first time since he had bought it, it felt like home.

His room had already been painted sage-green, the smell of paint lingering in the air as he navigated through the card boxes that were standing as furniture until he finally unpacked his things, and even though it still lacked any decoration at all, it already felt like his room. The mattress was on the floor, since the bed frame he had ordered earlier that week was yet to arrive, but there were books by its side and his reading glasses on top of them next to a picture frame of his family. It wasn’t much, but they were pieces of him; of his new life.

He bent down, sitting on the mattress as he opened the closest box, where he knew a warmer duvet was stored. Maybe opening the windows in October hadn’t been the greatest idea, but he’d rather freeze than have a musty apartment. He pulled a wool duvet, a gift from his mother when he first moved to Terrasen, but a soft thud made his head snap back to the box. A book – a small paperback edition of Persuasion by Jane Austen. It wasn’t his book, but Rowan knew it had been on the bedside table, collecting dust. Elide had probably added it to the box without thinking twice, but now Rowan wondered if there was a reason…

He blinked once. Twice.

He’d promised Elide he would try just a few hours ago, but maybe this was a sign that he should try and talk to her. Just one last time. Maybe she would hear him and maybe he could kiss her again. He liked that idea. A lot.

Before his sluggish brain could catch up, Rowan was looking down at a picture of a smiling Aelin, his thumb hovering above the call button. Hellas, he had missed seeing her face. Why had he stopped? He couldn’t remember right now. He put his phone against his ear, letting the seconds go by as he tried to think of something clever to say.

Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but he had a good feeling about this.

He sighed, leaning against the wall, and ignoring the way his stomach seemed to be turning. “Hi, fireheart.” He closed his eyes, the name sounding sour on his tongue. Did she even like being called that anymore? He highly doubted it. “It’s my birthday.” He added lamely. “I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve been thinking a lot about you. Lorcan doesn’t like it, though.” He chuckled quietly, clearing his voice before he tried again. “Aedion told me you found friends and a new apartment, so I suppose that’s a good thing. I wonder if you ever miss me though,” he huffed, thinking of all the texts and calls he had hoped for and never received. “But I guess I know the answer to that.”

He hummed, suddenly feeling tired. “You were my best friend before I ever even kissed you, Aelin.” He sighed, suddenly feeling glum. What the fuck was he doing? “I don’t know what’s the point of this call, but I guess I wish I could see you again.” A pause. “Hear your voice.” Was his speech slurred? “It’s been a year and I’m still not entirely convinced I can live without you, fireheart. Do you think I’ll ever learn?” He would soon go mad if he didn’t.

Rowan stayed silent, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Would she even hear this? Or would she get the notification and delete it as easily as she had deleted him from her life? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but maybe it was a good thing future Rowan would be the one dealing with the consequences of his present actions – mainly considering he was seconds away from barfing.

“I’ll always love you, Aelin.” He said to the dimly lit room, promising himself it would be the last time he ever said the words. “Even if I’m not sure you deserve it.”

..............................

Rowan stared at his phone unblinking as he sipped from his third coffee that morning – an incredible perk of helping at the bakery, he supposed. Elide sat across from him, her eyes flickering between the counter, his phone, and his face.

He knew he looked like shit – he felt like it too. He had avoided looking in the mirror before he left his apartment and rushed to Elide’s bakery, asking for a cannoli and a black coffee in the hopes they would, somehow, make all his shitty actions more bearable.

Needless to say, they didn’t.

It was the middle of the morning, the first break they had since Elide’s opened, and even if he was exhausted, dragging his feet with every step he took, he suddenly wished for more customers to flood the bakery; to numb himself in exhaustion so he wouldn’t feel absolutely revolted with himself.  

“Ro?” Elide called gently, her hand reaching for his and pushing his phone down on the table. Rowan looked up at her, hating the understanding smile on her face.

“It didn’t send.” He simply muttered.

The first thing Rowan had done when he got to Elide minutes before she opened shop was tell her exactly what he had done last night, incapable of dealing with his heavy conscience. Elide had frowned and though he could see the curiosity in her eyes, she refrained from commenting; refrained from talking to him at all if he was being honest.

Somehow, he preferred her pitiful smiles to her silences, so he’d take what he could get.

He hadn’t been able to check his phone all morning, dreading whatever truth lied inside of it, and the more he stared at the screen the more he wished he was as oblivious as he had been those blissful five seconds when he had woken up. All good things in his life were short-lived, apparently.

“What?”

“It didn’t send.” He looked outside, unable to meet her knowing gaze and focusing on the heavy pour instead. November had come with a vengeance, it seemed. “Apparently the number doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Oh.” Elide frowned, opening her mouth as if about to say something when the door of the bakery opened again, the bell above it ringing pleasantly and signalling the arrival of more customers. Rowan stood up, giving Elide a kiss on the top of her head before turning to leave, but she stopped him before he could leave – his shift was over, anyway. “Is it time, then?” She asked, but Rowan furrowed his brows in confusion. “To move on, I mean.”

But Rowan wasn’t sure, so he sent her what he hoped was a reassuring smile before leaving the bakery, cursing under his breath as the rain seemed to come down even harder than before. He eyed the bar on the other side of the street. Was Fenrys already in?

Rowan rushed to the other side of the street, pushing the (thankfully) open door and letting it close behind him, drowning out the sounds of the storm. The lights were on, but there was no sight of Fenrys other than the sound of his voice.

“…when I can visit. Give me time, okay?” He sighed and Rowan walked towards the sound of his friend’s voice. “I don’t think I’m ready to see your new life, yet.” A pause followed by a low chuckle. “I’m sure I will, but it’s not him I’m concerned about. Are you happy, Aelin?”

Rowan went still, the breath in his lungs making a quick escape as he felt the colour drain out of his face. Was Fenrys talking to Aelin? His Aelin? Was that even possible? She changed numbers – he knew that for a fact now – and Aedion had told him she barely even talked to him.

“Not really,” Fenrys’ voice interrupted his thoughts. “But he’s surviving.” Rowan felt his stomach twist. Were they talking about him? The thought left a tart taste in his mouth. He didn’t want them talking about him. He didn’t even like the idea of Aelin being concerned over his well-being. Not anymore.

All the emotions of the previous night seemed to freeze inside his chest, locking away all the hopes he had foolishly nursed over a cursed book.

He's surviving.

And she was enjoying her new life, wasn’t she? Inviting old friends to see her after she had left without a single goodbye, gone in the middle of the night like a coward. Rowan reached for the ring he, for some reason, still carried with himself, squeezing the cold metal between his fingers, feeling the bite of the small diamond against his skin.

He walked away silently, ignoring the rain as he returned to his apartment. He’d text Fenrys later, but he couldn’t be with his friend right now.

Aedion had told him months ago that Aelin wasn’t coming back but some foolish part of him had refused to believe it. He had waited by their apartment for days, hadn’t sold it for months until he couldn’t stand the sight of it. He still felt his every cell looking for her every time he was in public. Was he cursed to live the rest of his days like this? Rowan refused.

She had clearly moved on and instead of doing the same, Rowan had held onto every bad omen like they were proof of her return. Could he blame his friends for their pitying gazes? He had spent an entire year going round in circles, waiting for her because he’d convinced himself that’s what you do when you love somebody. But what had he gained from it all? An unused engagement ring and an empty apartment decorated with cardboard boxes containing memories that didn’t feel like his anymore.

Rowan entered his apartment, ignoring the fact he was dripping all over the wooden floors, and walked to his room, opening the closet and reaching for the tiny velvet box he had kept inside.

He had carried his wishes all year around, holding onto hope that Aelin would return to him, like he always believed she meant to, and that maybe they could restart again. But Aelin, in true Aelin fashion, had dropped the fatal blow. She was living her life, reaching out to old friends and moving on swiftly. Why shouldn’t he do the same?

Rowan looked at the ring one last time before setting it back in its original box, closing it with a resonant snap.

It was time to move on.



…………….

TAG LIST: @superspiritfestival @llyncooljones @leiawritesstories @morganofthewildfire @bookcide @loves-books @thegreyj

#strung out heart #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic rec #fanfiction #rowaelin fic #rowaelin au #writers on tumblr #aelin fic #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fic

[iridawn]

damn shes using this blog for lore dumps????

somethings ive touched upon only really briefly in my stories/the iridescent bonds continuity, but i havent had the full extent to explore (and likely won't EVER) is dawn's prior relationship, the one with hilda, the protag from gen 5.

while it isnt ever really important, it does kind of influence why she feels in certain ways during iridescent bonds. and, of course, being the Fool i am, ive already got a full idea of what that was like, and all that jazz. ive never really had an excuse to bring it up, and i dont think i ever will. which is fine, although i am a bit sad that character info won't really have a use

...so, here it is, if one is truly interested

Dawn and Hilda met at a Champion Summit about 1 year after Dawn became Champion, where she too was a somewhat fresh addition to the League. Dawn was about 16 or so, give or take, and Hilda was around 16-17 as well.

The two hit it off pretty well, as they were both pretty similar in a lot of ways. Both enjoyed battling a lot, both had dealt with a lot, and they had a few common interests, as well. Dawn appreciated how good she was, as well. They seemed to hit it off pretty well, so they exchanged contact info after the event, keeping up with one another as the months went by. Dawn was glad to make a new friend.

But, of course, those feelings turned into something a little more. She knew Hilda wasn't straight, so she mustered up her courage, and after a few months of them talking and maybe-sorta flirting, she asked Hilda out.

And she said yes!

A long distance relationship, sure, but the Pokemon world's a lot easier for that, so they found lots of time to visit one another, making trips to Unova or Sinnoh. For a while, things seemed great, and they were getting along well, and all that, for about a year of so.

...But Dawn felt like something was missing in it.

Not that Hilda was a bad girlfriend or anything, or that Dawn was a bad girlfriend - literally the farthest thing from. But, despite how close they had gotten, things still felt... distant, and they only seemed to grow moreso as time went on. Not that they were neglecting eachother or not showing care for the other, but just that things felt... off.

Hilda seemed like she always had something else on her mind, and while Dawn didn't mind, it worried her to an extent. Dawn, as well, felt as if she wasn't doing enough. But neither of them had been in a relationship before, so it makes sense things would be awkward.

It was about a year when Dawn brought this up to Hilda, being somewhat concerned about what was going on. "What are we," that kind of thing.

...And they were both honest with themselves - things weren't working out super hot.

Hilda was always busy, looking into leads to finding her best friend, N. He had disappeared years ago, and Hilda was desperate to find him again. Dawn respected this, of course, but it still felt unfortunate.

Dawn was often busy as well, training and practising for what it took to be a League champ, as she was very dedicated to being the best and keeping that title (especially after a rocky performance at the first Summit...), and while Hilda was doing this as well, Dawn's schedule often clashed with her own, which she seemed a little upset by.

Neither of them was in the wrong more than the other - they were both making mistakes. But this was okay, right?

"We can work things out, can't we?"

"...We could, but I need to be honest with myself."

Hilda needed to find N.

She loved Dawn, truly. And she didn't regret a single second of being with her. But, and she'd never say this to Dawn, N was who she was really longing for. He was her best friend, but he was also someone she deeply loved.

Hilda felt awful for it, but her relationship with Dawn felt like it was simply filling that hole in her heart for her, and that she wasn't really feeling it as much as she should. Dawn deserved better than something being meant to fill the gap.

She didn't say this to Dawn, but just stated that N was someone she needed to find. And, that, she was going to travel the world to find him. Dawn could follow if she wanted, but she figured that wouldn't be what she wanted.

Dawn, similarly not wanting to say it saying it, felt as if she had flung herself into this because she was lonely.

She's 16, going through hormones, and was touch starved. You make some rash decisions on romance when you do, it happens!

She also loved Hilda, but as time went on, it was clear it was just the both of them getting together to fill blank spaces in their hearts, and that things weren't working out as smooth as they could.

So, on good terms, they split apart. They both greatly appreciated eachother, and they were both grateful to leave on mutual terms. No bad blood, no bridges burned - they just realized that things weren't working out 100%.

And with Hilda taking her leave to go seek N out, Dawn was left alone once more.

And she felt awful about it.

Flinging herself into a relationship just to feel something, just because she was feeling lonely? Just because she couldn't control how bizarre the emotion of love felt? Dawn felt utterly ridiculous, and she didn't want to do something like this ever again. She was still lonely, but she had to be much more stern about it to herself. She had to put her foot down.

But the pain was still there. The pain that she messed things up, the pain that she felt like, in some capacity, that she had hurt Hilda. What could she have done differently? Would it even be a good idea? How did she know she wasn't going to just do this again the first second she got?

But she still wanted that affection, that closeness with someone. If she was this desperate for it, then would she ever find it in a meaningful way, or would her stupid, ridiculous brain force her to just fling herself into the first chance she got? (This is how she was thinking about it, fwiw)

Dawn beat herself up a lot after this. Lucas, being her best friend, comforted her a lot during these times, as did her mother. And it did help, really. But that fear of having this happen again, of fucking up her chances to find love by just flinging herself into the first relationship she found, really stung.

This, to her, felt like a wakeup call that she had to be more reserved with this kind of thing. She couldn't do this again - she didn't want to.

...Of course, a couple of months later (let's say half a year), Dawn gets flung into Hisui...

So it all works out!

(Basically, her last relationship left her with a lot of worries and fears, because of it basically being a fling. She needed to be way more reserved, to be more careful. Even when her heart yearned, she had to be smarter about it. She didn't want to hurt others, and she certainly didn't want to hurt herself.)

Hope this all didn't seem too mean! I love Hilda, but I just think this is an interesting idea, so this is what's stewed in my brainmind for almost a full dang year.

#jewel box lite #kinda anyway #hopefully this isnt too much! its just something interesting i always dwell on #the curses of worldbuilding...

[physicsfox7]

Continuing to use this as a venting blog. Same rules apply: you dont have to feel obligated to interact with me. We've all got our own shit going on.

