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#but long story short one of my best friends is getting married on Saturday and she told me that i was gonna be a bridesmaid

underthewingsofthblackeagle · 1 year

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Foto: Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Dom und Parlamentsplatz (by tap5a) “We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved… unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange

Chapter 16:�� Visit to the Wartburg (1)

The Saturday and Sunday following Matthieu von Klarenberg's visit were spent largely apart by "the men" and Claire.

Claire enjoyed sleeping in late. On Saturday she wrote some letters, and kept an extensive diary, reflecting in particular on Matthieu von Klarenberg's visit and her conversation with him. The conversation with Matthieu lay heavily on her soul. His person and his character had impressed Claire very much. She felt so bad at the thought of playing such a charade on this sincere man, this good friend of Jamie. After he had left that evening, she and Jamie had cleaned up a bit. Then, she had taken off his mother's jewelry and given it back to Fraser. In the process, she had almost started to cry. Only with difficulty had she managed to hold back the outburst of all the emotions that were fighting with each other in her soul. But she was too tired, and after the days of preparation, too exhausted. She simply had no strength left for a discussion on this whole subject. Besides, she knew how Fraser would react. He would reassure her again that she should let all this be his worry. He would take care of everything and Matthieu would understand him. Claire jotted down all these thoughts in her journal. But even that brought her no real relief. She sighed, and then suddenly all the tears she had so desperately held back until now broke trough like a stream. She closed the book and put it in a drawer of her desk. Then she reached for a paper handkerchief to dry her tears. But at that moment she had to think of Matthieu again and that triggered another stream of tears. The outburst of suppressed emotion made Claire angry. She felt more and more torn. It seemed to her as if she was trapped in a situation she didn't feel comfortable with and couldn't really do anything about. Eventually, her tears dried up. Claire got up to make herself some tea. Standing in front of the open hanging cabinet where she kept her teas, she decided on a sleep and nerve tea with valerian and other calming herbs. She needed rest and it seemed best to sleep for a few more hours.

Humboldt Forum in the New City Palace Berlin * Picture by wal_172619 auf Pixabay

Jamie and Fergus, who knew nothing of Claire's inner struggle, visited an exhibit at Berlin's Humboldt Forum on Saturday morning, had lunch in the city, and went to a cinema to watch a movie in the afternoon.

On Sunday, Claire decided she really needed a little change of scenery. She needed to experience something nice to get away from her negative thoughts. A little trip to the city of Potsdam seemed like the right solution. Claire had brunch at her favorite café and was driven back home by Mr. Curtius in the early afternoon, where she took time to read. Jamie and Fergus had also slept in late on Sunday, then ordered pizzas and headed out for a long hike that took them to Lake Sacrow and the King's Forest. On Sunday evening, all three had dinner together again and told each other what they had experienced. Claire and Jamie put Fergus to bed together and then, over a glass of whiskey, discussed the following week's chores and appointments.

Over the next two weeks, the Fraser household returned to everyday normalcy. Jamie went to work in Berlin and Claire took care of Fergus, who went back to school. They spent weekends largely apart so Claire could relax and Jamie could spend more time with Fergus.

Window picture: Luther nails his 91 theses on the door of the city church of Wittenberg * Picture by falco on Pixabay

On October 24, Jamie had already arrived home around lunch. Shortly thereafter, Fergus and Claire arrived as well. Fergus could not contain his joy at finally having two days off school again. When he saw his father sitting in the living room by the fireplace, he immediately rushed toward Jamie.

"Papa! Papa! You're home already!"

Jamie stood up, spread his arms, and took Fergus in his arms. After a brief greeting, he sat back down in his chair and let Fergus sit on his lap.

"Yes, there wasn't much left to do for the week, so I thought I'd better go home and do something with you after all."

Claire watched the interaction between father and son from the dining room and couldn't help but smile. Shortly thereafter, she called "the men" to lunch.

During lunch, Fergus chatted blithely, talking about how they had talked at length in school that day about Reformation Day on October 31 and about the Person of Martin Luther. Jamie listened to him intently, but when Fergus forgot to eat over talking, he did have to intervene:

"Fergus, I think it's very exciting to hear what you're saying about the Reformation Day, but could we please talk about it after lunch? Your schnitzel is getting quite cold."

Claire could only stifle a grin with difficulty. Fergus rolled his eyes slightly and sighed audibly. But then he did prick his fork into the meat his father had cut off for him and began to eat.

As Mrs Curtius cleared away the dishes from the main course, Jamie suddenly said:

"Maybe we can do something together that Reformation Day weekend?"

"Really, Papa? What?"

Fergus could hardly contain his enthusiasm:

"We could go to Wartburg Castle, after all! Oh please, Papa! It's not that far away! And Claire has to come too!"

Jamie took a deep breath and Claire again suppressed a big grin.

Before anyone could say anything, Mrs Curtius appeared with the dessert.

"We'll all eat our chocolate pudding in peace now," Jamie said, "and then we'll sit down in the living room and discuss this quietly over a cup of coffee and a glas of juice for you. All right?"

Fergus sighed again.

"So, if you don't want chocolate pudding, Fergus ..." said Jamie emphatically calmly, but before he could finish his sentence the boy snatched the small bowl of dessert and began to eat his pudding.

Fifteen minutes later they were all sitting in the living room. Mrs Curtius had cleared the dining table and Claire had put the coffee on the small table in the living room for Jamie and herself, and shortly after Mrs Curtius came in with a glass of lemonade for Fergus, who had sat down on the sofa next to Claire and immediately snuggled up to her.

"Now Fergus," Jamie began, "if you really want to go to the Wartburg, we can do that ..."

"Yes, but Claire has to come with us!"

"What Claire has to do or not, Fergus, we'll have to leave that up to her," Jamie objected, looking at the boy seriously.

"Well, if you ask me," Claire spoke up now, "I'd like to do this with you. I've never been to Wartburg Castle, and other than the little I learned in school about Luther and the Reformation ..."

"Oh, great! Yes, Clair ..."

Before Fergus could begin a new lecture on what he had learned in school, Jamie said:

"Good, so it's agreed that we'll visit Wartburg Castle. But here's what I suggest: We don't go there on October 31. Because I'm very sure that on Reformation Day, the place will be crawling with tourists. I suggest that Claire has that day off and we do something else. Then on November 1, we go to Thuringia very early in the morning. And I mean early. There we visit the castle, have lunch and then look around the area. We will then spend the night in a hotel and on Sunday morning we will take a look at the important places of the city of Eisenach. This is always a part of a visit to the Wartburg. We'll have lunch in Eisenach and maybe coffee there, and we'll be back here for dinner. I'll take Monday off then so Claire can have her second day off. What do you think of that?"

Claire and Fergus looked at each other and then nodded.

"Good," Jamie said, "then it's settled!"

They sat together for a while longer, and then Fergus was drawn to his train. Since the boy had no homework, there was nothing left for Claire to do either. She said goodbye until coffee time and went to her apartment.

Jamie again took a seat next to the fireplace, grabbed a newspaper and began to read. Every now and then he glanced over at Fergus, who was playing with his train set in the conservatory and muttering to himself. Clearly, he was processing his anticipation of the trip to Wartburg Castle in his play.

The following weekend Claire and “the men” again spent largely apart. On Saturday, Claire stayed home, reading, talking on the phone with several friends and former colleagues, writing letters and journaling again. Jamie and Fergus had slept in late, and then had a hearty breakfast. After lunch, they had gone to a soccer game in Berlin. A business partner who had his own box at the soccer stadium had invited Fraser and his son. The men eagerly watched Hertha BSC's game against Schalke 04, which Hertha BSC won 1-0. Afterwards, Jamie and Fergus drove into town and had dinner at an Italian restaurant. When they returned to Potsdam two hours later, Fergus had fallen asleep in the back seat of the car. Jamie carried him into the house, where he carefully removed his clothes and put on his pyjamas. He then put his son to bed, where the boy immediately fell back asleep. Fraser remained sitting by Fergus' bedside for a few more minutes, then carefully slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door.

As Jamie stood in the hallway, he pondered what to do with the rest of the evening. He was tempted to call Claire, but then let it go. No, Claire needed to be left alone for once, too. He went into the fireplace room and drank another whiskey while browsing through a book.

Whisky at the fireplace * Picture by Ralf on Pixabay

The two weeks until the planned weekend away passed quickly and before they knew it, Reformation Day, October 31, had arrived. Claire had the day off and didn't show up again until dinner. Afterwards, they put Fergus to bed together. Claire had made him some fennel tea, hoping he would sleep quickly and well. Still, there was no mistaking the child's eagerness for the trip.

On the morning of November 1, 2025, they left early, very early. The alarm clock read 4:00 a.m. as it roused Claire from sleep. Since she had prepared everything the day before, she was able to get dressed right away and was standing at Jamie's door just a few minutes later with her packed travel bag and backpack. The apartment door was open and as she set her travel bag down, she heard Jamie call out:

"Claire? Come on in. I'm dressing Fergus right now."

As Clair stepped into the doorway of Fergus' room, she saw a Fergus who looked more like a ghost than the mercurial boy she knew. He moved somnambulistically in Jamie's direction, lifting first this arm, then the other. Slipped on his undershirt and sweater. Claire wondered what miracles Jamie had performed to get the boy's pants, stockings, and shoes on. When Fergus was fully dressed, Claire grabbed his hand and gently led him out into the hallway. Jamie looked around the room again, then closed the door. Mrs Curtius would come in the morning to air out and make the beds. When Jamie got to the apartment door, he reached for his own travel bag and the travel bag he had packed for Fergus. Then they all rode the elevator together down the hall. There, Clair put a jacket and cap on the sleepwalking Fergus, while Jamie retrieved a bag of rations and several thermoses that Mrs Curtius had prepared from the kitchen. After Jamie and Clair had also put on their jackets, the small group rode the elevator together to the garage. Once there, Jamie stowed the travel bags in the trunk of the BMW. Claire and Fergus climbed into the back seat of the car, where Claire rested the boy's head on her lap. Jamie handed her a wool blanket he had taken from the trunk and Claire spread it over the now-sleeping child. When Jamie had stowed the bag of food in the passenger seat, he closed the car doors and sat down. Using the remote control, he opened the garage door and drove out into the yard. Once again, he pressed the remote control and the door closed behind them. Then he drove off.

It wasn't long before they had left Potsdam behind them. They drove past Michendorf, then Beelitz and Mühlenfließ. Shortly after Rabenstein, they left the territory of Brandenburg and were now in Saxony-Anhalt.

resting area * Picture by Frank on Pixabay

They drove past Coswig and Dessau, the old royal seat. Later they passed Zörbig and at Landsberg, they crossed the border into Saxony. They drove past Leipzig and were then already back on Saxony-Anhalt territory. After passing Weißenfels, they stopped. They had now covered almost two-thirds of their way. It was 6:15 a.m. and Jamie thought it was time for a break. He stopped at a rest area. No cars were parked there except for them. Slowly, he eased the car to a seating area of wooden benches and a wooden table.

"Wonderful," Fraser said, "we can have a cup of coffee and something to eat here at our leisure."

Fergus, who had woken up in the meantime, looked around sleepily:

"Where are we?"

"At a rest area," Claire replied.

She helped Fergus get out of the car, then took him in her arms and sat him on one of the wooden benches. Jamie came to wrap the blanket around him. Then he retrieved the bag of rations and thermoses. Claire unpacked cups and sandwiches and only moments later they were sitting around the table, drinking fruit tea (Fergus) and coffee (Jamie and Clair) and enjoying sandwiches topped with salami or cheese.

"Anyone seeing us sitting here like this," Clair thought, "might think we were a young family on a weekend getaway."

But she did not allow herself to spin that thought any further.

Beside her, Fergus woke up more and more, letting his father explain to him where they were, how long they had to go, and which states they had already crossed. After twenty minutes, they finished their cups and packed up. After everyone had taken a little "pee break," they were back in the car after half an hour and headed toward their destination again. Shortly after Osterfeld, they crossed the border into Thuringia. Then they drove past Jena and Weimar. Fergus had dozed off again at this point. Jamie and Claire conversed in whispers. Jamie was particularly taken with Weimar, and he suggested to Clair that they take another weekend trip with Fergus to the historic city the following year. Claire liked this idea very much and in her mind, a first scenario was created for how to prepare Fergus for such a visit. Then they passed Erfurt and Gotha and finally reached Eisenach. Even from a distance, they could see the Wartburg Castle towering over the city. Claire gently woke Fergus, then pointed to the castle and said:

"Look Fergus, we're almost there."

Wartburg by night * Pictur by L. Gerst on Pixabay

Instantly, the boy was filled with new energy.

Jamie steered the car to the foot of the mountain on which Wartburg Castle towered. There, at the beginning of the 20th century, a hotel had been built for visitors to the historic site. The ensemble, renamed "Romantikhotel Wartburg" in the meantime, had been renovated several times and was now a 5-star hotel. Immediately after deciding to visit the Wartburg on November 1, Jamie had booked a room here for Clair and a double room for himself and Fergus. When they arrived shortly after 8:00 a.m., a hotel employee was already standing at the entrance to greet the guests from Potsdam. A porter unloaded the travel bags from the car and then drove it to the underground garage. While the hotel employee who had greeted the guests showed them to their rooms, another brought their luggage shortly after.

"I suggest we get some more rest," Jamie said, continuing, "the castle opens at 9:00. That's when you can tour the outer courtyards. There are guided tours starting at 9:30. So we still have some time. Are you still hungry? There are still rolls with egg and also coffee or tea."

Claire and Fergus answered in the affirmative, and so all three sat down around a table in Jamie and Fergus' room, ate the rolls that Mrs Curtius had lovingly prepared, and drank their coffee or tea. Then Fergus stretched out on his bed and shortly after Claire went to her room to get some rest as well. They had decided to leave at 9:15 a.m.

#Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #We only do this for Fergus #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #Fergus Fraser #Modern AU #The Frasers in Prussia #berlin #eisenach #Wartburg #Refirmation Day

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popkornrea · 10 months

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So I have decided you have to earn my back story. It’s long and complicated and everything butterflies affect each other. There are also chapters in my life where things shift and I change.

So, I will give you what is relevant to me currently. From there I will pick up.

Starting from high school when I moved to Seattle.

It was June 2015. I had just turned 16, my mom had gotten kidney failure in both of her kidneys due to the wrong medication mixture from her doctor (no, we never sued him, though she should have and we missed the deadline to sue him by, so unfortunately the bastard got away.) Worst of all, my mom decided to move to Washington with my aunt, and grandparents.

I didn’t want to move, I had great friends, and I was scared of being bullied again.

But that wasn’t what happened. I didn’t really make many friends until towards the end of the school year.

It was sometime at the beginning of the second semester. I made friends with this girl named Dezzi in gym class one day and after that she invited me to sit with her and her friends at lunch. So I did.

Avi was a part of her friend group. (Memories are still coming back to me slowly, day by day. But it is also hard to remember if they are memories or something I made up in my head. {I do it a lot, I still need to see a therapist}) I don’t really remember why we started talking, all I remember is that one day after Dezzi wasn’t at school, he and I sat together and started talking after that. From then on him and I would sit together and talk. My birthday (in the spring) came around and he bought me Spider- Man 2099. I loved Spider-man at the time. I feel as though I still do, but that hero comes with streaks of pain that peirce right down to the soul.

Anyway, we made ourselves official right before the first day of summer. Our first date was Civil War. (I used to keep all of the movie tickets we would go and see. We saw over 20 movies while we were together.) From then on we were inseparable. He was my first banana ice cream sundae. He said “I love you” first. He understood I had trauma and was willing to be patient with me. We were in love and it wasn’t just puppy love either. We were attracted to each other's natural scent. (Long-story-short he was allergic to a lot of fragrances so he never used anything with scent in it, so it really was his natural scent I can still smell.) It was the best 1.6 years of my life. He was the sweetest thing in the world.

But then one day he told me he was going on a 2 week vacation with his family. He had been tense up until that point but not enough to make me notice too much. But after he got back from the trip he was even more tense. Everything was fine until school started. We got into more arguments, he was getting in trouble more. Then one day he told me he didn’t want to talk to me until wednesday. He wanted to think over our relationship. I don’t remember what led up to that point. I don’t remember if I had said something stupid, or mean. I’m sure I had to have though. When wednesday came around he changed everything in messenger. ( We had nicknames set for each other as well as a different theme.) Everything was put right back like we had never been together at all.

I think that is the hardest part about living with so much technology. It is so easy to know everything and nothing all at once about a person. That is also the problem. Not everyone is truthful about what they show you.

He told me he would pick me up that Saturday at a specific time. When he picked me up he was silent for a few minutes. Then he told me he couldn’t do our relationship anymore. And just like that, the love of my life, the man I thought I was going to marry, is out of my grasp. All I could say was “okay”. I was quiet and the only thing that was going through my mind was “it’s going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay…”

We tried to be friends after that but it didn’t last long. One of his friends reached out to me and told me that our relationship ending changed him.

Later the next year, after I graduated high school, sometime around June I ran into Avi’s Dad. He told me that they were moving to Kentucky. ( I will say I don’t remember if he told me when and if so I don’t remember when.)

The march before that, I got with a guy and we ended up married later that Fall in October. My ex husband, Jon and I were together for 4 years, but were married for only 3.5. I divorced him in May, 2022.

From April 2018- September 2021, I worked at a retail company. By the time I left I was an assistant manager. I was only unemployed for 2 weeks. I applied to a big company and I am still here as of right now.

I know getting married right out of high school was stupid and I pretty much just bought myself 150 free “wtf” looks everytime I brought it up. In the end I left him for reasons I am not going to get into tonight.

In the spring of 2022 I moved in with Paul. I lived with him for a year and a month. I officially dated him for almost 6 months (I broke up with him the week before it was 6 months.) Towards the time of us renewing our lease, I was trying to leave and find a place of my own but it didn’t work out, and of course Paul promised me lies.

After lying to me, telling me I wasn’t the weight he found attractive ( I was 100lbs at the time), and calling me a loser and a million other terrible things, I left him. I broke the lease, packed in a day, and moved out in a day. I’m still dealing with Paul and his father calling and texting me. I have been living with Jess for almost 2 months now. I was on my own for a week. It was okay, but I think I would do better in a smaller place by myself. I got a new google nest mini the other day and I have been talking with Avi on and off the last week.

The last time I talked to him was 2 years ago. We talked for a month then he blocked me, kept me blocked until last March, unblocked me, screenshotted the chat (even though there was nothing to screenshot) and then never said anything to me. I never responded to him and I deleted my snapchat in January of 2023 due to my ex, Paul freaking out over 8 years old messages.

This time around: He responded to my message and friend request within 1 minute. Literally, I am not even joking. Then he talks to me like we never stopped talking. Then he’ll stop being so interactive in the messages. He told me he has a partner, but he also told me he doesn’t know what to do with his free time. There's a lot more going on I don’t have the time for tonight.

Maybe later I’ll post some memories later until the next update.

#blog #personal blog #drama

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simmer-emsie · 3 years

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Not So Berry Challenge 2

Couldn’t get enough of the original Not So Berry Legacy Challenge? Wishing you could play a challenge with all the new packs, careers, and aspirations? If you’ve been daydreaming about an updated Not So Berry Challenge (2020), look no further!

Welcome to the Not So Berry Legacy Challenge 2, a ten generation rags-to-riches legacy challenge with colour-themed heirs. Note: This challenge requires basically every pack except My First Pet Stuff and Journey to Batuu (...y’all know why).

Thank you to @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming for the inspiration (and the rules!).

Basic rules:

Each heir must represent the colour of the generation (like hair, makeup, clothing), but brightly-coloured skin isn’t necessary.

The colours of the spouses don’t matter as they aren’t part of the challenge. Unless otherwise stated you can do whatever you please with them.

Cheats can be used, but not excessively.

You may live wherever you please unless something is specified in the rules of a generation.

Every generation is supposed to complete both the career and aspiration of the heir unless explicitly stated otherwise.

Keep the lifespan on normal.

Generation One: Onyx

Long story short, your family kicked you out. Whatever. You couldn’t care less! You’ve always been the black sheep of the family, and now you’ve got to go out on your own just like you always planned. You work odd jobs to make ends meet, but you never seem to get ahead.

Traits: Slob, Evil, Freegan

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Odd jobs only

Rules:

Complete the Beach Life aspiration.

Start on an empty lot with 100 Simoleons. Hard mode: Start as a teen.

Marry the first adult Sim to rate you 5 stars for a job.

Max the fishing and fabrication skills.

Your only friend is your spouse.

Generation Two: Sapphire

Growing up, you had a hard life. Your parents were always struggling, and they rarely had time to raise you. You spent a lot of time eating snacks instead of meals and hanging out at the park. Honestly? You kind of resent them for it. You know you’ll never treat your own kids that way. In fact, you’d do anything for your kids… including indulging in a little five-finger discount at the neighbour’s house.

Traits: Family-Oriented, Kleptomaniac, Loves Outdoors

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Career: Babysitter (Teen), Business

Rules:

Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration and reach level 10 of the Business career.

Max the logic, mischief, and parenting skills.

Have a negative relationship with both your parents.

Every time you Woohoo, it must be “try for a baby”.

Add a new piercing or tattoo for every new child you have.

Generation Three: Morganite

You were raised in a hectic household. You shared a room with all your siblings, and never got an ounce of privacy. To get away from it all, you spent your days on the monkey bars and later on the rock-climbing wall. You get an apartment on your own as soon as you’re old enough in a faraway town, and learn quickly that you’re much more special than your upbringing would have you believe.

Traits: Adventurous, Proper, Self-Absorbed

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Career: Style Influencer

Rules:

Complete the Extreme Sports Enthusiast aspiration and reach level 10 of the Style Influencer career.

Max the fitness, rock climbing, and the skiing or snowboarding skills.

Move to Mt. Komorebi as a young adult.

Marry a Sim you meet on the slopes.

Have one child only (you may cheat for this).

Generation Four: Quartz

Your parent was a bit of a public figure, but you always shied away from the limelight. You like cats and romance novels, and all you really want to do is knit clothes for charity. You lead a book club and sometimes play the piano when the other book club members ask you to.

Traits: Cat-Lover, Creative, Bookworm

Aspiration: Lord or Lady of the Knits

Career: Politician (Charity Organizer branch)

Rules:

Complete the Lord or Lady of the Knits aspiration and reach level 10 of the Politician career in the Charity Organizer branch.

Max the knitting, charisma, and piano skills.

Adopt at least two cats from the shelter and one stray cat.

Lead a book club.

Have an on-again, off-again relationship with a book club member.

Never marry.

Generation Five: Citrine

You’ve always wanted to be the best at everything. You really, really want to impress your parent, but they don’t seem to have time for you between caring for all the cats and the book club. You get the best grades in school, participate in extracurriculars, and you even party the hardest at university. You never want to settle down, but you can’t stop love from sprouting when one day your academic rival winks instead of snarls. Also, you really, really hate cats.

Traits: Ambitious, Genius, Perfectionist

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Scout (Child/Teen), Engineer

Rules:

Complete the Academic aspiration and reach level 10 of the Engineer career.

Max the robotics, research and debate, dancing, and DJ mixing skills.

Go to university, live on campus, and get a degree (Computer Science or Physics).

Marry a Sim from the rival university.

As an elder, pursue a second degree.

Generation Six: Jade

As the child of an engineer, you’re familiar with mechanics and electricity and the inevitable dark plumes of smoke. As you get older, you realize you want to make up for the carbon footprint of your parent through living an entirely green life. As a vegetarian, you love thinking up new and creative recipes, and the cooking channel is the soundtrack of your life.

Traits: Vegetarian, Green Fiend, Recycle Disciple

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Career: Civil Designer

Rules:

Complete the Eco Innovator aspiration and reach level 10 of the Civil Designer career.

Max the cooking, gourmet cooking, and juice fizzing skills.

Have a “green” lot with extremely reduced bills.

Maintain an herb garden for your kitchen.

Host a community barbecue every Saturday afternoon.

Generation Seven: Amber

After growing up on collard greens and tofu, you can’t help but eat as much as you can of everything that you can. Your parent was entirely selfless, but all you ever wanted was to be spoiled. You make it your mission in life to be as rich as possible, and to become super famous through acting. Right before your death, you're overcome by altruism and give the family fortune to charity.

