#count this as what if everything went wrong

[lnlightning81]

Positive P2 [LN4]

Summary : Surprising Lando after a race with the results to your pregnancy test

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count:

Warning/s: Pregnancy, Talk of not being able to have kids

Watching Lando with kids has always been a beautiful sight. However, watching Lando with Mila and Athena was a totally different experience. There was a different connection watching the two of them. Normally, kids cried when they saw Lando because their hero was right in front of them, but with Mila and Athena, he was just ‘Lala’ and not Lando Norris. 

The video of Lando playing with Mila when she was just a little baby throwing his phone about the place had started to circulate your social media; it only made your baby fever start to grow.

You were due to meet Lando at the paddock as he had gone a little early for the media and you just wanted to lie in but it wasn’t until you felt ill that you messaged Lando asking if he had time to quickly come back to the hotel after stopping at the shop for something. To which he replied obviously still in that state of life where you could ask him to murder someone, and he would. 

There was very little chance you could actually be pregnant with not only you and Lando being extremely careful but with you being told that there was little chance of you ever getting pregnant throughout your life but with your baby fever and how you were feeling everything pointed towards that actually maybe coming true. 

Lando had wanted to wait and see the results but you knew that he couldn’t or he’d get fined so you forced him out of the hotel room telling him that he’d be the first person to know. Except he wouldn’t be. If the test came back positive, you had the perfect way to tell him. 

But when you saw that positive result that’s when you panicked, you never thought you’d actually see the day when that test actually came back positive after many years of being told it would never happen. 

Now, standing in the Mclaren motorhome, you still hadn't told Lando the results. You didn’t want to stress him out before a race. Never mind a race when he was starting on the front row with the chance of winning but you did tell Zak knowing the perfect way to tell him after a good or bad race and hopefully he’d be happy with the news. 

Lando finished P2 just as he started. No one was getting past Max Verstappen any time soon, so it was basically a win for him, and you knew he’d say that when asked about it. Zak waved you over, and you walked over to the pit wall standing behind him as he placed his headphones over your ears and pressed the radio button for Lando’s car. Nodding to you with a smile 

“Hey baby. That’s a positive P2” You hummed, hoping he’d catch on to what you were saying without Sky or F1TV or any other showings catching it. 

“Positive?” He asked with a frown. You could hear the frown on his face

“Wait? What are you doing on the radio?” Now very confused as to everything 

“Yep. Positive P2” You smiled

“Zak let me tell you your position for the day” You looked at Zak, who was smiling at you 

“Oh my god, Y/N. This is brilliant. I love you so much!” He exclaimed 

“I’ll see you at the podium baby” You gave Zak his headphones back 

“Got a podium to get to. Let’s go” He smiled, and you walked with him. Zak’s more than just the CEO to you and Lando. He was always a phone call away if anything went wrong or if you didn’t travel out to a race and couldn’t get a hold of Lando the next best person to call was Zak because he’d always answer. 

Zak would invite you, Lando, Oscar, and Lily out for food whenever he got the chance or would send you little gifts during Christmas or your birthday. He was kinda like a father figure to you both. Standing watching the podium next to Zak, you could see how big the smile on Lando’s face was compared to normal. 

Meeting Lando back in his driving room, you were instantly wrapped in a hug with his hands landing on your stomach as he kissed your neck from behind 

“I can’t believe it, baby. You’re serious, right? We’re going to have a baby? I got the message, right?” He asked, and you nodded 

“I’m very serious. We're going to have a baby. I’m so glad you got that message, though. I was a little worried you wouldn’t understand what I was saying” You smiled, turning in his arms as he kissed you properly this time. 

“Oh my god, a little baby. Oh love you’re parent’s. They’re gonna be so happy they’re getting a grandbaby” Lando was very excited as he basically jumped around the room like a little kid in a sweet shop. 

“If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to tell anyone for a few months” you whispered, sitting down on the couch in his driver's room. Lando looked over at you

“Whatever you want” He smiled, and you nodded 

“After being told I probably would never have kids, I don’t want to tell people. There’s a risk that everything might go wrong and I don’t want to tell everyone we’re having a kid to be reminded that actually we aren’t” You explained quietly and he wrapped you in a hug 

“Whatever you want to do we will do darling but I do know that I love you very much and whatever happens will never change my mind but we’ll do it together” He smiled kissing you around your face causing you to giggle from his stubble tickling your skin 

Tag List

@bearryyy

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

#f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x female reader #ln4 fluff #lnlightning81 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you

[ghostofhyuck]

His Car isn't Yours

He’s Mark Lee. He’s smart, handsome, a gentleman — everyone’s ideal boyfriend. He’s everything. Oh my god, girls would die to be in your spot. And yet, you felt uneasy as he took you on a date. 

Oh right. You remember. Mark Lee is not him. 

Word count: 2.5k 

Tags: Fluff, angst. Mentions of NCT Dream Members. Mentions of sexual innuendo (just a few!)

Song Inspiration: His Car isn’t Yours by Wendy

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“How about this?” you asked over the video call. It’s almost seven in the evening and you’re still in your bathrobe, raiding your closet while showing it to your best friend. You couldn’t help it. You’re sweating and nervous. 

“Did he mention where he’ll take you?” your best friend Donghyuck said over the phone. 

“It’s a surprise he said, he just said dress pretty — what does he mean by that!?” 

You heard Donghyuck’s hum for a minute. “Okay, ditch the pants and wear a nice dress and sandals.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver Hyuck,” you said to him before proceeding to find the baby blue summer dress that you rarely wear. It was adorned with white flowers, the skirt being just above your knee and hugging your figure perfectly. 

“Well of course! I couldn’t believe it!” Donghyuck squeals, you can see him jumping in his bed excitingly. “You’re going on a date with Mark, everyone wants him, you know that?”

Your smile faded when you heard your best friend’s comment. As the dress fit onto yours, you couldn’t help but to stare at the mirror. Suddenly, this idea was bad. 

“Yn, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Donghyuck asked. 

“What?” you only laughed, trying to brush off Donghyuck’s words. “No, of course not! You’re crazy.” 

“Great, because this is the perfect opportunity for you to get over that jerk.”

Right. Donghyuck’s right. It’s time for you to get over him. It’s been a few months since you two broke up. It was a disaster and you remember crying in your best friend’s arms for a few hours until you passed out because you were too dehydrated. Donghyuck cursed him and you swore that that night Donghyuck swore all the curses that he could think of because of your ex-boyfriend.

It took you a while to pick up yourselves. Slumping yourself on your academics and studies just to get over him. But no matter how much you tried, there were nights that you cried and wondered, what went wrong with the two of you? You never attempted to move on from him. You’re still holding onto that small hope that maybe. Maybe. He’ll show up in your footsteps and ask for another chance. 

But he didn’t and instead, Mark Lee somehow waited for you outside the hallways of your building, asking you if you two can go out for some coffee. Schemingly, Donghyuck agreed on your behalf, convincing you that you should just try it. 

It was the first time you smiled in months. Mark was nice. He was easy to converse with, and he’s also good-looking to start with. You two enjoyed the cup of coffee, and it ended up with you asking what was his intention. 

“I thought I was being obvious,” he laughs. A shy smile formed on his lips. “I’ve liked you ever since yn.” 

You remember being caught off-guard with his sudden confession, you don’t know why but you feel your cheeks heating up because of it. Maybe, you were flustered by his sudden confession. You watch as Mark shyly looks away, and you don’t know why but a part of you wants to know where this will end. 

That’s where you are right now. Wearing your baby blue dress, doing some finishing touches on your makeup while you’re waiting for Mark to pick you up. You agreed to have a date with him, and for once, you wanted to not mop around because of your ex-boyfriend. 

“Oh wow, you look gorgeous,” Donghyuck compliments. “Hope you get dicked tonight.”

You laughed as you sprayed your perfume on you, “I’m not planning to.”

“That’s sad of you boo,” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue and as you put on your shoes, you hear Mark’s car parking in front of your place. 

“Fuck, okay I got to go,” you said, grabbing your phone to say goodbye to your friend. 

“Goodluck on your date! Tell me the deets tomorrow!” your best friend said one last time before hanging up. You only smile as you grab some few things and place them in your bag. As you went out of your place, you saw Mark leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone. 

You stop midway, remembering that it was Mark who’s picking you up, and not him. It’s Mark, who’s hair is dyed blonde, leaning against his Honda Civic which is a different model that your ex-boyfriend drives. 

You watch as Mark glances at you and does a double take, he puts his phone on his jean’s pocket as he approaches you with a smile. 

“Wow,” he breathes. “You look so beautiful.”

Right. You remembered. That tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you and Mark and the hopes that you may find someone better than your ex.

“Thank you,” you only said. “You look handsome too.” 

Mark lets out a chuckle, “should we get going?”

You only nod as Mark guides you towards his car, opening the car door for you which makes your heart flutter. The seat was comfortable and the interiors of the car looked interesting. Your eyes scanned the inside and noticed how it’s polished clean. Even the smell is nice and not those heavy air purifiers that pierces through your nostrils. 

Mark enters the car, and his hands trail towards the seat belt, placing yours first before his. 

“I’ll just put the music on shuffle, but if you want, you can connect your phone if you want to play any songs that you want,” he said, pressing play on the car’s stereo. 

“I love this song!” you said, humming along the song. 

Mark only smiles as he watches you dance lightly to the song, he revved the engine and started driving. He taps on the steering wheel as you continue to sing. He finds you cute, enticed by the lyrics of the song and even attempting to hit the high note. 

“Oh by the way, where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he teased. 

“Any hint at least?” 

Mark hums for a moment, “it's outskirts of the town.”

You became quiet, wondering what he means by outskirts. It’s either on the hills where the grassfield is clean and a perfect place for a picnic. Donghyuck gossips to you that it's supposedly a perfect hideaway for hookups and sex. 

You glanced at Mark for a second and your heart started beating. There’s no way he’s going to bring you there. It’s too early! But a part of you thinks that Mark isn’t that type of guy who wants you for sex, so maybe it’ll be a wholesome picnic. 

Hopefully. 

But as your mind starts to panic, he turns left which is the complete opposite towards the side, your eyes widen. You know where this is going. 

“We’re here!” he said, parking his car in front of the restaurant. As you step outside, you can feel the wind gently sweeping your skirt. You glanced at the sign. It was neon green, blinking due to its weariness. It’s been years since you went here and a sense of nostalgia hit on you. 

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you said with an amused tone. “I loved this place when I was a kid! I hope they still have their karaoke here.”

“I’m sure it’s still here,” Mark said. “Should we get inside?”

The interiors are still the same as when you were kids. The smell and the vibe, it’s all there! You see the karaoke on the diner’s corner and you can see that it’s still working, just waiting for a patron to drop a coin and pick a song number. 

You and Mark chose the seat on the corner of the restaurant. It has a couch instead of the usual chairs, that’s why it’s more comfortable for both of you. The restaurant wasn’t that crowded with people, but it was still bustling with noises. 