The truth is, I've never felt like I belonged. Anywhere. And I know there are so many people who feel the same way, I'm not trying to diminish them.

I didnt feel like I belonged to my family. Maybe it was the autism. Id say something, and everyone in the room would look at me weird. I didnt understand limits, and would take jokes too far.

School wasnt any better. The person I considered my best friend didnt even consider me his best friend. I'd walk the hallways and say hi and talk to people, but unless I get daily affirmations, I feel like I'm just annoying everyone around me.

Half the time anymore, I feel like I piss off and annoy my own wife.

My childhood home was torn down a few years ago. I didnt think it bothered me. It was just one more building. It was always too hot in the summer, way too cold in the winter. We had fleas, termites, and huge wolf spiders.

Then I had the bright idea of rebuilding that house in Minecraft. Seems stupid, but once it was done and I could actually walk through the front door into the living room, go into my old bedroom, sneak through the laundry room, it was miserable. I hated that I would never set foot in that house again.

I had an interaction with someone yesterday. Ive always felt very close to her, because we study the same thing. Shes on her way to a PhD and I never even made it out of community college, but it was like finding a candle in the dark: just obe other person I thought I could talk to because we had similar interests. Shes going through a very rough time, and has been for over a year. I said something not particularly helpful, but in an attempt to reach out and let her know someone was paying attention. She told me I didnt need to comment on every thing she says. I was genuinely taken aback. Shes never been particularly warm towards me, and she is going through a lot. But it hurt anyway, because I tend to comment on everyones post.

I cant shut up. I'm so genuinely excited to have people to talk to after almost 10 years with no friends that I make an ass out of myself because I'm just trying to reach out.

She was right, I didnt need to say anything. And I guess I did what i always do: make something small into something much more than it is. I thought I had made a friend, when I damn well knew that wasnt the case.

I have no home to go back to, I never feel secure around my friends. I'm kind of fucking pitiful. And I will always hesitate to reach out to my friends for reassurance or validation. Everyone has their own shit, and its not fair to ask them to take care of me. So I cant even lean on people without feeling like a shitty person.

This may or may not be cathartic. To finally just belt out everything, regardless of what it might look like. I cant do this on Twitter, because then people will want to make a big deal out of it. There are too many people there. Maybe some completely random person, bored out their mind and just doomscrolling will read this. Hello! It brings me some comfort to know that that might happen.

Not a whole hell of a lot does these days, it seems like every time I turn around I'm have an anxiety attack.

[torilynnedestef]

The closing chapter on my 20’s

I wrote one of these approaching 25 so I feel like its only necessary to write another approaching year 30. There are still a good number of months; 8 to be exact. But I need to start winding down and really setting firm goals for the road ahead.

Happy to say I found someone amazing to spend my life with. We’ve been together for 9 months and it’s been blissful. He teaches me new things every day. And has us to listen to audiobooks each place we go. We’re always adventuring somewhere new and sharing new things with one another. Mostly him to me, and I love it. Ive always been drawn to smart men. Those full of facts and witty. He’s smart and charming and super sweet. Very empathetic with the way he treats me and others. He’s understanding and kind. It is so beautifully simple spending time with him. Effortless. It felt natural when he came into my life, almost as if I’ve always known him. Soon enough I was spending all of my free time with him. And walking his dog when he’s working and Im off. Ive grown to adore her too. My little banana loaf, seal girl, potato, Lullybeans. She’s my little shadow when im over his place. It’s adorable, but can get annoying.

Besides my love life Ive been noticing that I havent spent as much time reflecting as I should. So Im slowly getting back into that. Cooking for myself more, buying flowers for myself when I’ve had a bad day, overall just honoring myself. I need to start eating healthier so my body can feel stronger. This weekend Drew and I are in the Catskills and I was having a really hard time going uphill on one of our hikes. I don’t know if it’s just me and uphill climbs but my body and my asthma do not agree with me. We had to stop numerous times during the hike. Maybe I should just stick to swimming. Which I so badly need to go back to in the winter months. But other than that self care is also putting more of my money into my savings, opening up a 401k and cashing in my stocks so that I have them if need be. Finances are huge and will continue to be huge going into year 30. In year 30 I also want to be in a better position with Scotch & Soda, where im salary paid and Im able to set my own price and location preference. There’s thoughts about settling down and next steps for that as well. 30 is a huge period of transformation that in the next 8 months I have to mentally prepare myself for. Im ready for all that comes next, its just honestly shocking to me that Im turning that old.

But I will say this. I have an amazing support system. I was able to weed out the toxicity this past year and really focus on those who are loyal, have the same moral compass as me and accept that with growing up there is more responsibility and accountability. My friends and family are all growing with me and around me. We are strong, we are stable and we all push each other to be our very best. We lift and empower each other. One of the last things Dad said to me before he got sick was that I could do anything I put my mind too and I was never too late to start anything. Ill live by that, until the day I die.

[bandsfvck]

Justin,

Man, this entire week ive just wanted to cry but the tears won't fall. I went hiking with Julian and Eduardo on Saturday, we went t the hidden falls and got in the water. It was absolutely freezing. Once we were back in town we went in and got cfa. It was about 3pm, around the time you would typically get off, I was very scared about seeing you. Ive been thinking a lot about the situation with my mom. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to. I think that's the saddest part. After years of this continious cycle of her toxic, manipulative behavior, it doesn't phase me as much. Im almost 100% financially dependent from her. I just have to take after my can insurance and my insurance. My job gives me insurance for free, so that will be easy. She sent a long text out of nowhere saying how she was sitting in the waiting room as I was making sure I dont have cancer, I had a mass. Then she proceeded to say she knows she's a horrible parent, but she sees the way I post about my dad and she wonders why she doesn't get those nice posts. I know she didn't just compare her situation to my dead fathers. Its beyond me how she can sit there and wonder why she doesn't get the same treatment as him. I feel sad knowing I dont have a true parent, but man do I feel so strong for getting through life on my own. Everything I have, I did this on my own. I want to move to Washington more than anything. To leave this past here, start over in ways. I know a lot of things will always stay with me, but I know I could have a beautiful life somewhere else. I miss that place like I miss a person. Ive never felt more at home somewhere. Ive traveled to many other places, but no where has ever came close to Washington. As much as I miss you and want to talk to you. Im trying to learn how to let the past go. I can't keep holding onto pieces of me that dont serve me any good. I wish I didn't have to go to some fast food restaurant and have anxiety about seeing someone that I once loved so much. If you had truly loved me, you wouldn't have cheated on me. But I can't lie, I think a piece of me will always miss you, will always love you. You were the person I truly loved the most. You were my best friend Justin.. I really wish things could've been different for us. I wish we could've started a better life together. Ill always with that could've happened. You'll always be someone I love, no matter what.

-M

[keravnous]

wanna enjoy the luxury of not knowing each other for real?; rodrick heffley x reader (smut, minors dni)

read pt. I here | read pt. III here | read pt. IV here

word count: 3,7k

It's literally just a quick and filthy blowjob between classes and Rodrick teasing you a little bit, I-

warnings: all characters are 18+, she/her pronouns, semi-public sex, oral (male receiving), teasing/toying with the reader (fingering, groping), undernegotiated kinks: spanking, spit kink, cum play, face fucking, humiliation (rod's trying to cope with the shift in your dynamic), edging (reader)

thank you v for letting me blame this on you sksksks

It's been two weeks. Two weeks of longing gazes and your panties dampening when he was too close, looking at you from across the class room or hallway.

It was like hell on earth and you found yourself laying awake at night (not only due to the indian summer that struck Plainview late in autumn), flicking your fingers across your clit, trying to mimick the way Rodrick did it all those nights ago. It's not the same.

You definitely wanted to see him again, wanted his hands and tongue all over you again and it made you fucking restless. You were hardly able to focus on your homework the past weeks, let alone the matter of the classes you shared with him. You didn't know how to address it, nor how to approach him. What made the situation even worse was that the two of you didn't even return to your usual bickering and bitching. He had stopped completely.

No names, no snarky or rude remarks just - nothing.

Thus, you settled on watching him from afar and letting off steam by fucking yourself late at night.

And today wasn't any different. You found yourself staring, longing and it was eating you alive, subtly wriggling on your chair and pressing your thighs together.

"-so I already assigned each one of you a partner!", your head snaps up, looking at your teacher in disbelief, someone behind you groans loudly in annoyance, "I tried to create fair pairs, so you will all have a chance to learn something!"

You stare, blinking. No one in class looks exactly happy with her decision and you don't, either. Even though your best friend isn't in your course (usually the two of you will always work together, no matter how small the task) you'd still prefer to pick your partner for the upcoming literature project on your own.

Your gaze flickers to Rodrick. He doesn't look amused either and for a second your eyes meet. You flush and hastily look away, back onto your table. It's something in his eyes, most of the time when you exchange gazes, that looks a lot like an unspoken promise. But you don't want to get your hopes up so you decide to ignore it, convincing yourself that it's nothing.

Your teacher proceeds to read out the list of study partners and you snap back from your daydreams as you hear her read out yours.

"Miss Y/LN?", you look up, reciprocating her smile like you're on autopilot. She always liked you, being the focussed and motivated student and constantly writing good grades. "I paired you up with Mister Heffley", your heart drops and you're suddendly very hot, "I think the both of you will really profit from working together."

Fuck.

_

You take your time packing your things after your teacher has ended the lesson early. You're supposed to discuss your project with your partner in the remaining time but you hope that he just went home, not caring more about this class than he usually does.

You leave the room, assuming you're safe as you can't see him in the classroom anymore but you really should've known better.

"Hey", you hear his voice next to you and nearly jump. He's leaning against a row of lockers, right next to the classroom's door. The hallway's all empty, your teacher and the other students already gone.

"Shit, Heffley!", you exhale and he chuckles.

You look at each other, silently and you don't know what to say. Luckily, he decides it's his turn.

"So", he stretches the o and your smirk involuntarily, "Partners, huh?"

"Partners", you nod, gazes still holding each other. He clears his throat, seemingly unsure what to say next.

"I-", you start without actually knowing what to say. I want you to fuck me again? I think of you all the time? I really liked it, thank you?

Instead of saying anything you cough, in a very bad attempt to cover up your insecurity. It doesn't go unnoticed and he turns his head to the side in an equally bad attempt to hide the grin that blooms on his face.

You barely dare to meet his eyes again but when you do, Rodrick's fucking smiling. And it's kind, too, only a little mischievous.

He takes a step forward, closing in on you.

"Yeah, me too", he rasps and it dawns on you that he may became quite good on reading you in all these years of teasing, fighting and picking on you.

It sends waves of warmth down your spine and you inhale deeply. You need him. "Are you free after school?"

He tsks at that, lips curling into a smile that looks a lot like Y'heard what she just said?, playfully rolling his eyes a little.

"I'm free now, sugar."

You freeze. "Now?", you blurt out.

"Yeah, now", he huffs, one hand coming to a halt on your waist and it ignites something in you, "If you want to."

Fuck yes, you do. And yet you hiss - "Are you insane, we're at school!"

"I know a place", he's so close and you can smell both, the menthol from his gums and the smoke of cigarettes on his breath.

"You know a place?"

"I do. Wanna come with me?", the hand lets go of your waist and Rodrick offers you to take it instead.

You look at it for a second. You really shouldn't, it's a bad idea. A really bad idea, it's too risky. What if you'll get caught? Even worse, what if you'll get caught by a fucking teacher? The muscles in your abdomen clench at that.

This is insane. You're insane. He's insane.

You take his hand.

_

The air in the empty restroom is cool and your footsteps echo from the white tiles. He's right behind you and reaching over your shoulder, pushing a stall's door open before throwing a charming smile at you and guiding you in with his body. As expected, it's a small and untidy place and you make a mental note to touch as little as necessary. Rodrick's slamming the door shut behind him, turning the lock.

"There we are, princess", his bag falls to the floor with a loud thud. Your stomach fucking flutters and you want to rip it out with your bare hands, picking the butterflies and their larvae out of it. The tingles in your stomach reach your abdomen and your crotch, wetness already pooling in your panties. Your bag hits the floor as well. You simultaneously love and hate the effect he has on you.

He leans back against the door, lips pulling up in a cocky smile. "C'mere", and you do, like you're a fucking lapdog or something, crushing into his body, pressing against him. His hardening dick pokes into your hip and you hum against his lips as he pulls you into a kiss. It's as heated and quick, sloppy even, and just as you expected - as you desired. His teeth pull at your lower lip and you need more, hands darting out and roaming over his chest. You didn't really touch him the last time, with his attention mostly on your pleasure and it suddendly reminds you of something.

Your mind conjures up the image of him kneeling between your legs and stroking himself, hoisting you up to finally fuck you. You remember the sudden urge you had felt to taste him.

"'Been meaning to call you", he mumbles against your lips and the hair on your arms rises at that, "Noticed I didn't even have your number and wasn't sure if you wanted me to ask."

Rodrick's tongue pushes back into your mouth, making an answer obsolete. Your tongue is darting out and crashes into his. He groans and you come to realization that you love that noise. That you want to hear more of it.

His hand comes to a rest on your ass, gripping it, your skirt hoisting up a little in the process of it as he kneads the warm flesh. It makes you hungry for more, hungry for him and your hand wanders across his chest, down to his crotch. He's hard and so so warm even through the thick denim of his jeans and you close your hand around it, palming him through his trousers. He leans forward a little, deepening the kiss and your stomach flutters.

You don't know what time it is and how much you'll have left until the bell rings, but desire burns deep in your stomach and it spurrs you on to make a move now.

You break the kiss, panting and cheeks flushed, eyes wandering over his face. His eyes are dark, blown with lust and his lips are slightly swollen already.

"What is it, pretty girl?", he hums, fingers ghosting over your cheek.