Traits: Self-Assured, Hates Children, Glutton

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Career: Actor

Rules:

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration and reach level 10 of the Acting career.

Max the acting and mixology skills.

Marry an actor more famous than you.

As an elder, master the wellness skill.

On your Sim’s final day of life, use the “money 100” cheat.

Generation Eight: Amazonite

Okay, so, your parent went off the deep end and now you have no money. Not to worry! You’ve always been interested in the outdoors and travelling, so you decide to become an archaeologist. That’ll bring in some money… right? You take on a job gardening too, just in case.

Traits: Goofball, Good, Erratic

Aspiration: Archaeology Scholar

Career: Gardener

Rules:

Complete the Archaeology Scholar aspiration and reach level 10 of the Gardening career.

Max the archaeology, gardening, and Selvadorian culture skills.

Collect all 9 relics.

Have twins a few days before you become an elder (you may cheat for this).

Generation Nine: Topaz

You’re a really important person in your career, which kind of sucks because you’re also secretly a magician! When you were very young, you tried to use magic to prevent your elderly parents from dying. Spoiler alert: It didn’t work, but you continued on your spellcasting journey. You use humour to deflect questions about unearthly happenings around you. Your faithful dog is your closest companion, but also much too smart for a regular dog… Hopefully no one at work catches on.

Traits: Clumsy, Loner, Cheerful

Aspiration: Spellcraft & Sorcery

Career: Salaryperson

Rules:

Complete the Spellcraft & Sorcery aspiration and reach level 10 of the Salaryperson career.

Max the comedy and pet training skills.

Have a familiar (preferably your dog, but it’s up to you!).

Break up with your partner when they realize you’re a magician. Then, marry them to make sure they keep the secret.

Generation Ten: Ruby

Your family has a long and lustrous history. You’ve been told your oldest ancestor had nothing but 100 Simoleons to their name. Well, you have no interest in letting your good name come to an end. You seek to maintain the bloodline forevermore with immortality (...and social media).

Traits: Snob, Art-Lover, Hot-Headed

Aspiration: Vampire Family

Career: Social Media (Internet Personality branch)

Rules:

Complete the Vampire Family aspiration and reach level 10 of the Social Media career in the Internet Personality branch.

Max the painting, pipe organ, media production, and vampire lore skills.

Become a master vampire.

Become a 5-star celebrity.

Turn your spouse into a vampire*.

*You may, if you wish, name the Ruby heir Carlisle. You may not, under any circumstances, name them Edward.

Congratulations! You’ve completed the Not So Berry Legacy Challenge 2! …Now what?

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writingfics-passingtime · 3 years

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Playing the Part

~8300 words of steamy Loki tickle fluff

PG13 for this one, kids. Lots of making out.

CW: some swearing, suggestive humour, mentions of murder/death, alcohol consumption

Every job has its ups and downs, and every employee their good days and not-so-good days. You’d hardly classify yourself as an employee because you didn’t get a paycheque, your entire occupation was a hazard unto itself, human-resources was punching it out on the sparring mat and your boss was either a 100-year-old super soldier or an eccentric billionaire, depending on the day and who was wearing what suit.

Wait… should I be getting paid for this?

Looking around your room that you paid no rent on, in a multi-billion dollar superhero compound, you decided that wasn’t a question you were ever going to ask. The question of the hour was which dress would best conceal your thigh-holstered gun.

Today, your job entailed one of those tasks that could be fun if you decided it would be, or hell if you had a bad attitude about it. You prided yourself on always being up for any mission, so that answered that question, though infiltrating some black-tie gala undercover was never as exciting as fighting alien forces.

You gave up feeling guilty about being a little excited when Earth faced threats long ago; no one had to know that impending planetary destruction was your favourite kind of mission to help out on.

Selecting a red strapless dress from the middle of your mission closet (which was differentiated because most of these dresses were bulletproof) you slipped it on over your underwear and thigh holster. A knock came at your door as you were reaching behind yourself to zip it up.

“Come in!”

“Agent, we- oh… Oh.” Loki’s featured turned from surprised to playfully smug in a matter of seconds.

“Can you get this zipper?” You winced at the stuck metal. He nodded and approached, you turned and held the fabric up. Before he even made it halfway to you he gave a brief wave of his hand and used his magic to unstick the zipper, bringing it to the top.

“Thanks,” you smiled, familiar with that particular kind of help from Loki. “Can you see my gun?” You did a little spin and he shook his head. “Great. You look nice," you commented, gesturing to his impeccable black suit.

“As do you.”

“Ready?”

”I suppose there are worse charades to play on a Saturday evening. Ones that don’t include fine wine and the prospect of a tussle with a Midgardian security man.”

You shot him a look as you two walked towards the garage together. “You said no Midgardian wine could be classed as fine.”

“Save for one region in Italy, I’ve discovered.” Loki shrugged, tightening the fastener on his cuff link.

You gave him a mock look of shock. “Are you telling me… you were wrong?“

“Smugness is not becoming, Agent,” Loki playfully warned.

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes. “Looks like I’m spending too much time with you.”

You bickered and bantered good-naturedly as you entered the garage, which was more like a hangar but only for cars. This mission would be you, Loki, Natasha, Sam and, strangely enough, Tony wanted to drive the van. He gave some excuse about wanting to test some new equipment and spend time with his team. Though you knew it was because Pepper wanted him to attend her aunt’s seventieth birthday, and Tony had a long-standing feud with that particular aunt ever since she went on a forty-five minute tirade about how much she hated Led Zeppelin. You weren’t sure if it was the sentiment behind it, or the fact that she could talk for forty-five minutes straight without the awareness to stop. Either way, Tony was on the job tonight.

“Black Widow is already onsite,“ Tony handed you three some photos as you entered and took your seats. “Your names are on the door, fake ones obviously, here they are.” Tony pulled up some information on the screens and then commanded the self-driving van to go with a few taps at a holographic control centre.

You went over the plan, the objective, who to avoid at all costs, where the gun was supposedly hidden. There was a gun used in a murder of a journalist - the employee of an old friend of Tony's, a young guy working on an exposé of a filthy-rich family dynasty in New York City. The journalist was sure the McDane family money came from arms dealing, but he was found dead just a few short months after he started investigating. The following week, Charles, the charming and likeable newly-married eldest son of the family, announced his run for mayor.

Whether Charlie McDane ordered the murder, or if he didn't even know it happened, Tony's source said this family kept trophies of their victories and the murder weapon would most definitely still be in the house.

On the face of it, it was an unusual assignment for the Avengers. If you didn't think that hard about it, you could have just sent Nat in alone. However, the McDane family was even more powerful than they loved to show on the surface, and this wouldn't be a simple theft. Hence, a small team was going in to avenge the fallen journalist.

Natasha had been planted on the inside, posing as an event manager for a soirée the family was hosting to celebrate Charlie’s birthday and, since he’d invited everyone in the political and social scene, it was the perfect chance to enter the mansion; there’s no way he’d know who each and every person was and should be.

As you walked down the road with your arm slotted through Loki's, you eyed the metal detectors at the front entrance. You gripped his arm and slid your hand into the pocket of your dress, but the pocket was hollow and only existed as easy way to grab your gun. Wordlessly, you passed it to Loki and he concealed it with his magic in the exact same way you planned to smuggle the murder weapon out later that evening.

Maybe it was Loki's elegance or your years of training that started when you were very young, but the way you two could instinctively weave around each other's thoughts, ideas and actions without so much as a glance was something special you didn't take for granted. You both had keen senses, but there was some kind of unexplainable energy that made them align perfectly.

You never let your mind wander on nights like these. On missions. Perhaps if you were less professional you'd take a moment to fantasise about what it would actually be like to go to a party with Loki. If the way he led you through the room with a gentle hand at your waist was more than a ploy to look like an adoring couple, or if he knew your favourite wine because he cared, instead of just having heard you order it a million times before.

He kept things light with jokes and little jabs, never once crossing a boundary when fake-flirting with you, but it wasn't lost on you that it was unusual to have this kind of working relationship that had all of the chemistry with none of the awkwardness. It was almost as if it was second nature now for him to pull you a little closer when you were in a nice dress, considering you'd only worn them in front of him on missions. And so he did pull you closer as you approached the bouncer to give your names.

You spied Nat at the front, leaning around a security guard's shoulder to point to something on his list. She always played her parts so well. She stole a glance at you and Loki through her fake glasses and that was it. No indication she knew you, no special treatment, no way she'd do anything to blow this. She walked up the outdoor staircase as you gave your aliased names to the guard and flashed fake drivers licenses that were pretty much real, considering the government had created them.

Loki declined the arrival champagne for the both of you, immediately leading you to the bar. You looked at him as if to remind him that you weren't here to drink, and his subtle smirk replied that he didn't care. He ordered two glasses of a merlot from the one region in Italy that'd won his respect, passing the glass to you once it was laid on the bar.

"To the finer things," he cheers'ed your glass and you scoffed with a laugh, taking a sip of the wine. The rich flavour burst through your mouth. It was dark and deep, spiced with... with... "Cedar," he offered, reading the analysis on your face. "Rosewood, cedar and some sort of stone-fruit."

"Nectarine."

He smiled and took another sip. "We don't have that on Asgard."

"This wine is good," you nodded as you two turned and deconstructed the room and all of its guests.

It made you kind of sick seeing all of these wealthy people in one place pretending to give a damn about Charlie McDane's birthday. It's not that you liked the guy, not at all, it just felt weird to know that every person in here was the exact kind of person you hunted down. Power-hungry. This mansion may as well be a lion's den. But full of naïve lions, who had no idea two apex predators just walked in.

Just when you started wondering how many people in your line of sight had also committed murder to protect their wealth and power, you saw Natasha give a subtle signal of which way the room with the safe was. Loki saw it too.

It was upstairs, but there wasn't much cover to get upstairs. The great foyer's ceiling was three stories up, the two floors above the ground floor you were on had square balconies that let the people upstairs peer downwards into the masses. Nat's fingers adjusting her hair told you that the room was on the second floor. Thankfully, there were guests on the second floor. Under the guise of admiration for the architecture and a desire to explore the great house, you pointed out works of art to Loki as you ascended the stairs together. When you walked past Natasha she smiled politely, like a good host, and asked if you were enjoying the wine.

"It's most divine. Though, I believe my beloved may be in search of a room to powder her nose."

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual choice of asking for information if you weren't aware that security's eyes were everywhere. Even on the event manager.

"You might find what you need up the stairs, down the first hall, third door on your right."

The way her hands were motioning didn't match her hushed description, so you followed the instructions in her voice instead of the way her hands were telling you.

You allowed Loki to lead you upstairs, down the first hall. When you two were certain there were no eyes, he concealed you two with his magic. The hallway was darkened. He pressed his hand against the lock and unfastened it with an unseen pure magic and you two slipped inside. It was a large office with grand mahogany furniture, decorated exactly as you'd expect Old Money Americans to decorate their office. Right down to the bear head above the fireplace and the first edition novels sitting proudly on the shelf, probably unread by their owners. That also made you a little sick: great words sitting unread as trophies.

Scanning the room for any obvious signs of the safe, your eyes settled on a panel in the wood on the side of the desk. There was a slightly smaller gap in the wood on one side, indicating hinges. You held your hands up to Loki and he conjured thin gloves to grace your fingers, then you pressed gently on the wood to engage the latch. The panel swung open to reveal the safe. Shifting out of the way, Loki took your place and placed a gloved hand on the dial. In less than three seconds, it spun rapidly in each direction before clicking open.

"We should really consider robbing banks," you whispered as the black metal door swung open and you were met with stacks of paper and envelopes.

"Need I remind you I am a Prince? If it's gold you want, darling, say the word."

"Eh," you shrugged, feeling around for the gun. "I meant more for the thrills."

Loki chuckled as your fingers found a familiar-feeling package. You pulled the envelope out and peered inside before showing Loki the sight of a small pistol. He nodded and took it from you carefully, then concealed it in some unknown magical space close to him.

You closed the safe carefully and then your gloves disappeared. Moving quietly back to the door, you listened for several moments to make sure no one was coming. Then, you both slid out and began walking down the hall like a loving couple.

Suddenly, a guard appeared at the end of the hallway. Thinking fast, you opened the closest door to you and pushed Loki inside. There was a shout you vaguely heard before you shut and locked the door again.

"Shit," you hissed. You were in someone's bedroom. Or maybe it was a guest room, considering how clean and un-lived-in it looked. There was a fireplace, like in the office, and a large four-poster bed against one wall. In the middle of the room were two plush couches that faced each other and were side-on to the door. You two walked over to them to get the vantage of being in the centre of the room and quickly searched for an exit.

"I'll cast an illusion," Loki whispered, ready to wave his hands and make it look as if you two weren't here.

"No!" You whispered, eyes wide. "They already saw us come in here. If we disappear, they'll know something's up and lock the place down."

"Then what do you propose?" He held his hands out, annoyingly unbothered by the prospect of blowing a mission. The doorknob twisted and you both snapped your heads towards it, then back at each other.

"Sit," you hissed and shoved him back onto the sofa right behind him. He stumbled and fell with a small indignant noise of surprise. You heard the tinkling of keys and your heart beat in your chest.

"Agent?"

Knowing the security team was about to enter, you acted fast. "I'll never hear the end of this," you mumbled before sliding forward to straddle his lap. His eyebrows shot up his forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and looked at him with nervous urgency. "Kiss me."

Loki didn't question it, and he certainly didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their place. One at the small of your back, one firmly gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. Then, he pulled you in for a fiery kiss.

You barely heard the door open as you lost yourself in the strength of his hold, the steady and eager grasp with which he held you. His hands found their places as if they'd been there a thousand times before, as if he knew exactly how you'd feel the safest, feel the most desired. You pulled him deeper by the back of his neck and could have sworn he made a small noise of satisfaction.

Oh no.

He kept kissing you, you kept kissing him, even after the head of the security team had cleared his throat a number of times. As much as you knew you'd already sold it, and boy you sold it well, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Were all Asgardians this good at kissing, or was it just Loki?

Oh. No.

"HEY!"

The sudden loud command pulled you away and, much to your internal mortification, you didn't need to feign how flustered you were.

"O-oh my," you squeaked and looked up at the man, blushing profusely.

Okay, the squeak was fake, but it felt almost real.

You stayed put where you were straddling Loki's lap and grimaced when you saw Natasha, still in character, entering the room. "What's going on, I need you downstairs to- oh!" She looked a little taken aback by your position atop the prince who, you were fuming to see from the corner of your eye, had the audacity to be smirking.

"My apologies," Loki drawled in his growly regal voice, trailing his hands around to your sides. "I simply couldn't control myself, seeing my queen in this dress..." He punctuated it with an "Mmph" and a firm squeeze at your hips. You flinched and squirmed a bit under the ticklish touch, trying to keep your composure but letting a small giggle slip out. Then, catching the pleased and mischievous glint in his eye, you dug your nails into the back of his shoulder to warn him off trying that again.

"This room's off limits," the guard tilted his head towards the door and you made to move your way off of Loki's lap. Instead, with his incredible strength, he stood with his hands still at your hips, lifting you to your feet before turning and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He looked the guard up and down, "Of course, good sir." You bit your lip and blushed, cowering in Loki's hold as you exited the room together. Nat smirked at you and winked before proceeding to fall back into character and tell the guards there was a belligerent drunk man downstairs needing to be kicked out. That man would be Wilson, who was playing his part as tipsy distraction.

Loki led you down the hall and you rounded a corner, then you broke off from him and held a hand to your chest. "That was too close," you breathed deeply once, then met his eye. You glared when he saw him smirking at you.

"Do I have lipstick on my face?" He asked, feigning worry.

"Oh, shut up," you swatted his shoulder. "I did what I had to do."

"I never knew you had the passion in you, Agent," Loki smirked again. You glared once more and peeked around the corner, only to jump and hold in a yelp as Loki's pinching fingers found your hip. "I also never knew you were so ticklish."

"That's not something people advertise- cut it ouhout!" You swatted his hand and squirmed away from him as he prodded his fingers into your side. "We have the gun, let's get out of here."

"Tsk, you're no fun," Loki scoffed.

You exited the party and made your way down the block towards the van, knowing that Nat's glasses had broadcast at least the last part of your little tussle with Loki. Steeling yourself as you gripped the handle, you reminded yourself that you were a professional, and this was sometimes a hazard of the job. You needed to play it cool when the eventual teasing came.

"Hey, lovebirds," Tony quipped the second he saw your faces.

"Hey," you chuckled, stepping inside and removing your heels the second you found your seat. "We got it."

"Here," Loki closed the door behind him and pulled the enveloped gun from the magical space he'd hidden it. "So you saw the Agent's display of passion, did you?"

"You wound me, Loki," you deadpanned. "I thought we had a mutual connection."

Perhaps those words were a mistake considering all the truth behind them. However, all the best lies were founded on truth, and for now you needed to convince everyone in the van that you weren't totally freaking out because you'd felt the most passionate attraction you'd had in years with a former villain. I mean... how predictable.

Loki looked at you suspiciously as he took his seat, but something in his gaze told you he wasn't going to prod deeper on this. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone.

Nat and Sam joined the fray five minutes later and you all got a move-on back to the Compound. Nat poked more fun at the position she'd found you two in, and you laughed good-naturedly at all their jokes. Loki was uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to always be looking at you when you laughed and instinctively checked to see if he was laughing too.

The jokes shifted to Sam and the wine he spilled down his shirt, then the conversation shifted to the next steps of what to do with the gun, then you all arrived back.

Tony got to work dismantling his rig, declining your help, and so you took your field weapons over to the cabinet to put them back in their places. As you were unclipping the magazine from your pistol, you felt a presence behind the door. You peered around to see Loki.

"What's up?" You raised your eyebrows and snapped the case shut, then closed the door.

He looked at you meaningfully, quizzically, but didn't say anything.

"Okay..." you chuckled uncomfortably and put the latch on the door in place. "I'm going to shower."

You made to walk past him but he grabbed your upper arm, stopping you by his side. Facing different ways, he leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly. "I can spot a lie from lightyears away."

Turning to look at him, you'd probably have been caught off-guard by how close his face was if it hadn't been for the events of earlier. You shrugged, pulling your arm from his grasp. "I didn't lie."

He scoffed and also turned to look at you, eyes flitting once down to your lips, then back up to pierce your gaze with his. "You know what I meant."

You were proud of how composed you kept yourself when you shrugged again and kept walking, swallowing hard.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Never one to waste water, you took an uncharacteristically long shower. Haphazardly smearing face wash over your skin to scrub the makeup off, scrub away the flustered energy. But no amount of scrubbing could help you forget the feeling of his kiss, and shampooing the hairspray from your head only made you remember the feeling of his fingers in your hair.

You reminded yourself that it had been a very long time since you'd kissed someone. You were probably just desperate, definitely a little touch-starved in general, so the fact that it was Loki didn't matter as much as the fact that it had happened.

That's what you told yourself over and over as you threw on sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt. It was cold and the marble floors could be unforgiving, so you thought it best to go for fluffy socks, but then pulled some slippered boots over the top. You didn't bother brushing your wet hair, letting it fall where it wanted as you made your way to the kitchen.

"That smells good," you commented as Nat pulled some dish out of the oven.

"Mmm," she agreed with an excited smile. "Nico is my favourite," she admitted slyly, referring to one of the chefs Pepper would call in to prepare a bunch of heatable meals during busy periods. Delivery app drivers would probably cancel the order if you tried, thinking it must be a joke that a super solider was asking for a Big Mac to be delivered to the Avengers Compound. Besides, by the time it was scanned and made sure to not contain a deadly poison, it would be cold and stale. "There's enough for you too," Nat said, pulling out another plate and serving you a steaming slice of vegetarian lasagne.

"Thanks," you smiled, still a little distracted. Of course, with someone as perceptive as Nat, that wouldn't be allowed to slip by.

She leaned against the counter and poked at her meal, not meeting your eye to keep it less direct. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, and so did she, then you looked back down to your food and shrugged. It was no use lying to her. "I think I'm lonely," you laughed humourlessly, nervously, sadly.

"The kiss got to you," she said knowingly, placing her fork down to give you her full attention. You didn't return the favour, nervous about what you'd say if you were really talking about this. Which, as long as you were here eating dinner, you weren't really talking about it.

"It's not like I haven't kissed a fellow Agent before to keep cover," you sighed a little, shaking your head. "It's just been a while, I guess, since I've had... anything... or, someone."

"I get that," she nodded, picking up her fork again. You two ate in silence for several moments. "This is really good," she declared through an extra-large mouthful. You chuckled and nodded, swallowing another bite. After several more moments, she said quietly, "It's okay if you felt something."

That made you choke a bit. Noticeably, unfortunately. You shook your head, but didn't deny it. "No. It's not okay."

"Why not?" She asked as if you were crazy.

"It's not okay," you repeated firmly, stabbing your fork again at the lasagna. "It's not."

Before she could attempt to pry for more information, Thor and Loki entered the kitchen together. Great.

"Good evening," Thor beamed a toothless smile.

"There's more in the fridge if you're hungry," you looked up at them in an attempt to not seem as regressed in on yourself as you felt. Thor looked at your plate and nodded in approval, opening the fridge. Then you looked at Loki, fully expecting to see some kind of calculating stare as before, but his expression was soft. He looked you over, probably noticing your out-of-character hunched posture and the way your head hung a little lower than usual, and he gave you a look that was subtly laced with sympathy.

Now that made your blood boil. Who was he to feel sorry for you?

He seemed to notice the way your jaw clenched under his gaze, and opened his mouth to say something but Thor spoke first.

"There's a film Stark wants us all to watch this evening."

Nat chuckled, finishing off her dinner. "You say that like he's showing us training videos. He's just trying to bond the team over some cheesy nineties movie." She looked at you and nodded to your clothes. "You look ready for a movie night."

Before you could explain that you'd rather go to bed, Thor beamed again. "Excellent, then! We'll all be there."

Thor was always kind to you, so you didn't want to disappoint him over something so inconsequential. You smiled warmly at him and nodded. "I'm gonna go claim a good spot," you excused yourself, aware it was almost time for it to start. You quickly did your dishes and left the kitchen, making sure to get a seat on a large armchair so you made it clear you'd rather have some personal space right now, even though it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Maybe it would be good for you though, to remember that you were alone for a reason. That this life you chose wasn't kind too love.

Gods, love. Why did you think of that word, of all the ones out there. You were spiralling. Sentiment, you corrected yourself with a swift reprimand. Sentiment, loneliness, desperation.

You busied yourself chatting to Wanda as people filtered in, taking note of how she seamlessly wove herself in and around Vision as they sat on a two-seater next to you. Determined not to look at or think of Loki or romance or kissing or anything like that, you trained your eyes on the screen as the movie started.

But you spiralled.

There were these two main characters in the movie with this undeniable bickering co-worker chemistry that reminded you of Loki, the jokes he’d whisper into your ear during meetings, the harmless mischief he’d pull to make you laugh, the way his hand felt at your lower back- NO. You couldn’t think about that.

Wanda and Vision were in your line of sight from the corner of your eye and you saw her fingers lace through his, you then saw him place a silent kiss on the crown of her head. Biting down on your tongue, you remembered Nat and Bruce, Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura. All those people who seemed to find love, even temporary love, in the midst of all this madness.

So maybe it wasn’t this life. Maybe it was just… you.

Biting your tongue a little harder, you reminded yourself how powerless you were compared to all these super-people. Sure, many of them were human like you, but all the other humans seemed to have someone who loved them.

It felt hopeless, knowing the only person in this room who you wanted close was so extraordinarily out of your league. He was a god. You were a human. Your life was a flicker compared to his, of course he’d never waste time indulging the likes of you.

But it felt real.

Halfway through the movie you decided you couldn’t sit there and see these buddy-cop characters fall in love. You couldn’t watch Wanda and Vision so enamoured with each other. What you needed was to hit something hard, and then go to sleep. So you excused yourself without a word or a glance at anyone. It was late, anyway. You weren’t even the first one to leave.

A turn of a black-haired form told you that Loki noticed you leaving, but the lack of footsteps behind you as you walked down the silent hall told you that he hadn’t followed you.