After the waitress wrote down your orders, your eyes couldn’t stop scanning the place. It is a memorable place for you. Your parents always bring you there on your birthdays or whenever you get good grades. You weren’t able to return to the restaurant ever since your parents moved to another country for work. You long forgotten about the restaurant too, that’s why it was a surprise that Mark brought you there. 

“How did you know about this place?” you asked. 

“This has been a popular restaurant ever since I was kid,” Mark explained. “I was craving their chicken and fries that’s why I brought you here.”

You laughed at his explanation but you saw his genuine side about it, “thanks. It’s been a long time since I went here.” 

Mark only smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you loved it.”

As your order arrived, you and Mark downed on the food while at the same time continued your conversation. You two recalled the memories you two had when you were kids. Even listing down the songs you used to sing at the karaoke. Mark was convinced that at some point, when you two were kids, you two met at the restaurant. 

Halfway through the slice of strawberry shortcake that you two ordered. You decided to be bold, standing up and approaching the karaoke. 

“Are you going to sing dear? The songbook is on the side,” the waitress said with a bright smile. 

You gave her a smile, “I hope my favourite song is still here.”

As you pressed the number, you were surprised that Madonna’s Crazy for You is still listed. You placed down the coin and the familiar tune began to fill the air. Applause from the customer began as you sang the lyrics.

You swayed along the song. You watch as the customers stood up and danced along with you. You turned around and saw Mark, smiling at you and even mouthing “wow” making you smirk as you winked at him. You continued to sing, feeling the rhythm, and then a bright idea popped into your mind. 

Slowly, you approached Mark, who at first was embarrassed, but after much convincing from the crowd, he stood up and danced along with you, earning cheers from everyone. As the song ends, you let out a small bow and were about to return to your seat when Mark pulled you. 

“Hey, sing with me on this one?” Mark said. You watch as he pressed some number and as soon as he dropped the coin, your heart shrunk.

You know this song. You know damn well this song. Because this is your song with him. The upbeat song of Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now filled the room and you watched as Mark sang the first line. Fuck. He used to sing it with you, because he likes the song so much.

It quickly grasped into your mind that it was Mark who’s you’re singing with, you plastered a smile as you sang along the lyrics. In the eyes of the crowd, you two look like a couple. Two teenagers in love and having the best moment of their life, especially when Mark grabs your hand and twirls you before singing the bridge of the song. 

You managed to finish the song, and the crowd cheered, even shouting “Kiss!” from them. Mark tried to brush it off, and you only let out a bitter chuckle because of the awkward situation. 

After that whole singing session, you and Mark have called it a night. You were in a daze as you two exited the restaurant. You only snapped out of it when Mark held your hand and intertwined his fingers around it. 

“Did I startle you? Sorry,” he was about to let go when you squeezed it lightly.

“No, it’s okay, my energy was just low because of the karaoke,” you explained, smiling at him.

“I had fun,” Mark said with a sincere tone. “I’m really glad that we went there.”

“Well, thank your chicken cravings then,” you teased, making him laugh. 

As you two drive to your place. You two fell into a peaceful silence. You only watched as you passed by around the town. You couldn’t help but to lean on to the car window. 

Tonight was fun. Being with Mark was fun. But as you sit there in silence your heart couldn’t help but to yearn for him. It’s hard. You wanted to cry and to let out all of your emotions. You wanted to blame him, because right now, he’s occupying your mind when it should be Mark who’s sitting next to you. 

And as soon as Mark parks his car in front of your place, you couldn’t help but to stare at your apartment. 

“You okay?” Mark asked. 

That made you glance at him, “me? Of course, why?”

“You seem to be in very deep thoughts earlier,” Mark explained. “Wouldn’t mind telling me what it is?”

Mark is sweet. He was a gentleman, not to mention, a really popular guy in your university. Everyone wants him. Girls are lining up for him and would die to be in your place. And yet, you couldn’t find yourself lucky that he likes you. 

Because Mark is not him. No matter how nice, sweet, and good-looking Mark Lee is. He is not the one you love. And you hoped that this night may change it, but no. He’s still occupying your heart. 

“Listen Mark,” you breathe out. “You're sweet and caring, I had fun tonight but…” 

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, you couldn’t bear to hurt Mark after you two just went out. It felt like a jerk move to do so. 

But a part of you wants to be frank with him too. 

“I just, I don’t think I’m not ready to be in a relationship,” you confessed. “If ever we’ll be together, I wanted to make sure that I can give myself to you but right now —”

“You haven’t moved on from Jeno, haven’t you?”

There it is. Mark mentioned his name and you can feel your heart beating nonstop. God, your ex-boyfriend had you wrapped around his fingers

“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that you could say. 

“No, it’s okay yn,” Mark chuckles. “It’s my fault too, I pursued you too early.” 

“No, oh my god. It’s just —-” 

“It’s fine yn no worries,” Mark gives you a smile, making you feel more guilty. “But that doesn’t stop me from pursuing you, you know that? I’ll be waiting until you’re ready.” 

You could only let out a small smile, but in a split second you leaned onto him to give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you Mark, I enjoyed our date tonight.” 

“I’m glad you did.”

You bid goodnight to Mark. you gave him a smile one last time before going inside your apartment, as soon as you close the door, you couldn’t help but to lean against the door as you hear his car’s engine slowly fade into the background. You can still feel the coldness of the ac, and the scent of the lavender purifier of Mark’s car lingered on you. 

But it felt different. Weird. Unfamiliar because you know that Mark’s car isn’t his. 

Pt. 2 Jeno’s POV coming soon.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct mark #nct mark fic #nct mark fluff #nct mark imagines #nct dream mark #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic #mark lee x reader

[thelittlelegends]

THE LITTLE LEGENDS

This is a blog for sharing and spreading love for the smaller Zelda games in the fandom!

For everyone crying over Spirit Tracks being forgotten, to people who wish someone else remembered the struggle to find a fourth player for Four Swords or sobbing at the end of online co-op for Tri Force Heroes – this is a home to join others in that love. Mainline and third-party Zelda games are all included!

The criteria for which Zelda games count as “small” is hard to quantify. To make things easier, we went by the numbers posted to Archive of Our Own, which has the option to disambiguate which game you’re writing for and is the current best-known fanfiction site. From there, we removed some things to try and narrow it down to core game fics and picked everything that was under 1000 works.

The resulting list of Zelda games is as follows:

CDI games = 14

Zelda cartoon = 29

Cadence of Hyrule = 50

Tri Force Heroes = 51

Oracle of Seasons = 76

Oracle of Ages = 85

Zelda II: Adventure of Link = 93

Zelda (1986) = 180

Spirit Tracks = 183

Phantom Hourglass = 191

Link’s Awakening = 256

Link to the Past = 260

Minish Cap = 290

Four Swords = 359

Four Swords Adventures = 423

A Link Between Worlds = 587

Wind Waker = 739

Some of this will be a case of poor tagging, and things winding up in the wrong place. (eg. Four Swords has 1200 entries, but upon removing all Four Swords Adventures or Manga story tags it reduces to 359.) Others may not be here at all because nobody has posted it under it’s own name vs a related game or “& Related Fandoms.”

While this means these numbers are not absolute, they still represent the problem: it’s hard to find content for your favourite games if it's in the list above, and we want to fix that!

WHAT DOES THAT ENTAIL?

The event we’re planning is very chill, very low-stakes way of building up interest and knowledge, and then collecting and sharing fanworks produced.

The event month will be AUGUST, 2024.

Every few days in August we’ll make a post for each game on the list (and any bonus games that were highlighted alongside the main ones), which people can reblog with a link to the fanwork they created! You can also make your own posts and tag the blog plus the game of the day but we cannot promise to see and reblog everything.

In the lead-up to August, we will be doing round-up posts for each of the above games.

Some will be doubled up and treated as “bonuses” due to their small pool of fans (CDI, the Cartoon), and if there are some we don’t know about we may take them on as suggestions!

Each of these initial game posts will include basic stats about the game: when they were released, on what hardware, where you can find them now, and what their story was. It will also include links to a walkthrough or two, for those without access to the necessary hardware.

The purpose of these posts is to be shared!

Reblog them with your favourite artwork, current fanworks you love and adore, your favourite AU they’re featured in! Share the lore you wish everyone knew, and the characters who get forgotten!

Share prompts you’ve never gotten around to using, or ones you don’t feel competent to handle!

Do not feel bad about doing this! Every exchange or event I’ve been in, people desperately wanted prompts and ideas to spark their own imagination!

The goal is for people to learn more about games that they may have never heard of before, or not had the time or ability to engage with in full on their own. And from there we can push up those numbers on AO3 for everyone to enjoy!

The scheduled games to be “main” features of this event, and their respective introductory dates, are as follows:

May 5th = Minish Cap

May 12th = Zelda II: AoL

May 19th = Oracle of Ages / Oracle of Seasons

May 26th = Cadence of Hyrule

June 2nd = Phantom Hourglass

June 9th = Four Swords Adventures / Four Swords [Game]

June 16th = Link’s Awakening

June 23rd = Zelda (1986)

June 30th = Link to the Past

July 7th = Tri Force Heroes

July 14th = Spirit Tracks

July 21st = Link Between Worlds

July 28th = Wind Waker

Exact dates for the posting schedule of new fanworks in August will be released soon!

#the legend of zelda #tloz #minish cap #lozmc #adventure of link #zelda 2 #oracles games #oracle of ages #oracle of seasons #ooa #oos #cadence of hyrule #coh #phantom hourglass #lozph #four swords adventures #four swords #fsa #loz fs #link's awakening #loz la #loz 1 #classic loz #tloz 1986 #a link to the past #alttp #tri force heroes #loz tfh #spirit tracks #loz st

[vantekoos]

Thought of a cute yet angst kind of drabble so here it is!

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Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: angst, smut

Word Count: idk I forgor 💀

Summary: Jungkook made you mad so what's better than trying to communicate with his girlfriend? Bringing a huge boombox to her house to beg for her forgiveness.

------------------------------------------------------------

Okay. You have to admit.

Maybe you were being a little bit extra with what's going on, but who can blame you?

Your boyfriend of five years wasn't exactly ugly and you were a little insecure with how any woman throws themselves on him. So when you both went on a date weekend to the movies and he did absolutely nothing to stop his ex from hugging him and flirting, it irked you a little.

Well, a lot.

Enough to argue with him the whole ride home and block him on everything because he doesn't see his wrongs.

However, Jungkook did manage to find ways to try to talk to you by making fake accounts and stealing his friend's phones to text you.

You just needed space for a bit and that was okay, right?

Wrong.

So wrong because you missed him so much.

His smile.

His laugh.

The way he treated you like a princess out in public and in bed.

Because of your actions, you had to suffer the consequences.

Beside your bed was your newly charged vibrator that you bought before your fight with Jungkook so he could use it on you.

Before you have a chance to even think of using it, a knock is heard at your window along with two thumps that sound like pebbles. Your brows furrow when you leave bed to look outside your window to see your boyfriend standing outside.

"What are you doing?" You sigh when you open your window.

Jungkook looked tired and confused, but he had to get you back in his good graces. He brought flowers, candy, and a huge boom box sitting on the grass.

"I'm sorry baby. I've tried to call you and do everything but you got so mad at me-" he rambles before sighing loudly.