"Wanna suck you off", you whisper and his gaze turns blank at that. It's not the reaction you expected and thus, thinking you may have said something wrong, start rambling. That is, until he throws his head back, the door rattling and barks out a laugh that is thick with disbelief. You shut your mouth. "Fuck", he breathes out, chest rising and falling heavily once or twice, shaking his head and then nodding slowly, "Yeah, fuck."

Rodrick's gaze drops down, focuses on you under heavy eyelids, nodding again. "Yeah, baby. Fuck, suck my dick." He gives your ass an encouraging and light squeeze and you bite your lip, nodding eagerly - you don't need to hear more than that.

Your hands fly down to his belt, opening it quickly and pulling down his zipper. There's a wet spot on his checkered boxers and you feel your lips tilt upwards, knowing it's you who caused his visible arousal.

You pull his boxers down a little and his dick out and swallow at the sight. It's larger than you remember, delightfully curved and cut and you can't wait to wrap your lips around it. You sink down on your knees, licking your lips and give it a few quick strokes, until he's fully hard and groaning quietly.

Your mouth waters and your tongue darts out, licking over his head, making him hum, burying a hand in your hair. "There you go", Rodrick mumbles, fingers brushing a few loose strands of hair from your forehead, subtly pressing you closer to his crotch.

You look up at that, eyes meeting his and his expression makes your stomach flutter, giving his head another lick, slower this time. He tastes salty and of musk on your tongue and your eyelids flutter.

Rodrick moans somewhere deep in his throat as you wrap your lips around the head of his dick, throwing his head back making the door rattle. "Yeah, fuck", he breathes, hand caressing your scalp, "Keep going, girl."

That you do, slowly sucking and occassionally flicking your tongue over the hot, thick head while you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, jerking him in a similar rhythm for a while.

It doesn't take long for him to strengthen the hold he has of your hair and forcing you forward a little and you are happy to oblige, letting him slide deeper into your mouth. He's heavy on your tongue and you can feel the vein on the bottom of his dick. You rub your tongue against it and Rodrick groans, chest rising and stretching, shoving himself deeper into you as his hips jerk forward. It makes you sputter a little.

"Fuuuck", his voice is so so deep and he looks at you, the way saliva pools around his dick and between your lips and then he just snaps. He growls and thrusts deep into your throat.

You choke as the head of his cock makes contact with the back of your throat and spit swells at the corners of your mouth. He pulls away a little and you take a few quick breaths through your nose. He looks at you and it makes your heart drop. He looks anxious, but it fades right away as you nod around his dick, relaxing your throat for him. You want it. You want him to use you.

He seems to catch onto that, fingers gripping your hair and pushing you closer closer closer, until your nose is buried in his pubes. Breathing is difficult and you choke around his cock again but this time it makes him moan and then chuckle a little. Your hands come to rest on his thighs.

"Atta girl", he hums and your closed eyes tear up, feeling him pressing snuggly at your throat, his musky, masculine scent fogging up your mind.

Your breath eventually slows and he notices that, too, slowly starting to fuck into your mouth after warming him for a few moments. He groans as he keeps your face pressed close to his crotch, effortlessly sliding in and out between your lips. You can taste the salt of his precum, while he keeps pushing saliva out of your mouth with every thrust. The sounds it makes are obsence, wet and squelching, interrupted by his groans and moans and accompanied by your appreciative humming.

Rodrick picks up a faster rhythm and tilts your head up a little, forcing your gaze to meet his. His cheeks are flushed and he's panting heavily.

"Shit, princess, I'm so close", he groans, as he fucks deeper into you. Your fingers clench around his thighs and he gets the memo, lets you pull your head back, spluttering, drool dripping down your chin as the head of his dick hits your lower lip.

"Want it in my mouth", you mumble against it, throat coarse and he grins at that, eyes sparkling. You dart your tongue out, invitingly and thus, he's stuffing his cock back into your mouth. He holds your head in place as he fucks deep into your relaxed throat, jaw slack and eyelids fluttering, tearing up at the rapid thrust intruding your mouth.

"Gonna-", a throaty moan interrupts him, "Gonna give you every little drop, princess." And with that he pulls away and his dick out of your mouth, starts to stroke himself to completion, tip of his dick mere inches away from your lips. "Open up, sugar", he hums and you do, tongue and lips wet with spit, mascara stains underneath your eyes and that's the thing, the view that sends him toppling over the edge, orgasm rolling over him. He has to force himself to not throw his head back in pleasure, keeps his eyes trained on you.

"'S all f'you", he strokes your hair, hand closed around his dick as he shoots heavy ropes of salty cum onto your tongue, "Good girl, just don't swallow yet, alright?"

You nod - mind in a hazy state, gladly following his orders - and hum around the head of his cock, locking gazes with him until he's fully spent, gasping heavily. He's pretty, you think, with his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, dark eyes looking down at you with blown pupils. He stuffs himself back into his shorts and pulls his zipper up while you remain infront of him, still on your knees and mouth opened, cum and saliva pooling on your tongue. You think that a little might have hit your cheek, but you can't be sure.

Rodrick closes his belt and then his attention is back on you, a hand on your chin, thumb stroking your lower lip. "Fuck, you're pretty", he grins and it's that grin, mischievous and it goes straight to your core. He slowly pushes two fingers into your mouth, liquids pooling around them as he presses down, your jaw going slack.

You mewl and he grins as a few droplets run down your chin. "Open up, pretty girl", he rasps and leans over, his lanky figure hovering over you as he's putting his lips together and spits into your mouth. His saliva drips down slowly and then lands on your tongue, warm and wet.

It mingles with his cum and your own spit and you taste him differently now, less salt and musk. Instead it's rather bitter, tastes like the smoke of his cigarettes. His fingers start to fuck into your mouth and you obediently close your lips around them, pressing your thighs together. You feel the mixture of his cum and saliva pool at the corners of your mouth and you moan around his fingers at the sensation, the taste. He flicks his digits in and out of your mouth until he seems satisfied with the way the liquid spreads around and on your lips.

"Now you may swallow", he breathes, eyed fixed on your mouth, "Be a good girl and swallow, hm."

You do as you're told, gulping around the fingers between your lips until he's satisfied and pulls them out. You look up at him, gaze hazy, lips parted and gasping for air, rubbing your thighs together. "Picture perfect, ain't ya?", he hums and dries his fingers off on your cheek, spreading his juices all over your skin, giving you a slight pat on the cheek once he's done.

You slowly get up, knees all wobbly and turn around, wiping your mouth with your hand. As you reach for your bag in an attempt to grab your water bottle, his hand grip your upper arm. "Ah, ah, ah", he says scoldingly, stopping you in your movements, "Let me see first."

His foot shuffles between yours and pushes them apart, his hands running over your back. They wander down and over your ass, the material of your skirt rustling. It's pale and pretty and your favourite and the way it pools under his fingers makes you dizzy. Rodrick tugs at it, sliding his fingers underneath it and finally pulling it up. It slides over your backside, resting at your hips and you're all exposed, the cold air of the restroom hitting your warm skin.

His hand splays out, rubbing over the soft skin of your left cheek. You sway a little with it, hands darting out and finding the stall's walls, pressing the palms flat against them for support.

"Ain't you just pretty?", he hums, voice still deep and rough from coming down your throat, while he gives your buttcheek a little squeeze, before letting his hand come down on it. You jolt and gasp, the latter fading to a quiet moan in the back of your throat. The slight sting goes straight to your core.

"Would've fucked you right here", he mumbles, hand stroking the reddening skin, fingers now dancing at the side of your panties, "but we ain't got much time left, I'm afraid."

"Rodrick, fuck", you gasp and he chuckles behind you.

"Yeah, I got you, angel. We'll have time for a little touch, I guess", two of his fingers stroke your pussy through your dampened panties, rubbing back and forth. You mewl and wiggle your hips a little, to add both, friction and speed to his slow movements. His other hand comes down sharp on you butt and you moan, letting your head fall forward. "You're so fucking wet", he rasps and you nod nod nod, like you're possessed.

"Want you so bad", you mumble and he laughs at that.

"Yeah, I can feel that", one of his fingers finds your clit, circling it slowly but with force, the wet patch pressing coolly against your warm skin. It makes you whine and you feel your pussy tense up, hole clenching around nothing.

"Rodrick, please", you gasp, rocking against his fingers and making him slap your ass twice, one blow landing on your left cheek, the other on your right. Your fingers scrape the wooden wall, moans falling off your lips. There's still some of his cum sticking at the corners of your mouth and you feel dirty, but it's the good kind of dirty. It's knowing that he loves you that way.

His fingers finally slip underneath your panties, gliding along your wet folds, obsence sounds filling the air. His middle finger sinks into you, hot walls welcoming it home. He hums and his other arm wraps around your body, hand sneaking under your shirt, slipping in the cup of your bra and groping your tits.

He begins to fuck you very slowly, fingers toying with your nipple, thumb occassionally flicking over your clit. You're hot all over, walls clenching and pumping around him, silently begging for more, moans and gasps errupting from your throat as you relish in the feeling of an approaching orgasm as -

Riiing.

Rodrick stills, and then -

"Oh, play time's over already", he sing-songs, voice deep and coarse and you shake your head violently at that, but he is already carefully pulling his finger out of you, hand slipping out of your shirt. He puts your panties back in place as you try to recover your breath, legs shaking and pussy aching from a denied orgasm.

"Please", you whine, looking over your shoulder, "Don't-"

But he cuts you off, giving you a soft peck on the lips. "Are you free tonight?"

Well, technically you aren't, an assignment still waiting for you to finish it, while you're still waiting on your friend's reply, whether she can make some time for you later or if she's preoccupied by her boyfriend. But you nod anyways, eyes a little teary due to the denied release and lust still pulsating thickly through your veins.

"I'll swing by your place later and make it up to you", he whispers against your lips, loud footsteps already filling the hallway outside, "Better clean yourself up a little now, hm, princess?"

"Yeah", you whisper, stealing a quick kiss from him, that has his tongue darting out and licking away the rest of his cum sticking to the corners of your mouth. It shouldn't be that hot but it makes fresh wetness pool between your legs. You don't know what to make out of that gesture, it's a little too fond, like he's breaking his own rules.

"Great", his hand brushes over your forearm, while he unlocks the door, already out of the stall as he turns around once more, "I'll throw my number into your locker, so you can text me your address, 'that sound cool?"

And that, that just feels like he's thrown the whole fucking rulebook out. "Yeah sure", you hear yourself say, sounding dull and far away with the thundering of your heartbeat.

It's only half an hour later and in your next class that you notice the stain his cum and spit left on your skirt.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley smut #rodrick heffley #rodrick rules #yeah he still does #devon bostick #rodrick smut #my writing #smut

[toplinetommy]

Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost

a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.

tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone

Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out

songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds

words: 20k+

warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​

“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”

You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 

“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 

“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 

“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 

“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”

“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.

With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 

“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 

“No-”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.

“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.

Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.

“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 

“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”

Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.

But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.

“You sure?”

“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.

“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”

Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”

You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”

“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.

“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 

“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”

Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”

“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.

He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.

You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.

Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.

It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.

“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”

“Correct.”

“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”

“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.

Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 

He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.

He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.

Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.

It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.

Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.

“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.

“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”

“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”

“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.

“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.

“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.

“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.

JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.

“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.

“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”

Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.

“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.

A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.

“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.

“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”

Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”

Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.

You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.

You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”

You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 

“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 

“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.

His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.

You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.

“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.

Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”

He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.

“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.

“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”

Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.

Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.

“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.

“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”

Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”

“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 

This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”

You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”

Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.

“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).

Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”

“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”

You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.

“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.

“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”

“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.

Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.

“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 

“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.

You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.

Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.

It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.

“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”

Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.

You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.

It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 

“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.

“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”

He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”

Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 

“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”

Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”

Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”

You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.

You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.

“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”

You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.

“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.

JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.

“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.

“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.

“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”

“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”

“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.

You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.

It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,

“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.

“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone

“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.

“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.

“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”

“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.

You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”

You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.

You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.

A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.

Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.

“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.

“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”

The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.

You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”

“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”

“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”

“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”

You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.

“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.

But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 

“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.

“You liked the squash, eh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 

“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.

“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.

For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.

“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”

The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.

“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.

“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”

“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.

The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.

The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.

She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.

It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 

You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 

The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 

“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.

“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”

The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.

The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.

“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.

“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.

Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.

“I think JT’s looking for you.”

Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.

Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.

“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”

The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.

“Does JT know?”

“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”

“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”

Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.

Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.

y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great

Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.

Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.

You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 

“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.

“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”

“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.

“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”

You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”

It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.

That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.

Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.

The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.

Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.

It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.

You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.

The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.

Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 

The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.

“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.

The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,

“I talked to my mom this morning.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.

“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.

All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.

It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”

It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.

You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.

His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.

Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.

“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.

JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 

Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.

“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.

The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.

You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.

He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.

“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.

Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.

“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”

You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.

You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.

Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.

“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.

“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.

His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.

Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.

Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 

Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.

He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.

His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.

“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.

His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.

He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 

His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.

He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.

The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.

You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.

You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.

“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.

“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”

There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.

He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.

“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.

“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.

His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.

When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.

The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.

He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.

You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.

He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.

Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.

“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.

“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.

It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”

Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.

“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”

He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.

You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”

And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.

You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.

The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.

That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.

You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.

“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”

“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”

Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.

JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”

Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.

“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”

Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.

“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”

Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 

It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 

Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.

As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”

“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 

JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.

Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”

“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.

“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”

Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.

With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.

Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.

“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”

“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“He literally tripped me in practice today!”

“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.

“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”

“But,”

“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”

WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.

He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.

“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”

“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”

It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.

“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.

“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”

“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.

“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”

You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 

“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.

“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”

You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”

The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”

The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.

“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”

You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.

“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.

y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚

Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.

The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.

He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”

JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.

“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.

“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.

“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”

JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.

“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”

“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.

Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.

The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.

Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.

Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.

“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.

You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.

“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.

“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.

“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.

“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,

“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.

When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.

“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”

You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 

The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.

You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.

The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.

You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.

And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.

Plus One

The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.

“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.

“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.

“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.