Slipping into your room and then into some workout clothes, you jammed your headphones into your ears and put on some classical music; you weren't sure you could stand to hear any words right now. You laced your shoes a little tighter than normal and practically sprinted to the gym, very unwilling to have anyone notice you were gone and decide to come check on you.

Hitting the bag felt good. It was the perfect consolation prize for what you'd actually prefer right now, but with every crushing of your knuckles against the thick canvas you found it easier to forget how it felt to have your fingers looped through his hair. The sweat dripping down your face replaced the feeling of his breath against your skin when you'd broken the kiss, and the aching in your obliques from your tensing and turning to hit the bag took the place of any memory of his hands at your waist. The aching was here, and he was almost gone.

After a half-hour of interval sprints, it was just past midnight and you were exhausted. Not knowing how you felt about no one coming to check on you, you traipsed back to your room in silence. The faint echoing of your footsteps through the hallways made you quiet yourself further, stepping as lightly as you could to prove to yourself that you were still a good spy. Good spies don't get caught up with feelings. Your footsteps fell, dead quiet, and you regained some confidence.

Your muscles stung the next morning but in a delightful way. You'd treated yourself to another hot shower when you got back to your room, so this morning it would probably be best to have an icy one.

As the cold water hit your skin, you felt okay again. The boxing and running last night had really shaken everything out of you, only the smallest lingering of lonely desire remained and it could easily be ignored. Of course, that was easy to say. The second you walked into the kitchen to see that Loki had heard you coming and poured you a coffee you felt a tug at your chest.

His hands closed around the mug to pass it to you and you remembered how his fingers had closed around your waist. He smiled good morning and you remembered how his lips felt against yours. Holding it all in, you smiled and took the coffee, then proceeded to have a short conversation with him like a normal person would. He made jokes about last night, but not about that, and you chuckled at them. After perhaps too short a time for how long you usually chatted, you excused yourself to go do some paperwork. You caught the way his brow furrowed a little, but he didn't question you.

The next few days were more or less like this. You'd try to engage with Loki normally but spiral a little more, convincing yourself that the more you continued like you always had, the more normal things would be again. But he was just so... beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful and now you couldn't help but notice.

One evening, nearly a week after you'd kissed, you were having a bit of a vulnerable day and you walked into the kitchen for some ice cream. Loki had just finished cleaning up after his dinner and turned to say hello, but you couldn't do it. You just turned and walked right back out again. He called after you but you didn't stop. It's not like you were going to cry in front of him, but you just couldn't do this right now.

Seeking refuge in your bedroom, you shut the door and slid down to the floor with your back against it. An immediate soft knock frustrated you, especially knowing who it probably was. You sighed and stood.

“Hey,” you greeted Loki with a nod when you opened the door, immediately turning away to make it look like you were about to do something else. “What’s up?”

Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, which made you stop and give him your attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied.

He squinted for the faintest second and smiled a little sadly. “Light years,” he reminded you how he could spot a lie without harshly calling you out. It pained you that he didn’t. That his lack of sarcasm indicated that he saw you as a bit fragile right now.

You sighed a little and ducked your head to the side, conceding the point. “I’m a little haywire,” you admitted. “I think I need to get some stress out and go to sleep.”

”What troubles you?”

Ah. What a question.

You didn’t want to shut him out, but you certainly didn’t know how to explain that one simple kiss undercover had brought a massive crashing wave of insecurity and anxiety that made you feel completely unlovable. Or... maybe you could just say that?

You were silent for so long that Loki spoke again.

“I’d like to offer my apologies,” he said very diplomatically. “If I overstepped the bounds of our relationship.”

“I’m the one that made you kiss me,” you winced. “I should be apologising.”

”I didn’t mean that,” Loki shook his head. “I meant after, when we returned. When I cornered you.”

You had to laugh. “You didn’t corner me, Loki. I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better but you have nothing to apologise for.”

”Very well. But you didn’t make me,” he replied firmly.

“I know, I know…” you rolled your eyes. “A god submits to no one, I just meant that I put you in a situation that I shouldn’t have. Believe me, I’m paying the price.”

That last part came out a little faster than you’d intended it to. In fact, you didn’t really mean to say that last part out loud at all. Or maybe you did. What a perfect Freudian Slip. Quickly collecting yourself, you spotted your headphones and went to pick them up but noticed that Loki was taking slow steps towards you.

”Paying the price?” He asked carefully. You stopped and folded your arms, shrugging.

“People poke fun, you know.” You bit your tongue. Then, you saw him smirk a little. Ah. Lightyears.

“I thought we had a mutual connection,“ he raised his eyebrows, teasing you with your joke from That Night. You gave him a firm stare, but couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t that far away now.

“Loki, that was-“

“A thinly veiled truth,” he interjected, leaving no room for debate. He also left very little room between the two of you. You opened your mouth to respond, seemed to not be able to, and he smirked at your speechlessness.

"Y-you can't." You shook your head. "There's no way."

"There's no way, what?" A smiled tugged at his lips at the way your eyes widened when he took a strand of your hair and wrapped it once around his finger.

"... Mutual?"

“Now that we won’t be interrupted…” he brought his hand up next to his face, flourished it, and you heard your door’s lock click shut. You held your breath as a mischievous grin graced his lips.

Oh gods, you were looking at his lips. You couldn't seem to look away.

He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “Might we finish what we started?”

With the smallest nod of your head, he immediately ducked his head to press his lips against yours. Your small noise of surprise made him pull away for a second and grin, before he playfully growled and lifted you from the ground. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he walked a few steps and firmly shoved your back against the wall. Your breath hitched as his hand found that place at the back of your neck, and this time, you kissed him. Eagerly, hungrily, feeling so overwhelmingly euphoric that this was even happening.

It had to be a dream, you thought as his lips trailed along your jawline, his hot breath hit your neck and his strong unwavering arms kept you above the ground and level with his gaze. He kissed you not just like a god or a great lover - he kissed you like he wanted you. Like he‘d also been waiting to do this for an unspeakable amount of time. It felt like relief.

Pulling you both back from the wall, Loki's lips didn’t relent as your fingers tangled once again in his hair. He walked backwards and found his seat on the end of your bed, sitting with you in his lap as he had at the party.

“Gods, you enrapture me,“ he pulled away, a little breathless. He grinned and his eyes were hazy. He looked at you intensely before looking back at your lips, subconsciously slipping out his tongue to wet his own. Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You could have melted into his touch. In fact, you were fairly certain you just might.

He leaned back and you both fell onto the bed, you on top of him. You laughed at the sudden impact and you pulled away for a few seconds to catch your breath. You looked at his adoring gaze and blushed. “I never thought someone like you could want someone like me.”

He furrowed his brow, unsure if you were about to reference his nefarious past.

”You’re so… mighty. You’re a Prince, a god, you’re wickedly smart and powerful and… and I’m just a human.”

“Watch your tongue,” Loki scolded somewhat seriously and held you a little tighter. “Don’t speak of yourself as if you’re insignificant.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, giving him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, I’m wickedly smart,” he smirked and you playfully swatted at his chest. He smiled contentedly and ran his hands firmly down your sides to settle at your hips. It was an innocent romantic gesture, one to position you for further making-out with Loki, but your eyes widened at the memory of his discovery the previous weekend and the assumption that the God of Mischief was about to turn the tables.

Unluckily for you, your flustered expression rendered it a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“Loki…” You warned as you saw the glint in his eye.

“That’s right…” His smirk widened to a devilish grin.

”How about you keep kissing me, huh?” You laughed nervously and leaned in closer. Loki laughed and nodded, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your neck as you pressed your lips to his. Once your arms were around his neck, he deepened the kiss and rolled over, putting you underneath him. Still on the edge of the bed, your feet barely skimmed the floor. Then, he suddenly became the classic Loki you knew.

“Mmmhmhm!” You whined and giggled a little into the kiss as the fingers belonging to his arm around your waist started ever so gently scratching at your side. “Mmnnoho!” You broke away and gave him a pouting look. He lifted his head and smirked.

Gods. He’d never looked so unspeakably hot.

Messy curls framing his face, that look he gave you that said You’re In Trouble in his distinct Loki way, mixed with the desire in his piercing blue eyes; you’d gladly endure his torture if it meant he looked at you like that.

But maybe that’s because you had no idea what was coming.

“Darling,” he cocked his head and kissed your cheek before kissing just below your ear. “I am the God of Mischief….“ he kissed your neck in a way that you were sure was intended to tickle. You giggled and bit your lip. “And now that I've got my hands on you, you simply cannot expect me to not exploit this little weakness to its fullest extent.”

“L-Loki!” You blushed at the very real threat and he chuckled.

“How about you guide me, hmm? Where should I start?”

“I’m not playing this game,” you laughed nervously, squirming a bit underneath him and resting your hands on his shoulders to push away the ticklish kisses.

“Aw, come now,” he lifted his head and that same beautiful smirk made your heart beat quick. His hand behind your neck slid down under your shoulder blade until it sat at your upper ribs. You stole a glance down to where it may be, even though you couldn’t see it. He cocked his head again. “No? Alright, I’ll choose.” With a wink his thumb slipped around the side and up into the hollow under your arm.

“LOKI!” You gasped, clamped your arm down from instinct and immediately started squirming and giggling, even though his thumb wasn’t even moving. He grinned again and kissed your lips once more.

“You've been down all week, love. Let's have a bit of fun,” he whispered, then sprang his hand at your waist into action, scratching and grabbing at the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You gasped again and started laughing softly, then squeaked when his thumb started wiggling into the hollow under your arm.

"NOHOHO!" You shut your eyes and then squealed loudly when his fingers underneath you began clawing into the back of your uppermost ribs. Damnit, you thought he may start easy on you, not go for three different places at once. You were already in a desperate cackle, bubbling incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as you writhed underneath his amused self.

"I'm honestly delighted you're so ticklish," Loki teased with a chuckle. "It's adorable, really. So professional all the time, yet..." He finished his sentence by intensifying his touch and speed at all three sites of attack, drawing a small shriek from your laughing lips and a jolt from your body. "Has it always been this easy to undo you?"

“OHMYGOHOD!” You shrieked, throwing your head against the bed and trying to buck your upper body against him to no avail. He paused his torture and kissed you deeply again, lips curled into a smile as he pressed his lips to yours. You shook your head and broke away, still laughing. “Youhou’re ridiculous! We were hahaving such a nice moment and y-you ruined ihit,” you whimpered. He kissed to again to silence your complaints.

“What did you expect?”

“I-I expected a nice romantic moment!” You laughed and brought both arms between you and him to shove at his shoulders. “Now,” you gave him a stern look. “Do you want to tickle me, or kiss me? You can only choose one.”

He scoffed. “I don’t do ultimatums, darling.”

“You do now.”

“Bold.“ He stuck his tongue against his cheek then ducked his head to the side in consideration. He then looked at your face, which you’d been attempting to hold in some semblance of a firm glare. He lowered his lips to your ear and you heard him chuckle once. “Far too bold for someone so ticklish.”

He whipped his arms out from under you and pressed his weight down again, trapping your arms between your bodies as he clawed into the front and sides of your lowest ribs.

“NOHOAHAH!” You immediately fell into desperate belly-laughter as his fingers drilled and clawed into the spaces between your bones. Your feet kicked helplessly, merely grazing the ground as laughter kept spilling from you. “NOHO! NO! LOKIHI I CAHAN’T!” He shifted his hands further up your ribcage and snuck his fingers around to dig in at the back and, after one more shriek, your laughter went silent. It was trapped in your chest as his squeezing and vibrating fingers found every sensitive space on your ribs that made you want to melt into a little puddle. You were gasping for air by the time he halted his attack, squeaking and wheezing as you tried to regain your breath.

It was torture, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you if it was worth enduring to have him this close. If he could spot a lie from lightyears away, how much easier could he spot it when he was close enough for you to see the flecks of green in his eyes.

”You’re… you’re gonna kill me,” you hiccoughed. He smirked and leaned in for another kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you pulled your finger up as much as you could from where your arms were trapped. “You made your choice.”

He grinned and slid his hands down your sides with a wink, "Oh? Then I'll gladly continue."

"W-w-wait! I dihidn't th-WAHAIT!"

His thumbs drilled relentlessly into your hips as Loki joined in with your loud laughter. You finally managed to wiggle your arms out from where they were trapped at your chest, shooting them down to grab at his fingers. Your feet having no traction and his near entire weight pressing you to the bed made it impossible to buck or lift any part of your torso, so you were completely trapped with nowhere to go as he gripped and grabbed at the skin of your hips, kneading at the pressure points that made you squeak and squirm beneath him.

When he tired of your fingers trying to grab his, he did a devilish swift lift of his own body and slotted his hands between the two of you, settling them palms-down over the majority of your belly. You made a huge gasping noise and started frantically giggling and squealing even before he'd moved his hands. You shook your head and begged for him to kiss you instead, nervous high-pitched giggles interlacing your words.

"N-noho, Loki just kihiss me, kiss me plehease! PLEASE!" You squeaked, cupping his cheeks and gently pulling him towards you. He chuckled and grinned, gently digging a few fingers in just once. You thrashed and renewed your struggling and squealing efforts. "Dohon't you DAHARE! I won't kiss you agahain if you do this!" You threatened. He cocked his head and leaned in a little closer to look deep into your eyes. Then, he grinned and whispered:

"Lightyears."

You thought for certain you'd pass out from laughter when Loki's fingers sprang into action and rippled against your hypersensitive stomach. You laughed loudly, completely powerless to stop his fingers from digging in wherever they pleased. After not much time at all, your laughter went silent and you weakly batted at his shoulders, sides, face, anything your hands could find for themselves since your eyes were shut so tight. Any words your brain even began to think of forming got lost as laughter ripped through your chest from the electric intensity of his fingers against your body.

When your hands finally found both sides of his face, you used all the energy you had left to press your laughing lips against his and, finally, he relented. You fell back with a loud gasp as he retracted his hands with an amused chuckle and took his weight mostly off you, propping himself up with a hand planted either side of your head.

"Alright there, darling?" He teased as you coughed weakly and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks. You gave him a scowl, but he found it adorable.

"Thihis isn't fair," you crossed your arms defiantly.

"No?" He smirked. "Pray tell, my love. What isn't fair?"

Oh. My love. His love.

That took any breath you'd managed to get back in your lungs.

"Y-you... you..." But your words were lost in the bliss of being his. He seemed to quickly understand how his words touched your heart, and it softened his teasing demeanour, and softened his smirk into a smile. "You found my worst spots so soon," you managed to murmur through rosy cheeks.

"Was only a matter of time."

"But now you have the upper hand."

"Dear heart, this isn't a struggle for power," he laughed heartily. "I do not seek to rule over you. Anything you ask of me, anything in the Nine Realms, I will give to you."

"Tell me where you're ticklish."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before falling down beside you. He hummed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as you could be.

"Anything but that."

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki tickle fluff #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #marvel tickle #marvel fluff #marvel reader insert

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1kook · 3 years

Text

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly.

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking.

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot.

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment.

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon.

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now.

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway.

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.”

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds.

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims.

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay?

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.”

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks.

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off.

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.”

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line.

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.”

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain.

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him.

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.)

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.”

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you.

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you.

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

#networkbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #mine

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after.

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance, “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory; crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm ; @frankenstein852 ; @neavil ; @shephard17895 @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia ; @sangwoahbigbussy ;

@Kurok1717 ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi ; @airybnb ; @katshuya ; @atsuhaya

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #cigarettes and parfaits

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lol-jackles · 2 years

Note

could you please share your thoughts on russia/ukraine if you’re comfortable with it?

I'll try to keep this short.

First, my emotional gut reaction. A dear family friend's mother is the sole survivor during the Stalin-led invasion of Ukraine. Her family were farmers caught between Russian Reds and Whites, their livestock and grain stolen, her sister tied to a tree and repeatedly raped. Her family only had enough money to send one person out of Ukraine to escape the Holodomor that would eventually kill 4 million Ukrainian peasants. My friend's mother was chosen to survive, she was 16 at the time. She was able to make her way to America and was taken in by a Catholic family so that she wouldn't be turned away at Ellis island. She eventually married a fellow Ukrainian refugee who worked in the West Virginian coal mines, moved to Pittsburgh for a better job in the steel mills, and there my friend was born. After 10 years of hard work, her parents were able to move up into a modest middle-class lifestyle. My friend married a rising lawyer who would partake in prosecuting corrupt DC officials, including DC's own mayor Barry. Last Saturday we listened to her talk about her mother's harrowing stories of survival and struggles, something she couldn't talk about for nearly 5 decades.

There's a saying I've heard coming out of the Polish and Ukranian enclaves in the U.S; “don’t mess with Polacks or Ukranians . . . we’re either your best friends or your worst enemies . . . history made us this way”.

Second, some say Putin felt cornered by the expanding NATO nations and unhappy that Russia’s sole purpose in relation to Europe is a gas station. But I think that's just an excuse. Personally, I think this is about Putin wanting to see his country return to the “glory days” of the USSR, when it controlled territory all the way up to East Germany. Ukraine is a significant consideration in that regard - and the gradual usurpation of territory started in 2014, when Russia annexed Crimea. I hope I'm wrong in that this is about Kaliningrad and Ukraine is just Russia testing the NATO/EU waters. Putin will position Russia as the victim of historic grievances (something that hits China's nerve) and ask for a piece of Latvia or Poland. Since no way anybody would agree to that then the Baltic republics will be attacked in order to be re-claimed. If NATO (read: the United States) doesn’t defend Lithuania despite Article 5, then the alliance is destabilized. If NATO doesn’t help, the Baltic Sea falls squarely under Russian control. The Baltic republics are as good as gone at that point and both Finland and Sweden need that sea to function. So the EU is destabilized and Russia climbs back on top of that hill.

According to Wikipedia, two thirds of Ukraine soil is extremely fertile black earth (chernozems). That got Ukraine the nickname of “breadbasket”. I think Putin expects to enter more wars, knows an economic blockade will come and is taking care of Russia's future food needs. Remember when the Boston Marathon bombers were revealed to be Chechen Tsarnaev brothers? I thought of them when I read that Chechan fighters may have been among the first group to invade Ukraine.

"Kufti of the Chechen Republic Says Ukraine Invaders Are 'On the Path of Allah' as thousands of men from Chechnya are willing to offer assistance to Russia’s armed forces." (X) (X).

The bizarre alliance between Putin and the Chechnyans had me thinking Putin has conscripted these Islamists to go in first as cannon fodders, suffering the heaviest casualties and saving his own troops for later. As far as the motivation for these Islamists? Maybe Putin gave the Chech's an offer they could not refuse....as in kidnapping the Ukranina women and children and taking them back on the Chechen homefront? Maybe?

If Russia has sent in Chechen fighters to fight urban battles, it would get ugly very soon.

Third, my cold pragmatic prediction is that in the long run (say 5 to 20 years) the geopolitical winners will be America, China, and France. While the losers will be Russia, Germany, and India.

For Europeans, their honeymoon of living off American security + Russian oil + Chinese market is over. Especially Germany, the European countries will have to pony up their own money for their defenses. The Chinese market is why the EU ignored or avoided America's attempt to get them on the same page regarding China. For years the EU attitude towards American-Chinese geopolitical competition was, "We can just continue to increase our trade with China, we don’t need to pick a side since we’re not anywhere near the region of conflict.” Now that is out the window because with Russia becoming a client state at the mercy of China’s patronage, the Europeans are starting to realize that the more money you put into China's pockets, the more missiles get loaded into Russian guns. Now this does not mean the EU will cut Chinese trade off, nooooooo that would be crazy. It merely means that from now on they can't pretend that they're strengthening Chinese economic growth at their own peril.

France relied on its own nuclear energy instead of the Great Gas Station of the North and therefore did not set itself up at the mercy of Moscow with respect to energy needs. France also does not depend very much for trade on China so by not being overly dependent on global trade is a major strength in times of conflict because then Russia and China have little to zero leverage over France. France has been much like America by being largely self-sufficient in all of the key strategic aspects - food, energy, armaments, and technology. In contrast Germany had 20 years of bad leaders, especially Gerhard Schroeder who was best friends with Putin and allowed it's economy and energy dependence to be held hostage to Russia and making its GDP the white elephant in geopolitical terms. India may or may not be following Germany in energy and armaments insecurity.

Brexit likely saved Britain by leaving the EU and not dependent on Russian gas. So Brexiteers, go ahead and take credit for sparing the U.K from the fallout that the EU economy is about to experience.

Lastly, I admit I thought Putin would start the invasion at Donbas and pushing in from Crimea. I was taken by complete surprise when I heard that Kyiv was under assault. I was expecting them to go for the knees but they went straight for the jugular. If they take Kyiv eastern Ukraine will fall, and we'll see yet another east-west nation in Europe.

The only thing that doesn’t surprise me is the timing. People like Putin, Kim Jong Un, and Xi Jinping were at least scared of Trump. One thing no world leader was ever going to do was antagonize Trump. He was going to (pretend) to out-crazy any crazy dictator. But Biden? Pphhhhfffft.

#war against ukraine #Putin #Ukraine #Poland

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17caratssi · 3 years

Text

Wonwoo! Will you stay

Jeon Wonwoo! A short series pt one | two | three | four Being rejected for the first time doesn't put you off. In fact, your interest in him grows bigger.

You don't remember what happens after you blurt that offering out to Wonwoo. But for sure, Wonwoo rejects you on the spot.

"If you think I was joking, nope. I was serious and it's probably the most serious question I've ever asked in my life,"

"Yeah, sure. The answer is still no. Let me tell you something,"

Your eyes sparkle with hope. Is he going to say that he's not ready yet, and if I work harder, maybe he'll reconsider?

Wonwoo thought he would never have to tell anyone this, but this may be the best.

"I give no shit about anything and being here in this school just makes me sick. I want to quickly graduate so that I can die in peace,"

"And also, I have no plan to be nice to girls who approach me." he finishes what he wanted to say. It sounds cruel, and even some of it isn't what he intended to say, but he just wants to put an end to her.

If she's smart, she would be clear of it.

But you don't care the things Wonwoo spouts. You like him, and your eyes are on him.

"Okay then! I'll try my hardest to charm you," you squeeze your hand in determination. You don't waver from his intense stare and add, "You know, this is my first time confessing to a guy and this is also my first time getting rejected but I'm pretty sure I can make you my boyfriend. I can wait, yes. Even it takes me 10 years, as long as I like you, I will pursue!"

Wonwoo shrugs and turns away. He's not certain of you, and your word kind of stir him a little. In 18 years of life, you are the first person to talk to him in this way and disregard whatever he said.

Since young, Wonwoo limits himself to talking. He pays a lot of attention to his words to avoid unnecessary emotions. However, today, he finally meets his contender.

"My warning remains valid,"

"Alright!"

After school, Wonwoo packs his bag and leaves the class immediately.

Wonwoo has to do part-time for his family. Initially, he wanted to turn down the scholarship, but his mother secretly accepted the offer. All she wants for Wonwoo to continue school and not bury his youth with responsibilities.

With the other five siblings, he couldn't possibly let his old mother do all the work. Therefore, he applies for the empty cashier position nearby his rented house just three kilometres from the school. His part-time job requires him to arrive fast, and since he hasn't gotten his bicycle, Wonwoo has to run to the convenience store.

You followed him from behind, but he is sure fast! You panted all the way to the elevator as you watch him uses the stairs and speeds away.

"Y/N!" Yuran, your childhood best friend, calls your name.

Yuran is the one that introduces you to this school when she was informed that you will return to Korea. She is a year older, and she treats you like a sister since you are the only child. You always love to be around here, and now that you two are in the same school, you will have a friend to rely on.

You wave at her as she jogs toward you.

"How's the first day?"

You contemplate. You are not familiar with Korea, and it seems the people here are so different to Americans. You scratch your head.

"So far, good." You opt for a lie and only remember about Wonwoo. "Oh! My seatmate is handsome," you brag.

"That's all you can think of?" She nudges your arm lightly.

Frankly, 80% of the time, you just admire him.

You realize that his side profile is wonderfully sculpted; the sharp jawline and the distance between his forehead and eyebrows are just right.

You are going to appreciate this beautiful human being while you are alive.

"Yuran-eonnie, come to my house this Saturday," you link your arm around Yuran's, and in an excited voice, you add, "My family is hosting a house-warming party. It's not grand so we invite only close friends. Therefore, you must come!"