This was killing him to fight with you and it breaks his heart.

"I got mad because you let your ex hug you and flirt with you while we were together," You state rather bluntly. Thinking about the fight made you upset again.

"Baby, look. I love you and only you. No one else!" Jungkook tells her desperately.

Of course, you were convinced, but who knows if he'll do it again.

You cross your arms and sigh at his excuses.

Though, Jungkook wasn't done.

He places the flowers and candy on the ground before picking up the boombox and pressing play. He holds the boombox over his head and you could tell that he was nervous.

Playing on the boom box was Breaking My Heart By Mint Condition which had to be a song you two would always love to sing together.

You couldn't help but bite a laugh back and cover your smile.

It's cute because he most likely saw this in a movie or had the idea from a friend. You look down the street to see if your neighbors could hear and sure enough, their porch lights were turning on with the dogs beginning to bark from how loud it was.

You couldn't hold back your laugh anymore and broke from the serious glare you gave him.

"Jungkook, turn it off," you chuckle but Jungkook persists.

"Forgive me then."

Oh, he was insane.

"You're forgiven! Now come in before the cops get here," you shoo him over to you with a grin on your face. He turns the boom box off and grabs the flowers and candy before heading to the front door.

You welcome him inside with a soft kiss to his lips almost as if you've been craving his touch. He drops his bags to the ground with a loud thud before engulfing you in his embrace.

"You missed me a lot, didn't you?" He mumbles against her lips, pushing her back to her room to lay her on the bed. He doesn't even wait to tear apart his shirt, grabbing your hand so you could feel his chest.

"Shut up," you roll your eyes with a chuckle to follow. You sit enough to pull your shirt off so Jungkook can take off your bra for you.

One thing about Jungkook was that he loved your boobs.

He leans down to latch his lips along your nipple. sucking and nipping your mounds while he sneaks his hand lower down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy.

He pushes past your panties and rolls his fingertips through your lower lips. You couldn't help but release a sweet moan of his name in a whisper.

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper but he didn’t really care to listen. You made him suffer for a whole week. He was going to do whatever he wanted with you.

He trails his tongue from her nipple to her neck, biting her skin at her neck enough to leave a purple hue on her skin. He knew how much you liked to be known to other girls as his girlfriend so why not mark you up?

He presses his fingers to her clit, rubbing slow circles against her sensitive pussy just to get her wet enough for him. He needed to fuck her tonight. He craved it.

“How should I have you tonight?” He whisper before sliding his hand from her pussy to taste her on his fingers.

His eyes shift to the nightstand that held the vibrator and it was like a light bulb when off in his filthy mind. “Get undressed,” he pats her thigh before leaving the bed to take his pants off.

You didn’t waste any time pulling off your pajama pants to be left completely bare for him in the bed. How was he going to have you tonight?

Cowgirl?

Missionary?

Doggy?

Fuck, you needed him asap.

You reach down to touch your sensitive bud, rolling your fingers slow enough to get any satisfaction from this wait.

Jungkook tosses his boxers and pants on the ground and prys your legs open when he kneels between your legs. His dick was hard, long, and curved that you knew you wouldn’t last.

He grabs the base of his dick and spits on his length to rub it along his length.

“Come on,” you sigh, grabbing your boob with one hand.

Jungkook bites his bottom lip and alines himself to you before sliding in slowly.

A moan of content is shared when he rolls his hips in and out. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth when he finds his rhythm that you both loved.

“Grab the vibrator,” he instructs, but that addition would make you fall even more apart.

You whine and grab the toy, turning it on medium before pressing it to your clit. You squirm a bit in his hold, clenching onto his length at the new sensation,

“Oh baby…” you cry.

“Feels good Hm?” He grins. God, he was deep. Enough to hit that sweet tender spot over and over again to make you see stars.

And Jungkook seemed to feel the same when his thrusts grow sloppy and his breathing grew quicker. The vibrator was tosses to the ground when you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him close, gripping the bedsheets when you finally climax.

“Oh fuck!” You squeal before exhaling in relief from cumming.

Jungkook slows his hips until he comes to an abrupt stop, having him groan from his throat when he cums. His body was sweaty but he wore a smile on his face nethertheless.

“Fuck, I love you. I’m so sorry for everything,” you apologize softly.

“Don’t be sorry. I won’t hurt you like that again,” he shakes his head.

He leaves the bed to start a bath, but you couldn’t help but to think how lucky you were to have a crazy yet romantic boyfriend who would get a boom box to win his girlfriend back.

—————————————————————————————————

I couldn’t figure out how to end it but all well! This isn’t my best so best with me💀

Exciting news! I graduated college and I’m going to grad school now (yay harder school)

I will be around during the summer so more drabbles in the future

#bts #kpop #jungkook #bts jeon jungguk #bts x reader #jeon jungkook is just so hot tho #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut

[smartycvnt]

Title: Talk It Out

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word Count: 984

You felt like everything was a bit too much. You had been fed loss after loss on the biggest stages offered. Tonight, however, it felt a little more personal. You hadn't been up for a championship, but it was your first time wrestling in your hometown in nearly five years. You had hoped for a win, to be hailed as a winner in your homecoming match, but instead, you had been humiliated.

You didn't know where you were going as you stormed off backstage. Everybody avoided you like the plague. Anger and discontent radiated off of you in waves. The looks of pity only made it all worse, so you went to the one place where nobody else would know to go.

The years spent working at this venue as a teenager had paid off well. All of the old secrets you had discovered were left how you remembered them. The stairwell leading up to the roof was still well hidden behind a janitor's closet door. You made your way up there, not expecting to be followed. It was supposed to be your chance to truly be alone for a few moments.

"Ash," Rhea called out softly. You didn't turn to look back at her. Still, she approached and sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a fucking loser. He told me things would be different, and the first major live event we have here, I get fucking squashed," you ranted. Rhea placed her hand on the small of your back. Usually, you would have leaned into the touch, but you couldn't handle any more humiliation. "Rhea, don't."

"What?" Rhea didn't bother hiding her surprise. You always leaned into her embraces and touches. It was a simple pleasure that Rhea could always count on. Her feelings for you had always kept her up at night. There was always a little voice in her head shouting at her to say or do something, but Rhea never did.

"I can't handle any more humiliation, so please just don't. Go downstairs and forget that I even came up here," you told her. Rhea's brows knit together in confusion. You sounded desperate and conflicted.

"What's humiliating about being comforted?" You had always been one to champion getting help when you needed it. Rhea knew that she'd be so much worse off mentally if it wasn't for you. You preached self love and care like nobody else, so Rhea really didn't understand why you were pushing her away when it was obvious that you needed someone.

"What happened to being kind to yourself? What happened to accepting love and comfort when you can't give it to yourself?" Rhea asked. She didn't mean to sound so angry with you, but she couldn't help the raising of her voice. You flinched away a little, just as much as you could without moving out of her arms.

"Rhea, please," you pleaded.

"Talk to me. Tell me what's going on," Rhea said. You dropped your head against her shoulder and turned to try and hide your tears. Rhea could feel them soaking through the fabric of her shirt. In that moment, everything around you was Rhea. You relished in the momentary comfort that her presence granted you before it was ripped away. You hated that you got so in your head about Rhea. The two of you had been friends for years, and your feelings had never gotten in the way before.

"I love you," you mumbled against Rhea's skin.

"I love you too, Ash." The way that Rhea said it broke your heart. You had heard it a million times before, and it didn't sound any different. She had obviously heard you, but Rhea didn't understand. Once again, she felt your hot tears begin to soak into the collar of her shirt. "What's wrong? I hate seeing you like this. Tell me what I can do to help."

"You can't do anything. You've got Dom, and I'm stuck here by myself. There will always be a long line of people who come before me, and I thought that I was okay with it, but I'm not. I love you, and I want so much more than what we've got." You were practically sobbing into her at this point. Rhea gently cupped your cheeks as she pulled your face out from the crook of her neck.

"I need you to look at me. I need you to listen to me, not just hear me, but listen, okay?" Rhea gave you a moment to compose yourself before she spoke again, "I love you too. I feel the same way about you, okay?"

"Y-you do?" You couldn't believe it. You needed to hear Rhea tell you again. It would have been your luck for her to not mean it and start laughing in your face. However, that never came. Instead, you felt the gentle press of her lips against yours. You kissed her back, just as gently as she kissed you.

"I love you. I'll say it a million more times if I have to, but there are better ways for me to show you," Rhea laughed nervously. Your eyes lit up as her words registered in your brain. "Let's get back down there. A lot of people are worried about you, and if I kiss you again, I'm not sure that I'd be able to stop myself from doing more. I've wanted this for a long time."

"Me too." You smiled at Rhea as the two of you stood up and made your way back down to everybody else. Rhea had you tucked under her good arm as she walked you to the locker room so that you could get out of your gear and into your regular clothes. A few people came up to check on you, but they kept a decent distance because of Rhea's proximity to you.

#wwe x reader #wwe #my writing #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #one shot

[translucent-sun]

“I will head in for an early night,” Obi-Wan said. It was barely past seven, but the landing was planned for 4 a.m. sharp, and the attack as soon after that as was possible. “We should get all the sleep we can get before tomorrow.” It was a lie, really. He wasn’t tired, and even if he was, he felt that sleep would be impossible. 

Meditation, though, was what he needed. Even with their plan, he knew tomorrow wouldn’t be easy. 

A choir of “Goodnight, General,” broke out among the handful of men he had been sitting and talking with for the past couple hours. It had been intended to be one last talk-through of tomorrows mission, gathering everyone who would handle the most important details. Though after that, it quickly turned into a happy get together, the prospect of tomorrow being the last thing on everyone’s mind. Or everyone pretended that it wasn’t. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. “Goodnight,” Cody said with a nod, which Obi-Wan returned before making to leave.

“Goodnight, boys,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Finally in his quarters, the quiet was almost overwhelming. The past hours had been a much-needed distraction, a welcome one, but now it made everything feel even more. More difficult, more serious, like there was so much more at stake. He settled down on the round pillow he’d placed in the middle of the room, preparing for his meditation. He needed to ground himself, sort his thoughts, remember his place within the Force.

He would never admit it, but in moments like this, the feeling of anxiety was almost all-consuming. If he didn’t remind himself that the Force would guide him, the fear would eat him alive. Many of the clones who would fight tomorrow’s battle hadn’t had much chance to prove themselves yet—they were spared from having to do so. But that only put the stakes higher. 

He tried to shake the thoughts off, but they kept drifting. To the clones. To Cody. Obi-Wan inhaled deeply. When was the last time he’d found meditation so difficult? He smiled when he remembered his teen years, feeling the same anxiety. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus. But instead of focusing on not thinking, all he could think about were Cody and the others. With a groan, he gave up. He might as well lie down and close his eyes. Maybe he could trick his body into thinking he’s tired.

The morning was an early one, filled with preparations before the landing, moving everything and everyone where they were supposed to be. 

And then it all happened so quickly. Everything went according to plan, until it didn’t. What was supposed to be the battle to end all battles, the one that Obi-Wan had declared only moments earlier to be the battle to end all bloodshed, quickly became a battle of bloodshed so major, it exceeded everything he’d heard about Hypori. 