“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.

“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.

“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.

“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.

When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.

“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.

“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.

The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.

#tyson jost imagine #alex writes #nhl imagine #hockey writing #when i post this i’ll be at work lmao i’m really posting it then dipping

[aliensunflower-fics]

How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

 It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

 It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

 [ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

#my writing #ml salt #lila salt #lila salt prompt #now technically there isnt any actual class salt or adrien salt in here because its more of a prompt but to be safe il tag it anyway #adrien salt #class salt #ml salt prompt

[adorerdraco]

Good Enough ✧ Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

Request: hiii i love your writing!! can you write about a sweet hufflepuff and how everyone thinks they aren’t a good pair together so one day Pansy bullies the reader into breaking it off with Draco because she feels like she’s not good enough for him then draco finds out and he’s really mad at Pansy?

Another seventh year AU where Voldermort never existed !

Warnings: bullying, slight angst, crying, cursing (barely), sad!draco, angry!draco, implied smut towards the end (also extra mean slytherins for the purpose of this imagine but i have nothing against them i <3 them as much as any other house)

Words: 4.5K

A/N: hiii thank youuuu 🥺💗 !!!!!! but ahhhh omg im a hufflepuff so i hope i delivered good hufflepuff energy in this oneee :’))) i think this might be my new favorite thing ive written omg but i do not own gif 

There was truly no explanation how you, a kind Hufflepuff, managed to become friends, let alone a couple, with the proud and arrogant Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy. 

On the outside, your relationship to everyone seemed uncanny and plain wrong. Even your friends and housemates had looked down on it for a while but eventually came around and just let you be. You couldn’t say the same for the Slytherin’s, however, because if there was one house they disliked more than Gryffindor; it was Hufflepuff.

They berated you and Draco for weeks after they found out he had started a relationship with you. They scowled at you when you would walk by them sometimes calling you names depending on whether or not Draco was by your side. He always defended you and you did your best to ignore them, but they were relentless. You had only been dating for about a month now and the tantalizing comments from Slytherin’s and anyone else who wanted tear the two of you down were right now seeming endless.

“Why can’t people leave us alone,” you said sadly to him one night. You were lying with him in a patch of grass outside the castle, head against his chest as his hand lazily traced patterns onto your bicep.

“They’re only jealous,” he sneered quietly. “People get mad at what they can’t have or what they can't understand.”

Draco’s patience with people was worsening each and every day. His housemates, regularly, would corner him in the common room and interrogate him with questions that made him want to rip his hair out.

“Is this some sort of prank you haven’t told us about, Malfoy?”

“A Hufflepuff? Have you gone mad?”

“Is she blackmailing you with something, mate?”

“Haven’t you thought about how that makes us Slytherin’s look?”

“She’s a blood-traitor!”

The questioning would always lead to him yelling and threatening everyone aggressively before he locked himself in his Prefect dorm or would leave the common room altogether in a fury. Those were the days he would find you after he calmed down and would hug you tightly, pressing kisses all over your face as he praised you with everything he adored about you to how happy you made him and how perfect you were for him. 

You, on the other hand, were dealing with much worse. You never told Draco some of the awful things people would say to you when he wasn’t around. You would stand up for yourself very rarely, confrontation not really being your first approach to handling things but when the insults were bad enough, you were forced to.

You would always hear a variation of the same things said either directly to you or from obvious whispering, majority of them being from Slytherin and the occasional judgmental comment from others.

“Filthy Hufflepuff!”

“Can’t believe one of them is dating one of ours.”

“What does Malfoy even see in her?”

“You’d think someone who’s supposed to be kind wouldn’t want anything to do with such an arse.”

More than ever, Draco found himself giving you an excessive amount of compliments and reassurances that he thought would balance out the insults and criticisms you would tell him about or he would witness. Everything he would tell you was true, of course, but you always felt like he said them out of pity or like he had to.

“I appreciate you trying to make it better, but you don’t have to keep complimenting me, Dray.” You’ve said to him countless times.

And he would often respond with, “but I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Despite the constant uphill battle, your relationship with the platinum blond was everything you hoped for and more. Considering your friendship had started on rocky beginnings a year ago, you would have never thought you’d be with him now.  You couldn’t thank the stars more for when your aged and nearly blind owl had flown straight into the back of his head, pecking at him while he tried to swat it away which then led to him giving you a piece of his mind and trying to hex your owl - causing you to try to hex him just as McGonagall happened to be passing by the fiasco that landed both of you in a months-long detention for reckless magic usage. It was in detention when the two of you were forced to spend time together and realized that the other wasn’t as bad as they thought.

Draco, much like everyone else, always believed Hufflepuffs to be weak and cowardly, too kind for their own good - but he quickly learned how common of a misconception that was the longer he knew you. You always fought for what was morally right, defended those you love and are loyal to courageously, and were sweet and friendly with everyone you talked to whether you knew them or not.

He gravitated towards your kindness and empathetic approach to everything. He loved to see the smiles you put on people’s faces or the way animals would randomly come up to you and immediately trust you enough to give them gentle pets that they always leaned into. He even loved the way you talked to everyone as your equals, something he rarely saw in his environment. Everything you did was a vast difference to what he saw on the daily from his cold and aloof peers, but it was a difference he enjoyed. He wished so deeply that everyone could see and understand how amazing you were to him and he was determined to make it happen.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked shyly as he held your hand tightly in his, walking you slowly over to his large group of his closest Slytherin friends that were all gathered around a bench under a tree in the courtyard.

The Prince of Slytherin believed that if he could get his friends to at least tolerate you, then everyone else would follow in suit. He only associated himself with the best and most influential of his house so if there was anyone that could improve his current situation; it would be them. You were a little uneasy about his plan, but later agreed when he had convinced you that his idea couldn’t and wouldn’t fail.

“Of course it is!” He exclaimed encouragingly. “Plus, I’m Draco Malfoy, they’ll like anything I tell them to like.”

“Okay,” you sighed, rolling your eyes slightly at his boast.

The closer you got to them, the more you felt your hands begin to sweat and the heat crawling up your face. They all began to turn towards the two of you, their eyes focusing on you and you only with a pointed gaze. You started to realize how greatly you underestimated how intimidating they looked. Especially the one girl who made it her mission to bother you every chance she could get - always from afar while she pointed at you and whispered something into her friend’s ears while they laughed or when she would pass by you and say something rude under her breath.

“Look what Malfoy’s dragged in!” Pansy Parkinson called out with a malicious smirk on her face as she eyed you.

“Give it a rest, Pansy,” Blaise sighed, “If Malfoy wants us to meet his little friend then so be it.”

“Not my little friend, my girlfriend,” Draco corrected angrily as the two of you finally reached the group. “This is Y/N and I wanted you all to meet her since I plan on having her around for a long while, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Long while? Poor thing can’t even introduce herself,” Pansy laughed tauntingly.

“I think Draco introduced me just fine right now but if you want, I’ll do it again to make you feel better,” you smiled a big fake toothy grin at her. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Everyone snickered at your response, watching for the girl’s reaction as her nostrils flared in irritation. Draco smiled to himself and gave your hand a quick squeeze, feeling proud that you found a way to talk back to her in the nicest way possible.

“Right, well, I’m sure you know this is; Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Pike, Flint, Nott, and...” Draco pointed to everyone, trailing off when he reached the only girl in the group, “I don’t think that one needs an introduction, she rather do it herself, right Parkinson?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving the blond a false squinty-eyed grin with attitude.

“So, you want us to be the nice to the Hufflepuff then?” Zabini questions, pointing a finger towards you.

“Yes, I want you to be nice to, Y/N,” Draco corrected again, his hand getting tighter in your grasp as he spoke. “That goes for all of you and everyone else in this bloody house. I don’t want to hear anything bad about her or us coming from anyone ever again or you’ll have me to answer to. I don’t care how friendly we are.”

“So he has to defend you too now?” Pansy spoke again, “Merlin, it’s a wonder how you Hufflepuff sort even survive in this world.”

Before anyone could say anything, you mustered up all the courage you had and stepped forward towards the irked girl in front of you.

“Listen, I don’t want any more trouble with you or anyone,” you rushed out. “I just want to go about my day without having to hear how disgusting and weak I am.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate but Blaise put a hand in front of her and pushed her back before she got any closer to you.

“Alright, we’ll try,” he answered for the group quickly in an annoyed tone, “but I can’t promise that for the rest of Slytherin. They really don’t like you guys together, thinks it makes them look bad. Eventually, they’ll get tired of it and move on to the next.”

“That’s as good as its gonna get,” Goyle guffawed, Crabbe and Pike snickering alongside him.

You sighed, looking up at Draco and slightly tugging at his hand while you silently begged him to take you out of there but he didn’t catch the hint and instead did the complete opposite when he had turned towards the only boy in the group who seemed to have brains.

“Zabini, can I talk to you really quick?” He asked gruffly. Blaise deeply sighed and nodded, the two boys breaking away from the group and stopping a few feet away before talking in angry hushed voices to each other.

You - all of a sudden felt very small and sick, your eyes frantically bouncing around the group as they watched you squirm. Pansy took this as her chance to step closer towards you, stopping a few inches away from you while a smirk made its way onto her face.

“Since you obviously don’t see the bigger picture, I’ll paint it for you,” she began contemptuously, “you and Draco really don’t belong together, at all. Sure, you might think everything’s fine right now, but what’ll happen when he gets tired of defending you and proving you to everyone. You think Hogwarts is your problem? Just wait until you meet the Malfoy’s. Do you really think his father would like or even tolerate a filthy blood traitor like you?”

You gaped at her, taking a few shaky steps away from her as her words hit you like a truck.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” she gets in your face again, her hand reaching up to grip your shoulder tightly to hold you in place. “He needs to be with someone of his status, a pure-blooded Slytherin who comes from a good wealthy family who holds all the same beliefs as the Malfoy’s. If I were you, I’d end it before you ruin his life any more than you already have and end up leaving him without a family or his inheritance.”

“Are you trying to say that ‘someone’ should be you?” You question through gritted teeth, shrugging your shoulder hard out of her clawed grasp.

“I never said that,” she smiles, “but who am I to say it shouldn’t be?” 

Pansy tauntingly walked away from you, a smug look on her face as she noticed just how obviously she had hurt you. You wanted to run away and cry, but you held it together for the sake of your last remaining dignity and so that you wouldn’t please your assailant even more than you already have.

Draco turned to stroll back towards the group with Blaise, his eyes landing on your shuddering figure and the broken look in your eyes as they met his. He looked around at the rest of the group who were talking amongst themselves, unknowing to them that Parkinson had just ripped a new one on you. She stood around them, looking at her nails with an uninterested look in her eyes and when she felt Draco’s eyes on her, she looked up and smiled at him innocently. 

‘Bitch,’ you thought.

He slowly walked towards you, taking your hand and deeply frowning when you immediately slipped it out of his.

“What’s wrong?” His voice dripped with concern, his sad gray’s searching your face for any answer as to why you were suddenly acting so cold.

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed out. “Alone.”

He nodded, instinctively reaching out for your hand only for you to reject it again. He felt queasy at the response, his heart falling to his stomach as you turned around and began walking away. His legs were moving hastily behind you, a dooming tension had fallen between the two of you and he couldn’t for the life of him find a reason why.

Pansy’s words were like a game of pinball on a constant loop in your mind. Your thoughts were bumping and flying haphazardly as you tried to make sense of them and what you were about to do. And as much as you hated to admit it - the wench was right. You would never be able to offer Draco and his family anything that would ever be close to enough. You were just a sweet, regular Hufflepuff, someone far from who his family expected to date. And what if you did end up staying with him? You figured you would end up breaking up years later when he would be forced to marry someone else. Or in the slight chance, he fought against that, there was no way you’d forgive yourself if he lost his family and his future because of your own selfish needs.

You stopped at an empty corridor, sitting at one of the windowsills you regularly sat at with the platinum blond when the two of you snuck out at night to meet each other. Your head fell into your hands, your thoughts raging louder in your head and now through your body as you began to unwillingly shake. The held back tears had finally broken out in a waterfall of sadness, frustration, and grief.

Draco only watched, his heartbreaking at the sight as he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on your knees while he tried to figure out what to say.

“Darling, please tell me what’s gotten you like this,” he pleads sadly. “If it’s about what Blaise said, I made a deal with him so he would try and help.”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered, choking back the lump in a feeble attempt to try and get yourself calmed down enough to talk to him.

He sat back on his heels, his hand running down his face in distress as he racked through his brain for anything else that might have gotten you like this. He let you cry for a bit, feeling useless as he watched you go through an internal battle he had no clue about.

“Then what is it? Tell me and I’ll fix it,” he says softly when he saw your tears had finally been reduced to stray droplets on your face.

“You can’t,” you sniffle. Your hand weakly brushed over his paled slender fingers that were holding your knee gently. He turned his palm upwards for you and you placed your shaking hand in his while you basked in the final moments of his warmth. You regrettably slipped out of his grip before you spoke the words you couldn’t take back. “We can’t be together anymore.”

Draco blinked, his stomach dropping as soon as the words left your mouth. “What?”

You stood up, backing away from him as you shook your head. “Everyone was right - I’ll never be good enough for you, for your friends, for your family. You deserve to be with someone who makes your life easier, not harder.”

“Where did all this come from?” He asks incredulously, standing up from his spot on the floor as he painfully watched your slowly retreating figure. “It’s all rubbish is what it is. You’ve never made my life harder.”

“Draco, look around you!” You exasperated, your arms flailing around you. “You had to make a deal with your own friends for them to even be nice to me. Your house can’t stand me and they take it out on the both of us! And what about your parents? You know for a fact they would hate me, don’t even try and deny it.”

Pale hands ran through his hair, his fingers pulling at the platinum strands in frustration.

“I thought you didn’t care about all that,” he said woefully. “I thought you’d know by now none of it matters.”

“Well, I care now,” you answer back gloomily. “And you should too.”