Yuran giggles and pat your arm.

"Of course I would come! I miss your mom a lot. Will she cook?"

"HAHA! My dad won't let her cook anymore so we might as well order for the food,"

"Ugh, your dad is still so overprotective. Their love never dies, huh?"

You sigh at the thought of your parents' affection. It's admirable but tiring for me. It's like they feed me dog food every day!"

The two of you burst out laughing. The chat goes on until you come to the gate. Yuran left first, and you wait for your dad to pick you up.

"How's school?"

You beam at your dad and answer truthfully. "Great! I might get a boyfriend soon, though- Why are you laughing?" you whine.

"Nothing, I just hope to meet my son-in-law. I can't wait to lecture him,"

"Dad!!?"

"What? I must tell him that my daughter is the most precious human being and he is obligated to love you for the rest of his life if he wants to marry you!"

"Like how you love mom?"

"Yeah, of course. He better be overflowing with love for you or else,"

You smile. Your dad is always overreacting when it comes to this topic. He has very high expectations of the boys you mention to him, and it scares you since Wonwoo doesn't reciprocate your feeling just yet.

As the car passes the buildings, you recognize Wonwoo, who's running to his destination. You grin and pull your dad's hand.

"Dad, please stop the car!"

The tires screech to halt, and in a blink, you already come out of the car and reach Wonwoo. He pants and is in confusion as to how you manage to chase him. Then, he realizes.

"What do you want?"

You scan him and wipe the beads of perspiration on his face. You flash a happy smile before saying.

"Where's your driver?"

Wonwoo, for a second, almost couldn't identify the person. He is baffled. "W-what?"

"Oh! Jump in, I'll send you home,"

Wonwoo is taken aback. What do you mean by 'Where's your car?' but before he gets to ask you, he's being pulled by force. Plunge into the backseat, Wonwoo's awareness heightens in the presence of someone in the driver seat.

"Where are you going? My dad can drive you there,"

In fact, you're the only person in the car that's jubilant. Your dad is sceptical to Wonwoo, and the same goes for the latter.

"I can walk,"

You quickly stop him from opening the door. "Dad, we can send him to his place, right?"

Your dad looks at the rear-view mirror and hesitates. He eventually gives in and replies.

"Yes, dear," his sight swifts to Wonwoo. "Boy, tell me where you're going?"

Wonwoo grunts lowly and tells the two the direction. Since he isn't going back home and doesn't want anyone to know he's working part-time, he lies.

You keep talking to Wonwoo despite getting no answer. He closes his eyes and clears his mind.

Once arrive, you follow him out.

"I'll excuse you this time because your father is watching. I won't tolerate your behaviour next time!"

The atmosphere at that moment is calm and clear. Though cars are passing by, they make no sound. Hence, you can definitely understand what he meant.

"Don't go running about in the noon, you'll get sick! See you tomorrow at school!"

As a girl, you totally get the meaning of Wonwoo's words. He cuts through your heart with his harsh warning, and you endure it.

Maybe this is my karma since I always leave the people around me. These few foul words from the person I like aren't that bad. I'm willing to be on the receiving end.

You enter the car with your lips stretch to your ears. To avoid getting questioned by your father of Wonwoo's identity, you avert the attention.

"Dad, thank you for taking me in,"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I've created a schedule for this series- every Wednesday and Saturday, but it also depends on the chapter availability. Since I'm on my semester break, I have more time to write it unless I have writer's block. I accept requests for drabbles, one shot and anything you want me to write ;)

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

#wonwoo #seventeen #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo one shot #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo au #seventeen au #kpop au #kpop imagine #kpop #wnwoo_will you stay #wonwoo_WYS2

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racheloveyunho · 3 years

Text

Till Death do us part - 2

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, smut, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2237

TW series: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

TW chapter: Body shaming, reader being forced into a marriage, character got slapped, swearing, threats.

I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

---------

Chapter 2

2 years after.

---------

Days and months went by so fast, I didn't even see them go by.

It has already been two years since my first meeting with San and since then, I didn't met him again. However, he was still on my mind, from the moment I woke up tired in the morning until the moment my head was hitting the pillow at night.

I just couldn't stop myself from thinking about him, his voice, his gaze, his touch, and the shivers he gave me when his mouth had come close to my ear.

"Hey sis’, what is going on? You had been absent-minded for a while and I still don't know why" Jin said with a hint of worry in his voice before he looked around, checking the surroundings to make sure we were alone "Is it because of dad?" he asked.

For the first time since our mother passed away, dad was at home for a whole month without any explanation. He was now working from home and even though It was something I dreamed of a few years ago, it was now so stuffy, I couldn’t breathe properly in my own house. Every single time I went outside of the comfort of my room, I silently prayed not to meet him, hoping that our house was big enough to let me avoid him.

"I'm fine but I'll be better if he wasn't around" I shrugged while looking at my plate "I'm not hungry today" I nonchalantly played with my food.

"Please force yourself and eat a little, you loosed too much weight recently" he furrowed his eyebrows with true concern in his soft brown eyes.

"I'm fine Jin, really! No need to worry for me" I stood up but felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my track.

I turned around and saw my dad with his usual stern expression "Sit down." he calmly ordered.

I sat down without a word, I knew I was about to be lectured one more time.

"Why are you not eating?" my dad asked, voice sounding more as a threat than a question.

"Not hungry" I simply answered.

A long silence settled in the dining room, Jin and I were looking down, trying to avoid any eye contact with the man we referred to as our dad. I laughed internally at the situation, wondering if the kids in other families were afraid of their parents too.

"You don't have to eat if you don't want to, men love slim girls so it'll be good for you to start a diet." He stated, unbothered by the awkward silence.

I was annoyed by his remark 'how dare he' I thought 'Is he thinking my body is his?'

"I'll be dumb if I'd choose a man who loves me just for my body, I will not change anything for anyone" I retorted, Jin nodding in approval, visibly proud of me. But, my father didn’t seem pleased at all by my answer and my rebellious behavior.

"Well, I wasn't talking about any random man, but about your fiancé. He likes slim girls." my dad crossed his arms.

I shot a glance back at my father with wide eyes, he was smirking over my shocked expression, feeling visibly satisfied by the way he made me go silent.

"My fiancé? What are you talking about? I never had a boyfriend in my whole life, how could I have a fiancé?" I shouted, standing up from my chair which quickly and loudly fell on the ground.

"I chose a good boy for you, he is the son of a rich politician who will be useful to me and the future of my company. In two months, when you'll turn 20, you will marry him" he said, not sparing a glance at me as he busily taped on the screen of his new expensive phone.

My mouth was now wide open, and so was my brother's.

Jin stood up angrily, it was the first time I ever saw him defy our father's authority. His brown eyes who always seemed so soft to me were now darker than ever. The anger in his body was showing with his tensed muscles and the vein in his forehead that was angrily popping up. His jaw was so tight, I swore he could have been able to break his own teeth.

"What to do you mean she will marry him? Are you not concerned about your daughter's happiness? Can't you stop thinking about your work and think more about your family instead, for at least once in your life? That's why mom died! You-..." Jin got slapped by my father before he could even finish his sentence. Our father’s face was red and rage was visible through his eyes.

I gasped and kneeled myself to my brother's side, the impact was so hard that he was now laying on the ground, his right hand hiding his red cheek. Jin shot a death stare up at my father who was still standing in front of us.

"I heard that you want to integrate the Seoul national university, Y/N. You will need money for that, right? If you marry this man, I'll give you all the money you want. If not, you can already say goodbye to this dream of yours." he told me with a harsh voice "Think well cause your birthday is coming up" he added before exiting the room.

I collapsed on the floor, tears were stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. Jin hugged me tightly and patted my back, whispering sweet nothings to my ear to comfort me the best he could.

I hid my head on his neck and cried silently, I hated this, hated this situation, hated this life. I was like a bird trapped in a silver cage.

I ate nothing for the rest of the day after my dad had announced my upcoming wedding.

I still couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. How come a father could do this to his only daughter? Wasn't he supposed to love and cherish me?

It was Saturday and after a lazy morning, I finally stood up to do my daily routine. I put the prettiest dress I had on my dressing and put natural makeup on. I tried my best to cover up my dark circles and hide the exhaustion in my face caused by a long night of crying.

Today, my best friend Hana and I, planned to hang out together for a shopping day. It was the best way for me to think about something else than my current situation.

I took a look at my phone and saw her message "Hey honey, I'm waiting in front of your house~" I read before smiling and joining her outside the house, in front of the big gateway.

"Wow, you are stunning! Why is that? You're going to meet this San again?" She smiled widely.

Hana is the first friend I ever made in my life, I first met her when I was just 6 years old and she always stayed by my side even when I went through hard times. Her cheerful personality and her warm smile made her easy to get along with, she was the best at socializing, she was literally a burst of energy by herself and never failed to make me crack up a smile even when I wasn’t in a good mood. She made everyone feel attracted to her, she wasn’t only nice and outgoing but beautiful and funny as well. Her short and messy hair were completing her chubby cheeks and her brown eyes. Her tall frame and perfect curves made everyone drool over her, men and women.

She knew everything about my life. When something happened to me, she was the first one I talked to.

"I already told you! I know nothing about him, I don't even have his phone number, how could I meet him?" I pouted before laughing playfully.

We took the first bus we saw and headed downtown.

"It's a shame he isn't on any social media" she whined loudly "Dude, don't get me started" I answered, almost complaining.

During the bus ride, I talked once again about how I felt about San and the gorgeous charisma he had. Hana listened to me as if it was the first time I talked about this whilst I already told her a hundred times before.

Within ten minutes, we had reached our destination.

"Y/N! Look at this! I'm sure this top will fit you perfectly" I heard Hana yelling from the other side of the shop.

Everyone looked at us, some customers were judging us silently while others smiled, probably finding amusement in my friend’s behavior. I apologized to the other customers for the noise and quickly went to my friend's side, slightly embarrassed even though I was used to it. Hana didn't know the word "silent".

After 3 hours of shopping, I went outside to eat ice cream with Hana. We moved to a quiet spot with no one around. The weather was nice, it was a sunny day and I let myself relax under the comfortable heat. I always liked rainy days better but I liked to feel the sun against my skin from time to time.

"I'm sorry to say this Y/N, but your father is truly an asshole" Hana swore between her teeth after I told her what happened at home the previous day.

"I don't know what I'm going to do about this. Is it better to agree and then divorce this guy? But my dad is well-known, he always will find a way to keep me under his grip, no matter what I do. I feel completely useless and trapped, I can’t find a good way to escape from this" I spoke in a low tone, sadness filling my voice the more I talked.

I sighed, concerned by the situation I was into. Hana gently rubbed my back to give me some comfort while my head was on her shoulder. We stayed silent for a few minutes, both of us didn’t know what to say because we both knew that there was no way I could escape my fate.

"Excuse me, are you Kim Y/N?"

I turned around to see who had called my name. In front of me stood was a well-dressed man, a bit older than me with a confident look. He wasn't especially handsome, but he wasn't unpleasant to look at. He had this classic Korean vibe one could find everywhere here in Korea.

"Yes? Who are you?" I politely asked.

He took my hand in his own, making me stand up from the bench I was sitting in. Soon after, he put a slight kiss on the back of my hand.

"What the hell?" I shouted and took my hand off his.

It wasn't in our culture to do something like this so I first assumed he had grown up abroad but honestly, from what I knew, even in the USA or Europa no one kissed a perfect stranger met in the street less than ten seconds ago.

"Who the heck are you?" Hana jumped between the man and me.

"I'm Hwang Jinyoung, her future husband" he simply stated, a smirk on his face.

"I never agreed on that." I frowned my eyebrows at his statement.

"What do you mean you never agreed? Your father told us that you were glad to be my future wife" The man seemed truly surprised or at least, he was pretending well to be.

"He lied!" I yelled out, the anger taking over me while I clenched my fists, nails finding their way onto y skin.

I was angry that my father had one more time, talked for me without my consent. My body was shaking from anger while the man laughed at my reaction.

"Move, you're in my way" He suddenly stopped laughing and violently pushed Hana to the ground.

My eyes opened wide from the shock. I was about to check on Hana to be sure she wasn't hurt but Jinyoung grabbed my wrist and pulled me in his chest.

"Why are you so angry? I will take good care of you!" he chuckled.

"Let me go!" I screamed against him, feeling the tears tingling my eyes.

I suddenly felt a strong arm around my waist which encircled me from behind.

"Holy shit." Hana gasped when she saw the handsome man who was protectively hugging me.

I had no need to look back, I already knew who it was. This touch and this warmness were simply unforgettable.

"If you don't let her go in the next five seconds, I'll blow your hands off." the voice behind me growled against Jinyoung.

The beating of my heart quickened. For the past two years I had dreamed about him every night and now, I was finally able to see him again.

"San!" I shouted happily, finally looking to the handsome boy. He smiled back atme but his expression became cold again as he stared at Jinyoung. My so-called husband finally let my wrist go and hardly swallowed his spit.

"Y-you! What are you doing here?" he asked with a shaking voice. I had no doubt about the fact that he knew who San was and that he probably knew him better than I did.

---------

Edit: Guys, I'm so surprised, I didn't think I would get so many likes for this series, I just uploaded it two days ago after all lol but I'm glad! The next chapter is already done but I'll wait a bit before uploading it, maybe next week? Anyways, thank you again!

Tag list:

@hijirikaww @pinkchampagne2

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murphyhatesme · 3 years

Text

Getting a new car leads to some life changing realisations .. After a talk with Chin Danny finally decides to take a chance on Steve.

Danny closes his eyes and presses his lips together before he answers Jack, from ballistics, “Yeah okay, I’ll get back to you with a budget okay?”

“Sure thing Danny, I’ve already given them an estimate on the parts so that should help.”

“Yes it should, thanks Jack. Hopefully we’ll talk soon.”

Just as he puts his phone down Steve walks into his office, “what was the verdict?”

“It’s totalled. Couldn’t be saved. I’m going to have to speak with the governor about a budget.”

“ Ah .”

Danny looks up at that, “What did you do?”

Steve takes a step back, pointing at himself “Me? Nothing?”

“ Steven. ”

Steve sighs, “Now, I need you to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Tell me!”

“A ah, promise me first.”

“Steven I swear to god ..”

“Fine! I was going to tell you at dinner tonight. I may have talked to Sam already and he agreed with my choice.”

“Your choice? Explain how this is your choice when it’s my car?”

“Danny, I always drive our car.”

“Excuse you, there is nothing ‘ our’ about the car. It’s mine!”

Steve waves his protests away and walks around the desk coming to stop besides Danny. He leans over and pulls the keyboard towards himself. Danny refuses to move aside and Steve is signing, letting him know he’s annoyed by Danny’s unwillingness to move aside. He knows he’s being petty but he’ll be damned if he lets Steve take over his office as well as his life.

“Will you just ..” Steve snaps before shoving the keyboard back “Ugh, fine! Have it your way you big baby.” he steps back and Danny smirks only to lose it when his chair is jerked back and he’s bodily lifted out of his seat.

Danny can feel his eyes widen as he’s sat down on Steve’s lap. “Excuse you?” Squirming he tries to stand up but Steve tuts at him and rolls the chair back up to the desk. Pulling the keyboard closer he logs out of Danny’s mail and into his own. “Steve, I’m sorry okay, can you let ..” He’s distracted by the beautiful, sleek black Camaro that appeared on screen. He bends forward and takes over the keyboard, he immediately opens google. He types in the dealer’s website, looking up the specs on the car Steve just showed him. “Did you really? And Sam agreed? You really ordered this one?”

Steve chuckles behind him, “Yes Danny, really. So I take it, you're fine with me picking our car?”

Danny nods and sits back, Steve’s hands wrap around his waist to keep him from sliding down and he’s suddenly aware of just where he’s sitting. His breath hitches and his stomach muscles quiver when a warm thumb caresses his hip bone, oh fuck. He bolts up and steps away from his desk, clearing his throat, “Right, so uh when is it arriving?”

Steve’s eyes are glittering with amusement when he answers “We can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Okay, so first thing in the morning?”

“Uhu, we have an appointment at nine.”

“Great! Now go, I have things to do.”

Steve smirks, “sure, things ..”

Danny can feel his face flush and he narrows his eyes, “What’s with the tone? Huh? You don’t believe I have things to do?”

“Oh no, I do believe that, but I wonder if you are ever going to own up to those things .”

Danny freezes, his first thought is that Steve knows! Followed by he knows and wants Danny to do something about it. He files it away and shoos Steve out of his office. More than a little freaked out he picks up his wallet and drags Chin out for an early lunch. Chin is a good soundboard and he’ll be honest.

After ordering he folds his hands and takes a deep breath, “So Steve ..” he pauses, not sure how to begin.

Chin sighs deeply, “So he finally told you huh?”

Danny sits up and he eyes Chin suspiciously, “What exactly do you think he told me?”

Chin rolls his eyes, “Danny, he feels the same way about you as you feel about him. He’s been waiting for you to act on it.”

“Well if he knew then he could have been the one to act on it.”

Chin raises his brow, “No, because you would have hidden behind a wall of insecurities and excuses.”

“And those still stand!”

“Then why are we here?”

“Because .. I rea .. No, I just ..” He sighs, “Maybe I freaked out a little bit.” Chin nods his head in sympathy and Danny bristles “Not because of the reasons you think! He’s my boss and I actually like him. If I act on it and it goes south then I ..”

Chin interrupts him, “You forget that he’s in the same boat, also are you really scared that things won’t work out? Because you and Steve are basically married already.”

“We are not!”

Chin holds up his hand “Couples counselling Danny.” he ticks off a finger, “You share a car.” He puts another finger down, “You live together and last but not least,” he ticks off another finger, “You have a date night every other week.”

Danny shakes his head, “No, nope. It’s my car. I stay in the guest room because I have mold. And we watch a game!”

Chin however is not impressed, “You two cuddle, Danny.”

“Ugh! Fine. it’s only because it’s easy with him okay!”

“Danny, why is it easy?”

“We’re best friends. I trust him.”

“I’m your best friend.”

“That’s different.”

“Brah ..” Chin lets out a long suffering sigh.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Danny .. Stop running, he loves you just as you are. He isn’t Rachel.”

Closing his eyes, Danny breathes out. “I know, okay. I know.”

Chin smiles at him, “Good talk. Should we take back lunch for Steve and Kono?”

“Fine, what does Kono normally like?”

“She likes spicy tuna.”

Danny orders a spicy tuna sandwich and a meat lover's one for Steve. When he gets back to the table Chin is smirking, “What?”

“You notice how you didn’t even think about what to get for Steve?”

“That logic is flawed because you knew what Kono liked.”

“Only because I take our lunch orders at least twice a week, what’s your excuse?”

Danny decides to ignore the knowing grin and focuses on the counter, waiting for their order to be called.

The next morning Danny is up early, he tries to enjoy his morning coffee but he’s too excited, or nervous. He’s getting a new car. He ignores the other reason for his nerves. Despite him waiting for it he still startles when the front door opens and Steve swans in. “Ready?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Come on, traffic is going to be a bitch.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you made an appointment on Saturday at nine.” But he still follows Steve out to the truck. He manages to slap the back of his partner's head when he hears Steve mutter ‘ bitch bitch bitch ’.

Steve is in the office with the dealer, taking care of the paperwork and Danny is standing in front of his car. The powerful, sleek, black muscle car is exactly what he’d have chosen for himself. Which also means that despite what he says Steve knows Danny through and through. He slowly walks around the car, fingers lightly tracing the shiny new paint. He slides into the driver's seat, lovingly caressing the steering wheel and smiling as he takes in the new car smell.

Steve comes out of the office, and the manager waves over one of the sales guys. Steve smiles when their eyes meet and Danny smiles back as he holds up his thumb. Steve gestures for him to get out before turning and shaking the manager’s hand. Danny gets out and Steve steps in close as the salesman, Gary, who followed Steve comes over to shake his hand. “You made the right decision with this car.”

“Yes, I believe we did. Do I have to sign anything?”

“No Sir, your husband took care of everything.” Danny opens his mouth to correct the assumption but Gary is talking again, “So here are the keys.” He hands the keys to Steve, “Congratulations on your buy.”

Danny plucks the keys out of Steve’s hand, “Thanks Gary.” He leaves Steve standing there as he slides back into the driver's seat. When Steve pulls the seatbelt over his chest Danny starts the car, “What about your truck?”

“Nahele is picking it up with Jerry later, driving lessons.”

Danny nods and turns smoothly onto the motorway, “I love my new car.”

“ Our car Danny.”

“Just because Gary back there thinks we are married doesn’t make it true.”

“So I feel like this car is a Goliath?” Steve says and Danny chokes.

“Excuse me?”

“No? Atlas then?”

“We are not naming this car Atlas.” Danny snaps

Steve grins. “It has a lot of horsepower, so maybe black beauty, BB for short?”

“No, this car has no name. It doesn’t need one. If we name it then we become attached and in our line of work that is not a good thing Steven.”

“So Zeus is out?”

“Oh my god. Stop it. Please for the sake of my sanity.”

Steve suddenly seems to notice they are driving out of town instead of home. “Huh? Where are we going?”

Danny grins but doesn’t say anything. He takes a right turn and smiles when he hears the quiet ah as Steve figures out where they are going.

When he parks the car, they get out and walk to the edge of the lookout. Danny takes Steve’s hand and presses the keys into his palm. “What are we doing here Danny?”

“I figured something out yesterday, and as you know this is where I go to start life changing decisions.”

“Life changing?” Steve’s tone is both hopeful and disbelieving and Danny suddenly knows he won’t regret what he’s about to confess. Instead of visions of failure he sees himself old and wrinkled on the beach behind their house, bickering about stupid things. For once he can see a happy future because he loves this man and he’s pretty sure Steve loves him in return.

He takes a deep breath, finally ready to say it and mean it. “Okay, I’m going to come out and just say it then. I love you.”

Steve tilts his head, “I love you too?”

“No, Steve, I’m in love with you.”

“Oh. Yes, I knew that.” Steve tells him before pulling him in and kissing him soundly on the lips.

Danny splutters, and pushes Steve away, “Don’t you have anything to say to that?”

“I’ve been saying it for ages Danny, I’m glad you finally caught up.” Steve states matter of factly and slowly leans back in, Danny shudders as their lips connect once again. Danny deepens it almost immediately and Steve groans as their tongues brush together for the first time. He loses himself in the kisses as the sun steadily rises and the traffic rushes past behind them.

When they break apart, both breathless Danny sweeps his thumb over Steve’s kiss swollen bottom lip, “How about we go home and find some things to do?”

Steve grins, “Yes please.” He gives Danny a quick, hard kiss before dragging him to the car.

Danny is laughing as he slides into the passenger's seat, “So eager.”

“Well if I had known that picking out a new car for us would have this result ..”

“A new car for me .” Danny feels the need to point out.

Steve scoffs, “We both know I’ll be the one to drive it five days out of the week.”

“I ..” and just like that it doesn’t matter, so he sighs and gives in. “Fair enough.”

Steve’s grin lights up his face and Danny knows he’ll spend the rest of life trying to keep that smile in place.

Fin

#mcdanno #get together #lizlybear #first kiss #fluff #So I hope you guys enjoyed it I realise they may come of as OOC but I tried my best. :)#On to the next prompt! Which will have smut again #I am still amazed by the fact that I posted two stories with an general audience rating. hahaha #*English is not my native language any and all mistakes are my own #also posted on AO3

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tippedbykreider · 3 years

Text

your love is my turning page | c. kreider

Word count: 17,700 Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, sex, mention of breakdown of previous relationship, mentions of infidelity. Author’s note: This was the first long-fic I ever wrote and to say that I was proud of it is an understatement. I’ve made some minor additions to this and hope you all enjoy it second time around as much as you did the first time. Fic title is from ‘Turning Page’ by Sleeping at Last Summary: Chris Kreider doesn’t believe in fate but a chance meeting in a Manhattan bookstore opens his mind, and his heart, to things he has only ever read about in the books he loves so much.

‘We are asleep until we fall in love’ – Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace.