How could everything go so wrong? How could they have missed such a major detail? There really was no time to worry about any of this now. The only thing that should be on his mind now is survival. Survival of his men, survival of Cody. His own, so he could protect them. Protect him. 

Cody had already saved his life earlier, even before everything went south, and he would not let his bravery go to waste. They’d already lost too many men, too many lives, and Obi-Wan felt as each of them was ripped away, like a candle being suffocated within the Force, its light extinguished. There have been hundreds of those candles now. He’d stopped counting about ten minutes ago, afraid that the pain would overwhelm him. He would not let the same happen to Cody. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The meaning of that became increasingly clear to him. 

There was no time to dwell on those feelings, though, as he received the comm to clear the bridge. They were preparing to blow it up. 

“I still have wounded on that bridge!” he called back, pleading. The only reply he received was another warning. “Where is Commander Cody?” He was sure that the desperation in his voice was audible, but he didn’t care. A crackling through the comm, then finally an answer in the voice he’d always recognize, even though it was shared by thousands.

“On our way off. Now move, General!” 

Obi-Wan had never felt so much relief in his life. 

It felt like the battle and everything following lasted for hours. Ages. A never-ending nightmare.

Though now, as he was sitting and watching the sun rise above the ocean, he remembered that he’d seen the sun start to rise before everything even started to go wrong. That only made it worse, though. All those lives lost in the matter of what, twenty minutes? Less? The Jedi existed to protect. What was his purpose if he couldn’t protect? What was the point of any of this? The sun kept rising, and Obi-Wan almost couldn’t believe that it still could. So much could happen, and the sun would still rise, announce day after day, without ever stopping, no matter what it’s witnessed the day before. So terribly gorgeous. 

He heard footstep approaching behind him, but he didn’t have the energy to turn.

“The evacuation ships are here,” he heard Cody say, faintly, as though he was far away. For a long moment he didn’t answer. And Cody waited patiently. 

“Will you sit with me?” Obi-Wan asked quietly. “Just for a moment?” Without a word, Cody came closer, lowering himself into the grass beside him. They sat in silence for quite some time before Obi-Wan finally found his voice again. 

“We lost so many men today, so many–” his voice broke off. He took a deep breath before he continued. “I was so scared to lose you, too.” He spoke so quietly, he wasn’t sure if Cody even heard him over the noise of the engines and the shouting, his own ears still ringing. Cody didn’t answer, didn’t look at him for a long moment. 

“I tried to keep a lookout on you, and every time I lost sight of you, I was terrified,” Cody finally admitted, facing him. “But I’m here, and you are here, too.” Cody put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, firmly squeezing his shoulder between the gap the armor left. He could almost hear Cody comment on it, telling him how– 

“Not really effective, is it?” he asked, squeezing the spot again. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but chuckle, the dark cloud in his mind not quite lifting, but a few stray rays of sun piercing through. He really knew Cody so well by now. 

Cody cocked his head in confusion, frowning. “What?” 

“I knew you would say something like that the moment you touched my shoulder.” Obi-Wan sighed, his gaze lingering on the sky for a moment longer before turning to Cody. “Besides, I could say the same about yours.” Obi-Wan poked the exposed fabric on Cody’s upper arm. “Dead.” Then he gestured towards his neck. “Dead.” Finally, he tapped the upper edge of Cody’s leg armor, pointing towards his exposed thigh when Cody looked down. “Dead. Major arteries, easily accessible.” Cody rolled his eyes.

“So you might as well leave everything exposed, makes sense,” he teased, and Obi-Wan smiled. 

Five minutes with Cody, and the weight on his shoulders already felt less crushing. Present, but bearable. 

Maybe the sun was right, to start each day fresh, to give it another chance. 

“Are you okay?” Cody asked quietly. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, his smile not wavering as he lowered his head.

“Thank you,” he replied, ignoring his question. When he finally looked up at him, his eyes locked on Cody’s chest. He brought his hand up to it, planting it firmly across it. Cody looked confused. 

“For what?” Obi-Wan was still looking at the orange paint, at the sun’s ray peeking through his fingers.

“Just, thank you,” Obi-Wan repeated. From the periphery of his eye he saw Cody watching him, his confusion again changing to worry. He decided to ignore it, already rising. “Come on, before they leave without us.” He reached out his hand to Cody, and he took it.

#abrion bridge #commander cody #codywan #obi wan kenobi #from the codywan thing im attempting to write #star wars

[deluweil]

To be honest the way part of the fandom has treated this Tommy character as a god makes me dislike him more. Unfortunately the Buck bi arc was tainted for me because it all feels force. Also what doesn't help is that Eddie was to much involved in that storyline.

The way people are acting like it's a perfect relationship and yet we barely saw them together feels just weird.

Also I don't like how some literally push Eddie away for this new white man.

This is Taylor Kelly all over again. The sad part is that the season is short and people wAnt to to spend their time giving more to the new guy.

I hope him and Marisol are gone, but I'm afraid. These two characters took the joy out of the Buck and Eddie storyline for me.

The fandom, I think, in this case, is definitely the problem here,

Lou is completely unassuming and enjoying the process and being a buddie shipper just like us - if one actually bothers to read the interviews and not just pick and choose what to talk about.

That is what makes me like Lou.

The fandom has somehow glorified Tommy's character after a couple of episodes and yeah it rubs the wrong way, because, what about the story we had so far?

Is season 7 a reset to 911? and everything that came before that doesn't count? Why not just make it 911 abc pilot then?

I don't think that's the case, but I think the last minute switch between Buck and Eddie kind of ruined it for the Tim because, yes, in a way it feels forced and out of left field.

Supposed that Buck was indeed vying for Tommy's attention, why do it like that? and why involve Eddie in the first place?

I have a lot of questions and my main problem here is not that Buck is experimenting with Tommy, it's the way they practically propelled this ship off the cliff into a dangerous spin, they went from zero to 200 in a second. - That is not how you build a relationship.

You don't try to figure out what you want, mess up the first date, then invite said date to an apology coffee and then invite him to family wedding on the way. It just doesn't work that way.

I may be straight, but I have gay and bi and lesbian friends, neither one of them has ever brought a second or even a third date to so much as a friends get together before they were sure that this is something that would last, before they brought the intended victim to be judged by friends and family.

And people who talk about Tommy as being established in the 118 family, that is not true. He has a connection with Chimney in that that he owes him his life and an acquaintance with Hen, who is clearly not very fond of him, because of obvious past she had with him and their old house before Bobby came into the picture. - Remember - Chimney was her ONLY lifeline in that house.

Tommy was not a liked character before.

Arguably Buck had more history with Taylor than he did with Tommy (which is none at all) - But Taylor is a strong opinionated and often self-serving woman (not unlike Buck mind you), emphasis on woman. - That is the only reason she never stood a chance. Because the writers could have made her and Buck the greatest love story this show has seen, but they continuously managed to ruin any fondness for any female LI to ever grace that set.

And this season is short, to bring in a new LI kinda defeats the purpose of re-establishing the team and this show, because it does feel the same as any of Buck's old relationships that were being pushed for the benefit of 'god forbid Buck actually learns how to be alone and healthy and happy' - the only thing that changed in Buck this season is his sexuality and nothing else, and that vexes me.

My problem is not with Tommy, it's the perpetuation of 'poor baby Buck' society. - I love Oliver and I love Buck - I am tired of the ever repeating pattern of forgiveness for his self serving ways without any accountability that we keep seeing.

I don't think Buck's or even Eddie's firsts or you know what? even seconds should be each other, I am more than happy to make this journey with them, but let it be a marathon not a sprint to the finish line - they knew they would get renewed for another season, they could have written and built it better than what we got - because the moment they switched gears after the second episode, the story became written in the same messy last minute way both S4 and most of S5 were written.

There is no grand plan, at this point they are merely winging it and see where the wind takes them. - And that is idiotic, they had SO MUCH TIME to make this a well written story with the strike and long break after that, to write as they film is lazy and stupid and mostly childish.

And yes this is Taylor all over again, not in that they are the same type of people, but that Buck is jumping head first into a relationship without actually knowing how he got there. - Bobby said that himself - and it is the same, because who in their right mind invite a second (kinda) date to a family event? Like dude have you ever dated before? Do you how this works?

It is a LOT of pressure and not even for Buck himself - because he brought this on himself - but rather for Tommy (aka the intended victim) to be first introduced to the family after a couple of dates when he himself has no idea where he and Buck are standing.

Marisol, has indeed sucked the joy out of the Eddie's story, I don't get why do either of the boys had to be in a relationship starting this season to begin with. Like, she is literally a handbag, the token hetero symbol, so to speak, what she is doing there? is beyond me.

The catholic guilt of her being a nun is bullshit, and as Bobby said himself, Eddie has no problem committing to certain people/things. She serves no purpose this season other than a seat warmer/ glorified babysitter since Buck is otherwise engaged.

They could have gone for Eddie finding his way in the department, Eddie dealing with his mommy issues, Eddie trying to figure out what and who he wants in his life, Eddie trying to navigate Chris' terrible teenage years.

They could have explored the fact that a guy going with his supposed gf/wife in the golf course checking Eddie's hot ass (6X17) - Oh wait, they were going to... the ground for Eddie's coming out was all laid out and they took a sharp turn to left field in the second episode of S7 and made it all about Buck again, because the Natalia actress couldn't come?? what kind of a weak ass reason is that?

And yes, the cliche of receiving the odd white man out (who played a controversial role in early seasons) rather than the regular casted poc male or the guest starring woman, for that matter, better is all kind of f-ed up, but no one would talk about that, of course. 👀

Anyway, I am hoping that whatever is coming next will be worthy of our time and attention because so far we got about more of the same as far as Buck and Eddie are concerned - except that Buck has just broaden his variety and has a bigger pallet of mate choosing at his disposal.

I have two very close bi friends, so I know how their minds work, because God knows they share with me more than I ever wanted to know lol. And one of them is watching 911 with me and she is happy for the rep as well, but unhappy with how it was developed too.

At the moment, I have decided to put any Buck and Eddie topics aside and just want to get the LONG AWAITED Madney wedding, if anyone deserve a happy ending, it's them. ❤️

#911 ask #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #marisol whatever her last name is #buddie #911 spoilers #911 speculation #don't you dare to rb this with an opposing opinion - i don't care that you think tommy farts rainbows out of his ass make your own post #and if you don't like what i write block me so you can save me the trouble of blocking you #not directed to this anon #just a warning to toxic fandom groopies that has done it before - naturally they were blocked #I am entitled to my opinion just like you are entitled to yours #deluweil replies

[sydnikov]

Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you  away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?��

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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[vettelsvee]

SHE'S NOT HANNA | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist | season 1

history series season 2: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

summary: seb overhears di talking with her sister only for him to find out her birthday is next monday... and that he has confused feelings about the intern

word count: 3507

warnings: bad language. mention to threesomes. much disrespect towards diana from a certain driver. narrated on seb's pov. i remind you this is a fictional work and everything you read here is not real.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!