There was a spinning and nauseating feeling in the pit of the Slytherin’s stomach, his heart violently jumping around in his chest as he let you storm away from him. 

He let his back fall against a pillar, a deep and burning exhale falling from his trembling lips while he stared at a live painting across from him. It was of three women, the chalices in their hands supposed to be joined in a toast above them while they smiled gleefully in celebration, 3 of Chalices, it read in the caption below the frame. Instead of being in their usual position, they stared at him with pity in their softly painted eyes as they slowly raised their cups towards him in a way of showing their condolences.

He nodded curtly at them before he kicked himself off the wall and dragged himself towards the Great Hall where they were serving dinner and where he would undoubtedly find his so-called friends. He prepared himself to break the news to them, knowing they would be over the moon about it and as much as he wanted to join them in their delight, he couldn’t push away the large ache that had settled itself in his chest.

“We’re done,” he muttered dreadfully to himself, “it’s over.”

He was testing out different ways he could tell everyone the long-awaited news but they all left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I think you’ll all be delighted to know, Y/N-” he tried again but he lost his train of thought when he spoke your name. It was like taking an invisible kick to his heart as if Peeves the Poltergeist had somehow crawled into his body and was wreaking his usual havoc on his insides. 

The second he stepped into the Great Hall and saw his group sitting there, eating and laughing amongst everyone else, he felt sick all over again. There was no way he could stomach the triumph they were about to unleash, but he sucked it up and drudged towards them anyway.

“You look ghastly,” Pansy snickers, already having a feeling as to why he looked so rough. He stopped at the bench, hesitating to sit down because he knew he’d want to dash the second everyone started to relentlessly bash you.

“Deal’s off, Zabini,” the blond spoke lowly. “I’m not with Y/L/N anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re better off without her, Malfoy,” Blaise said delightedly. “Can’t believe you nearly had us associating with a blood traitor. It’s better that she’s gone.”

“Yeah, we ought to thank Pansy for that,” Crabbe laughed loudly through a mouthful of food. Pansy kicked his shin under the table, and he recoiled too fast, the food in his mouth getting shot in the wrong direction as he started choking.

“Pansy?” Draco repeated, his eyes falling towards the shying girl. “What did Pansy do?”

“What?” Crabbe coughed roughly, “did no one else see her talking to the ickle Hufflepuff?”

Pansy kicked him again and he wailed out a “stop kicking me, you donkey!”

Any ounce of sadness Draco had in his body was immediately washed out in rage. He wanted to flip over the table and scream at everyone in his path, but he only turned towards Pansy again and asked her calmly.

“What did you say to her?”

“I only told her the truth!” She said coyly, holding her hands up in defense.

“What” his fist had slammed onto the table making everyone sitting near the contact jump in surprise, “did you say to her!”

“The truth! Or are you too blind to see it too?” She sneered at him. “Do you honestly think the two of you would last? Look at who you are, Draco!”

“Talk to me ever again and I swear I’ll hex you,” he spat, turning hot on his heel as he stormed out of the Great Hall, his friends staring at his retreating figure in shock at the outburst.

Draco found himself rushing through stairs and corridors, his heart racing as he searched for the place he just knew you’d be. Now that he knew the full story, he needed to talk to you. Even if you didn’t change your mind, he wanted to at least try to fix what had been broken. The tall and bronzed doors were ajar, a small light filtering through the dark corridor he was nearly running down. 

A mop of bright silver hair had peaked through the crack in the doors of the Hogwarts kitchen, worried gray eyes following in suit as they searched the room for its target. He found you hunched over a small dessert plate, a half-eaten cake being drenched in your tears that never seemed to stop. There was a house-elf next to you, looking up at you from the floor in concern while they patted your leg. 

“Mister!” a scraggly voice croaked out from below him. He looked down to find a rugged looking house-elf staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows and hands on its hips. “Students are prohibited in the kitchen.”

“There’s a student right there,” he pointed towards you.

“She’s an exception!” the elf exclaimed wildly.

Draco shook his head before walking past the small creature, power walking straight towards you while it ran behind him.

“Wait till Gonpy tells the Headmaster about this!” The elf calls, “Gonby asks your name, sir!””

“Vincent Crabbe,” Draco answers mindlessly as he continued walking towards the far end of the room that very closely resembled the Great Hall and its vastness.

The familiar accent rang through your ears, your glassy eyes shooting up in surprise when you see the reason for your tears hurrying towards you.

“Before you say anything, you need to listen to me,” he starts desperately once he reaches you. “I know it was Pansy who put those thoughts into your head. I know you think you’re not enough for me. And I know you think I was always complimenting you out of pity, but you couldn’t be more wrong about any of that. I say all those things to you because I mean it. You are everything to me. You are more than enough for me just by being you. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been and sometimes I wonder if I’m even good enough for you. But you need to understand how much I love you.”

“Draco,” you breathe, heart leaping in your chest at his rambling speech, “I love you too. But what about everyone else, how are we even supposed to be with each other in peace?”

“To hell with everyone else,” he responds quickly, walking around the edge of the table so that he was now only mere centimeters away from you. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you blink at him, “but do you really think your parents would let this happen?”

“We’ll deal with them when the time comes,” he mumbles, his hand finding its way to your puffy cheek where he let it rest. “Besides, my mother likes anything that makes me happy, so I know for a fact at least she will end up loving you just as much as I do.”

You nodded happily, a new hope bubbling in your stomach as you lurched towards him and hugged the stressed boy against you tightly. The both of you let out a breath of relief at the same time from the contact, finally feeling back in balance after the short-lived sorrow. 

He pulled away from you and leaned down into you, his lips capturing yours in a tender and passionate kiss. That was when the elves you had forgotten about had quickly stopped eavesdropping, scurrying themselves away from the table as they went to start cleaning up the kitchen. 

It was minutes before you had finally pulled away, looking dreamily into the happy gray’s that gazed back at you. You admired him for a couple seconds, feeling very content before you reached up towards him again, tangling your hands in his hair and pressing another kiss onto his now swollen lips. He moved needily against you, pushing your body flush the table as he held you tightly against him.

“Ahem,” a small voice uncomfortably called out from below. It was the same elf who had chased Draco down the kitchen when he walked in, a frown on his face as he stared at the two of you. “Gonpy and the house-elves make food here!”

“I’m sorry, Gonpy,” you hurriedly apologize, ripping yourself away from a ragged breathing Draco as you bent down to shake hands with the elf. “Thank you for making me cake and letting me cry here, you’re a Hogwarts hero.”

“Gonpy thanks you, Miss Y/L/N! The truest, kindest Hufflepuff!” 

Draco bit back a smile at the interaction. You stood up and reached your hand behind you for the Slytherin to take and as the two of you walked away, he yelled out a quick, “Thanks Gonpy!”

And once the two of you were near the exit, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed his body against your back, lowering his mouth towards your ear and kissing the skin right below it before whispering, “do you want to go back to my dorm?”

You nodded eagerly, giggling loudly as the two of you stumbled out of the door underneath his hold and into the dimly lit corridor before pulling apart and racing towards the direction of the dungeons with his hand interlocked in yours.

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x oc #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy x female reader #draco imagine #draco angst #draco fluff #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 1: Glad I Didn’t Make it that Far (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister! imagine)

Trigger warning: Talk of eating disorders

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 1x04 that show up here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"We should go to a movie," your best friend Emma suggested when you were sitting on the playground of Central Chicago's elementary school one summer day.

You had been coming here since it was pretty close to your house to be able to read without worrying that your dad would show up drunk. He wasn't violent, he was just rude, asking why there was no food and when you explained it was because he wasn't going shopping, he'd scoff and tell you to get a job if you wanted to eat. It wasn't your fault; you'd tried to get a job, but no one would hire you because you were only fourteen. Most places required that you be at least sixteen and the occasional place would let you start at fifteen, but only with very limited hours. And, the places that let you start at fifteen were too far away for you to walk to. You'd have to take the El...and that would turn out badly if Will and Jay found out, even though your dad wouldn't care in the slightest.

"Em, I don't have any money. I'm literally rationing out my feminine products at this point."

"Hey, just tell me if you need any. Me or my mom can get you some. Oh, and some neighbors of mine run a little kettle corn company. They're looking for some extra help on the weekends and they'll pay you under the table. I can give you their number if you want."

"Really?" Emma smiled and nodded. "Yes, please! And, you're the best."

But, what you didn't tell her was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday since there was barely anything in your house and that your cramps were killing you and because of all this, you were feeling nauseous.

"Let's go to the movies. My treat."

"I can't let you pay for me."

"Yes, you can. Best friends help each other out. Now c'mon, let's go." You sighed and closed your eyes as you stood up. "You good?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"You wanna go home?"

"No, no I'm fine. Just seasonal allergies from all the pollen," you lied.

"Okay, let's go."

You started to slow down as you got closer to the movie theater. "I'm so excited to see The Longest Ride!" Emma squealed. "Scott Eastwood is just mwah!"

"Yeah, but he's- he's a lot-- I gotta, I gotta sit down," you stuttered, starting to feel more lightheaded and seeing your vision become blurry at the edges.

"Okay, let's get to the front where you can sit on the curb."

You slowly started to make your way there, but it was too late. "Em- Emma," you slurred as you tried to reach for her as your legs gave out underneath you, and then everything went black.

"Y/N!" Emma yelled as she squatted down next to you and pulled out her phone.

Just then, everyone started running out of the theater shouting something about a shooting.

***

Will's pager went off as he was eating with Natalie and the rest of the team from a taco truck outside of Chicago Med. And, everyone else's pagers were going off, too, making it sound like alarm clocks that were all set for the same time. Then, Maggie ran outside.

"Shooting in a movie theater! Mass casualties! It's about to get crazy!" she yelled to the doctors and other nurses. "EMTs are four minutes out!"

Not even a second after she finished her sentence, an ambulance pulled up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"Check that!" Will yelled as he threw his food in the trash can. "They're here!"

Then, all of them sprinted into the hospital, their main focus now being saving as many lives as possible.

"Another maniac gone crazy in a theater," Will said as he put something over his scrubs to keep them from getting blood all over them. "Is this the world we live in?"

***

You slowly opened your eyes to be met with the white ceiling and an IV in your arm. You groaned. "Where am I?" you asked as you rolled over to see Emma sitting on a bench. "Are we in an ambulance?"

"You don't remember?" Emma asked.

"You passed out, sweetie," a female paramedic told you as she put a blood pressure cuff around your arm. "Luckily for you, we came pretty quick after hearing about the shooting."

"The shooting? There was a shooting?"

"In the movie theater," the paramedic answered you. "You were lucky you didn't go in."

"Guess so."

Your eyes widened as you realized they were probably taking you to Chicago Med. You couldn't let your brother know that the most likely reason for you passing out was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. They'd freak out.

"Am I good to go when we get to the hospital? I feel fine." You were still nauseous, but that was better than being passed out.

"You passed out, we need to get you checked out at the hospital."

"But I feel fine," you protested.

"I understand that, sweetie. But you need to get checked out anyway to make sure that there wasn't something that made you pass out other than the heat."

"She's right, Y/N," Emma said. "You need to get checked out."

You huffed. "Fine." Maybe Will would be too busy to even notice you were there. And, you figured your dad wouldn't pick up his phone, so you could just sneak out undetected when the doctors and nurses weren't watching.

When you got in, you were met by Natalie. "Y/N?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing. I just passed out. I'm fine, really."

"Shoot," Emma said. "My mom's here to pick me up. Said she doesn't want me here because of all the press since I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

You waved your hand. "It's fine. Hopefully, I'll be getting out here soon, too. See you later."

"Bye, Y/N."

"If you passed out, you're not fine, Y/N," Natalie said.

As you were wheeled past a trauma room, you saw your brother. Luckily for you, he was too focused on his patient that he didn't notice.

"Want me to get Will?" Natalie asked when she saw you glance in there.

"No! I mean, he looks really busy and I'm not dying. They should be the first priority."

"Okay, well I'll have Maggie call your dad because after all the standard tests, if I need to do more, I'm going to need your dad's permission since you're still a minor."

"Okay."

"Hey, Maggie," Natalie called, "Do me a favor and call Y/N's dad for me. I just might need permission to run some additional tests."

"You got it."

You got on the bed in the treatment room and allowed Natalie to listen to your heart and lungs. "Were you part of the crush?" she asked. "Did you get the wind knocked out of you? Is that why you passed out?"

"No, I got dizzy before we could get inside. I felt nauseous, too, but I think that was just from period cramps."

"The paramedics said you were dehydrated and that they had to administer an IV. Have you been eating and drinking properly? I know it's hot and that can cause you to pass out. Other than that factor, have you been eating and drinking normally?"

"Yes," you lied.

"Okay, I'm just going to need to get your height and weight and other vitals before we continue."

You nodded and followed her to where she took your height and weight. She wrote it down and you started to walk out, but she stopped you. "Uh, Y/N, come with me."

You followed her to the doctor's lounge where she handed you her sweatshirt. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You bled through your shorts. There's free pads and tampons in the bathroom if you don't have any on you."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"Meet me back here once you're finished."

"Okay."

When you got into the bathroom, you took all the pads and tampons you could fit in your shorts pockets after you had finished changing your dirty one.

Now, it was time for your great escape. No one would see you; they were all too busy treating other patients and worrying about the press.

You were almost out into the waiting room, but then a voice stopped you.

"Y/N?"

Shit. Jay.

You stopped in your tracks but then continued walking.

"Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around, hoping you wouldn't have to spill all the secrets about what's been happening at home.

***

"Poor guy," Erin said as she and Jay exited Sharon Goodwin's office. "He thought what he was going was right."

"I probably would've done the same thing if I were in his shoes," Jay agreed. "I mean, if I thought I saw a guy with an AR-15 in a movie theater and then thought the shots from the movie were coming from the gun, I sure as hell would've acted. Not that my service weapon can shoot bullets off as much as my sniper, but I'd try. Try and save civilians."