Sometimes in life there are moments where everything changes, suddenly and unexpectedly and in ways that make it impossible to be the same person that you were before. It’s a bit like a storm, sweeping in and rearranging your life completely to a point beyond recognition, where everything changes and you’re left with a choice: mourn what was lost or use it as an opportunity to rebuild and come back stronger than before.

That was the dilemma Roseanna Williams faced after the man she thought she’d grow old with turned out to be nothing more than a huge disappointment. She should have seen it coming if she was to be completely honest with herself, years of waiting for him to outgrow what she presumed to be a teenage phase yielded nothing but frustration and a growing sense of impatience. If you asked any of her close friends and family they would tell you that she should have done it years ago but it never was as easy as just walking away, not when it came to the man whom she had been with since the tender age of fifteen. After she’d graduated university and completed her teaching degree, she was itching and ready for them both to take the next step in their relationship, to make more of a commitment, hell, even get married, but every attempt at an adult discussion about their future was met with resistance and a string of excuses. The realisation suddenly began to dawn on her that maybe he was a lost cause and that she was wasting the best years of her life by waiting on him to get his shit together. The final straw came when she’d come home early from a teaching conference and found him in bed with someone she had considered to be a friend. That was when the flood defences failed and all the water she’d been ignoring for so long came rushing in, destroying everything she thought she knew and leaving her shaken to the core and gasping for breath.

It started as a spark of an idea, moving away and getting a fresh start, London perhaps, or maybe somewhere further North. Exeter held too many memories now, the hurt and betrayal burying all of the wonderful times she’d had in the city that had always been her home. She’d discussed it at length with her parents who, while saddened at the prospect of their youngest daughter moving away, encouraged her to pursue whatever would make her the happiest. The spark caught, much like it always did whenever Rosie set her mind to something and before she knew it she was applying for a United States work visa and looking for places to live in New York City. All that was left to do was to pack up her life and trust in the magic of new beginnings.

That was how she ended up in Brooklyn, New York, teaching English Literature at a local high school. It was a different kind of life, one that took her a couple of years to get used to and while Rosie wasn’t quite confident enough yet to call herself a New Yorker, she definitely felt like she had found somewhere that she could call home. That feeling started as a seed, growing roots and leaves every time she would get off the subway at the right stop or find a new coffee shop to try until eventually she could rattle off her favourite places to get an Americano or the best places to get pizza. Her family and friends loved it, naturally, having the perfect reason to come and visit the Big Apple and Rosie loving nothing more than having the opportunity to show off the city she’d grown to adore.

Of course, there were parts of her old life that she missed. How could she not? She missed her family and her university friends. She missed afternoon teas with Devonshire clotted cream and summer days spent at the beach in Torquay. ‘You can always come home, love,’ her mother would say and that was completely true and while a part of her would always yearn for the smell of the sea or the cry of a gull on a soft summer breeze and while her roots were very much planted in Devonshire soil, her heart belonged to New York City.

She’d developed somewhat of a routine during the first couple of years that she’d lived in Brooklyn and it was one that hadn’t changed much, loving nothing more than taking the subway to Manhattan on weekends to spend the day checking out all the small independently run bookstores (when she wasn’t drowning in unmarked papers, of course). This particular late-October Saturday had started much like the others; she allowed herself a well-deserved lie-in after a hectic week of teaching and a bottle of Sangiovese the previous night, savouring her first cup of coffee like it was the first she’d had in months while she set about watering her house plants. A shower that lasted entirely too long, which doubled as a Fleetwood Mac tribute concert that she was sure her neighbours appreciated, was next on the agenda before she finally bundled herself up to face a chilly Autumn day in the city.

She’d stopped off at her favourite coffee shop on the way to the station and chatted with the young barista, Laura, behind the counter, whom she’d grown to know over the months since Laura had started working there. She’d learned that Laura was planning a trip to Europe next Summer and offered some suggestions of places in England to visit, making sure to get her to promise to not just visit London. With her take-out coffee cradled in her hands, the cup serving her well as a much needed hand-warmer, the late-morning had Rosie heading towards Westsider Books, a favourite haunt of hers that she couldn’t help but keep coming back to. She had no reason at all to think that going to that store was going to prove to be another one of those moments that she could look back on as being a defining moment in her story, but with a push of the door, every star and planet aligned that set her on a course that would change her life forever.

Christopher James Kreider was a self-confessed simple man, despite his career choice and the lifestyle that came with it seeming to be anything but. He was incredibly thankful for the certain level of anonymity that came with living in a place like New York; certainly, there were times where he would be recognised and would be stopped for a picture or autograph, but in the sea of a-list celebrities that called the city home, he was just a small fish and was happiest when he was flying under the radar. The kind of life afforded by being a professional athlete playing in the National Hockey League was one that he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. Sure, he had a sweeping Tribeca apartment that he called home, he had a nice car, he went to work wearing expensive suits and could afford to eat out in the city anywhere he wanted, but the reality of it all was that he was most at ease sprawled out on his couch with a good book and a bottle of wine.

His teammates affectionately called him the hockey Renaissance man, a nod to his impressive pursuits off the ice, but it was never a name that sat comfortably with him. As far as he was concerned, he was just Chris, there was nothing special about him and his ability to deflect praise or compliments was nothing short of reflexive. His days off during the season were few and far between and he was always keen to make the most of the time afforded to him. An early start and cup of coffee usually preceded a quick workout, followed by a shower, a second coffee and a crossword puzzle while he decided how he was going to spend his day. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to stay within the sanctuary of his apartment and read Hemingway until the sun began to dip below the skyline, other times he would venture out into the city and check out the new exhibit down at the art gallery in Soho before finding somewhere quiet to enjoy a good cup of coffee.

The season had gotten off to a decent enough start, the chemistry between the team seeming to grow with each game and Chris hitting his stride early on. He’d just returned from a three game trip in Canada and despite the slight fatigue he was feeling, he was eager to get out into the city. He wasn’t in the market for anything in particular but there was a lot of joy to be found in rummaging through old record shops or second hand book stores, at least in Chris’s opinion anyway. There was something so special about a pre-loved record or book, he thought, each had their own tale to tell and each held a special place in someone’s heart at one point or another. There were barely any new editions of books on his bookshelves, some so tatty and worn that their bindings were stringy and the pages threatened to abscond if held the wrong way.

Chris was a creature of habit and it was something that he would freely admit. He often visited the stores closest to home, not often venturing further than Midtown, but with nothing but time he found himself on the 1 train and headed towards Upper West Side, Westsider Books his destination of choice. The first thing he noticed upon entering wasn’t the towering shelves that stacked books upon books but the unmistakable scent of vellichor, that grassy, almost vanilla aroma that felt a lot like coming home. The owner offered a friendly smile before nodding towards the vast collection of books.

“There’s fiction all down here, poetry’s at the back and non-fiction’s upstairs. Let me know if there’s something in particular you’re lookin’ for, I know there’s a lotta books in here.”

“Thank you,” Chris replied. “Do you have any Russian literature in at all?”

“We sure do, whatever we’ve got is on the third shelf from the back there, on your left.”

“Perfect, thanks a lot for your help.”

Chris offered the man behind the counter a smile and headed deeper into the shop, stopping in front of an impressive looking collection of Russian classics. It was easy to get lost in the volumes on the shelves, flicking through pages of different editions, some of them older than he’d ever seen before. There was one book in particular though that caught his eye, unassuming and inconspicuous enough, nestled between War and Peace and the Death of Ivan Ilyich. He reached out to touch the navy blue leather but was suddenly caught off-guard by the sensation of cold fingers knocking against his own.

“God, I’m so sorry, I was completely in my own world there.”

His eyes flicked to his right towards the source of the voice, soft and feminine with an accent that he knew not to be local. Rosie hadn’t even noticed him, which now that she was taking in his appearance properly didn’t exactly understand how she’d missed him standing beside her. He was well over six foot, she noted, and impossibly broad, but the thing that stood out to her the most about him was the unmistakable kindness in his hazel eyes, a tranquil grove of moss covered trees with their different shades of bark.

“No, no, you’re good. It’s me, big clumsy oaf over here,” he trailed off with a soft laugh, a slight heat rising in his cheeks now that he was really seeing her, with her eyes that were as blue as a summer sky and hair that reflected the colour of the autumn leaves outside.

“Did you want Anna Karenina?” Rosie asked, nodding towards the shelves.

“Oh, um, it’s okay, you go for it,” he smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that gave him a kind of softness, a familiarity almost.

“Please, I insist,” Rosie reached for the book and took it from its resting place amongst the other Tolstoy works, handing it to Chris. “I already have three different editions of this, if I took home a fourth I think an intervention would need to be staged.”

Rosie grinned as Chris laughed, the sound full and rich to her ears, while he took the book from her hands and tucked it under his arm.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He started, his eyes flitting across her features before they settled to meet her gaze. Her grin had faded into a warm smile that reached all the way up to her eyes and she was surveying him with an almost curiosity, one that he found himself matching. “I’m sorry, I know you probably get asked this all the time,” he continued, with an endearing kind of sheepishness that kept the corners of Rosie’s mouth lifted upwards, “but I gotta ask about the accent. I wanna say British but I don’t want to come across like a stereotypically ignorant American if I’m wrong.”

“Oh it’s okay,” Rosie chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “you’re only the third person to ask me today.”

Chris could tell from the sparkle in her eye and the smirk on her lips that she meant no malice in her reply and made an exaggerated cringing grimace in return.

“God, I know. I’m sorry. You must get sick of it.”

“I mean, if I had a dollar for every time someone asked I’d be a very rich lady, but yeah, your ears don’t deceive you, I’m British. Actually from Exeter in Devon specifically, which is like South West England and now I realise that that probably means nothing to you,” she laughed as she caught the slightly vacant expression that had graced his features while she had been explaining her place of birth.

“I know, I’m sorry. I guess I really am a stereotypical ignorant American.”

Rosie responded with a gentle shake of her head as she spoke, “Nah, I wouldn’t say so. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about the rest of the States, it took me longer than I care to admit to just not get lost going two or three blocks down.”

Chris smiled, both at her kindness and the gentle lilt of her accent. “So are you here visiting, or?”

Rosie shook her head again, the auburn waves shaking and falling about her face in a way that had Chris’s smile doubling.

“Well, I’m visiting Manhattan, but I live in the city, been here coming up five years now.”

“Yeah? And you like it?”

Rosie’s smile sparked at the corner of her mouth until it spread like wildfire and lit up the whole of her face. Chris couldn’t help but notice how beautiful it made her look, that kind of smile that was so undeniably authentic and genuine and yet so incredibly rare in a city as big as New York; but there it was, right in front of him and warm like sunshine.

“I love it here,” the affection in her voice clear as day. “It’s so different from anything back home and in the best possible way.”

Chris got the impression from her seemingly deliberate choice of words that there was a story there, but the classic literature aisle didn’t really seem like the time and place to get into it with someone he’d just met, nor did he want to assume that she would even offer that tale to him freely. Instead, he took the book out from under his arm and held it out to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take this home with you?”

“I’m positive. ‘Live in the needs of the day’ as Tolstoy would say and I don’t really need that book. I’m sure you’ll give it a wonderful home.”

She met his eyes briefly, her stomach flip-flopping at the softness she found there, and gave him a warm smile that matched the one he was wearing. Chris wasn’t sure what had made him feel so bold. Perhaps it was the feeling of being so completely at ease with her, despite not even knowing her name and despite having known her for a mere five minutes, or perhaps it was the gentleness in her eyes. He didn’t spend too much of his time thinking about it as the words were out of his mouth before he could second guess them.

“At least let me buy you a coffee as a thank you.”

“Do you buy all the women you meet in bookshops coffee?” Rosie quipped without missing a beat.

“Damn, you caught me.”

Rosie laughed, easy and free with her head tipped back and Chris knew in that moment that he needed this woman in his life in some way, the sound bright and rich like the first sip of coffee in the morning or the first rays of summer sunshine filtering through curtains. He was still surveying her with an easy grin as she shuffled on her feet slightly, deciding whether she was going to let her head or her heart reign supreme today.

“I don’t usually make a habit of getting coffee with strangers,” the small smile still playing on her lips despite the tentative nature of her words.

Chris instinctively offered his hand out for her to shake.

“Well, I’m Christopher and you are?”

Rosie placed her hand in his, the smile on her face doubling in size at his kindness as she shook his hand, and tried to ignore the way her heart started to race at how warm and easy his touch felt.

“Rosie, or Roseanna if we’re using our Sunday names.”

“Nice to meet you, Rosie,” Chris said, his tone gentler than was probably necessary in the moment but it had Rosie feeling more relaxed in his presence by the second. “See, we’re not strangers anymore.”

“No, I don’t suppose we are. Alright then, Christopher, I accept your proposal of coffee and if you turn out to be an axe murderer then I hope you enjoy the book.”

It wasn’t very often that Rosie let curiosity get the better of her but there was something telling her to surrender to this moment in front of her, to let her heart win for once and throw caution to the wind. There was something about Chris and his aura that made it incredibly easy to ignore that prudent and wary voice in the back of her head that would usually call for rational and cautious thinking in situations such as this one, the voice that is often nurtured during childhood by parents and adults alike to help keep you safe from harm, the voice that would warn you about the dangers of strangers. Chris was a stranger, this was, of course, an undisputed fact, but Rosie didn’t feel like she was in any danger with this man. She guessed that it had an awful lot to do with the genuine warmth that seemed to radiate from him that made her feel less like she was with a someone she’d just met in a book shop and more like she was catching up with an old friend. It was incredibly rare that she felt so at ease with someone, let alone a man she knew nothing about except for his name, but she’d grow to learn that that was just the magic of Chris, his sincerity and kindness always radiating from him like the glow of an open fire on a cold winter’s night.

“I can say with absolute certainty that I’m not an axe murderer,” he grinned. “But if it would make you feel better I was planning on taking you to Irving Farm, y’know, so you can check in with someone if you wanted.”

That simple gesture alone told Rosie all she needed to know about Chris, the fact he was so cognizant of how a woman might be feeling going to get coffee with a man she’d just met. It was that thoughtfulness and that tingle of curiosity and wonder that had her following him to the counter and waiting as he paid for his book before they both ventured back out into the chilly air and towards the café. Making small talk on the short walk there was incredibly easy, the effortless nature of their conversation not lost on either of them and as they sat down opposite each other in a quiet corner of the shop, shedding their coats and scarves, Chris took the opportunity to really appreciate the beauty of the woman in front of him.

She was classically pretty, he thought, with her auburn locks freed from the confines of the scarf she had been wearing and the slight ruddiness to her cheeks from the way the cold air had kissed them during their short walk. But more than that, it was the way her presence seemed to uplift him in a way he hadn’t ever experienced before. Chris was an incredibly practical and logical man and the idea of kindred spirits wasn’t something that he subscribed to, but there was just something about Rosie. It was a sense of familiarity and a feeling often only felt between two people who had known each other for years. It was a feeling that, unbeknownst to him, Rosie shared too, not quite being able to remember a time where she was able to enthusiastically discuss literature at such great lengths with someone.

“So come on,” Chris said over his cup of coffee after they’d settled at a table in a quiet corner of the café. “You were able to quote Anna Karenina from memory, is there a particular reason for that or have I managed to find an even bigger book nerd than I am?”

Rosie smirked as she took a sip from her cup, eyes sparkling as she surveyed Chris. “I am a pretty big book nerd, but no, I actually teach literature.”

Chris’s eyebrows raised as an impressed little smirk pulled the corner of his lips upwards. He set his cup down and clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

“Forgive me for being bold here and by all means tell me to mind my own damn business, but what exactly makes a British literature teacher cross an ocean and put roots down in New York City?”

Rosie paused for a moment, chewing over her words in her mind.

“A vague sense of wanderlust, I guess,” she began carefully. “I don’t know, there was just… a lot of stuff that happened in my life and it felt like a good time for a fresh start while I was still young enough and brave enough to do it.”

“I’m sorry if that was too personal,” Chris looked at her apologetically, the slight flicker of sadness that had appeared in her eyes too prominent to ignore. “I didn’t mean to bring any painful memories back for you by prying.”

“It’s absolutely fine. All the diversity, all the charm and all the beauty of life are made up of light and shade, right?”

“You really love that book, don’t you?” Chris asked her softly, recognising the quote from the book currently sitting in the brown paper bag by his feet immediately, and with a gleam in his eye.

“It’s one of my favourites,” Rosie replied. “It’s probably up there with Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, Pride and Prejudice and For Whom the Bell Tolls.”

“You like Hemingway?” Chris’s eyes crinkled with his grin and shone with excitement as she nodded in agreement. “I love Hemingway,” he added. “He’s easily my favourite author.”

Rosie leaned forward in her seat and rested her arms on the table with her cup still cradled in her hands, Chris mirroring her action, like two school children about to share a secret.

“I love the beautiful simplicity of his writing. It’s direct but without losing any of the emotion or feeling. Like, don’t get me wrong, Russian literature and authors like Tolkien are wonderful and they certainly have their part to play, but sometimes there’s just no need for pages and pages just to get a point across. That’s the beauty of Hemingway, the straightforwardness of it.”

“Yes!” Chris exclaimed, his face lighting up. “That’s exactly it. Take The Old Man and the Sea as an example, that book is what? Twenty-seven thousand words? But the feeling and the message that he’s able to get across, it’s amazing. God, I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve read that book.”

“A favourite of yours, then?”

Chris nodded as he picked up his mug. “Without a doubt, followed closely by For Whom the Bell Tolls and An Immovable Feast.”

He punctuated his statement with a wink and a smile, savouring the way Rosie’s face would ignite with pure joy as she laughed.

“Perhaps we should compare notes,” she mused behind her coffee.

“Is that you saying you wanna meet up again?” Chris asked, a cocky grin on his face.

“What if it is?” She countered quickly, a twinkle in her eye that had Chris’s heart thundering in his chest.

“Then I think you’d better take my number.”

The weeks passed and autumn collapsed into winter, the first frosts clinging to everything and covering the city in opaline glitter. Rosie’s schedule had begun to slow following the initial insanity of the beginning of the academic year as things started to wind down for the holidays. She’d spent a lot of her free time preparing for her annual trip home to England to spend Christmas with her family, something that she looked forward to all year. Whatever time was left was spent reading or catching up with Chris, who had been equally busy with his work as a professional hockey player. He’d mentioned this to her briefly and in passing during their phone calls, which certainly explained why his schedule was often so all over the place, but the concept was so alien to Rosie that she didn’t feel the need to pry further. Growing up in Devon meant that her exposure to a sport like ice hockey was next to nothing, her knowledge extending as far as movies such as The Mighty Ducks would afford. In fact, when she thought about it, she didn’t know anybody who played sports professionally in any capacity and so while she was intrigued by Chris and the story behind how he came to be in such a career in a city like New York (knowing him to be from Massachusetts originally), she also knew that he was so much more than all of the stereotypes she’d heard associated with professional athletes.

He wasn’t a big, dumb jock, far from it actually. Chris was incredibly intelligent, philosophical in ways she admired so much but with an endearing and quick sense of humour. His thirst for knowledge and appreciation for the world around him was unlike any she’d ever seen and it somehow made him more handsome than any of his classically good-looking physical features. There was an intrigue, of course, surrounding him and his job, but Rosie also knew that he would offer that part of himself to her in time and when he felt most comfortable doing so. She imagined that he didn’t always get to have the luxury of authentic meetings with people who didn’t already know about him and his job, and for all the lovely moments he’d already given her in their growing friendship, she wanted to pay him back in kind by not forcing anything on him that he wasn’t yet ready to talk about.

It was incredible really, how easy it was for her to fall into friendship with Chris, made only easier with each discovery of a new shared interest. Their texts would often consist of them sending things the other might find interesting such as a new book or a new song to listen to. Hearing from him was something that she found herself looking forward to, especially appreciating when he would take time out of his day while he was away from home to check in with her and catch up.

As the end of the semester creeped closer, Rosie found herself surrounded by gifts she had already wrapped ahead of her trip home and a small pile of clothes, the open suitcase on the bed still empty despite her best intentions. She always found packing incredibly dull (although admittedly not as bad as unpacking once she returned to New York) and would often preoccupy herself with anything and everything to avoid doing it, which always resulted in a stressful last-minute packing situation that she was keen to avoid this year. She stood with her hands on her hips as she surveyed the situation in front of her, deciding the best way in which to go about organising her suitcase, when her phone vibrated against her dressing table. Unable to contain the flicker of a smile that tugged at her mouth as she saw the Caller ID flash with Chris’s name, she answered.

“Hey, you.”

She could hear what sounded like a group of very rowdy men in the background in what she could only assume was a bar.

“I need you to help settle a debate.”

Rosie smiled as she cradled her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, using her free hands to pick up a pair of jeans and place them into the suitcase.

“Sounds serious.”

“Oh it is and we’re at a deadlock over here so your opinion decides it, I hope you can handle that kind of pressure,” Chris teased.

“Oh, Christopher, I was born ready.”

“Alright, but this is like legit serious stuff.”

“Out with it, Chris,” Rosie laughed.

“Crunchy or smooth?”

“Excuse me?” Rosie asked with an incredulous look on her face that she knew Chris would’ve laughed at had he been able to see her.

“Peanut butter,” he clarified. “Crunchy or smooth?”

“Wow,” Rosie deadpanned. “And here I was thinking you were about to ask me something incredibly philosophical.”

“Oh come on, Ro, don’t leave me hanging here.”

“I suppose if I had to choose, I’d probably go with smooth.”

“Ha!” Chris exclaimed, causing Rosie to jump. “She said smooth, looks like you’re the one with the weird peanut butter preferences, Foxy.”

Rosie furrowed her brow at the incoherent shouting and cheering in the background as she put more clothes into her suitcase.

“I’m so confused right now.”

She listened as the sound of raucous chatter faded into a faint buzz and Chris’s voice came back through the speaker clearer yet softer than it had been before.

“Sorry about that, the guys can get a little excitable sometimes.”

“Rookies had too many beers?”

“Yeah,” Chris breathed. “Something like that. How’re you doin’ anyway? Things settled for you at work?”

“Yeah,” she replied softly, perching herself on the edge of her bed, careful not to knock any of the small wrapped packages onto the floor. “I got all of those papers turned round and the results were actually kind of encouraging, which was nice.”

“That’s probably because they’ve got a good teacher.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Rosie blushed, thankful that he couldn’t see the interesting shade of pink her face had turned.

Chris’s reply was unexpected, somehow managing to knock her back a bit with the sincerity and softness in his tone that seemed more intimate than perhaps their current level of friendship afforded.

“I mean it, Ro. I know you know your stuff. They’re lucky to have someone like you teaching them.”

His words hung in the air around Rosie for a few seconds while she processed them, or rather, while she started to analyse the tenderness in his tone that she was sure she hadn’t imagined. He didn’t give her too long to get lost in it though as he was speaking again before she had a chance to truly unpack her thoughts.

“So things have settled down for you, yeah?”

“Um, yeah.. Yeah. I’ve just been packing for my trip back home,” Rosie replied, picking up one of the small gift-wrapped boxes and examining it for no particular reason.

“Right, of course. When is it you fly?”

“December twenty-first, fly back into JFK on the fourth of January.”

“I’ll be in California when you get back,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “But it’d be great to see you before you go to England. Maybe dinner or coffee?”

“That would be really nice, Chris,” the smile evident in her voice to Chris even through the phone.

“Great, we’ll arrange something once I’m back in the city at the end of the week.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Chris hesitated, not quite ready to say goodbye but knowing that he should probably get back to the others and leave Rosie to the rest of her evening. He knew he had to though, even if it did make his chest ache for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

“I’ll let you get on with your packing,” he half-sighed.

“Please don’t feel like you need to,” Rosie replied with the faintest hint of a plea.

“I do because if I don’t you’ll never finish packing your suitcase.”

There it was, that easy teasing that had become a defining feature of their friendship in just the few weeks they’d known each other and had managed to shift the atmosphere between them from something that neither could quite put their finger on to one that was much more playful and familiar.

Rosie groaned exaggeratedly, earning her a hearty chuckle from Chris.

“But I hate packing,” she whined.

“Welcome to being an adult, suck it up, Buttercup.”

“You’re mean.”

Despite her words, Chris knew that there was no truth in them and he also knew that she herself didn’t believe them, which made the playful back-and-forth banter between the two of them come easily.

“No, I’m Chris.”