2009 Bahrain Grand Prix Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir

April 25th

Saturday

Sebastian

The qualifying session in Bahrain went well, but it could have gone much better. That third place on the grid for the race the next day could have been a pole position if Rocky hadn't insisted on using the same amount of fuel we would start the race with tomorrow. Even Diana had said that with about two liters less it would have been better!

There was still some tension in the garage because our results hadn't been as expected, but I tried not to dwell on it as I watched the sun begin to set on the horizon, listening to my engineer's analysis and the deafening noises of the mechanics, whom I admired for working tirelessly on Mark's car and mine. The conversation Rocky and I were engrossed in was so fruitful that, to our surprise, we had been analyzing every single piece of data we could extract from the other drivers and, especially, discussing the improvements that could be made the next day for nearly three hours.

Di had been with us for most of the time, with a concentration that pleasantly surprised us. When her phone started ringing, the engineer's insistence that she answer the call, despite her attempts to insist it wasn't important, finally made a move a few meters away from us to take it.

I tried not to pay attention in what the blonde was talking about. After all, it was probably related to her personal life. As I studied the graphs and numbers in front of me, I couldn't help but get distracted when her soft voice, speaking in German, rose slightly:

"Yes, Ame, I understand," she tried to whisper calmly, failing miserably. Many of those present began to look at her curiously, wanting to know what my teammate's call was about. "Don't worry, okay? I'll be home on Monday night so don't get your hopes up too much... it's not like Dad is going to behave differently now that I'm away from home most of the time."

As much as I wished the latter hadn't made me want to know more about Wagner's personal life, I made every effort to focus my gaze and open my ears to the data I was being given, but it was totally impossible.

I hated myself because I couldn't forget about her, especially when all she did was raise her voice more and more, even catching Helmut's attention, who seemed to be in a bad mood.

"It's just another day," she continued, breathing in and out for relaxation. "Don't get me wrong: I know it's my birthday, but after so many years without celebrating it, I feel like it's just another day. Besides," she added, "it's good for me because I can focus on studying during the flight back home."

Listening to that made me completely stop paying attention to the conversation with Rocky, and I blatantly stared at the girl, who was still on the phone. I didn't know how to react to that, but I also couldn't find out much more about what she was saying because, as if she had realized that we were all paying attention to her, she switched to what sounded like Spanish. A perfect Spanish that not even Fernando spoke.

I might have been born to drive because it was the only thing I managed to do well, but... why did she do everything right?

"Seb, are you listening?"

"Uh... yeah."

My response was as calm as possible, but I realized I had failed miserably as the man in front of me began shaking his head, continuing to talk to me about things that had stopped mattering to me several minutes ago. My mind couldn't stop thinking about Di's birthday. Knowing that she hadn't celebrated it for a long time, for whatever reason, made me feel quite sorry, especially when I looked back at the last celebration Hanna and my mother had prepared for me at home.

Seeing that my mind was increasingly wandering, Rocky decided to let me go, but not without reminding me that I should be as calm as possible that afternoon so as not to interfere with tomorrow's results.

That's what he thought, because I certainly didn't plan to end the day in the calmest way.

Quickly, I got up from my seat and headed towards the entrance of the box from the pit lane, running. Seeing Mark standing with his mechanics, his arms slightly crossed and covered in grease up to his elbows, relaxed me a little for some reason; although, deep down, I was dying of nerves to tell him about the idea that had occurred to me and that I knew made no sense, but that I would still like to carry out.

At least someone would rid me of the birds my head had created.

"I know you don't care, but I think I have a very good idea."

"Do you know how to screw over the rest of the teams so we can at least win the constructors championship?"

Was this guy okay, or was stress making him say such nonsense?

"What? No!" I quickly replied while laughing, trying to get to the point and not beat around the bush. "Listen to me, and then you can say whatever you want, okay?" The Australian nodded, so I didn't hesitate to speak. "Monday is Di's birthday, and we're going to throw her a surprise party after the race," I affirmed, convincing myself that everything would go according to my sudden plans.

Webber looked confused, possibly because he was either surprised by my decision or completely agreed with it.

"Have you talked to anyone about this? Is Britta okay with you getting carried away? Are you sure Hanna won't mind? Does Diana know that you know her birthday in on Monday?"

His voice didn't stop for a moment, and I could even hear him getting breathless because he didn't pause for a second to catch his breath. His constant questions were making me more uneasy than I already was, so I didn't hesitate to cut him off.

"No," I began answering each of his questions. "No, and I don't care. Hanna is very understanding about the whole Diana thing, and she's the only thing that matters here; just because my girlfriend isn't the center of my life for once doesn't mean anything, Di deserves it."

"Okay..." my teammate replied, not very convinced, exerting more force in his crossed arms. "What do you need help with?"

Dam., I hadn't prepared anything because I hadn't planned to get to the point where Mark Webber actually agreed with me and wanted to help me with a crazy idea.

"Well... I thought we could do it at the hotel, right after the race," I explained as my mind projected a beautiful party with lots of balloons, a huge cake, and many gifts. "In a calm way, you know Di isn't usually into big parties," I clarified, remembering all the times she had been offered to come party with us, but she had politely declined, not limiting herself to making excuses. "I have to talk to other drivers first to see if they agree. What do you think?"

"Once we're in trouble, do things right," he replied. "Don't worry about anything now. Go talk to whoever you need to, and in the meantime, I'll call the hotel to reserve a large hall where we can all fit and you can fill it with confetti and stuff."

While my relationship with the light brown-eyed man was good, and I knew I could partly be myself when I spent time with him, I hadn't reached the point of trust to beg him for help with something. I suppose he thought the same of me, and now he would surely want to kill me for the mess I had just gotten him into; but he hid it perfectly because his smile never left his face.

"Thanks, Mark," I replied sincerely. "This means a lot to me, and I'm sure it does to Di too."

"Don't mention it, Seb. I'm happy to help you make your favorite paddock girl happy," he said, using the phrase I usually referred to the girl with, giving me a pat on the shoulder.

Immediately afterward, after several more glances and making sure the Australian didn't reveal the plan in front of the blonde, I began my journey through the paddock. Although at first I was a little worried about how reluctant people might be to my proposal, I ended up surprising myself because the vast majority of team bosses, drivers, and various members of the staff from the different teams agreed to come the next day to celebrate Di's twenty-first birthday.

Throughout all that hustle and bustle I avoided Britta, whom I ran into a couple of times. I felt guilty for not telling her what I was planning, but I was aware that she was going to give me hell as soon as she had the chance, and she was going to call me everything but nice. I knew that lately she had gotten much closer to the Austrian, and they had made some plans together, but there were still certain topics that my public relations and I were still avoiding, and that at the least opportune moment were going to come up.

Lewis and Fernando were the most excited to hear the proposal, even encouraging me to keep spreading the news. Others, like Rosberg, almost made me lose my nerves.

"We have to do something that surprises her! Man, it's Di's birthday, and if you say she hasn't celebrated it in forever, we have to make it even more unforgettable!"

Nico was so excited that it seemed like the celebration was for him. He kept raising his arms and that, along with the fact that he didn't stop using the nickname I had given to the girl, just made me angrier and angrier.

I was overreacting, and I couldn't deny that I was getting jealous because of the close relationship he seemed to have with the blonde. The affection with which he spoke about her was by no means similar to the one I had for, for example, Karina.

"Can you calm down for once?" I whispered angrily as I tried to calm his gestures. "You're not five years old and someone just gave you a Tamagotchi, damn it."

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Vettel?"

I felt Nico's penetrating gaze analyzing my expression, which was probably a mess. His words, totally contrary to what I thought he was going to say, were loaded with insinuation and provocation, and he knew it perfectly; I was smarter than him, and I wasn't going to play his game.

Before answering him, I clenched my teeth and forced myself to take a deep breath as I slowly counted to ten, trying to keep my calm as best as I could despite the growing anger that was quickly building up inside me.

"What are you talking about, Nico?" I asked, using the same tactic he was using and fixing my eyes on his.

I didn't understand why he was asking that, especially when he had no idea about my personal life, except that Prater was my girlfriend, of course. Everyone knew that except Diana, and I hoped it would stay that way until I found the right moment to tell her, or until they met each other.

"This whole surprise party for Diana," he continued, not abandoning the provocative tone that was bothering me so much. "Are you sure you're doing the right thing?" he repeated threateningly.

What right did this guy have to question what I was doing or not doing with my personal life? If Roeske barely controlled anything about me, even though that was his job, this jerk wasn't going to do it.

"It's none of your business, Rosberg," I replied flippantly.

My compatriot smiled as if he had gotten what he wanted: to anger me and make me snap.

"I don't know. I just wonder what Hanna would think if she found out about all this. Do you think she would be happy to see you bending over backward to have a stranger kneeled in front of you?"

The mention of my girlfriend made something stir in my stomach.

He knew perfectly well how I was feeling at that moment, and as much as my angry gaze was begging him to stop, he didn't seem willing to. 

"And what do you think Diana would say if your girlfriend showed up unexpectedly at her birthday party? They would finally know about each other's existence, and it would be a perfect gift for your little pet!"

The blond's provocations were starting to go too far. I could feel my jaw tensing and my fists clenching. I was trying to keep my composure, God or whatever exists knew it well, but I couldn't take it anymore. Not anymore.

"Don't you dare talk about Di like that, Nico. You're crossing the line."

"I think I know what surprise you're preparing for Wagner after the party: a threesome with her and Hanna," he continued. "Well, that would be more to make you happy than them."

That comment was the last straw. I wasn't going to allow him to speak badly of either of the two girls, but I wasn't going to say anything at the moment because I knew that the punch I could receive in the face from Rosberg would cause me more problems than, if I was honest with myself, I didn't give a damn about.

Therefore, without saying another word, I turned around and headed towards the parking lot at the same time I heard the comments from the Williams driver calling me a coward, unfaithful, idiot, and a bunch of insults that I tried not to care about but definitely were affecting me more than I wanted them to. I realized this when I reached my car and kicked one of the bins next to it so hard that it was hard for me to walk the few meters that separated it from the driver's door.

On my way to the mall, doubts began to torment me. It was the first time I gave myself the opportunity to think about myself and what it seemed I was experiencing.

Was I being a good boyfriend to Hanna, or was I just behaving like a jerk who sometimes thought of another girl when he saw her? Was that fair to Di, or was it totally normal given the admiration I had for the Austrian?

As I made my way through the streets of Bahrain, what I was most afraid to ask myself was what had begun to flood my mind in a worrying way: did I truly love Hanna, or our relationship had become a habit that I couldn't break out due to the fear of the unknown?

I tried not to think too much about it because she didn't deserve it, but I couldn't avoid it anymore. Since Diana had come into my life in a closer way, I had been avoiding my feelings, and now, now that I finally seemed to recognize that something was wrong with myself, the mental block began to make itself present, along with the tears streaming down my cheeks as I drove in silence except for the constant echo in my head of Nico Rosberg's insults, which hadn't stopped since I lost sight of him.