"Jay." Erin placed a hand on his arm. "You're not in Afghanistan anymore."

"I know. There's just some sick and twisted people in this world. Why would someone go into a theater with a leaf blower anyway? With all the mass shootings that have happened, that's probably the stupidest idea I've heard."

"I agree with you. But he's just a kid. He didn't ask to get shot. But, if I were in that teacher's shoes, I'd probably do the same thing and draw my gun."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he saw someone walking towards the exit of the ED and towards the waiting room. She had shorts and a t-shirt on with a burgundy sweatshirt tied around her waist. Jay wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he knew you had the same gray beat-up Converse because he had gotten them for you for a birthday present two years ago and you always wore the same polka dot scrunchie when you needed your hair to be in a bun and needed it to be tight.

"Is that?..." Erin trailed off.

"I think so," Jay answered, quickening his pace to catch up with you before you got out of the ED and he lost sight of you due to the number of people in the waiting room. "Y/N!" he yelled.

The girl he thought was you froze for a split second and then continued walking, this time at a faster pace. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around.

"I was going to tell you," you mumbled once you were in front of him.

He scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Yeah? And when were you planning on calling Dad? You know you're a minor so a parent needs to be notified."

"Y/N!" Natalie yelled. "I thought you left, I was so close to getting security to look for you. We couldn't get a hold of your dad and were going to call Jay since he's your secondary emergency contact, but he's here now, so if both of you could follow me then that'd be great."

"You got it from here, Erin?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, text me if you need me to pick you up and bring you back to the district."

"Will do. Don't let Voight bust my balls because I skipped out."

"I'll tell him Y/N had a medical emergency. He'll understand."

"Thanks."

You, Natalie, and Jay walked back into the treatment room where Natalie had been previously treating you.

"First of all, let me just say it was not a medical emergency," you told your brother.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was feeling nauseous."

"And you came to the ED just because of some nausea?" He raised an eyebrow. He so knew you were lying.

Meanwhile, Will was walking out of a trauma room after Rhodes brought a victim up to surgery.

"Hey. You hear?" Reese asked as she walked up to the doctor. "The kid at the theater, the one who got shot, he didn't have a gun, he had a leaf blower."

"What?" Will asked, stunned. He had worked on that kid and knew that it wasn't good.

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of prank." She was about to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and your sister's here. Treatment one."

"What? Why?"

"I think she passed out or something. Dr. Manning's in there with her right now."

"Thanks, Reese."

Will barged into your treatment room. "So, she comes into the ED and nobody has the common decency to even notify me?" he asked rhetorically.

"You were busy treating other patients, Will. I was going to get around to it eventually," Natalie said.

"Natalie, please just finish explaining what happened. Or just start from the beginning because Will's here now," Jay suggested, not wanting to have to break up an argument between the two doctors.

Now it was Will who was the one who crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, Will, what happened was that Y/N passed out. She was almost inside the movie theater, but she passed out, so she didn't go in."

"The movie theater where the shooting happened?" Jay asked. You nodded. "Jesus, kid, if you would've gotten inside, you would've given both me and Will heart attacks."

"Sorry. But, I'm glad I didn't get that far."

"Yeah, us too," Will agreed. "So, why'd she pass out?"

"Can I talk to you two for a minute? Outside?"

They nodded. "Be right back," Jay told you.

"So, what's going on?" Jay asked once the three were safely outside of the room and out of earshot from you.

"Have you noticed anything strange with her eating habits lately? Any skipping meals? Going to the bathroom right after meals? Not wanting to eat?" Natalie asked the two brothers.

"No, nothing," Jay answered. "Granted, we don't eat with her a lot because she lives with our dad and we both live on our own."

"Okay, because since her physical check-up a month and a half ago, Y/N's lost fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen?" Will asked, flabbergasted.

"I thought she looked smaller, but I just thought I was hallucinating from lack of sleep because of all the crazy cases we've had," Jay said.

"No, she's lost fifteen pounds since her last check-up," Dr. Manning reiterated.

"So, what are you saying?" Will asked. "Our sister's anorexic? Bulimic?"

"I'm not saying any of those yet. But, I talked to Dr. Charles while Y/N was in the bathroom and she said to try and have her eat something, like the greasiest thing you can find in the cafeteria, and see what she does. We'll even leave the room after to chat and I'll have Maggie keep an eye on the bathrooms to see if she goes in there. If she refuses to eat or freaks out over it, then we might be dealing with anorexia. If she goes into the bathroom after, we might be dealing with bulimia. Or, it could be a combination of the two or just possibly her trying to lose weight. Has she ever mentioned wanting to lose weight to either of you?"

"No, not all," Jay answered. "Even when we went out after her last day of school, which I think was about two weeks after she had that physical, she ate a ton and she didn't go to the bathroom right after."

"But you did go home right after," Will pointed out.

"Yeah."

"But, with some bulimics, if they know that the food has already been digested, they won't try to purge. And, it sounds like the food had time to digest."

"Alright, I'll go grab her a bacon cheeseburger."

"And a side of mac n cheese," Jay suggested. "She loves that stuff." Will started to walk out, but Jay stopped him once more. "Can you pick me up a bacon cheeseburger, too? I'm hungry."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but just so you know, you're paying me back."

"I know," Jay said and then went back inside the treatment room.

"Where's Will?" you asked.

"He's getting you some food. How does a bacon cheeseburger and mac n cheese sound?"

God, your mouth watered just at the thought of the bacon cheeseburger alone. The juicy patty, melty cheese, and crispy bacon, yum. And, you hadn't had a burger in who knows how long.

"That sounds amazing honestly," you answered.

"Okay, good because that's what Will's getting you." He paused. "Is everything okay with Dad? Everything good at home?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied.

"Did someone tell you that you were fat at all?"

Shit, he knew I'd lost weight. "No," you answered. "I guess I'm not just mindlessly snacking when I'm doing homework anymore. It's not like I'm trying to lose weight."

No way were you going to tell him that there was rarely any food in the house, not here anyway.

"Okay, good," Jay answered. Then, he looked out of the room to see Will talking with Natalie. But, they were close enough that you could hear them, so you turned your attention to the two as well.

"Hey, Nat," Will said, carrying a bag with three cheeseburgers and a side of mac n cheese.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm thinking, I only live a mile from you. So, when you go into labor, call me. I'll drive you here."

"Thanks, but...you know it could be three in the morning, right?"

"Sleep's overrated anyway."

Then, Will made his way back into your treatment room. "I wanna take you to the hospital," Jay mocked. "Very smooth, Will, very smooth."

"Will's got a crush, Will's got a crush," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Would you two knuckleheads keep it down? And no, I do not have a crush, I was just trying to be helpful."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right. You totally have a crush on her, man. Now, give us the food and we won't say anything."

***

"Everything seem normal?" Natalie asked Will as Jay was still sitting with you after the three of you had finished your food.

"Yeah, she ate a little faster than normal, but we waited an hour and she didn't even get up to go to the bathroom, so I don't think that's the issue. She told Jay she wasn't trying to lose weight. She said she just wasn't mindlessly eating anymore when she was doing homework. But, I don't think that could make her lose fifteen pounds. Do you?"

"No. But unfortunately, given her height and age, she still has a normal BMI, so we can't do anything."

"Yeah, I get it. Me and Jay will keep an eye on her. It was around this time when our dad just kind of checked out on parenting us."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't cook or really help us with anything. But, it was okay because our Mom was still around, so she'd cook and help us with things. He just thought we were old enough to deal with stuff on our own."

"Things that a teenager without another parent still needs help with."

"Exactly."

Jay poked his head out of the room. "Everything good? Y/N's asking when she can leave."

Will rolled his eyes. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Shut up."

"I'll grab you the discharge papers," Natalie said and then walked to a nurse's station.

Just then, Will's pager went off. "I gotta go." He fished into the pocket of his scrubs. "You can take my car home and then just come pick me up from work and we can drive back to the district to get your truck. That way you don't have to bug Erin."

"Thanks, man. Go save some lives."

Natalie came back and handed him the discharge papers.

"Thanks, Nat. Me and Will will be sure to keep an eye on her, maybe have her over for dinner once or twice a week to monitor her eating habits."

"That's a good idea. Good luck with all this. Will told me that this was around the time that your dad clocked out on you, so maybe pay him a visit when Y/N's not there and check? I don't know if that's something you'd want to do or not."

Jay nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem."

Jay signed the discharge papers and then walked back into the room. "Good news."

"We can leave?" you asked excitedly as you sat up.

"We can leave," he confirmed.

***

You got out of the car and stood on the stoop of your house, Jay right next to you. "Jay," you started, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything."

You opened your mouth to tell him that there was barely any food in the house and that your dad refused to buy you feminine hygiene products because, by his logic, if he had another son, he wouldn't need to buy them, so you should buy them yourself.

But then, the door opened, revealing your dad.

"I was just going to say thanks for staying with me at the hospital. I would've left if you didn't stop me."

"You're welcome."

"Care to tell me where you've been?" your dad asked.

You knew he was just putting on a show because Jay was there.

"I was at the park and then me and Emma were going to see a movie and then--" your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message.

"I've got it from here, Y/N. Dad, can I come inside?"

Pat Halstead nodded and you walked inside followed by your brother. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change," you said.

As you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a bunch of grocery bags, all of them full. He must've gone grocery shopping. At least you didn't have to worry about food for the next few days. But, you didn't know if he just did that because he finally listened to his voice mails and heard that you were in the hospital and were worried that they were going to find out that he was an unfit parent or because he finally came to his senses and realized that he was still responsible for you because you were a minor, which meant he needed to have food in the house.

As you walked upstairs, you checked your phone. It was Emma's neighbor asking if you could start helping her with kettle corn this Saturday. You responded with a yes because now, if your dad went back to not buying groceries, at least you'd be able to buy some for yourself.

A/N: Sorry this one was so short! It's kind of just to foreshadow the next installment of this. And, in the next installment, I will probably combine Seasons of PD: Season 4 and Seasons of Med: Season 2 because the storylines kind of go together. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll be happy to add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

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[nyctophilin]

Fake affection | I

sweet anon: Can I request a dom! Han Jisung smut? Where he and the reader are fake dating because Jisung want's to make someone jealous but ends up fucking the reader instead? I love your writings so much!!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mention of masturbation

A/N: Wow, so it looks like I am unable of making short fics, haha. I planed for this to be a one-shot but it’s already this long and I don’t want to bore you guys with long fics so I will make a second part and a third if needed but I doubt. I really hope you guys like this one. Feedback is very much appreciated.

      Y/N was tapping her finger on the desk, her head resting in her palm. She was watching the professor walk around in front of the class explaining something but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was filled with thoughts about whether or not she was going to get the role. 

      Some people from her university that were majoring in Film Production had to write a script for a short movie and the best five got chosen to be produced. Initially, she believed that only Theater and Film Majors could participate at the auditions but the administration of the school made an announcement one morning informing them that everyone could take part in the audition process. That meant she had to deal with more competitors for the role she wanted.

      Initially, Y/N was the only one who wanted to audition for the main role of one of the movies since people didn’t really catch its concept that well. When the audition day finally came, one Modern Dance major showed up out of nowhere and auditioned as well. The apparition of that particular character made her blood boil with anger.

      Her competitor for the role was none other than Mina, her so-called enemy. They weren’t enemies in the real sense of the word. They just simply didn’t click with one another and silently agreed a long time ago to ignore each other. They weren’t pulling childish stunts on each other, they didn’t speak each other's names unless necessary, they didn’t try to win each other in grades or parties or body counts. They were just mutually ignoring one another. And everything was fine until she showed up there.

      Y/N wasn’t going to lie and say that Mina wasn’t good. Her performance wasn’t exceptional but for someone that has never done that before, she was fairly good. That had her worried about her chances of getting chosen.

      When the bell finally rang ending her suffering she got up in the split of a second and left the room. She could not bear to hear any more of the professor’s babbling. Her boots let out quiet thuds every time they touched the concrete floors. She found herself in front of the announcement board but the paper that was supposed to tell her if she got chosen or not, was missing. Thinking to herself that they probably will put it up later she turned on her heels and made her way towards the cafeteria.

      She met her friend Hayoon there and they sat down at a table situated in the centre of the cafeteria. They talked about how they had been up until then and Hayoon complained about one of her classes and how she’s going to fail it.

      The chatter in the cafeteria died down when the door was slammed open and Mina stomped in, a bitter expression on her face. “I can not believe that they made me a stunt double! What does that even mean?” Her voice was louder than it should have been as she addressed her friends. Her intention was most probably to attract attention.

      A smirk crept on Y/N’s face as she realised that she did, in fact, get the main role. She gave her friend a suggestive eyebrow raise as she slowly took the chopstick to her mouth. Her face dropped when she heard the stomping approaching her. “Hey, loser, what’s a stunt double?” Mina’s voice was scratching her ears. How she managed to sound like one of those toys for dogs sometimes, she’ll never understand.

      “I can’t believe you’ve auditioned for a role without knowing what a stunt double is.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the other girl and a few people from around them chuckled. Mina’s face caught a crimson colour as the embarrassment settled in.

      “Haha, you are so funny!” It was clear by now that the girl was trying to mask her flustered form by trying to embarrass Y/N back.

      The truth was that she didn’t mean to make fun of her. She just let her first thoughts leave her mouth. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” A sigh left her lips. “A stunt double is a person that executes all the dangerous or action scenes for the main actor so they don’t get injured. Stunt doubles are usually gymnasts, people that know martial arts and all that jazz. They probably chose you because of your dance background.”

      “I can’t believe it. Not only they didn’t give me the role, but they are also going to use me to protect you?” Mina had an annoyed expression.