“Oh my god!” Rosie laughed, exasperated. “I’m hanging up now, goodbye!”

Chris’s rich chuckle was the last thing she heard before she ended the call and tossed her phone onto her pillows, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of his humour before turning her attention back to the pile of clothes by her suitcase.

Christmas went as quickly as it came, passing in such a blur that it had Rosie questioning if she’d had any time off at all. It didn’t take her long to settle back into the groove of things though, it never did, and by the time the frosts of winter began to thaw, the warm glow of the festive season was nothing more than a cheerful memory. Much like the first beautiful petals of spring, Chris and Rosie’s friendship continued to blossom.

Rosie would have been lying if she said that she didn’t wish their schedules would match up more. A particularly busy January for Chris meant that they hadn’t had chance to meet since just before Christmas and it had Rosie wondering just what exactly Chris’s job entailed. It wasn’t really something that had come up during their phone calls and it was something that she felt deserved to be done face-to-face rather than over a text message, because truth be told, she didn’t have the first idea when it came to ice hockey. Keen to know more about the man that was fast becoming somebody she considered to be a close friend, she resolved to ask him the next time they met for coffee.

“So are you ever going to tell me about this big, shiny career of yours or am I supposed to just keep thinking you’re some James Bond of professional hockey,” she mused as she broke off a piece of blueberry muffin and popped it into her mouth.

Chris blushed slightly as he took a drawn out sip of coffee.

“I mean, yeah, sure. What do you wanna know?”

He set his cup down and clasped his hands on the table in front of him, the flicker of nervousness extinguished quickly by the kindness that rested within her eyes.

“Well,” she started. “I believe I’ve mentioned before that the only hockey I knew of before meeting you was the field hockey they made us play at secondary school. So, everything I guess? Oh, and I’m going to need you to explain like I’m five.”

Chris couldn’t help but chuckle at the good-natured smirk on her face and ran a hand along the stubble at his jaw.

“Alright, well. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to start from the top. I played hockey in high school, then went to Boston College, they have a really good collegiate hockey programme there and it’s a good school to boot. I got drafted in 2009 by the New York Rangers then I signed my first contract with them in 2012, been here ever since.”

“So you must be bloody good at hockey then,” Rosie said after swallowing her coffee which made the pink tinge to Chris’s cheeks even more prominent.

“I mean, I’m not terrible.”

Rosie grinned at him and at his humility which she had come to know as being one of Chris’s prominent traits. “And your schedule? I know it’s a bit mental but what does an average day look like for you?”

“That depends,” Chris replied. “Are we talking an off-day? Game day? Away trip?”

“All of the above?” Rosie laughed.

“My days off I still like to get a work-out in, even if it’s just a small one. But other than that? I don’t know, maybe meet incredible women from Devon in bookshops?”

It was Rosie’s turn to have her cheeks flush, especially with the way Chris was looking at her with an unreadable look in his eyes. Chris continued though, despite the thundering in his chest at how beautiful she looked in that moment.

“Game days I’ll usually get up, go to practice. I try and take a nap in the afternoon before I have to go down to the Garden to get ready for the game and it’s much the same if I’m away on the road. We usually practice before we travel to wherever it is we’re headed.”

“That sounds incredibly full-on.”

“It is,” Chris agreed. “But it really makes you appreciate the time at home and the moments of stillness. Why’d you think I love getting lost in a good book so much?”

“Because, in the words of Dr Seuss, ‘the more you read, the more things you’ll know. The more you learn, the more places you’ll go.’”

Chris looked at her softly, a warm smile on his face. “Spoken like a true teacher.”

“So come on then,” she blushed, steering the conversation away from herself and back to him. “You went to Boston College, right? What did you end up studying?”

“Communications,” Chris said as he finished taking a sip of coffee. “I uh, it was really important to my mom for me to finish my degree so I kept plugging away at it even after I went pro.”

“Wow,” Rosie looked at him, clearly impressed. “That’s incredible, Chris. I mean, getting a degree is a hard enough slog when you’re doing it full time, but to do it while you’re travelling here there and everywhere? That’s no easy feat.”

It was Chris’s turn to blush now, too humble and too modest to be able to accept the praise Rosie was giving him.

“I knew how much it meant to my mom and I just wanted to make her happy, that and I was too stubborn to not finish something I’d started.”

“Your birthday is the end of April, right?” She said rather suddenly but as if something had clicked in the back of her mind.

“Yeah, April 30th. Why? You been googling me?”

“Oh it’s nothing really,” she said quickly, face flushing and suddenly aware of how stupid it would sound to him if she actually said it out loud. “And for the record, I haven’t googled you, I just remembered you mentioning your birthday last time we met up.”

“Nah, you can’t just do that,” he chuckled softly. “Come on, what were you gonna say?”

“Well,” she started, her fingers and eyes finding the coffee cup in front of her, anything to avoid the part where he looked at her like she was mad. “I was just gonna say that you really are a typical Taurus.”

Chris leaned forward in his seat, hands settling just shy of hers but the almost contact enough to make her skin spark.

“That so?” he mused. “You big into your astrology?”

“No, well yes, sort of,” she rushed and Chris could tell that she was almost ashamed of the admission. “I don’t read magazine horoscopes or anything like that because they really are a load of bollocks. But natal charts and stuff like that? I find them totally fascinating. I um, I’m kind of into crystal healing, I sage my apartment, I know it’s nuts.”

“No it’s not,” Chris took her hand then, the need to reassure her and ground her in a moment where she felt vulnerable and exposed. “Is it something that I believe in personally? No, not really. But truthfully I don’t know anything about it either. If it makes you happy then it really doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Maybe you could tell me more about it over dinner or something?”

Rosie looked at him thoughtfully, so appreciative of him in that moment and that ineffable gift of his to make her feel valued and listened to. It was that and all the other wonderful little facets of himself that he was showing her that had her agreeing to his proposal of dinner. She thought about the level of bravery that it must have taken for him to talk about that other side of his life, the side that she knew nothing about, no matter how small or trifling it might have seemed to anyone else. While she might not have had the first clue when it came to the sport or could even truly comprehend what Chris’s life was like, she understood that it must be incredibly difficult for somebody in his situation to forge true and meaningful relationships with people, friendly or otherwise, because when it feels like someone you have just met thinks they already know everything about you, it’s incredibly hard to let the guard come down and let people get close. That is what Chris appreciated the most about Rosie, though, the fact that she hadn’t the faintest idea who number 20 of the New York Rangers was. Every conversation they’d ever shared and every question she’d ever asked came from a genuine and altruistic desire to get to know him better. Even now, as she encouraged him to share that other part of him, that so many others defined him by, it came only from a place of pure and innocent curiosity. She asked about his job much in the same way she would ask an accountant or doctor about theirs.

Being able to have that conversation with her about his life and his job only served to strengthen the bond that they shared and he was incredibly thankful for Rosie’s understanding and willingness to fit her schedule and life around his. As the months passed and summer fast approached, Chris found himself for the first time reluctant to escape the stifling heat of the city after the season had ended. He was enjoying being able to spend more time with Rosie now that the school year had come to a close and he was shocked to learn that even after living in the city for close to six years at that point, she still hadn’t explored all of Manhattan. Their days were filled with walks around the West Village, Midtown or Tribeca and having lunches at tiny hole-in-the wall cafés where they would show each other the books they had picked up in whatever shop they’d found themselves in that morning.

It was that time shared together that made it incredibly easy for Rosie to become a stable fixture in Chris’s life with evenings spent at each other’s apartments having dinner and sharing wine. Rosie had learned quickly that Chris was a capable cook and Chris loved nothing more than when Rosie would cook pasta for him, even if it wasn’t exactly his nutritionist’s dream. It was easy to relax in that kind of way around her, forgetting the strict food regime every once in a while to really savour the beef ragu she made that he loved so much, always washed down with a couple of bottles of Sangiovese shared between them and finished with a homemade tiramisu. It was wholesome, much like she was with the softness of her curves and her insouciant attitude when it came to her looks. That was not to say that she didn’t make an effort, that wasn’t the case at all, for she would always look so put together and incredibly beautiful whenever Chris would see her, but she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t think twice about letting herself indulge in a slice of cake with her coffee or get too hung up on the calorie content of a pasta carbonara, which was a quality that Chris found to be both incredibly refreshing and endearing.

The natural quality of their relationship should have made it incredibly easy for Rosie to give in to those feelings she found beginning to settle in her chest. Chris was a wonderful man, that much was undeniably true and it should have been simple to confront the ache she felt whenever he went away. But if there was one thing Rosie had learned in her life, it was that if you expect too much, if you put people on pedestals that were too high, you would find yourself being disappointed. That was a simple fact of life. People were just that, people, capable of making mistakes. They were not divine beings, no matter how much we saw them as such through our own eyes. It was that idea alone that startled her; that a man such as Chris could be capable of disappointing her by the pure reasoning of the human condition and that was a thought that she couldn’t bear. So she pushed it down, down and down until it was quieter than a whisper. But even whispers can’t be ignored forever, and so with each comment from Chris’s friends about how happy he was since meeting her or each time her skin would spark at the feeling of his hand on the small of her back, the whisper grew, growing and growing with every team event she attended on his arm or every party he asked her along to, until it was a shout.

Relationships had never been something to come easy to Chris, he was too careful and too private; the gnawing feeling in his stomach that told him there was always some ulterior motive was often too arresting to ignore. It should have frightened him, the way Rosie came into his life and smashed through every wall he’d ever built without even doing much at all, but it didn’t. Rather than look at all the bricks and the rubble and be unnerved by the ease in which she was able to coax his vulnerability out of him, he found himself inspired, determined even, to build something truly beautiful with her. Chris knew that he would have to find a way to navigate these feelings with her, cognizant of the need to not throw her into the deep end and shock her system. Rosie deserved better than that because this wasn’t just about him and his feelings, it was about them and their relationship, what it was now and what it could be.

She was brilliant, in every way a person could be, beautiful and with a passion that glowed like the fiery tresses of her hair under a New York sunset. She was bold and sharp as a tack, keeping him on his toes in a way that no one else had ever been able to and he was sure that no one else would ever again. It was late night conversations where they were three bottles of wine deep talking about philosophy and ethics or her reading silently while he played guitar, it was listening to Pearl Jam with her whenever she cooked or Billy Joel when they were curled up together on the sofa, debating whether Radiohead or Nirvana was more influential in the grunge music scene. Hell, it was even looking up his birth chart, even though he didn’t believe in astrology, because there was just something about the way she said ‘You’re such a typical Sagittarius moon.’ Her warmth and her kindness always managed to ground him in moments where he would feel himself slipping, as sure as the moon rises and sets each night, especially once the season had restarted and those niggling insecurities would rear up and settle heavily in his chest, and yet he could tell that she never really knew the exact power that she held. She had his heart completely, whether she was aware of it or not and that was something that Chris hoped would never change. She’d slotted into his life like she had always belonged there, like she had always been there and that feeling only seemed to grow inside of Chris with every dinner they shared with his friends and every time he would see her face in the stands of MSG.

The week before Christmas brought an uncharacteristically early winter storm to New York unlike any Chris had ever seen throughout his whole time living there, forcing the city to a standstill and grounding flights, which meant that for the first time since moving to the States, Rosie wasn’t going to be home for Christmas. The idea of her spending the holiday alone in her apartment made Chris’s heart ache and so that was how Rosie ended up in his Tribeca apartment on Christmas Eve, bundled up with him on the sofa under a blanket, each with a mug of homemade mulled wine. The Muppet’s A Christmas Carol played quietly through the tv, one of Rosie’s Christmas Eve traditions that he would never dream of denying her, although, no matter what he would later admit to, he spent more time observing the gentle expression on her face as she got lost in the nostalgia of it all than he did actually paying attention to the screen. She felt him though, not even needing to take her eyes off the movie to know that he was watching her.

“You’re missing all the good bits,” she smirked.

“It’s okay, I’ve read the book. I know what happens.”

There was a slight grit to his tone that Rosie couldn’t quite place but crawled under her skin and kindled a small flame in her stomach all the same.

“But there were no Muppets in the book.” She turned to face him then and took in the expression within his eyes, darker than she’d ever seen them before. “Kermit really brings Dickens’ story to life.”

“I mean, Beaker steals it for me but we’ll agree to disagree.”

The air thickened around them and Rosie took a long sip of her wine, longer than perhaps she should have, but she needed to swallow away the tightness in her throat from the way Chris was looking at her. Like planets to a sun, Rosie found herself drawn to him, suddenly feeling him everywhere despite the fact they were at opposite ends of his couch. It was that gravity that had her shuffling towards him, crawling into his space in the same way she had crawled into his heart. He was warm, she thought, comfortingly so and the worn hoody on his body felt soft and had the familiar, soothing scent that was so uniquely Chris. Perhaps that is what had her curling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder and perhaps that new-found closeness was what had him pressing his lips into her hair.

There was no way either of them could deny what this was between them, the spark too bright to ignore. Rosie knew that they weren’t just friends, she knew that and she knew that Chris felt it too, that was why his face was turned towards hers, his lips impossibly close so that all she needed to do was tilt her head and give in to what her heart was crying out for. But her head was a cruel mistress indeed and it was that irrational but crippling fear of eventual disappointment that made her clear her throat and scoot back a shade, giving herself some much needed breathing room.

Chris exhaled quietly, the deflation leaving him on the breath. It was almost frustrating how close they were, the finish line within touching distance and yet they always seemed to stop short of it. Chris was there, he was there waiting and willing her to take those last few steps and cross it with him but he knew that he couldn’t force this, nor did he want to either. She had to want it for herself and Chris knew, as he looked at her sitting there chewing on her bottom lip with her brows knitted together in pensive thought, that she was worth the wait, even if it took a lifetime.

The post-holiday back to work rush was one that was felt universally. Those first few weeks always seemed to feel as though there was never enough hours in the day to get everything done and it was no different for Chris and Rosie, both caught up in their jobs to really sit and digest the moment between them at Christmas. Christmas Day had been incredibly busy with Chris hosting a couple of the younger players for dinner and no sooner had the festivities ended he was packing a bag ready to depart for Washington the following morning. They both knew that they had a lot of things to discuss, because that’s what adults did, they talked about their feelings in a healthy and open way, but as the busy-ness of their schedules ramped up, the hours slipped away and turned into days. Days spanned into weeks and weeks turned into months and before either of them knew it, the moment seemed so distant in the rear-view mirror, that it almost felt weird to bring it back up.

The hockey season ended for Chris some time during May, the Rangers making it as far as the second round of the playoffs but unable to close it out after seven hard fought games. The disappointment sat heavy in his chest, much like it always did after losses like these, but he would have been a fool not to notice the way that it didn’t hang all about him in the way it had previous years. Of course, the wound still cut deep but without the festering ache of poison and he knew the antidote was the woman who had swept into his life nearly two years prior.

It was remarkable really, how she came into his world like that. It was an event that Chris had always described as being purely serendipitous but the longer he spent with Rosie, the more he began to wonder if there was something else at play, hell, even fate perhaps. He had prided himself on being a shrewd man, his practicality something that had always defined him and guided his thoughts and actions, but whenever he thought about them and their relationship, he had to believe that it was more than just some happy accident. Rosie was pure magic, in every sense of the word, always having an uncanny ability to know what he needed before he even did and making him relax in ways he had never previously allowed himself to. It was cliché to say, but Chris genuinely believed that he had never lived until he met her and slowly, over the course of the last year, maybe even longer, the love songs on the radio made a little bit more sense and every love story he’d ever read sat a little bit differently in his heart. He knew that he was going to have to find a way to truly make her his, because despite all of the times where he felt like he could’ve just grabbed her face and kissed her, despite all of the unspoken feelings that had surfaced at Christmas, and despite the fact that they hadn’t yet managed to talk about them, the dynamic between them both after their almost kiss hadn’t changed at all except in the small way that he found himself having to stop himself from holding her in the way that he wanted to more often than not.

He thought about the one night she’d almost burst with excitement over their dinner at her apartment when he told her he had finally sat down and read Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, remembering the wind-scattered waves in her eyes and so sure that if anyone was brave enough to enter their depths, all else would blur and they would fall so deeply in love that they’d choose to stay there, no matter what, because he knew for certain that he had befallen that very fate. He recalled thinking that if that was the last thing he was to ever see, he would surely die a happy man. She had recited her favourite quote to him that he thought to be beautiful at the time but now hitting him like a freight train and knocking all of the wind out of his sails. It crawled through his skin and into his veins until he felt it coursing through his body until it had made a home within his very soul:

‘Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body… for that is just being in love, which any of us can convince ourselves that we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away.’

It was those words that had his feet carrying him to his car and those words that had him driving from his apartment to her home in Brooklyn and it was those words that had him standing outside of her front door ready to offer his heart to her. He knocked, more out of habit than anything, the key she had given him a few months ago being turned over between his fingers as he waited and the anxiety beginning to rise with each second that passed without her appearing at the door. He exhaled before finally putting the key into the lock, certain that she was home despite the fact that his visit was unplanned and unannounced.

“Rosie?” he called out into the hallway. “Are you there?”

The silence was unsettling and completely uncharacteristic, made worse by the fact that her car was parked outside in its usual spot and the fact that he could’ve sworn she’d mentioned during their phone call the night before that she was planning on having a day at home to do laundry and catch up on all of those less-important chores she didn’t have the time to do during the school year.

‘Maybe she’s not home after all’, he thought after a couple of minutes without a reply, more to soothe his own anxiety more than anything else. ‘She’s obviously decided to go out for a walk somewhere. That must be it.’ He was just about to turn away and leave, suddenly aware of how intrusive his presence in her home was when she clearly wasn’t there, when he was certain he heard her voice call his name.

“Rosie?”

A sob drifted down the hallway, muted but no less full of raw pain and anguish that had his legs carrying him towards the sound in big, long strides until it brought him to her bedroom where the door stood slightly ajar. He slowly pushed it open with an exhale of a breath he hadn’t felt being held within his lungs and his heart lurched at the sight of her curled up on her bed sobbing into her pillow. To go to her was instinctive, his soul called out to hers in a desperate attempt to soothe whatever pain she was in and he found himself kneeling at the side of her bed with his long fingers smoothing back the titian strands that had fallen into her face and clung to her tears.

“Ro, what happened?”

She didn’t answer him, couldn’t answer him, in fact, and so he moved onto the bed, gathering her up into his arms and held her close to his chest while he rubbed circles on her back, murmuring softly into her hair to try and still her sobs. He felt the way she clung on to him like she was drowning and he was the life-preserver and pressed gentle kisses against her forehead until her crying was no more than quiet sniffles.

“Rosie, sweetheart, talk to me. What happened? Are you okay?”

“My grandma,” she choked out against the fabric of his t-shirt. “My grandma died.”

Chris closed his eyes and exhaled as the second wave of tears took her, holding her steadfast against him and saying nothing other than reassuring her that he was there for her. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that for, with her still impossibly close to him long after she’d finished crying herself hollow, until after the tears had dried and all that was left was the crippling deadweight of grief. It was Chris that spoke out into the new but deafening silence, his voice barely audible and a little rough from his own emotion that sat threateningly high in his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Rosie…”

The tiny exhale that passed Rosie’s lips had Chris’s heart breaking in two for her. Her reply small and full of defeat. “She’d had dementia for a while… Didn’t really know who any of us were,” she sniffled, dangerously close to losing it again. “Every time I went back home it was like she had to learn who I was all over again. I know that this was the kindest thing to happen but-”

Chris kissed her forehead as she choked back a sob, a wordless assurance that she didn’t need to say another word and a quiet understanding of the pain and emptiness that she was drowning in.

“When are you flying home?” He murmured softly.

“I’m going to try and get a flight home for tomorrow, Thursday at the latest.”

“It’s gonna be expensive to try and get something that short notice, Ro.”

“That’s why I have savings,” Rosie gave a small, almost robotic shrug as she wiped her face, the emotion quickly being forced back down into her stomach as she turned her focus towards the things that she could control to keep herself from spiralling into hysterics again. “In case of an emergency.”

“Let me pay for your flight home,” Chris offered. “Please, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I can’t accept that, honey.”

Chris had been friends with Rosie long enough to be familiar with the fact she often used terms of endearment whenever she was talking to him, but even now, especially now, with all those feelings of complete clarity about her and about them and their relationship that sat in his chest, it still managed to knock him back a bit and make his heart swell even in a moment as awful as this one.

“Why not?”

He knew that this was a situation where he shouldn’t push too hard, that she would either pull away from him or direct all of that grief and emotion his way, like a cornered animal seconds away from deciding whether to fight or bolt. He knew he shouldn’t push this but he needed to do something, the overwhelming demand coming from his heart to make this right and fix this for her too much to ignore.

“Because I’m not your problem, Chris,” Rosie said, completely deflated. “Because this doesn’t need to be your problem.”

“I want to help, Ro, please. Please let me help. Please let me help fix this.” He was pleading with her and while a part of Rosie understood his desire to make this better for her, the swirling hurricane of emotions inside of her was reaching a fever pitch and, unable to make sense of it all, she found herself directing her howling gales towards the one thing she should have been holding on to.

“This isn’t something you can fix, Chris! You can’t fix this, you can’t make this right and you can’t bring her back!”

She stood with her fists balled tightly, the pain on her face as she sobbed and the realisation that she was right cutting through Chris like a knife. He had never been one to lose his nerve in a crisis, always the dependable one, always the stoic one. He was the guy people could rely on when things were shitty and it was something he prided himself on, but seeing her in front of him, shattered and in agony, knowing that he would have to sit this one out until she’d had a chance to process everything, left him feeling weak and powerless.

He watched her in stunned silence, unable to articulate feelings that he couldn’t make sense of. She was standing no more than three meters away from him but the distance between them felt like it stretched light-years. He couldn’t let her go to England with that hanging between the two of them, that ocean that would separate them felt like she would slip into another universe entirely and leave him with too much uncertainty about how things would be once she got back to New York. She didn’t give him a choice, though, her voice sounding abstract and unlike her own as she spoke into the void between them.

“I’m sorry, I just… I think I need to be alone right now. I need to wrap my head around this and it,” she paused for a moment, a shaky sigh filling the space. “It’s not fair on you for me to throw my emotions at you like this.”

“Rosie,” he spoke her name like a prayer, an oblique supplication that she heard but couldn’t accept.

“Please, Christopher. I know that you just want to help and, Christ, I appreciate you so much but I can’t accept your money, that’s just not my way, and I need to process this in my own way. I promise you though, I’ll let you know when I’m leaving for the UK and I swear that I’ll keep in touch.”

He hated it, all of it, but he loved her and he knew that she needed this, no matter how much it killed him to have to let her do things her own way. So that’s how he found himself nodding and respecting her request before folding her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple that he hoped would convey all of the affection and love that he held for her. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to cry as he drove back to his apartment and prayed to whoever was listening that she would be okay and that they would be okay, because if he lost that magic, if he lost her, he would have nothing.

It was two days later when Rosie reached out to say that she was at the airport waiting for her flight back to England, those forty-eight hours without talking to her the longest he’d ever endured. She assured him that while she was still not in a great place herself, that they were okay and that she appreciated everything he had offered to do for her. The messages were shorter than Chris was used to but it did help to make that feeling of distance between them feel a little less insurmountable than before.

June would usually have him heading to his coastal home in Connecticut or making the trip back to Massachusetts to be with his family, but he instead found himself lingering in New York, although with Rosie in England indefinitely he wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t committed to definite summer plans. If he really thought about it, though, really gave it more than a second’s thought and was completely honest with himself, he knew that he was waiting for her. He didn’t want to go home to Boxford and for her to come back to a city without him there. He wanted to be the one to welcome her back, pick her up from the airport and wrap her up in a hug that would have her never doubting how he truly felt about her. But really, when he spent time dissecting that desire to be there for her when she got back to New York, it actually stemmed from a desire to be with her, period. That was what had him picking up the phone and scrolling through his contacts, not even giving it a second thought when he hit that ‘call’ button but the guilt instantaneous when a sleepy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I completely forgot about the time difference,” Chris exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You never call without texting first. What’s on your mind?”

Chris sighed into the receiver, using the pause to gather his thoughts into some kind of semblance of coherence rather than dumping them all out in one go.

“I don’t even fucking know anymore, Mika.”