When I arrived at the mall and parked the car clumsily, in a position that didn't even correspond to the white lines drawn on the asphalt, I took out my cell phone and saw that, in addition to a call from my partner, along with several text messages from her, there were a multitude of voicemail messages from Britta, possibly from missed calls. That only made me feel worse: the woman had only tried to communicate with me for, surely, something important.

I called her, and she didn't take long to answer. Her voice sounded really worried, but I didn't give her the opportunity to talk much because I felt the need to unload everything that had been inside me for so long:

"Britta... I need to talk to you because you are my mother when I don't have mine by my side," I murmured, my voice breaking because I couldn't contain my emotion. "I have so many doubts in my head, and I don't know what to do anymore."

"Of course, I'm here to listen to you. What's wrong? I saw you today in the paddock very excited preparing the party that I found out you're going to throw for Diana tomorrow."

I sighed, defeated and, why not say it, excited by her calm, calm voice, and by her last sentence. My words flowed in such a way that it seemed like I had been preparing them for days, and I ended up revealing more things than I had planned to do at first, including my biggest doubt. She listened attentively, nodding with small articulations as I shared my concerns.

"If I'm in a relationship, and I wanted to punch Diana's father when I found out they didn't celebrate her birthday, it's for a reason, right?"

"Is that what's bothering you?" the blonde wanted to know. "Do you think I didn't already know?"

I tensed up at what I suspected. Sometimes I was worried about how much Britta knew me.

"I know you've been thinking a lot about her, Seb," she revealed, "just as I know that's exactly what's been going through your head for longer than you'd like."

Yes, since the Saturday before the race in Monza, when I accidentally fell asleep in Di's bed.

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing," I finally confessed. "I don't know if this is fair to Hanna."

"Before you're honest with her, you have to be honest with yourself. You can't pretend to have feelings you don't have, and if that's what's making you doubt, you need to clear your mind, slowly, but surely."

She was right, but saying it was easier than doing it. Nor could I afford to think about my love life in the middle of a Formula 1 season that, let's face it, was going pretty well for me.

"Di is different, and I won't deny that I'm attracted to her," I continued to explain, praying that she wouldn't judge my feelings, "but it's in a totally different way than Hanna."

"How so different?" Roeske asked curiously. "Different in what way, Seb?"

"In every way," I replied with determination. "It's as if at the same time they're the same, but at the same time, so different... She's not Hanna, Britta."

A muffled scream on the other end of the phone made me tense up in my seat. At the same time, I began to hear more noise, but I didn't decide to steer the conversation to find out where Britta was so that such a noise could be heard.

"I mean, Di is unique," I continued, trying to explain myself a little better, "and I can't compare her to anyone else. It's going to sound very selfish, but..."

"Say it," the woman demanded.

"I want to find out if what I feel for her is real.”

If even I was impressed by what I had just said, surely the woman on the other end of the call was too.

"Sebastian Vettel," if Britta Roeske said my full name, it wasn't a good sign, "I need you to listen to this carefully," indeed, she was right. "Sometimes, in life, we have to take risks to find out what we want and, moreover, what’s actually made for us."

"What do you mean?"

"That you should be honest and, especially, be careful with your feelings and those of the people you love, or say you love," she added. "If you think what you feel for Diana is more than just a whim, you really love her, and you think that the right thing to do is to fight for her, do it without fear."

If only the answer were easier than a simple yes or a simple no…

I hadn't even hung up on Roeske and I was already in a whirlwind of emotions, fighting with myself about my feelings. There was no doubt that, as much as Britta's words kept swirling in my mind, there was no better advice than one's own.

I didn't want to hurt anyone, and I was afraid of losing people who had become a fundamental pillar in my life over a simple slip-up that would eventually turn into a mistake.

Perhaps, for the sake of the mental health of more than one person, it was best to ignore how much, more and more, I cared about Diana Wagner, and settle for the love I believed was meant for me.

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #formula one #sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 #sv5 #vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel x female oc #sebastian vettel x oc #nico rosberg #red bull racing #red bull f1 #red bull seb #emma stone #diana vettel #history #history sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel history

[slafkovskys]

tarnished ❈ a golden au blurb

summary: in which not all that glitters is gold

word count: < 1k

warnings: angst, brief language

maybe it would have hurt less if he had said goodbye.

that first summer together was supposed to be them. just them. without the pressures of school or hiding from scottie’s superiors or only being able to share kisses in dark corners of bars or the safety of their apartment. their two weeks in atlanta went by fast with one week in the city and another at her grandparents’ ranch, it was only a matter of time before the boys’ teams came calling for development camp.

ryan went first.

she kept up with everything the caps would post to their socials, feeding it through to the gopher’s various media outlets along with the other boys who were at development camps that week as well. she packs a bag and flies up to minnesota the day before he comes home and the day that jimmy’s due to report to st. louis. she hugs her parents goodbye and leaves them with the excuse of an event she was required to attend.

she spends a few hours with him at the apartment before shuttling him off to the airport, giving him the biggest hug and a kiss to his lips. she’s not really thinking about how he holds on a little bit longer or how he looks like he’s fighting a battle in his own head as he turns to check his bags. she gets back into ryan’s car thinking she’ll be back tomorrow to pick up the aforementioned man and she’ll be back for jimmy in a week.

it would have hurt less if they hadn’t found out through social media.

ryan and scottie were both practically itching to have jimmy back the next day. it had been practically radio silence from him the past week, which neither could hold against him because they both knew that this was big for him.

a summer storm was sweeping through minnesota and the two were squished in the hammock on their balcony when ryan’s phone lit up. scottie watches as the screen illuminated his face before his eyebrows furrowed, “what the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” scottie turns her body to stare at ryan, watching as his face morphs through a variety of emotions, “ryan, what’s going on?”

“don’t-” and scottie wishes she had listened as she snatches his phone from his hand. her eyes scan over the same page that he was looking, the one that caused him to go through a handful of emotions within a matter of seconds.

what scottie sees on his phone screen makes her stomach churn. staring right back at her is jimmy’s smiling face flanked by either of his parents. in front of him is a stack of papers and she doesn’t miss the pen in his hand. her eyes trail up to read the caption,

jimmy snuggerud has agreed to terms on a three-year, entry-level contract. #stlblues

“did you know?” scottie’s voice shakes as she can’t tear her eyes away from the screen, “please don’t lie to me. is this some sick joke that you two are playing on me? did he say that he was staying just to go and do this?”

lightning flashes above their heads and thunder rolls through the sky as ryan quickly shakes his head, “scottie, baby, i’m finding this out right now, just like you are.”

“he-” she cuts herself off when a video pops up at the top of the feed. jimmy’s still smiling face takes up ryan’s phone screen once again, only this time he’s smiling at an unfamiliar woman who’s holding a microphone to his lips.

“so, jimmy,” her accented voice breaks through the night, “you originally said that you were going to be staying at minnesota for another year, but here you just signed your elc. what changed your mind?”

“yeah, um,” he scratches the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous, “just the atmosphere this past week, getting to explore the city some, having some talks with the guys, my family-” scottie can’t ignore the sting at those words, “i figured now was the best time. minnesota was great for me, but i feel like i’ve done what i can. nothing holding me there.”

she can’t stop the sob from escaping her lips and ryan rips his phone from her hands, quickly turning it off and gathering the girl in his arms, “he doesn’t mean that-”

“why would he say that then?” she questions, “did i mean nothing to him? did we mean nothing to him?”

ryan stays quiet because he can’t give her an honest answer. he feels as though he was just hit by a train, left exposed and still responsible for cleaning up the aftermath of someone else’s mess. he slips his hand underneath scottie’s shirt and rubs at her spine, trying to let him know that while he can’t explain what was happening, he was still here.

“scottie, it’s going to be okay. we’re going to be okay,” he tries, “we don’t need him-”

“everything is not okay, ryan!” she shouts through tears, “i need him because-”

it would have hurt less if-

“because i’m pregnant, ryan.”

#the golden au #jimmy snuggerud #ryan chesley

[climbthemountain2020]

Flame of Autumn - Chapter 17

Part 18/26 | Ao3

[TW for graphic depictions of violence]

Tilly

The steady dripping was the first thing that Tilly focused on as her eyes cracked open in the dark. 

Dark. It was so dark. 

She blinked once, twice, and groaned at the pain in her head. She went to sit up, but she found she couldn’t, and the clanking of chains immediately alerted her as to why. It smelled like mildew and moss, something deep and earthen and cold and horrible. 

The dungeons, then.

The panic flashed through her just as quickly as the resignation as she remembered what had happened. She’d been so, so stupid, but gods, she had only been able to process the need to help Alanna. She’d been so foolish to open the door with the dogs barking and snarling the way they were. The tears tracked hotly down her cheeks, and she gave herself a moment to cry. She went to tug the bond, but she knew before she did that nothing would be there. 

The handkerchief had been covered in faebane, pressed tightly to her face so that she couldn’t fight back, couldn’t warn Eris away, which meant Beron likely knew everything. 

She forced herself to take deep breaths–the panic wouldn’t help her here. She turned her head to the side and took in the surroundings, dark as they were. Down beyond the bars of her cage, there was a lone torch in what appeared to be a hallway. She could see the faintest outline in light of a door that appeared to be made of heavy iron. She was sure it was locked. She didn’t try calling out; she could tell in the low light that the other few cells filled with open chains and tables were empty. She allowed herself a sob, quiet in the air, as she tried to get her bearings. 

It’s okay. You’re okay. 

Eris had told her about the dungeons of Autumn–two levels, one high one for the basic prisoners to be held, questioned, and perhaps tolerated for a month or two. Then, there was the lower level that could only be accessed through that first one. It was reserved for one purpose only: torture. People didn’t leave that dungeon once they entered. From the fact that there was just the singular heavy door within sight, she gathered she’d been placed alone in that second level. She fought hard against the terror and hysteria clawing its ugly way up her throat at the thought. She was caught between hoping Eris would know something was wrong and come back to save her, and simultaneously hoping he’d stay far away from here. If she’d been found out, then so had he. 

She jumped and the chains rattled around her wrists as the distant sound of male screams came through the heavy door. Her blood chilled, and she wondered if perhaps they had already caught Eris, too. The thought turned her stomach, and she strained to hear, but when the scream came again she could tell it wasn’t him. She was not one to rejoice at the pain of others, but she could have danced for joy at the fact that Eris might still have a chance. Plus, something told her that if they had caught Eris too, they’d make sure she knew. 

She grasped that bit of hope and took deep, grounding breaths. She let her chest fill with the air, counted to seven, then released it slowly. She calmed herself enough to think rationally through it, shoving the hysteria and desperation down deep and locking it tightly away. There was no good outcome for her here. The brothers cared for her, but would they even notice her missing in time? She was sure Eris had told them that he’d instructed her to lie low while he was gone. Would it be too late? Alanna might notice, but what could she do? This brought up another point that was bothering her–had Aradnus remained behind with Beron gone? Was Aradnus on orders from Beron? Had it all just been a ploy to get Eris out of the Forest House?

She didn’t have to wonder long, and the terror grabbed her anew as the door groaned open and footsteps came towards her. She closed her eyes, evening her breathing, and hoping if they thought her asleep then they may leave again. It was another foolish idea, and she choked and gagged and sputtered as a bucket of cold water was thrown roughly over her face. As she blinked the water from her eyes, she was greeted by Aradnus and Beron. 