      “Oh please! Did you really think they were going to choose you? You entered that room without even knowing the concept and somehow managed to get the feel right a couple of times. Meanwhile, some of us actually prepared for that audition.” Y/N was fed up with Mina’s princess behaviour. Always thinking that everything is rightfully hers and expecting everyone to kiss her ass. All that just because her father was donating a big sum of money to the university every term. They are donations at the end of the day and she should not be expecting special treatment just for that.

      Mina’s face became a crimson red for the second time in ten minutes and she stomped away from Y/N’s table. The few people that were watching them averted their eyes when Y/N took a look around.

      From the corner of the cafeteria, someone was watching them with a smirk on their face. Oh, how he got just the perfect idea.

            Y/N sat in the second closest row to the professor. She was in “Canto class” as she liked to call it. It was one of the optional classes she chose to take that year. It wasn’t a compulsory class for Theater and Film majors since you don’t necessarily have to know how to sing to be an actress but she took it anyway because she thought it would be fun. And so far it was.

      A loud bang invaded her left ear and she turned to find Han Jisung having his back to her and chatting with his friends that were seated a few rows behind them. She raised her eyebrow but didn’t question it. It wasn’t like the seat was occupied and she definitely had nothing against him sitting next to her. He probably just wanted to pay more attention since he and his friends are always distracted during class. 

      Y/N turned back to her stuff and opened her notebook to take another look at the notes from last class. Soon after the professor entered the classroom and the chatter died down. 

      She was vigorously writing in her notebook everything the professor was explaining to them. Suddenly she felt a touch on her left elbow and stopped for a second. She immediately resumed her writing, convinced that he probably did that by mistake. Not even a minute later she felt another touch on her elbow this time more evident. She ignored it again not paying much mind to it. Jisung’s elbow collided with hers causing her to push her notebook and scribble on it.

      She snapped her head towards him and felt anger overcome her when she noticed the smirk on his face. “What?” She whispers yelled in his direction.

      “Hi!” He did a short wave of his hand in her direction and she clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going back to her note-taking. She had only five minutes of peace before he poked her side again. She smacked his hand away from her and continued to mind her own business.

      Throughout the class, Jisung kept bothering her and trying to talk to her despite her obvious wish to let her take notes. When the bell rang she got up quickly, her blood boiling and left the room in a hurry hoping she could lose Jisung on the busy halls. As she was hurriedly making her way between the sea of people she felt an arm going over her shoulders and she crashed with the owner of the arm.

      “Why are you in such a hurry babe?” Jisung’s voice rang in her ear as they were practically glued to each other. She grabbed his hand and swung his arm away from her shoulders.

      “For the love of God, what do you want from me Han Jisung?” Exasperation was present in her voice as she threw him an ugly look.

      She couldn’t guess what he needed from her to annoy her to that extent. They were acquaintances and nothing more. They knew each other from that one class they shared and the longest interaction they had was when the professor prepared an interactive class once and they had to work in groups of five.

      He was the university’s “heartthrob” as people liked to call him. Y/N personally thought that that title should be given to Hwang Hyunjin who was majoring in Modern Dance. He was more mature than the rest of his friends, he was friendly with everyone and wasn’t pulling pranks on innocent people to entertain some brainless creatures. But who was she to oppose the masses?

      On top of doing all those things, Jisung was also in a relationship with Mina. Every time they are together they will target someone and will start making fun of them. More Mina than Jisung but he was still entertaining her actions and that made him as guilty as she was.

      “I need to ask you something. Or better, make you a proposal.” He winked at her and she felt an uncomfortable shiver run through her. How disgusting.

      “Ok, and what is it?” She threw him an expectant look and he started looking around.

      “Let’s talk outside where there are fewer people. You got a free period, right?” Confusion made its way on her face.

      “How do you know that? Are you weirdo following me?” She has never talked with him as friends and they share only one class. How on earth would he know her schedule?

      “What? No! I see you hanging out around the university all the time after our class.” She rolled her eyes at his answer and gestured her hand towards the closest exit out of the building signalling him to lead the way.

      Very soon they were seated on a bench under a tree somewhere behind the university. It was her first time coming there. Y/N usually liked to remain at the front of the building since couples usually liked to come there and make out sometimes even fuck.

      “I think we should start dating.” He blurted out and she froze for a second before jumping to her feet startling the man.

      “I knew you were fucking weird. I’m leaving!” What in the actual fuck did she think when she came here. For a second she expected a real conversation but Jisung’s main skills were flirting and making bad jokes. She set her expectations way too high for that conversation.

      She picked her bag from the bench and started leaving only to have Jisung grab her wrist and stop her. “Wait, let me explain. I swear you’ll understand better after.” Y/n wanted to turn and leave but the puppy dog eyes he gave her made her stay and listen to him. Now, don’t get her wrong, his expression didn’t soften her but if he was desperate enough to try the puppy eyes on her then it must be important to him.

      She plopped down on the bench and waited for him to start talking. “Look, I’m pretty sure you know Mina. And I know you two aren’t on great terms. I say we date so you can get back at her for all the things she has done to you.” He raised his eyebrows at her and pursed his lips.

      Y/N was the one that raised her eyebrow next as she leaned her head to the side. “Aren’t you and Mina dating?” 

      “Obviously not.” Jisung used a tone that pissed Y/N off. A tone that said ‘It was so obvious, how can you not know?’ and she didn’t like it one bit.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have read the signs the wrong way. I mean, it's not like you are always together and you carry her backpack around and you hang out outside of school six days out of seven and kiss before classes and make out behind the university probably right on this bench.”

      A smirk appeared on Jisung’s face. “Who’s following who now?”

      “Don’t flatter yourself. Mina’s voice is so annoying I could hear her every time she talked. When I would turn to see what was up now you two were most times engaged in some sort of PDA.” She spoke fast trying to prove that she wasn’t following him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do that but the thought of Jisung thinking that she has some sort of interest in him was terrifying. He completely humiliated the last “unpopular” girl that confessed her feelings to him and at that moment the last thing she needed was for him to go around saying she is a stalker.

      “Well, we are getting there. I asked her out and she said that she’ll love to but it’s too fun to tease me. When I asked her ‘What if I get a girlfriend?’ she told me I can not find anyone better for me than her. When I saw you fighting in the cafeteria earlier I knew I found my perfect girl. Not only are you hot, but she also hates you.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words.

      “Hot?” Her tone was untrusting as this was the first time someone from uni had said that to her. 

      “Yeah. You didn’t think that guys came to last year’s theatre spectacles because they were actually interested in theatre, right?” A laugh left his mouth at her dumbfounded face as she registered his words. A blank expression adorned her face immediately after trying not to seem so surprised.

      “Well, not anymore.” She let her tongue trace her bottom lip before biting the flesh. “Ok, so tell me what you actually want us to do.” Uneasiness settled inside Jisung as he watched her bored face.

      “Well, I mean what I said. We should date. Or fake dating if you will. That way I can make Mina jealous and push her to run into my arms. I bet she can’t stand seeing me with you for too long.” He looked into her eyes hopefully thinking that maybe he convinced her but his hope was quickly shattered when she opened her mouth.

      “What are you? Five? I don’t want to get back at her and I have absolutely no reason to help you in your sick plan. I’m out of here!” Once again she picked up her bag to leave only for Jisung to grab her wrist and stop her, again.

      “Please Y/N! I’m desperate. I’ve been trying to date her for a year and a half already.” That was pathetic. She had absolutely no reason to help him. None at all. But something pushed her to stay and accept his offer. Maybe she could take advantage of the situation.

      Turning her head towards her she tried to keep a straight face as best as she could. “What do I get out of it?”

      Jisung’s face brightened instantly at her question and he held her hand with both of his. “Anything you want. If it’s possible I’ll do it.” His eyes were pouring into hers and a stupid sparkle was present in them.

      “I guess you were going to do that anyway but I want you to present me to your friends.” The same bored expression that she had on for almost the entirety of their conversation was adorning her face. Jisung was amazed at the lack of emotions she managed to show but she was an actress. Maybe she’s just good at her job.

      “Why? Do you have a crush on any of them?” A smirk was enveloping his facial features and he had a teasing tone. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment.

      “No. Some of them seem like really interesting people but their only defect was hanging out with you. Now that I have to hang out with you too I might as well start talking to them.” She shook his hands off hers before putting it in her front pocket. “Now I have to go to class cause my free period is almost over. See you later, babe!” She winked at him before turning around and making her way to her next class.

      The next day she met with Jisung in front of the cafeteria so they could walk in together and “announce” their relationship. Somehow he got hold of her number and they texted the night prior about the terms of their little deal. She felt like laughing when she saw how serious he was about it. If he really did end up dating Mina she’ll be convinced that both of them are idiots.

      His arm was over her shoulders as they walked through the tables. Multiple people were staring at them but she decided to ignore them. Upon reaching the table she placed her tray down and took a seat. The people at the table were looking confused at one another and some were throwing Jisung questioning looks.

      “Everyone, meet my girlfriend.” He spoke gesturing with a hand towards her. She smiled at them and waved her hand, muttering a soft ‘Hi!’.

      One of them, who she recognised to be Lee Minho, a Modern Dance major cleared his throat. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.” He had an awkward smile on. “What are you majoring in?”

      “Yeah, I don’t recall seeing you around campus.” Seo Changbin, a Music Production major added.

      “Oh, I…” She started talking but a puff coming from her left stopped her.

      “Seriously dude? You share a class. She’s L/N Y/N from your Theory and Improvisation class.” The voice belonged to Hwang Hyunjin and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach at the realisation that he knows her. Everyone around the table was throwing him weird looks.

      “You are right but how do you know that? I’m pretty sure you don’t take that class.” There was a trace of embarrassment in her voice.

      “I don’t but sometimes when I wait for those guys outside of the classroom I see you walking out.” He said that with nonchalance taking a bite from his food.

      “And how do you know her? She’s not a Music Production major otherwise we would have known. And she’s not a Dance major either otherwise Minho and Felix would have known about her as well.”Changbin’s tone was almost provoking as if Hyunjin had done something bad and he was about to reveal it.

      “She’s a Theatre and Film major. Last year when we went to all those theatre spectacles to support Jeongin I was actually paying attention to the plays. She had either the main role or the lead. I remember her being really good.” She felt her cheeks heat at his comment.

      “Thank you!” She threw him a smile. However, she got ignored as Lee Felix started talking.

      “Do you know her Jeongin?” She somehow felt offended by his question. Maybe that wasn’t his intention but he should have used a different tone.

      “Of course I do. We share almost all of our classes and last year we worked on multiple plays together.” Annoyance was present in his voice caused by his friends' ignorance.

      She knew Jeongin from the first day. He was the first to speak to her although they didn’t exactly become friends. They kept on working on plays together throughout the entirety of the first year of college but they kept everything mostly professional since they both had their own group of friends and she kind of disliked most of his friends.

      “Then how come you never talk about her?” Now, wasn’t Changbin an annoying one? She rolled her eyes discreetly at his question.

      “Because we are not the best of friends. Why don’t you talk about Kim Gina from your degree?” The youngest question was a good one. They were acquaintances and barely knew something about each other. What was he supposed to talk about?

      “Gina is not hot. What am I supposed to talk about?” The older male said calmly with a shrug of his shoulders.

      The water she was just drinking got stuck in her throat and she started coughing violently. Jisung started hitting her back repeatedly trying to help her swallow. When she finally calmed down she looked at him annoyed.

      “Who she is, is not important. What’s important is that she is my girlfriend” he gave Changbin a side look ”and you have to accept that. Stop talking about her like she is not sitting right in front of you.” A few of them raised their hands in defeat while some of them averted their eyes. Minho and Changbin rolled their eyes.

      She felt her blood pressure spike up at their action. She remembered why she never wanted to talk to any of them. Arrogant pricks.

      “Ok, Mister protective boyfriend. Just tell us when you break up.” Minho took a bite of his food done with the younger man’s antics. Everyone knew that he was in love with Mina. The moment she shows some interest in him he would probably leave this one in a heartbeat.

      Y/N sucked in a breath discreetly. He really got her worked up and she hated it. She put an arm around Jisungs shoulders and yanked him towards her, his face close to her chest. With her other hand, she grabbed the sides of his face making him look up at her and forcefully pursing his lips. 

      “Break up? Do you wanna break up with me, babe?” Y/N’s voice was mocking as if she was talking with a child. Jisung swallowed hard before shaking his head. She smiled at his response and used the hand from around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. “That’s what I thought.” She placed a short kiss on his lips before releasing him and turning back to her food.

      Everyone at the table was looking at both of them shocked, especially Minho and Changbin. She wanted to let a proud smile escape her but she controlled herself.

      For the rest of the lunch, she decided not to engage in any more discussions with Jisung’s friends. She continued eating her food and listened to them talking about things that didn’t involve her, occasionally responding to Hayoon’s texts.

      She was the first one to get up, impatient to go to her next class and not have to see them. “Bye guys. It was lovely meeting you!” She smiled at them, a smile half true because she did like some of them. “Bye babe. See you later!” She grabbed the sides of his face again placing another kiss on his lips before taking her empty tray and leaving them alone.

      The men all watched her as she made her way out of the cafeteria. When she closed the door behind her they all burst into laughter. Jisung was biting the inside of his cheek irked by their action. When the laughter stopped, Seungmin that was sitting next to him put his hand on his shoulder.

      “I absolutely adore your girlfriend. She knows how to keep her ‘babe’ in check I see.” Seungmin tried cupping his face as Y/N did but Jisung slapped his hand away.

      “Are you her good boy, Jisungie? Does she give you rewards if you listen to her?” Minho cooed at him and Jisung held back an insult.

      “Shut the fuck up. It’s not like that. She surprised me as well. Who the fuck knew she was going to do that?” When he proposed the whole fake dating thing to her he thought it would be easier. Looking at it now he can’t understand why he thought that. He saw the way her fights with Mina unfold and he knew she was an actress which meant that she was probably either crazy confident or really good at faking it. For some reason, he thought she would be easier to tease and control but it would be a lie if he said it didn’t intrigue him. He liked a challenge and if the prize was Mina he would try his best.