Mika’s tone shifted as the last remnants of sleep fell away, taking on the familiar quality that seemed to be reserved only for Chris. “Did something happen between you and Rosie?”

“Not really?” Chris offered, unsure of the answer to Mika’s question himself. “It’s just… It feels wrong, all of this.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. What feels wrong? I thought you loved her.”

“That’s just it, Mika,” Chris exhaled. “I do, fuck, I love her so much and the fact that she’s there and I’m here-”

Chris’s deep sigh through the receiver had Mika sitting up in bed, his next words spoken with such a surety as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So go to her.”

“What?”

Mika laughed so softly that it was barely audible, shaking his head despite Chris not being able to see him.

“Y’know, for someone so smart you really are dumb sometimes.”

“Okay, first of all, ouch,” Chris grumbled. “Second of all, rude. Thirdly, what’re you getting at exactly?”

“What I’m getting at,” groused Mika, too tired from being woken up in the wee hours of the morning to have any great level of patience. “Is that you should book a flight and get your ass to the UK.”

“Just like that? Just go?”

“Yes, Jesus, Chris. I don’t know what else you want me to say, man, it’s three in the morning here and Irma will kick my ass if I wake her up.”

“Right, yeah,” Chris mumbled, the guilt at waking up his friend rearing its head again. “Sorry, I know I shoulda thought about the time difference.”

“The only reason you have to be sorry is if you don’t pack a bag as soon as we’re done talking and go get on the next fucking plane to England.”

Chris paused, long enough to gather his thoughts but not long enough for Mika to be concerned.

“I guess I’ll let you know when I land then.”

“Give her a hug from me, Chris,” Mika said with complete sincerity.

“‘Course I will, and Mika?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, man.”

Mika smiled into the darkness of his bedroom before answering softly, “anytime.”

Chris had never been to England before and he wasn’t afraid to admit that his geography knowledge of the country was somewhat lacking, so to say that this trip was going to be a baptism of fire would have been entirely accurate. He was a confident enough driver, if he were to say so himself, but he’d have been a big fat liar (to put it in Rosie’s words) if he didn’t admit that the prospect of driving the 160 miles from London Heathrow to Exeter, on the wrong side of the road he might add, filled him with a little bit of dread. But if there was a woman worth braving the complete absurdity of a roundabout for, it was Rosie.

He couldn’t help but feel like he was going behind her back a little bit, using the excuse of wanting to send flowers to her as a means to get her parents’ address when he’d spoken to her on the phone the previous morning. He hoped that she would be able to forgive his little deception and see the purity of his intentions behind it, although he did pick up some flowers on the way to her parents’ house from the small hotel he was staying at, wanting to fulfil that part of the bargain at least. His heart thundered in his chest as he turned into a quiet residential street that the GPS was signalling as being his destination. He pulled up outside the house, checking, double checking and triple checking that he had the right address before he shut off the car engine and got out, grabbing the large bouquet of flowers off the back seat. He can’t ever remember a time that his palms were this clammy or where his legs felt like they were about to give way from under him quite like they did at that moment as he walked up the short driveway to the front door.

He rubbed his free hand on the front of his jeans, taking a settling breath before he knocked on the door, unsure of what to expect when it opened. His eyebrows raised in surprise when an older looking gentleman answered, who looked equally surprised to see a slightly dishevelled looking, six foot three stranger on his doorstep.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Chris spoke, thankful that he was at least able to find his strong voice despite the distraction of his heart hammering in his chest.

“Alright there, mate?” the man greeted, with an accent that Chris noted to be far stronger than Rosie’s. “You lost or summat?”

“I hope not,” Chris laughed more out of nerves than anything else. “I’m actually here to see Roseanna.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so unsure of himself, his statement coming out as more of a question and nothing at all like his normal confident self. The older man didn’t seem to pay too much notice to it though, instead breaking into a smile that Chris recognised as being near enough identical to Rosie’s and gestured for him to come inside the house.

“She’s just got back from walkin’ the dog, I’ll get ‘er for you.”

Chris watched as the man disappeared the short way down the hallway and called Rosie’s name into the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from forming on his face as he heard her voice reply to the man he had assumed to be her father.

“Someone’s ‘ere to see you, love, what? No, I don’t know who he is… maybe one of your university mates,” he turned back to give Chris a friendly nod before adding, “she’ll be right with you.”

Sure enough, no sooner were the words out of his mouth did Rosie appear in the doorway at the end of the hall, all red cheeks and light freckles from the sunshine. She stopped dead in her tracks, her face switching from total surprise at the sight in front of her to overwhelming joy before finally settling on complete disbelief at the realisation that Chris was standing right in front of her in the home she grew up in. Her legs instinctively carried her into his waiting arms, tears starting to fall before she could even register what was happening. Chris was certain that he would never forget the way she held onto him in that moment, with her face buried into his chest and her arms tight around his back.

“What are you doing here?” She finally managed, bringing her teary eyes up to meet Chris’s. “How? When?”

His only response was to kiss her forehead sweetly, holding her against his body like she was about to float away.

“I wanted to be here for you. I know you have your family but, God, it just didn’t feel right to be back in New York.” He stepped back from her a fraction so that he could offer the blooms he was still holding to her. “And I believe I promised you some flowers.”

“I thought you were sorting them with a local florist not travelling across the Atlantic to hand deliver them,” she laughed through her tears, a hand coming up to whack his chest lightly. “You are completely ridiculous, Christopher James Kreider.”

“Anything to see you smile, Ro.”

He kissed her hair before taking her outstretched hand and followed her as she led him into the kitchen to meet her family for the first time.

The next few days had Chris feeling a little bit like a spare part. Rosie and her family were busy with the last minute preparations for the funeral and Chris wished that he could do more to help out but, just like always, Rosie managed to allay his worries and settle his heart by assuring him that his presence alone was enough. They’d spent their free time taking in the sights of South Devon, Rosie relishing the opportunity to show him around the place she grew up and all of her favourite spots. He particularly enjoyed the day they spent down in a place called Torquay, the beauty of the ocean and the way the sun kissed her hair had him feeling bold enough to reach for her hand as they walked along the sea-front while enjoying an ice cream each.

On the day of the funeral, Chris made himself completely indispensable to Rosie and her family, nothing being too much trouble. He held Rosie tightly throughout the ceremony, never once letting her go and whispered words of comfort to her as she said her final goodbyes to the grandmother she loved so much before they exited the church. He stayed by her side throughout the wake at her request. The emotional rawness of the day had her feeling more vulnerable than she would have liked but there was something about the way Chris’s hand rested above her knee as they sat around the table that had her feeling more grounded and centred than she knew she would’ve been had he not been there. It was easy for her to go back to Chris’s hotel with him, the emotions of the day still weighed heavy on her and she couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping alone.

The gravity of those feelings wasn’t lost on Rosie and she knew that sooner or later she’d have to really take a step back and take a good look at her relationship with Chris and what it all meant. It was easier to be dishonest with herself and keep up the pretence that they were just friends because if she let herself think about them being anything else for too long she would feel her chest tighten and hear her heart start to whoosh in her ears. Was it childish? Absolutely, but she’d be damned if she let herself get hurt by a man again. Her self-preservation mechanism had been working like a charm so far and if it wasn’t broken then why fix it? It wasn’t completely infallible though and after two bottles of Chianti and the way the lamplight accentuated the softness in his eyes, Rosie found herself slipping.

“What’s on your mind?” He whispered, fingers finding her chin to bring her thousand yard stare away from the wall and back to his searching gaze.

“Everything,” she sighed softly. “It’s loud in my head tonight.”

“Is there one thing in particular that you can pick out?”

He took the wine glass that she was cradling and set it down on the table, taking her hands in his and rubbing his thumbs gently across her knuckles.

“Not really, today has just been a lot.”

Chris nodded in understanding, not wanting to pry further and cognizant of the emotional strenuity of the day. Instead he pulled her closer, nestling her into his side and pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.

“I still can’t believe you came all this way for me,” she murmured.

“Why darling,” Chris started, Rosie immediately recognising the quote as being Hemingway. “I don’t live at all when I’m not with you.”

She tilted her head up towards him, her lips impossibly close to his as her fingers danced along the stubble at his jaw and swallowed down the nerves that had lodged in her throat. She closed her eyes, so close to giving in to her heart and letting it win, for better or worse. Chris had been dreaming of this moment though, longing for it with every close call and missed opportunity. This is how it should’ve been at Christmas and all of the team events he’d the delight of having her on his arm, but instead he let himself chicken out, the fear of spooking her and losing her too much to allow himself to take the risk. But now, he had Rosie right there. She was impossibly close and all around him and he knew that if he didn’t take that leap and place his lips on hers, he might never get that chance again and that is what had him brushing his lips lightly across hers, his fingers finding a home amongst the loose copper curls that were glowing like hot coals in the low light of the room.

Instinct took over and had Rosie arching her body into him, her hands reaching up into his hair to muss the short curls. Even with her body pressed against his, Chris needed her closer, his big arms looping around her and pulling her into his lap. He kissed her desperately, a kiss to make up for all the kisses they should have already shared and all the words that should have been spoken. It should have terrified him, how easy it was to be with her like this and how easy the push and pull of it was, neither taking more than they were giving in the moment. This was what Boris Pasternak meant when he said ‘you and I, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent to Earth together to see if we know what we were taught., Chris was sure of it because nothing could compare to how Rosie’s lips felt against his and the feeling of her hands on his skin. Her kiss was heaven and her eyes felt like home and Chris knew in that moment that he needed all of her.

As he carried her to bed, Rosie thought about how right being in his arms felt. It was a strong sense of belonging that she couldn’t ever remember having with anyone else - ‘whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same’, she thought. He spoke her name against her ear like a prayer, all the love and want for her conveyed in one simple word while he removed her dress with tender hands. Her body was laid on display for him like a canvas, his mouth was the paintbrush and Chris knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life painting a masterpiece onto her skin with his lips.

They moved together between the sheets as sure as the gentle waves that lap against the shore, her hands never feeling more at home than they did running up his back and over his shoulders before settling against the broad plains of his chest. Her every breath and every moan sounded like an aria to his ears and his name tumbling from her lips with every thrust of his hips was met with a moan of hers. He thought she could never look as good as she did underneath him, blooming like a rose, until he found himself on his back with her above him, her hair falling around them both like a curtain and her mouth panting against his as she rolled her hips. His hands made a home at the dip of her waist, guiding her in her movements but never taking the reins from her, giving her the control they both knew she needed in the moment.

It was intuitive, really, the way she was rocking her hips into his and the steady build of pressure in her stomach had her chanting Chris’s name like an incantation. He saw on her face the exact moment that the coil snapped, moaning as she fluttered and tightened around him and brought his hips up to meet hers as she rode the wave of her orgasm.

“I’m with you,” he murmured against her neck.

“Please, Chris. I need you.”

“I’ve got you, Ro. I’ve got you.”

She turned her face to meet his lips in a deep kiss, Chris moaning into her mouth as he spilled inside of her with stuttering hips. Rosie let out a contented sigh as she kissed him through his release, her chest pressed against his and her fingers playing with whatever ends of his hair she could reach. They stayed that way long after he’d gone soft inside of her, content to just bask in the afterglow of the moment as Chris’s fingers traced up and down her back. Rosie knew that she needed to have a frank discussion with Chris about her feelings but now didn’t seem like the right time for that. The sudden realisation that things would never be the same and that there was no going back to the way things were after this embedded itself like a seed, but Rosie let herself surrender to the feeling of safety and security Chris’s arms offered her before it could take root. She nestled herself against his side, her head resting on his chest with her eyes closed, and let his heartbeat be the gentle lullaby to lead her into the beautiful twilight.

Chris awoke to the feeling of Rosie snug and secure within his arms, a peaceful look resting on her features that gave her an angelic quality. He let his mind wander to the night before and allowed the love he felt for her run wild through his veins and fill every corner of his mind, body and soul. For so long it had just been him and hockey, never subscribing to the idea that a person needed a relationship to be complete. But as he looked down and saw his entire world resting within his arms, he realised that he had been right all along. It wasn’t a relationship that made a person complete. It was love. That all-consuming wildfire that burns everything else away until there is nothing left but a new-beginning. He remembered the quote from Corelli that Rosie loved so much and felt everything fall into place. He felt like he’d waited a million years for this feeling and now that he felt it consume him like wildfire, he knew that he would have waited a million more, just as long as he had the privilege of being hers. It was surrendering all that he had ever been for everything that she was, for every kiss and every touch. Her love was his turning page and loving her was the greatest and best thing that he would ever do in his life, he was sure of it.

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, eyes crinkling with his smile as she stirred.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he whispered against her hair. “You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” she croaked, voice still thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

Chris looked over her shoulder at the clock on the nightstand. “Just gone eight-thirty.”

“Oh, okay.”

She furrowed her brows again, suddenly feeling Chris everywhere as pieces of the night before flooded her consciousness as she fully emerged from sleep and into the waking world. She was naked, she registered, and so was he and she was blindsided by an abrupt awareness that a definite line had been crossed that they could never go back from. It was that recognition of their friendship never being the same again that had her rolling away from Chris without warning. She was out of bed before he could even register what was happening, gathering up her clothes and dressing quickly without as much as a word.

“Rosie?” Chris was sitting up now, a slight waver to his voice as he spoke her name. “What are you doing?”

“I have to go,” she mumbled, an almost robotic edge to her tone that had Chris jumping out of bed and throwing on a pair of sweatpants, already catching up to her racing thoughts without her needing to say another word. He rushed to the door that she was making a beeline for, stepping in front of it and reaching desperately for her hands.

“Don’t do this, Ro… Please, don’t run from this.”

“Chris,” she warned, the emotion sitting dangerously high in her throat and her eyes glossing over with tears.

“What’re you so afraid of? I know you feel it too, Rosie. I know you do.”

“Chris, please,” she tried to brush past him but Chris wouldn’t let this moment slip through his fingers, not this time.

“No, we’re not doin’ this anymore. We’re not gonna spend the rest of our lives pretending that we’re just friends because we’re not, Rosie. I don’t think we have been for a long time- look at me, Ro, please.”

Chris saw the flicker of hesitation cross her face but the desperation in his voice was too much for her to ignore. She brought her eyes up to meet his and saw a fire burning within them that she had never seen before.

“I love you, Rosie. You have to know that by now.”

She shook her head vehemently, the tears she had managed so far to keep at bay finally slipping out and onto her cheeks.

“Don’t,” she whimpered. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who says I don’t mean it?” He brought his hands to cup her face to keep her eyes on him. “You? Do you think I’d travel across an ocean to be here with you now if I didn’t love you?”

Rosie answered only with a sniffle, the feeling of his touch along her skin anchoring her in a moment where she felt like she was drowning in a sea of every repressed emotion and feeling from the last eighteen months.

“But what if this doesn’t work? What if we’re better as friends?”

“I know you don’t believe that,” he wiped away the tears on her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “I know that you’ve been hurt before and I know that you’re scared. But you can’t keep holding on to the past, Ro, because if you do you’ll miss out on what’s right in front of you.”

“It’s not the loving you part that’s hard Chris,” she whispered. “It’s admitting to myself that it happened at all that is. I’ve had all these defences that have worked to keep me from getting hurt for so long but it was like you didn’t even see them at all, like they were meant for others while you had your very own door. I’ve spent so long asking myself why that is and come up with nothing. Do you know how terrifying that is?”

He kissed her forehead softly in response before pulling back to look into her eyes, making sure that she saw him, felt him, heard him. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

The corners of Rosie’s mouth quirked up into a smile despite her tears and her doubts, her favourite passage from Pride and Prejudice never sounding as good as it did coming from Chris’s mouth and extinguishing every fear she was holding within her heart. She closed her eyes and nodded, her lips connecting with his in a kiss that could’ve stopped the world from turning. She gave herself to him completely and surrendered to the overwhelming love that burned within her for him. There were no words that could convey to Chris just how much he meant to her but she hoped that ones from Rupi Kaur would do it justice:

“You might not have been my first love, but you were the love that made all the other loves irrelevant.”

Chris smiled against her mouth and kissed away every fear and worry until there was nothing left but him and her and the love they had for each other.

Life continued much as it had before, a testament really to the relationship that Chris and Rosie already shared and the official label did nothing more than earn them a chorus of “it’s about time” from their friends and had Mika looking incredibly smug for the next few months. The passage of time only served to make their relationship stronger, both able to give themselves completely without the uncertainty of their feelings looming over them or holding them back. Rosie often found herself being struck by the easiness of their relationship and she never once found herself questioning Chris’s commitment to her and what they had. When he asked her how she would feel about ending the lease on her Brooklyn apartment and moving into his place in Manhattan she didn’t have to give it a second thought. Everything about it felt natural and they were both ready to take that next defining step in their relationship. Once Rosie’s belongings and houseplants were moved in, Chris couldn’t help but feel as if they had always been there, like his apartment was finally complete and that it was the home he had always imagined it would eventually be.

Of course, there were bumps in the road, both of them had been on their own for so long that they were set in their ways at first, but their disagreements never lasted long, their shared knack for communication often diffusing the situation before it had chance to grow arms and legs. The adjustment was harder for Chris in some ways, especially when things on the ice weren’t going so well and he would retreat into himself or misdirect his frustrations towards Rosie with a sharper tone than was necessary, but she stood firm, never one to suffer fools and for that Chris was eternally grateful. They complimented each other in ways they couldn’t even have imagined, Chris able to pull Rosie out of her own head when the world weighed heavy on her shoulders and Rosie never afraid to put Chris in his place when he needed it. As the months rolled into years and their love went from strength to strength, Chris knew for certain that she was it for him and there was nothing he wanted more than to start and end the day with Rosie for all of the days to come.

Rosie looked at Chris with confusion as their Uber pulled up outside Westsider Books one early September evening. There was a faint glow of lights inside but it didn’t look as if the shop was open and Rosie couldn’t understand why Chris had brought her here when she was sure they closed at five.

“I didn’t realise this place opened late,” she said as Chris opened her car door and offered his hand to help her out of the car.

“I think it’s just a one-time thing,” he replied as he thanked the driver and closed the door. He placed a hand on the small of Rosie’s back and guided her towards the shop entrance, pushing the door open and gesturing for Rosie to go in ahead of him. Rosie wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting to find inside, but hundreds of glittering fairy lights, candles and more flowers than she could count wasn’t even on the list.

“Chris?” she breathed, turning to look at him.

“If you were to list your top three favourite books of all time off the top of your head,” he started, wrapping his arms around her waist. “What would they be?”

“Christopher…”

“Come on, Ro,” he grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way she loved so much. “Just... play along… Please, for me?”

“Alright, well…” she conceded with a gentle sigh. “Off the top of my head I would probably say Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, For Whom the Bell Tolls and Pride and Prejudice.”

Chris’s smile somehow managed to double in size, the soft glow of the string lights and candles had his eyes sparkling like smoky quartz, the lush green flecks that usually lived among the dark bark of his irises hidden by the low light. He knew she would say that, of course, knowing her with an intimacy that even after all their years of friendship and the years of loving her still managed to knock him back a bit. He took her hand then, leading her along the aisle before stopping in front of a shelf with a dozen hand-tied sunflowers. He reached out and took a book from the shelf.

“Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières,” he murmured, passing the book to Rosie with an easy grin. “Go on, open it.”

He watched as she opened the cover of the book, her face softening at the sight of a delicate pendant necklace nestled between the pages. A small silver fern leaf hung at the end of the thin chain, a nod to the many houseplants she had brought into his home when she moved in that he had playfully grumbled about but in all actuality loved.

“Chris, it’s beautiful.”

He gently took the necklace from her hands and spun Rosie around, draping the chain across her chest and fastening it behind her neck with sure fingers before turning her back to face him, his eyes falling to the pendant that glimmered in the low light of the room.

“It looks gorgeous on you,” he smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Right, what was the next book? For Whom the Bell Tolls, right?”

“Chris, what is all this?” Rosie asked softly, taking Chris’s outstretched hand and following him down the next aisle to another shelf. He ignored her question, simply picking up the book and handing it to her.

“I love that you love Hemingway almost as much as I do,” he whispered softly. “Almost. You have no idea how much it means to me that I get to share that enjoyment with you and I want us to keep making memories together and sharing enjoyment of the things we love.” He watched her expectantly, waiting for her to open the book to reveal the piece of paper he’d folded in there. He took the book from her hands so that she could open it.

Rosie’s eyes widened as she read what she realised to be an itinerary for a trip to Europe next summer.

“I’ve only been to a couple of places in Europe,” Chris started. “And I figured who better to show me around than the girl who’s visited near enough every country on that continent?”

Rosie was unable to contain her sniffles by this point, overwhelmed at the thought and preparation that Chris had put in, not only in the trip to Europe, but this whole evening as well. She shook her head gently as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“This is too much, Chris, you shouldn’t have.”

He pulled back from her just far enough to get her eyes on his, his face set with an expression that held all the love in the world.

“Ah, ah, there’s still one more book, which if I’m not mistaken is your all-time favourite and you, Roseanna Williams, are worth all the good things in this world.”

Her slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side as they walked back towards the front of the shop, Rosie gently wiping the tears away from her eyes. Pride and Prejudice sat pride of place in the middle of a small table, the book surrounded by petals. Chris gave her an encouraging look and stepped back as she picked it up, taking a small envelope from out of the book before setting it back down again. Her eyes found her name on the front of the envelope in Chris’s unmistakable handwriting before turning it over in her hands and opening it, pulling out what appeared to be a letter. She took a steadying breath as she began to read.

My dearest Rosie,

There will never be the words to adequately express just how much you mean to me or how grateful I am to have found you. You are everything that I didn’t even know I was searching for, that I didn’t even know I needed.

I never believed in fate, every happy accident is just that. A happy accident. Coincidence. Right place, right time. But you, you have opened my eyes to the idea of pure magic because how can a love like ours be founded on pure coincidence alone? How can a soul yearn for someone they had never met? I know now that the reason I found myself in this very book store on that day you came into my life was because your soul was calling me here.

In you I have everything I’ll ever need. No matter where my career takes me, no matter what lies ahead, as long as I have you I have everything. I love you more than anything else in this world, you have given me a higher purpose and I will spend the rest of my life making you happy if you’ll let me.

All my love, Always

Chris

We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright - E. Hemingway.

Rosie closed her eyes and let her tears fall onto her cheeks as she clutched the letter to her chest.

“Chris…”

“I’m gonna need you to open your eyes, babe,” Chris chuckled softly.

Rosie smiled as she allowed her eyes to drift open, her hand immediately coming up to her mouth as she stifled an unexpected sob at the sight of Chris down on one knee in front of her, a ring box open in his hand that looked as if it contained an entire galaxy of glittering stars.

“Ro, I can’t even remember what my life was like without you in it, I didn’t even know that I was in the dark. Until I saw your smile. It was only then that I realised and now I never want to live a single day without the warmth and light of your love. It’s us, babe. It’s always been us and it’s always been you, since the day we met. I didn’t even realise I was waiting for you and now that I have you, everything is as it should be. I love you, Rosie. I’ve always loved you and I would be the happiest and luckiest man on Earth with you as my wife. Marry me, babe?”

Rosie sank slowly to her knees in front of Chris, her hands reaching up and cupping his face as her tears fell. In front of her was a man who had given her everything, who had helped her to let go of the past and right now, he was offering her a future brighter and more wonderful than anything she could’ve ever imagined and never dared to dream she would have.

“Oh god, please tell me those are happy tears.”

She cut him off with a kiss, a kiss that gave Chris his answer without her even needing to say it. She kissed him with everything she had, kissed him with all of the love that coursed through her veins, kissed him until her lungs were gasping for air and she finally had to pull away, resting her forehead against his with her hands stroking along his jaw.

“Yes,” Rosie whispered. “A million times, yes.”

As Chris slid the ring onto Rosie’s finger, he took the opportunity to look into those eyes of hers that he’d grown to love so much. It was there that he saw their future, all of their hopes and dreams and the promise of all the joy in their lives that was to come and as her arms wrapped tightly around him, Chris felt their souls sigh as they folded into one another. Chris couldn’t tell what the future had in store for them both, but no matter where their path together would lead them, it was in her embrace that he found solace and it was in her heart that he found a home.