So they’d been tricked. 

The smile on Aradnus’ face told her all she needed to know about her chances here. 

“Matilda, so good to see you.” Beron smiled at her like a predator surveying prey. She refused to speak, clamping her lips shut and not breaking eye contact with him. “That’s fine. You’ll be talking soon enough. You know, it’s so interesting what glamours can hide.” His smile had turned grotesque. “You’d never know who could be hiding a mating bond,” he leaned in close, “or a child.” Any remaining hope rushed out of her at the reminder. 

He knew. He knew about both, and now he was going to use it to his advantage. She would die in this cellar, and so would their child. 

“Did you know someone tried to hire a Night Court assassin to kill me? The lovely dryad dinner guest we had the other night–have you ever met a dryad before, Matilda?” The nausea churned within her. He did know; of course he knew. “Now, tell me, darling. What could a Night Court assassin possibly gain from killing me?” She refused to speak–wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her fear. 

His eyes darkened, anger clouding them. “If you won’t talk willingly, my second has his ways.” She hated how she flinched as she heard Aradnus crack his knuckles. “You have one chance now, Matilda, to save yourself and my worthless son. Now tell me,” he put his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, “Have you and Eris been conspiring with the Night Court to kill me?” She schooled her expression to the most minute details, refusing to let a single thought slide through. She wouldn’t implicate Rhysand or his court or Eris in this, even if Beron was already certain. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, High Lord.” She spit out, venom coating each word. Let his anger rest on her, and perhaps Eris would be able to tell that something was wrong and have a chance to escape. The wrath in Beron’s eyes flared, and she felt sure he would hit her. He simply drew back. 

“It’s a shame, Matilda. You could have saved everyone so much difficulty.” 

She doubted it. Even if she’d spoken up, betrayed Eris and everyone else, she’d no doubt in her mind her fate was already sealed. 

“I’m not going to tell you a thing.” This time, Beron’s smile was unlike the others–self satisfied, smug, even. 

“Well, you’re right about that. I, tragically, must step away to attend to other things. Aradnus, however, has happily volunteered to watch over you for me. Isn’t that right?” She closed her eyes, understanding fully how this would end. She heard Beron begin walking back to the door. “It’s a shame, Matilda. I think I could have had great fun with you.” She gave him nothing but her silence, and he turned to Aradnus. 

“The guards have the order to ambush and detain Eris as soon as he returns. They’ll bring him here. Get a confession from her by whatever means necessary, then make him watch her die.” 

“With pleasure, my Lord.” She could hear the excitement in Aradnus as he spoke. 

“Have a fantastic time, Matilda.” And the door slammed shut behind him. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her breaths. 

In, out, in, out, in–but she heard the clanking of metal on the table above her head and all thoughts went out of her mind. There was nothing but fear as Aradnus spoke next to her ear. 

“Let’s begin.” 

++++

The earth was swaying back and forth in front of her eyes. 

No, she was swaying. Tilly came to, the pain in her shoulders so sharp it had started to border on numbness. She knew her shoulders had dislocated long ago–she couldn’t even remember how long she’d been hanging at this point. 

Blessedly, she was alone. She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d been taken–there was no light this far below the earth, and the screams of her companions in suffering in the higher chamber happened too sporadically to glean any information on time passing. 

Aradnus had twice forced food and water down her throat, trying to keep her alive for more torture. Part of her hoped it had been days. Eris was only supposed to be gone for two or three, so if it had been more than that, perhaps he knew and was staying away. She was sure if he’d returned that she would know by now–Aradnus would have paraded him in to watch her suffer. 

She cleared her throat, trying to open her eyes to make sure she was, indeed, alone. Only one eye opened, the other still swollen entirely shut from the session they’d had earlier. Her jaw had been broken, too, but it seemed like she could move it enough that it had begun to heal. If she could just get the faebane out of her system, she could heal herself subtly and make this more bearable, but she was sure he’d been putting it in the water he forced down her throat. 

She sighed, trying to squeeze her fingers to get some circulation back into them, but it was no use. She’d been hanging there long enough that all the blood was long gone and they were entirely sensationless–probably for the best, as she was certain she didn’t have a single fingernail left. Aradnus had taken his time with those, savoring the screams he pulled from her for each one.

She ran her tongue over her cracked lips, tasting blood. She could feel her consciousness slipping again–she could only stay awake for a few moments at a time before her body began to shut down.  

Every so often, after it had been awhile since she’d ingested anything, she tried to feel desperately for the bond within her. She could feel it, see it, but it was as though it drifted off into nothing. She still took the time to try and push feelings and words and warnings down it, whether or not it had any impact. 

She thought she’d cried all the tears she could, but she felt more start to slide down her face, cutting tracks through all the blood and grime. She sniffed, getting a noseful of copper and the musty, damp smell of the dungeon, but her heart shattered to still smell the faintest citrus scent of their baby, still bravely holding on. 

I’m so, so sorry, little one. Your mother and father would have loved you so dearly. 

She let her head hang in the dark as she swung around, feet barely scraping the floor as she moved. She choked out a final sob as she let the blessed darkness take her under once more. 

++++

The water drowning her was becoming her typical wakeup call, but it was never any less terrible. At some point, he must have released her from the ceiling without her even waking, because she was strapped back into a chair, her shoulder screaming in pain. She hated the idea of his hands on her at all, but the thought of them on her while she was unconscious was an entirely different form of torture.

“Good morning, princess.” Aradnus sneered at her. His cruelty knew no bounds, and she’d learned over the past however long how much he truly enjoyed hurting others. He gleaned true joy from drawing blood, from hearing screams of anguish. More than once, she’d caught him palming himself through his pants and wished she hadn’t. Most of the time, she refused to speak at all other than the screams and shrieks of pain he drew out of her when she couldn’t stand it anymore. Deep in the throes of it, she reminded herself of what Eris had told her that day in the stream. 

I just blocked it out. I found a place so deep inside me that nothing he did would ever reach it. I held that tiny little bit of myself close, and I told myself that enduring it would all be worth it someday, somehow.

And it would be. She would hold on, burrow deep down within herself, and she would not crumble. She would hold out as long as her body allowed; she would buy Eris time, the very last gift she could give him. 

She’d refused to give up any additional information about Eris, or the Night Court, or herself, choosing to firmly answer with either silence or “I have no idea what you mean.” Even Aradnus, for all his joy in pain, was beginning to become agitated, and she could tell. She wondered if he’d be punished by Beron if he returned and Aradnus had nothing for him. In her half-lucid state, she grinned maniacally at the idea that he thought she’d be easy to break, and that now he was failing. 

He hounded her repeatedly about the brothers, searching desperately for information. Tilly was surprised to find that they had a suspicion about Killian’s family, but she used that surprise to sell that she knew nothing about it, about any of them. He was relentless, asking again and again about everything, but she refused to break. She’d accepted she wouldn’t be leaving these dungeons–that she’d never see the sky or feel the sun on her skin or get lost in those bright amber eyes again–but she would not be taking anyone with her. Every session would reach a breaking point where she’d either pass out, or Aradnus would become so enraged that he’d lose control and push too far, leaving her useless anyway. 

Presently, Aradnus was turned to the table, but she could see him rifling through long, slim knives. She clenched her eyes shut again, but found she was beginning to lose the ability to feel terror, pain, much of anything. She wouldn’t last long this time; they’d be done soon. 

All this past year in Autumn, and this was where it would end. 

She tried to focus her thoughts back to the very beginning, sitting in that room before she’d even seen Eris. She’d been so resigned, so nervous, so unsure, and then she’d been gifted the most precious love of her life. She knew with certainty, even if it ended here, that she’d do it all again to have that time with him. She hoped he would be okay, regardless of what happened to her. She would die here in this dungeon, but if he managed to stay away, he could still live centuries more. 

She thought of his eyes, so curious and filled with joy when he beheld her, or the way they took in all of her as they touched. She thought of his scarlet curls, falling over his forehead as he focused on his book, or while they kissed. She thought of how she liked to tuck them back behind his arched ears, earning that stunning smile of his while they laughed about something. Eris would be okay, as long as he never returned here. He would never be the same, but he would be okay. 

Aradnus had been given strict orders to wait for Eris to return, but he couldn’t put it off forever, and mistakes happened. Perhaps Eris would feel the bond break when she died and know for certain to stay away, or perhaps seek asylum within Night as they’d planned to do with her. At this point, there was no chance he didn’t at least suspect something had happened. That final severing of the bond might be the push he needed to run and not return. She hoped beyond reason that when he’d felt the bond go dark, he’d known something was wrong and gone far away already. 

Aradnus turned to face her with a paring knife, a smile already plastered on his horrible face. Tilly tried her hardest to force the words down the bond. 

Don’t come back, don't come back, I love you, don't come back. 

++++

Aradnus was back again, and Tilly had nothing left to hang on to. Her eyes would hardly open at all; she couldn’t lift her head. She was certain one of her legs was broken, if not both. He ran a finger up her arm, but she didn’t even have the energy to shudder at the touch anymore. Half the time, she was no one at all, floating in a timeless, spaceless chasm of nothing where she was blissfully ignorant of everything. When she was lucid, it was barely so–holding on just long enough to feel short blasts of pain and groaning before she’d be swept back into oblivion. 

“It seems we may be on our last day, sweet one. I don’t think there’s much fight left in you, and your mate is running behind.” She groaned, but it felt far away. Everything felt far away. “I must admit, you’ve held out far longer than anyone imagined you would. I’d thought you might have given up outright, but you fooled us all.” 

She couldn’t even wet her lips to respond, the darkness already drawing her back under. Eris was late–Aradnus had betrayed that fact with his words, and the information clanged through her fog with great clarity. It had been long enough, and that meant he knew to stay away. He’d been smart, and though she was sure it had killed him, he had stayed away. 

“I think we’ll play with some fire today, what do you think? One big finale, hmm?” She could feel him snapping the fitted braziers on her hands and forearms, could vaguely feel them warming. She didn’t care–it didn’t matter. 

Eris was safe. 

There was nothing left for her to do, and she was ready to let go. She wondered if, on the other side, her mother and father and child might be there waiting for her arrival. She wished to see the sky and sun and clouds again, even if it was in death. Longed to hear her mother’s voice, feel her father’s embrace, run her fingers through the bright red curls of the child she’d never even had the chance to meet. 

She could feel the skin blistering as the darkness crept in. With a final sigh, she could already feel her heart slowing. 

Then the iron door blasted entirely off its hinges and into the bars of the adjoining cell. She let her head fall to the side so she could take in the figure wreathed in flames standing in the doorway. 

Beron must have come back to finish the job. 

She laughed, a hysterical thing, tasting blood between her teeth. She wished she could tell Aradnus that he was going to get in trouble for taking so long and still getting nothing from her, but she couldn’t form a sentence. She could only laugh, the unhinged sound cracking out of her, hoarse and horrible. 