      “And you man” Chan spoke for the first time “what the fuck was that? Do you know her entire biography?” He was looking at Hyunjin who rolled his eyes.

      “I told you I paid attention to last year’s plays. On top of that, she’s hot. I remember that after one spectacle I and the guys from my dance group at the time talked about her for like a month. She was so..” The man let out a groan and threw his head back trying to explain what he meant.

      “Sure, tell me more. Did you masturbate to the thought of my girlfriend? Perhaps got any wet dreams about her?” Jisung commented, raising an eyebrow.

      Hyunjin winked at him as a smirk made its way on his face. Some of the guys simultaneously let out disgusted sounds at his gesture.

      “But how did this whole thing happen? I can’t remember a moment when you talked about her or when you were together.” Felix’s deep voice rang making everyone pay attention to him.

      Changbin suddenly let a gasp out and dramatically covered his mouth. “Yesterday our little Jisungie sat next to her in Theory and Improvisation and when the class ended he ran after her. I think he might have had a secret crush!” The older man teased.

      “Yeah, but she looked really annoyed with him. Hence why she sprinted out of the class. Why would she accept to date him if she looked like she’d rather listen to Mr Jung talk about the first piano ever invented.” Chan intervened making Jisung shrug his shoulders.

      “She was annoyed with me but what can I say? I’m so charming she couldn’t refuse me.” He leaned back in his chair putting his arms over the back of the chair. 

      “I think she did it out of pity. When she realized you’ve been trying to get Mina for a year and a half now she probably felt so bad for you she decided to sacrifice herself so you look less like a loser.” Hyunjin said his tone way to serious to be a joke.

      Jisung threw the man a deadly stare. “At least I didn’t masturbate to the thought of her like a fucking virgin.” He spat in the other man’s face.

      “Touche.”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #han #han jisung #han smut #han jisung smut #han angst #han jisung angst #han fluff #han jisung fluff #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst

[pastelwitchling]

A little follow-up to the 3x06 malex sneak peek.

               Michael’s fingers should’ve gone numb from the cold hours ago, but he supposed that being an alien protected him from the elements, even as he stood alongside a radio tower, working on wires and satellite transmissions that would’ve been a lot easier with the help of a trained Air Force cyber-intelligence specialist for the better part of five hours.

               Michael’s jaw was clenched for more than the chill, his fingers cutting and typing and scribbling across a paper for more than the desire to be done as quickly as possible. Caught up here in the silence, nothing but the sound of howling wind and dead grass swaying to keep him company, Michael couldn’t stop replaying Alex’s words in his head.

               I just don’t want you anywhere near whatever it is I decide to do.

               After everything that had happened, everything Alex had told him, threatening to destroy the world if a hair on his head was hurt, Alex didn’t want him around now. Alex didn’t want him near him. Michael was supposed to be focused on finding Kyle, on waiting for the lab reports from Liz about the blood on that shovel and who it belonged to, but he was pretty sure he was losing his mind instead.

               When Alex had driven up, Michael had been unable to help but smile, even at how pale Alex had been. Because at least Alex was here. He always came when Michael called, and Michael was just starting to allow himself to be giddy about it. Then all hell had broken loose, and Alex had seemed indifferent to his best friend missing.

               Even Michael, who had never wanted Alex to forgive Kyle for their high school days, had felt betrayed. Betrayed even worse when Alex had refused him. Michael had asked specially, had kept Alex from leaving, and Alex had still gone. He couldn’t help but agonize over it.

               When Michael’s phone rang with Liz’s name, Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. He picked up, and held the phone to his ear, his eyes closed.

               “Ortecho,” he said in lieu of a greeting, “you got a name for me?”

               “Michael,” she said, and Michael’s eyes opened at the barely-contained distress in her voice. “Did Alex show up? Please tell me he’s there with you.”

               Michael frowned. “No,” he swallowed, “no, he left. Why, what’s going on?”

               “The shovel’s gone,” Liz said, frantic now.

Michael straightened. “What?”

“So’s the blood sample! Michael, that was the strongest lead we had! What’re we going to do now?” He heard her mutter something in Spanish, too quickly and quietly to be coherent. “Do you have any idea where Alex is?”

“Not a clue,” Michael confessed, raking an angry hand through his curls. “Was the house broken into? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine!” she said impatiently. “No one broke in, whoever did this knew what they were doing!” She huffed shakily. “We have to find Kyle, we have to. Who could’ve taken it? Who else knew?”

“No one,” Michael pressed a fist to his forehead, thinking. “No one, just Max, you, me, and . . . and . . .”

“Where’s the shovel now?”

“Liz took it.”

Michael froze. His hand with the phone fell limp to his side and an incredulous, humorless laugh escaped his lips. There’s no way, he thought numbly. No way . . .

He muttered, “Son of a bitch.”

 Alex had barely stepped out of his car at a time far past midnight when Michael was there, shutting the door with his mind. Alex whipped around, startled, to find the cowboy there, glaring.

His lips were already curled around the question, about to ask what was going on, what had gotten into Michael, but Michael wasn’t about to humor his act. Not when it felt like his heart was breaking.

“Where’s the shovel, Alex?” he demanded. “What’d you do with the blood sample?”

Alex’s brows furrowed for a second before realization dawned, and his shoulders slumped. “It’s gone,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Then panic hit, “Is Liz okay?”

“You know damn well she’s not,” he growled, stepping into Alex’s space. For a horrifying second, Michael thought he might blast Alex back into the door of his house and demand answers. It had nothing to do with the shovel itself, but with the very idea that Alex – his Alex – had gone behind his back and hurt him like this. He’d never felt so betrayed, every part of him shattering.

“She’s scared out of her mind,” he said. “She wants to find Kyle, you know she does, and you took our only lead, so while I’m asking nicely –”

“While you’re asking nicely?”

“—where is the damn shovel?”

Alex searched Michael’s face, confused. Then he scoffed, the sound colored in disbelief. His next words were almost in a whisper. “You really think I took it.”

Doubt crept in, but Michael let his anger push it aside. “Don’t play stupid.”

Alex shrugged. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

“Where is it?”

Alex shook his head. He looked resigned. “I don’t know.” He turned to leave, but Michael grabbed his arm and turned him back around.

“Tell me, Alex,” he said, “before this gets worse.”

“Can it?” Alex asked, and Michael faltered when he saw Alex’s eyes were glassy. “Get worse?”

Michael squeezed Alex’s arm once, not knowing for a moment what to say, then he let go. “You’re the only other person who knew about the blood sample.”

He hummed. “Oh, and – uh – the kidnapper. Pretty big lead there, but I’m glad you came to me first.”

Michael’s face fell, and he shook his head. Without thinking, he blurted, “You’re – you’re lying.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

Alex looked like Michael had stabbed him in the heart. He looked away, swallowed, then turned back to Michael. “Even if I had taken it,” he said, “you really don’t trust me? You don’t trust it’d be for a good reason?” He huffed a miserable chuckle. Michael saw his hands curled to fists before he put them in his jacket pockets. “It’ll never be enough, will it? No matter what I do, no matter how much I love you, I’ll always be Jesse Manes’ son in your eyes.”

Michael opened his mouth. He clung to the anger, but found it was no longer there, replaced with shame and guilt. Even if Alex had taken it, even if he’d wiped it clean, even if he’d refused to help him find Kyle . . . wasn’t it all for something? Wasn’t everything Alex did for something?

He pushed the thought away. “I-It’s different.”

“Yeah, it is,” Alex said and sniffled, moving backwards. “The difference is that I actually believed in you.”

And without another word, Alex turned and went into his house, shutting the door and keeping Michael out.

 Michael had no idea what he was doing here. He told himself it was to check that Maria was okay, since Isobel had told him that she’d woken up, but when he saw her sitting up against her hospital bed pillows, he found there was no hint of surprise. He’d known she was going to be okay.

He sat down with a smile regardless. “Well, don’t you look good as new.”

“Shut up,” she groaned, and tilted her head over Michael’s shoulder at the door. She reached for the IV strip in the back of her hand. “Quick, before Is gets back, get me out of here.”

Michael only scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? We won’t even make it to the elevator.”

“What,” she said dryly, “are you scared of your own sister?”

“Completely.”

“Oh, come on, Guerin!” she whined, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed. “Can’t you just –” she put her hand on his arm and flinched back.

“Ow!” she hissed, waving her hand as if she’d been burned. “Oh, jeez, what’s with the aura?”

Michael’s smirk tightened. “I’m gonna tell you what I told Isobel. Stop reading my feelings.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, “but they’re like” – she gestured wildly around Guerin – “everywhere. What’s happened with Alex?”

He faltered. “How’d you know it was about Alex?”

“Please,” she sighed. “You only ever get this loud around Alex. What’d you do?”

Michael gaped. “I didn’t do anything! I . . .” he huffed, and stood, pacing the length of the hospital room for a moment.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Today, Guerin, before the nurse comes in with more morphine and I have to fight her off again.”

“That bloody shovel Max found where Kyle was taken? It’s gone. Someone took it.” He hesitated, rubbing his hands together. “The only people that knew were us . . . and Alex.”

“Wow,” she had a hand on her chest. “Okay? And?”

When Michael didn’t answer, her eyes widened.

“You didn’t.” She leaned forward. “Guerin, you didn’t.”

“He asked where it was,” Michael defended. “And he wouldn’t help me find Kyle –”

She huffed an incredulous laugh. “Oh my God. You were so upset that he wouldn’t hang out with you that you accused him of stealing key evidence?”

“I –”

“And what if he did?” she demanded. “So he took it, so what? He must have a dangerous idea who’s behind all of this, and didn’t want anyone else to get involved! I don’t know, but it’s important! I know it is, you know it is! You know what he would do for Kyle! What he would do for any of us!”

A thought seemed to occur to her and her eyes widened. “Oh, poor Alex. Poor Alex, oh my God, this must be killing him!” She tried to step out of bed and swayed. Michael was at her side in an instant, but she was pushing him away. “How could you?!” she demanded. “After everything he’s done for you, how could you think he doesn’t care?!”

“Okay,” Michael tried, seating her back down. “I’m sorry, please, just –”

“You hurt him!” Michael fell silent. “You hurt Alex!” She shook her head. “We’ve already hurt him. You were supposed to be the one that protected him.”

Michael clenched his jaw and his eyes burned. He thought of Alex’s face, his resignation when Michael had accused him of not caring. He hadn’t been surprised at all. Even after the years of defending Michael, he hadn’t been surprised that Michael hadn’t defended him.

I just don’t want you anywhere near whatever it is I decide to do.

Now he heard the words for what they were. Now he heard the truth.

“Well,” he said quietly, “I didn’t.”

 Alex opened his front door at almost four in the morning to a miserable Michael slumped against his doorway.

“This is why you didn’t want me anywhere near whatever you decided to do, isn’t it?”

Alex leaned against his door and sighed. The corner of his lips tugged up for a split second. “I’ll put some coffee on.”

They sat there in silence for a while under the warm yellow light of the lamps, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Michael studied Alex, the way his shirt ran tight over his muscles, his flat stomach, his toned chest, his strong arms and pursed lips and long fingers. Then he noticed the smaller things; the dark circles around Alex’s eyes, the scratches on his fingers and faint bruises on his jaw, the hollow of his cheeks. He was tired. Exhausted. Michael had been so happy to see Alex back, to have him close, that he hadn’t even noticed.

“I hated that you didn’t want to work with me,” he said, and Alex looked up, meeting his gaze. “I hated that I had to convince you. I guess I always knew that you would do anything I wanted, and . . . I wanted . . . I want to do this with you. Because I don’t know how to be good for everyone without you.”

Michael exhaled shakily. “I trust you, Alex. You’re the only one in the world that I trust. Whatever you decide, I know it’s for a good reason. I just hate – I hate . . . I hate not being part of it. I hate that you’re doing it alone.”

Slowly, Alex leaned back against the couch, his finger tapping the mug in his hands.

“I left the Air Force.”

Michael almost dropped his cup. “W-What?”

“Full honors,” he said, smiling for the briefest second before something weary took its place. “What I’m doing now . . . I think I know how to find Kyle.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “You knew that he was missing.”

“Hours before you called. Even got his . . . what’d you call it? Suicide bat signal?”

“And the tower? You knew about that, too?”

Alex pursed his lips and nodded. “Let’s just say I’m not working with people that like to share information.”

Michael realized he’d known that. He’d always known, if he was being honest with himself. He’d known Alex had had his own lead, that something was different about him this time. It wasn’t like when he’d come back from war. Back then, it was like Alex had lost something and didn’t know what to do. Now he’d found it and had a plan to get it back.

“That’s why you didn’t want me working around it.”

Alex smiled sadly. “Would you believe that it’s for you? That everything I have and am is for you?”

Michael swallowed thickly. He didn’t need to say the words. Alex knew he believed it. “And you? When do you get a turn?”

Alex shrugged a tired shoulder and whispered, “I don’t know how to be good for everyone without you.”

Michael didn’t know what to say to that. His eyes burned and he wanted more than anything to take Alex in his arms and kiss his forehead and help him sleep. But they had work to do.

Alex sniffled and sat up, stretching an arm over his head. “You should go,” he said, his eyes on a hallway engulfed in shadows. “Keep looking for Kyle on your end.”

As he said the words, Michael heard the silent message beneath; And I’ll find him on mine.

Michael nodded him to himself, then stood. He stared at Alex, clenching his fists, and said, “You better enjoy these last moments going solo, Private. Because after we get Valenti back, whatever it takes” – he came in close until his lips brushed the shell of Alex’s ear – “I’m not letting anything come between us again.”

Without another word, Michael walked out, and as he left, he could’ve sworn he heard Alex’s resolute, “Neither am I.”

For the record, I think the fandom is being ridiculously dramatic, that teaser was wonderful and filled with delicious tension, so please don’t rant to me about it because I absolutely LOVED it and this little fic was just for fun.

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