#chris kreider #chris kreider fic #nhl fic #nhl fiction #nhl fanfiction #chris kreider x ofc #nhl writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fiction #chris & rosie #turning page universe #my writing

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Note

For the 300 followers prompts, number 26!!!

Since this idea was worth almost crashing while riding my bicycle listening to Heather, so here we go.

Your tiny safe box

Dialogue prompt - 26. " You love me like I'm the only person who deserves your love " " but you are the only person who deserves my love " | STORY TELLING | mild hurt comfort |

For @cupofsquirrelfan, thank you for requesting this prompt.

I remember the day when for the first time you stirred something inside me. It wasn't disastrous but my heart became a traitor and I forgot what it felt like to see you otherwise. You had stood before me and awkwardly apologized for everything you've ever done me bad for but I could see it how hard it was for you, I think I accepted your apology never knowing it'd ever turn into something so beautiful.

I remember when I first saw your smile, first saw you laughing, the Actual laughing, not the snickering or laughing at insults, you laughed at a joke I told and my threefold heart raced once again. I never knew a smile could be so beautiful and a sound could ever be more homely but there was you, so breath takingly and effortlessly beautiful. But I think you had swore to the lords to always prove me wrong, no matter what.

I also remember when you told me you were getting engaged. I was perhaps not in love with you then but I might've been falling anyways but I knew it when it stung me like all the bee's kept sucking my blood but I smiled because you had to go back to your hive. I didn't stop you and when I finally saw you getting married,I finally realised how much I loved you. I should not have fallen for you, I knew it but I think my heart never really ever belonged to me after you had apologized, after you had smiled at me, after you had laughed with me, after you had held my hand in a casual touch, after you had given me the simplest reasons to sleep at night with a smile upon my face. It started belonging to you somewhere along the time and even then I didn't complain. You had two hearts, one of hers and one of mine but then again you are a real charming heart throb, only I wished you had chosen mine.

But I settled for being your best friend, your single best friend you set unsuccessful dates up on, your friend you watched the quidditch match with every Friday night, your friend you went shopping with, your friend who gave you advise on what to gift next, your friend who took you out on Saturday's just so you got out, your friend who sang with you the chorus of endless love , your friend who lied about not having found the one, you friend who gave you marriage advise, I settled for it all as long as I had you near me. I settled knowing that i didn't do a sin confessing how I felt about you even though it hurt me Everytime I saw your face with your new wife. I settled for less.

But I remembered how happy you were after you had gotten married, how happy you were when you saw the bride walking down the isle, how happy you had been with the girl who you thought was from your dreams, how happy you were when you Returned from your honey moon, how happy you were when you knew you were expecting a baby, how happy you had been all along and I wondered what would had happened if I had been the one giving you that happiness but it didn't matter because one look at you and your wife, I'd known you'd never had chosen me.

But then one day you knocked on my door, you looked tired and I summoned you inside my house, offered you tea and you talked, you talked and you talked, and finally you told that you needed a divorce. I was shook because I thought you were the happiest couple in the world but you had told me how one perceives their relationship, how it was all about concealing, that you hadn't been happy after third year of marriage, that you didn't even sleep in the same room anymore. I was confused and you told me you were Afraid you couldn't do this but I remember giving you advise to work on your marriage again, to give her another chance because I could see in the little flickers in your eyes that you looked for that answer, you hoped I'd answer for you to try again. You might've thought why I had told you this but I was in love with you, I knew what you needed to hear be it if it was a pain to me, I gave you what you needed to hear and you left that night repeating that you'd give the marriage another try and I thought that was it for me. I thought this was my last straw, that I should move on after all this time.

And I did, or at Least tried to, I tried dating people, I went off, had fun with other people but their eyes didn't blink the same way, their smile didn't cage my heart, their lips didn't quirk the same way, their eyes didn't smile with their mouth, their hands were not as warm, their body was not as warm, them sharing their jacket wasn't the same, nothing was the same Because it wasn't you. I remembered I cried then the first time realising how foolishly I had been in love with you all these years that my heart didn't yearn but for you and you were there giving your marriage another try. I remember I stood before your House that very night, thinking I couldn't hold it anymore, that you needed to know but I couldn't do this. I loved you too much to snatch you away from Someone you love.

But thing's were never supposed to be that simple Because the day you turned to me for comfort again, you told me you knew my secret. I had asked what secret but your eyes spoke for you. I didn't say anything to you after that, I didn't comment because I had no agreeing to do nor denying, I was in love with you, how could I not be. But then you asked me something so unusual that I never thought you'd ask me in my entire life.

" why ?"

I frowned asking you what that why had been for.

" when that women couldn't love me, why do you ? Why have you loved me for long enough than my wife have ? How have you ?"

And I smiled at you, telling you how I didn't fell in love with the way you talked or the way you smirked or the way you dressed up or the way you learnt things, I fell in love with you because you became someone that was so hard to become, I fell in love with you because you're ugly too like me with scars that remained with you, I fell in love with you because you reminded me of spring, I fell in love with you because you had told me one day that a garden isn't dead until the last of the grass twig have dried up, I fell in love with you and not your things or your Beauty but your brain, your heart and you.

You had stared at me for long enough perhaps figuring out what to reply, but I didn't need one. I had caged my feelings in a tiny safe box and now I had given it to you and it was only yours now.

And after I had thought you wouldn't say anything else you told me

" you love me like I'm the only one who deserves your love "

" but Draco, you are the only who deserves my love "

And you had smiled at me, faintly telling me with your sparkling eyes you had loved me too someday, maybe yesterday, maybe an year from before, or maybe the first time we met in the robe shop but you had loved and I had loved you too.

But it was about starting new. You told me to start new, you told me you had to start new and so the next morning you came to my House with those signed divorce papers and then only you filled my brimming pot seeking a kiss from you, you finally kissed me like you had been saving yourself for me for ages and I had too..

We had lost so much time, I told you but you only replied

" if this life isn't enough, I'd find you again in the next and then there won't be Anyone for me but you "

Sorry for such a short prompt.

300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open

Angst prompts request open

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flysafepapi · 2 years

Text

best interests (little talks) 5/?

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Ollie x OFC John x platonic!OFC

i know this one is short but i have a headache and couldn’t write the whole thing like i wanted.

Summary: Even in the short amount of time it’s been since Amelia moved to the city, she’s heard all sorts of stories about them. The Peaky Blinders. More than half of the stories, she suspects, are wildly exaggerated and little more than idle gossip traded when people are well into their cups. Even so, she made a promise to herself to stay away from men who looked like trouble, especially after the last time, and if anyone in this dreary city was trouble, it was them.

masterlist

“Are you free this weekend?”

Amelia doesn’t look up from the game of poker that she’s gotten herself dragged into, focused on deciding which cards she should keep and which she could add to the small pile in the middle of the table. John and Arthur are, admittedly, more than decent poker players. Unfortunately for the both of them, Amelia is a cheat, and she’s not going to stop being one now just because they’ve become friends.

“I’m not, actually. I’ll be up in London with my man, and we won’t be doing much talking. Full house.”

For a minute the house is filled with the sounds of Arthur and John cursing her while they slide the small boiled sweets across the table to her as her winnings. After she’d taken them for most of what they had in their pockets, she’d graciously suggested they switch to something with lower stakes.

“You, not doing much talking? Fuck off. Can hardly get a word in with you around.” Arthur pours them all a drink, not that they need another, and winks at her.

“Listen, if you don’t know how to do it right and give a girl better things to do than talk, you can just say that, Arthur, we won’t judge.”

John inhales and chokes on the whiskey, keeling over in his chair to cough it up in between peals of laughter, and she lays her cards on the table and leaves them to it, Arthur grumbling to himself that he knows how to do it right.

She follows Tommy back through the betting shop to his office.

“Why do you want to know if I’m free?”

“I’ve got a job for you. If you want it.”

“Is this about the races? People talk,” she says, holding up her hands when he gives her a look. “Did you deal with the barmaid?”

“Did I miss the part where we got close enough for you to have the right to ask questions?”

“I thought it might be healthy for Tommy Shelby to realise that not everyone is too scared to question his decisions. You might be the boss around here, but I’m not from here, and if you think I’m going to do everything you say, then you’re going to be very disappointed.”

He rubs his face like just talking to her is enough to give him a headache.

“Are you free or not?”

“For the right price, I can be.”

“And what would that price be?”

Amelia makes a show of thinking about it, tapping her foot on the floor as she looks out the windows, drawing the moment out for as long as she feasibly can.

“That deal you’ve made with the Lees. I know you’re going to use John as part of it, to marry the girl and seal the agreement.”

“How do you- I’m not even going to ask. What about it?”

“Find someone else to do it and let him choose who he wants. Those are my terms.”

He’ll deny until his dying day that the protective bond she’s formed with John, and the matter of fact tone that not many are brave enough to use with him, makes him smile a little.

“Fine. Deal. But, only if you can find a replacement.”

“Deal. I’ll meet you at the Garrison at 8 on Saturday. I’ll even wear a nice dress.”

~~~

“We’re closed.”

“That’s unfortunate. Your boss told me to meet him here this morning. We’re going to the races. Didn’t Arthur tell you? I just saw him leaving.”

Amelia hadn’t been sure that Tommy was going to listen to her, about Grace. Men who thought they knew better rarely listened to anyone, and men who were thinking with their cocks even less so. If the look Grace is giving her now is any indication, like she’d love nothing more than to shoot Amelia where she stands for interfering in her plans, then Tommy must have taken a step back and cut Grace off from any concrete sources of information she could pass off to her superiors.

“What’s the matter, Grace? You look pale, are you ill?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

She lets the tense silence stretch for another minute before she speaks again, smiling softly. It’s not unlike dancing, the act. It’s all about knowing which step you’re going to take next, slipping carefully from one move to the next. “You know, I haven’t been in the area long either. I haven’t made it to see the museum yet, but I’ve seen you around there a fair few times. You must love it there.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have a few regular deliveries I make around that area. You must be a very punctual person, I only ever see you there around the same time of day. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, but I think it’s sweet that you go there to meet your father. The older man?”

Before Grace can say any of the things Amelia can see brewing in her eyes, Tommy opens the door. Time to slip back into the act yet again.

“We’re late.”

“Not me, I’ve been here for half an hour, love.”

She turns her head just as she’s about to step through the door that Tommy’s still holding open for her. “Thanks for waiting with me, Grace. I enjoy our little talks.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fics #i am aware of the length please don't @ me i am in pain #i had so much fun with this part #amelia is a sarcastic bitch and i love her #also loving the relationship between her and the other shelbys #i havent added polly ada and finn yet but i will #favorite part was her using the favor to stick up for john #a+ best friend shit #the ending though #amelia thompson (oc)#john shelby #arthur shelby #tommy shelby #grace burgess

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domesticblisss · 3 years

Text

Nice to Meet You

Jay White x Female Reader Requested Prompt: “Hello! Thank you for opening requests. How about one with Jay White where he’s in New Japan and reader is in WWE and they end up following each other on ig or something and after awhile of messages and such they finally meet and get together? You can change things up if you want I just love the idea of 2 people from separate companies getting together lol ❤️ ” Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1306 Warnings: Nothing, fluff as fuck with a tiny little bit of angst and some between the lines pinning and a little cursing. Summary: Mutual friends aren't enough for you to meet, but the internet is. A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post it, work has been crazy, then writer's block hit and when the inspirations finally got back to me, I had the shittiest week ever so I couldn't bring myself to write it. I hope it's at least a little bit good, and that my dear requester and you all like it. 💕

He always heard about her and she always heard about him. Only good things.

Shelley always gushed about how their styles were similar, Sabin went off countless times on how they should wrestle as a duo, and against each other, and Candice kept mentioning how they would look cute together.

But the friends in common weren't enough to make them meet each other and their hectic schedule never coincided. Soon, Jay shipped off to Japan full time and she finally got her NXT contract signed.

Jay was the one to take the first step. It was on a late saturday night, one of his few days off, when he finally decided to watch her debut match against Asuka after seeing it trending across social media and different news outlets.

She lost the match, but she gave the NXT Women’s Champion a run for her money. Hard kicks after hard kicks, asuka locks being countered several times, and the most incredibly performed top rope DDT he had ever seen. It was the hardest hitting women’s match he had seen in a while and he was amused with her talent, so amused he had to let the world know.

“@thisisfuryWWE nxt debut match was the best one I’ve seen in a long time. Can’t wait to see more of you 😉”

The message made her smile, the recognition from someone she always thought so highly of warming her heart.

“@JayWhiteNZ thank you! this means a lot coming from the #switchblade 🔪❤️”

With that came the mutual following on social media, then the likes, the casual comments turned into dm’s, turned into phone number exchanges, and soon, they didn’t know a life without each other.

Every day a “good morning” text would be sent by whoever woke up first and “sleep well” texts closed off the night. The time zone was messy, but they always found a way to talk to each other, losing count of how many nights were poorly slept and the amount of coffee they drank on the morning after.

Little “this made me think of you” messages were sent whenever a dog picture or a meme came their way, friends' dinner/lunch dates through FaceTime became a thing and every Instagram post got commented with an inside joke. Friends and fans started to notice the change in their relationship and soon their mentions were bombarded with speculating questions.

“Are you guys together?”

“When are the two of you getting married?”

“@thisisfuryWWE and @JayWhiteNZ get a fucking room already”

“I would if she was near me 🙄”

She was the one who took the second step. After a lot of talk with Candice, she finally realised her true feelings towards the kiwi. It wasn’t easy accepting them at first, she took longer to respond to his messages, the “good morning” texts were no more, and her answers were always short, until the fateful day where she completely stopped answering him.

→ I don’t know if I did something wrong, and I am so sorry if I did, but please talk to me.

She knew that ghosting him was wrong and that she needed to tell him the truth, even if her anxiety got the best of her.

The clock on her phone announced that it was 12:45pm, meaning it was almost 2 in the morning for him and that he probably had just gotten back from the monday tapings, tired and wanting to sleep. “Fuck it, he texted me. It’s now or never.”

Ring.

He picked up on the third ring, his long, dyed black hair wet, sticking to his forehead, the droplets of water running down his chest.

“Hey! Sorry it took me a while to pick it up, I was just taking a shower. How are you?” He panted like he had just ran a marathon to pick up the phone. “I missed you.”

She had never seen him so vulnerable, the small tone of his voice shot a tinge of pain to her heart. “Can we talk? I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, just let me put some pants on.” Jay laughed.

He sat the phone down on the nightstand and she kept staring at the cream ceiling of his hotel room, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

“Is everything okay, I was worried about you.” Noises of shuffling fabric were noticeable in the background, paired with a string of curses after what she was pretty sure was him bumping his pinky on some furniture.

“Everything is fine. Is your toe still alive?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

She looked at him, really looked at him. The dark hair dryer, messy and no longer sticking to his forehead, probably the work of him aggressively running the towel over it. His fair skin pink after a hot shower, blue eyes shy, almost anxiety ridden with anticipation of what could happen next. She let out a modest smile, running the words she had thought about telling him countless times in her head.

“What is it, honey?”

“Jay, I- I need to tell you something. I don’t know how to say it but just let me finish first or I’ll die.”

He only nodded.

“I like you. Really, really like you. That’s why I’ve been off these past few days, I’ve been trying to understand my feelings and I ended up scaring myself because I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” she stopped for a few seconds, hands running over face and hair, taking a moment to breath. “Jay, I– fuck, I appreciate our friendship so, so much and I don’t want to ruin it, but I get it if this makes you uncomfortable and if you want to cut ties.”

Jay kept quiet, staring at her through the small screen, smile getting bigger and until it turned into full, hearty laughter.

“Jay, this is not funny. I’m not–“

“This is why you vanished? God, can’t you see I fucking love you too, you idiot?!”

Silence engulfed the pair again as they looked at each other, not believing what had finally happened. They exchanged smiles and lingering stares before continuing the conversation.

“I’m crazy about you, honey.”

“And how are we going to do this, Jay?”

“I am constantly going back home, you can come over when you have some free time. We will figure it out, baby.”

Three weeks of messages and video calls, three weeks of “I love yous” and “can’t wait to see you”, three of the longest weeks of their lives until they finally meet each other.

Jay opens instagram, her story bubble being the first one to show up. He clicks on it and is met with a picture of her in a red envelope dress and white converse, the same one he was wearing, and a caption that said “today is going to be a great day! ❤️🔪”.

🔥 reaction and a “see you in forty, love” reply sent, her phone vibrated in her purse just a few meters away from him. Little did he know she was waiting for him in the landing room, holding a small poster with “Mr. White” written and little switchblades drawn all over it.

She grew anxious as everyone but Jay left the plane, checking the time and if she was on the right gate constantly.

Five minutes passed, five minutes that felt like hours, and Jay finally came out, with sunglasses covering his eyes and his denim jacket in hand. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, a smile growing on his face as she ran to him. He engulfed her in a tight hug, kissing her lips in small pecks that grew into one big slow kiss.

They touched foreheads after, smiling and laughing, not believing they were finally in each other’s arms.

“Hey, stranger.”

#jay white x reader #jay white imagine #jay white #wrestling imagine #njpw imagine #wrestling fanfiction #jay white fanfic #DB Writes

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neoaevis · 3 years

Text

How Much I Love You/Hate You 3

Taglist: @ijuuy @brrrrrrah

Word Count:1689

Warnings: None

A/N: Aaah finally part 3 is up sorry if this is short and kinda fast paced but I wanna get into to it so yea expect part 4 is into it(the arrange marriage scene will start there proly) and I feel like the last part is really rushed but plss give me some feedback I ish need it alsoo plss chat me or ask me if you wanna be tagged.

Y/N’s POV:

The bright light of the sun hurts your eye the moment it tries to open up making you groan and stretch your arms as you were now getting up slowly from your deep slumber, you eye your room and notice the things you failed to notice the night of your arrival, your childhood room has undergone changes with example the colors that used to be in a pastel shade now in a dark shade to compliment your mature taste but you will never fail to see how all the pictures of your childhood were still on full display on the desk you used to use whenever you were studying, getting up you can’t help but smile how things change so fast the girl who was once playing around in this very room was now getting ready to enter the corporate world, you wash yourself up before coming down to the breakfast that your mom asks the maid to make every single time. The bath made you smell like a full bloom rose which is one of your personal favorites, the outfit you chose for today was the Versace mini blazer dress with a pair of black Louboutin heels and underneath is a sexy lingerie from Victoria secret, the scent you went in for today was from Giorgio Armani Sì.

As you went down everyone was in awe seeing you big smiles evident in their faces, when you were munching yourself with breakfast your mom can’t help but compliment from head to toe and tell you how much she misses you and things she plans now that you are here, her stories made you really miss her so you also told her stories about your stay in New York “Mom, did you know there was one time I was actually really drunk in this one party and when I went to class the next day with a massive hungover my shit ass professor dropped the bomb at how we have a quiz the next day because of that I had to cave myself up the whole day and review this much” you showed her your hand and she chucked at your story remembering how she was during her college days, more exchange of stories went on and that made you feel your mom’s warmth once more( well you were always close to your mom she was the only one you had growing up) the breakfast was special today not until your mom dropped a question you find odd “Honey, do you perhaps have a boyfriend or any potential husband right now?” she asks with a smile plastered on her face which makes you raise your brows “Mom, why talk about that you do remember me saying that I don’t want to get married right?” you tell her with a firm tone but she begins to sigh “You’re only saying that now Y/N, I was like that once but eventually I got married” she counters what you said but you feel frustrated “You got married and dad cheated” you tell her while eyeing her “Y/N not all men cheat, it doesn’t mean if your dad cheated all the boys cheat” she tells you to comfort you a little “Either way I have no plans on marriage, but why the sudden question mom do you perhaps plan to get remarried?” you ask her as you stand up to tuck the chair back in to leave but she replies “M-me no I prefer being single’ she said feeling flustered “ So am I mom” you tell her as you now finally make your leave to go to the company

Mark’s POV

Mark was awaken due to his alarm but truth be told he was never actually been able to sleep well ever since the day his heart got broken and maybe that’s the reason why he would drown himself from too much workload or sultry nights with different girls, as he got up he eyes his room that he never thought he would go back to because this was the room that witnessed his lovely passions to his miserable state but he knew he should not dwell into it much because he is different now, this room should no longer remind him of the girl that tore him, he should move on and be stronger to prove to her how she wronged him. Mark decided to take a shower to finally get ready for another dreadful work day, he did not really enjoy working in a corporate world rather he enjoys creating music but due to too much guilt towards his parents and how he gave up on the life he enjoyed with her he decided it was best to follow the footsteps of his parents, honestly it was hard at first but through time he learned that it was not that bad after all, today he wore a grey suit from Armani that perfectly showed his toned body.

Mark did not bother to have breakfast as it was not really his thing even though his mom insists he eats something, he was fetched by his secretary Taeil and the car ride was rather cold he did not bother to chat with Taeil like would do normally, arriving in the company he was greeted by different department heads right from the entrance and was escorted towards his office, his arrival was a gossip amongst different staffs some saying he was a “playboy”, “spoiled” ,”kind” and many different mixed opinions but one in particular has caught his attention “he got a girl pregnant before they say and the baby died” that caught him in his tracks and immediately diverting his attention towards the girl “What did you say?” he asked with anger filling his eyes making the girl feel small as she was caught red handed “N-nothing s-sir” she said stuttering “Let me just remind you, you don’t get paid to gossip you get paid to work” he said slamming the desk of the girl and immediately heading towards his office Taeil seems to catch on so he gave small apologies towards the people and then following Mark after “S-sir are you alright” he asked the moment he entered Mark’s office but Mark just signaled him to leave to which Taeil cooperated too, deep thoughts occupied Mark’s mind especially since every day he dreams of his baby that died, it always fills him with guilt how it died so soon not even given the chance to see the world.

When Mark’s father knew that he was now in his office he immediately wanted to see his son that he misses so badly, “Mark” his father exclaimed opening his door to which he smiled at “Dad” Mark replies while giving the same enthusiasm “You look great in the office son” he compliments his son to which Mark replied to with a small “Thanks” but since Mark has a meeting soon he tells his dad “I actually have a meeting in about 10 min, let’s catch up later dad” but his dad stops him as he has something really important to tell him and it’s about the most awaited event where there big announcement will be known “I actually have something important to tell you son” Mark raised an eyebrow towards his father at him being so serious suddenly “What is it dad” he asked “We are hosting a charity ball son and I need you to be present” he announced “Yes, you told me” Mark replied “But son this ball will not just be a ball but we will be merging with another company-“ but before his dad can finish his phone rings “Excuse me son” his father said but then left immediately cause he also has a important meeting, Mark just shrugged it and went on about his day as he did not really think of it as something serious.

Y/N’s POV:

You were chilling in your office when your friend Yuna barged in “Y/N,Y/N” he said with a full glee to which you chuckled at “Don’t you have a company to run” you ask her while welcoming her for a embrace, the embrace was rather long with how much you miss each other, well before coming to New York , Yuna was your best friend as you have known each other till you were in diapers “Well I do but it’s lunch time” she said with a smile on her face and a cute doe eyes, you can’t help but giggle at how adorable she is “What brings you here” you asked her while motioning her to sit while you page your secretary to bring you some tea “First of all I miss you and second of all because you are merging with the Lee family and third we need to go shopping for dresses for the ball” she said while pointing her fingers at you “W-wait what merging and what ball?” you asked her very confuse about what’s happening “Oh you don’t know?” she asked again as if she could not believe you don’t know “Well yes idk” you repeated “ Well your mom is merging your company with the company of the Lee’s” you were shocked as your mom did not even bother to tell you “Second they will be holding a charity ball to announce the merge” at this point you really don’t know anymore “When is it” you asked her to which she happily replied to “Saturday”, well it’s basically three days from now “My mom hasn’t told me about that” you tell her as you tea arrived “Thanks” you tell your secretary “Maybe she will, but at least I told you didn’t I?” she said while taking a sip of the tea. Your Mom did indeed tell you within the day that there will be a ball that you need to attend to and it’s with the Lee’s who she wants to merge with, the whole situation made you feel like you are in a very fast paced world because it’s just your first day in Korea yet there are too many surprises that awaits you.

#mark lee #mark lee smut #mark smut #mark fluff #mark angst #nct mark #nct imagines #nct scenarios #rich!kid

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