The figure stalked forward, and Aradnus backed up. She hoped Beron killed him, too. But then her eyes focused, and Aradnus’ fear made sense. It wasn’t Beron at the doors; it was Eris. Eris, absolutely consumed with flame and furious as he walked forward to a stumbling Aradnus. 

“Eris, I–” It was all he got out before Eris reached him, grabbed his throat in a single flaming hand, and ripped it from his body. Tilly thought she might still be laughing, but it turned to a hollow cough immediately, rattling through her lungs and causing the blood to surge in her mouth and out from the corner. She began to drift again, trying to hang on to consciousness but reaching out to grasp nothing each time. 

“Tilly.” His voice swam in and out of her mind. She tried to say his name, but maybe it was only in her mind. He was moving her body, shuffling her around. She could hear the massive chains clanking, and she sighed as she heard a key locking into them. “Tilly, fuck. Gods, hold on. Hold on.” She felt the locks clicking, and the shackles falling off her wrists, then her ankles after. She lurched upwards, back arching, as the magic rushed through her. 

Faebane shackles. 

How had she missed that? She’d assumed it had been in her water. 

The familiar magic thrummed in her veins from head to toe, rushing to heal what was broken, but as it worked she could feel everything. She screamed as her bones knit themselves back together, her body thrashing and bucking despite Eris’ gentle hands around her. 

“Tilly, I am so sorry.” She could tell he was crying, his voice hoarse and cracking as he held her to his chest, the agony finally calming enough for her to take a gasping breath. She looked up to him, still covered in flames, and her heart nearly broke at the sight of him, so disheveled and worried and relieved. She could feel the bond again, and that alone made her want to dissolve into great heaving sobs. She’d never realized how integral to her it had been until she hadn’t been able to feel it, to feel him. 

Without warning, he winnowed them straight from the dungeons to their rooms, her shock evident on her face. 

“How did you do that?” 

“I broke the wards. All of them.” He was pressing frantic kisses to her face and lips, holding her as though she might still slip away into the ether if he slackened his hold at all. The grief from his side of the bond was overwhelming, and Tilly was so exhausted all she could do was lean her head onto him and try to send waves of love and joy back. 

He carried her to the bathroom, setting her gently on the sink and pulling his hands back hesitantly to run the water. While it filled, he came right back, holding her close to him while he stripped off the tattered remnants of her nightgown, dirty and covered in blood and barely held together. 

“I thought I lost you, Matilda. I thought you died. I haven’t felt the bond in days. It’s been days…” His voice was barely above a croaking whisper. She had no energy to respond, but she wrapped her arms around him and clasped her fingers so they would stay around him. “I’d finished at Dawn and gone to Day to discuss everything with Helion and the bond went silent. He begged me to stay, in case it meant Autumn was under siege, or that you might be trying to protect me. He all but locked me in the palace.” 

Tilly could feel the guilt pouring from Eris’ side of the bond, his shame for not coming sooner. “He was right, Eris.” She spoke, barely audible. She’d hardly used her voice for anything but screaming these past few days. “I was trying to reach the bond, trying so hard to tell you not to come back. He was going to kill you. Make you watch me die then kill you too. He knew we were working with Night. They tried to get me to admit it for days. I swear I didn’t talk. I didn’t tell them anything.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. She sighed. “You’re really here.” 

Eris was crying, pressing her against him with such force it took the breath from her. “I am so sorry I left, Tilly. I am so sorry I left you with them. I’m so sorry I didn’t come right back. How will you ever forgive me?” 

“There is nothing to forgive, Eris. You’re here. We’re here.” She paused, her hands pushing back frantically. “The baby. Is the baby–” His hands were on her in a heartbeat. 

“The baby is fine. I can smell them–I can feel their magic. We’ll bring the healers up after we take a bath for peace of mind.” She nodded, the relief buoying her, and Eris picked her up and brought her to the warm tub, slipping in behind her fully clothed. He let her rest on his chest while he washed her body gently with a cloth and she faded in and out of sleep, let the water drain, then fill again. He washed her hair out, running his fingers through it slowly while her steady breath puffed against him. When he had cleaned every last mark from her skin, he just held her, let her float in the water against him, reassured them both that they were here and safe, and Beron was–

“What happened to Beron?” She murmured against his chest. 

“When I was in Day, we received an emergent missive from Night that Spring was under attack. Beron was stupid enough to take a portion of Autumn’s army and attack, and he was killed.” She summoned all of her strength to push up onto him. 

“He’s dead?”

“He’s dead. The magic hit me in the woods when I winnowed back here.” Her face crumpled and the relief hit him so strongly in the chest he lost his breath. Her chest heaved against his with full-body sobs wracking her and he brushed her hair back. “He can never hurt us again, Til. He’s never coming back.” 

“Is your mother okay?” 

“Yes, she’s in Day with Helion.” She sighed in relief against him. 

“That’s how they got me, you know. Aradnus used a magic trick. He had her voice somehow begging for help, so I opened the doors. So incredibly foolish.” She felt the rage roar down the bond, twined in with his affection for her. 

“Aradnus will never do anything to anyone ever again.” 

“My hero.” She sighed against him, and he laughed mirthlessly. “So, does that mean you’re High Lord now?”

“Yes. And you’re High Lady.”

“Oh, no. Not yet.” Eris pulled back to look down at her, and she lifted her eyes to his. “What?”

“Do you not…you don’t–” She lowered her head, pressing another kiss to his collarbone. 

“Autumn won’t accept a High Lady yet. There will be people who want things to remain how Beron kept them, especially amongst the nobles. You forget that’s where I spent most of my life. I need to earn it first, and you need to weed out the dissenters in the meantime.” She closed her eyes, nuzzling closer to him. “You’ll do the right things, make the right changes. They’ll accept me when I’ve earned it. I’m in no hurry.” 

She yawned, the last of her energy entirely gone now that she had made sure everyone was okay. So she let herself drift, both on her mate in the warm tub and out of consciousness. 

Eris

Tilly was fast asleep and surrounded by dogs and pillows, her face a road map of dark bruises that hadn’t healed. Eris clenched his fist, the flames shooting out from him despite the control he was trying to wield over them and this new power. Willa, the head healer, had come by and checked to make sure Tilly was healing okay. The bones in her legs, ribs, and shoulders had mended, as well as the burns on her hands and arms. She’d administered a heavy sleep tonic before leaving, ensuring that Tilly would be able to rest through the recovery. She checked, then double and triple checked that the baby was okay, while Eris hovered and paced nervously like a frantic mother hen. Once Willa had assured them that everything was more than fine, on track, and healing normally, Eris finally allowed her to leave. 

But now, watching from a chair beside the bed as his mate slept, those horrid bruises discoloring her perfect face, the cuts marring her lips and eyebrows and arched ears, the rage boiled his blood. How hard Aradnus must have hit her, repeatedly, to have those bruises still be so deeply purple. The flames crawled up his arms again and he had to physically shake them off. He should really sleep–it had been literal days since he had–but he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t slow his racing heart at the thought of leaving her unprotected again for even a moment. 

When he’d been leaving Dawn, the bond had gone quiet as he’d winnowed away to Day. He thought, at first, it might be the distance making it fade. But within a few hours, something began to feel well and truly wrong. He would catch the smallest flutters of fear and panic that he knew were not his own, and by the time he was in to meet with Helion, he was in a full-blown hysteria. 

Helion had implored him to stay, to be calm. There were many different reasons that the bond might be muted, especially since it wasn’t severed. Helion had said Eris would know if Tilly had died, but it didn’t make the not knowing any more bearable. 

Helion had contacted Rhysand, as well as sending spies deep into Autumn to find word of any disturbances in the normal routine of the Forest House. He’d all but locked Eris into the palace, trying to calm him and keep him from committing war crimes or getting himself killed by rushing back home. He’d felt like a rabid animal in a cage, pacing constantly, refusing to eat or sleep. Even Helion, who notoriously tolerated Eris at best, seemed worried for his health. 

“Eris, you must calm down. You’re running holes into the ground.” 

“How can you bear this, Helion? Aren’t you absolutely out of your mind for my mother’s safety? He might have killed her, too. You know that, right?” 

“He hasn’t killed your mother, Eris. She’s okay.” 

Eris exploded. “How could you possibly know that?” But Helion’s eyes had flashed dangerously. 

“Because she is my mate, Eris. I have been living with this pain for centuries, but it’s how I also know she is still alive. Scared, but alive.” Eris felt as though he’d been slapped. He’d suspected–for years he’d suspected–but hearing that Helion knew and had still chosen to stay away jarred him. He had chosen to let his mother suffer under Beron’s thumb. It was the breaking point for him, and he swung out at Helion. 

“How dare you?? You knew she was your mate and you let her ROT there?” His fists hit against Helion, and it took him a full minute to realize Helion had let him. He wasn’t even trying to fight him. “Fight me, you bastard. You left her!” But he wouldn’t, and Eris’ screaming turns to sobs, the horror over everything becoming too much.

“Eris…I love Alanna. More than anything in the universe. I always have, I always will. But she demanded I stay away. She wouldn’t risk her children’s safety. She made the choice. Wouldn’t you respect the choices that Matilda made, even if they ruined your own life?” The breath whooshed out of Eris with the last of his anger, and now all that was left was fear and exhaustion. 

Did Helion know? Did he know one of those sons she wouldn’t risk was his? He deserved to know. 

Eris hated that he had to find out this way. 

“Helion. Did you ever wonder why she stopped allowing you to see her after the last of my brothers was born? Ever wonder why you never saw her alone again?”

“She worried about your safety, her safety. I wasn’t yet a High Lord, and she worried he would start a full scale war for the slight. Or otherwise kill us all.” 

“Have you ever met Lucien?” Helion’s eyes shot to his, brows furrowed. 

“Alanna’s youngest son, former emissary to Spring. I saw him get his eye carved out Under the Mountain when he stood up to that bitch.” He huffed in amusement. “It seems he got Alanna’s heart and not your father’s.” Eris could have rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, he got much of my mother. And his father. Nothing of Beron.” Eris implored Helion with his eyes, begging him to understand. It only took a moment, and the way Helion’s face crumpled, the misery was so deep that it threatened to take Eris’ own heart from his chest. When Helion spoke, it was barely a whisper. 

“No.” 

“Yes. I helped her hide it, per her request, for centuries.” Helion was crying outright now, big heaving sobs from the hulking, unshakable man. It seemed Eris was not the only one who wore a mask, and he could, for just a moment, see the male who his mother loved so fiercely. Could see her match here in this gentle giant who so clearly loved her, who would rather suffer for eternity than go against her wishes. He could see so much of Lucien in him. 

“He is so good, Helion. Lucien is. He’s so thoroughly kind, and funny, and he has a good heart. He is someone you would want to know, someone anyone would be lucky to know. I have always been proud to be his brother, and I have never once deserved it.” 

“She kept him from me–”

“For everyone’s safety. Everyone’s.”

“Does Lucien know?”

“I have no idea, though I imagine he has his suspicions that Beron is not his father. To ask it aloud would be a death sentence for our mother.” Helion nodded, but his eyes grew hard. 

“Come, we’re going.” Eris was momentarily shocked, stumbling up to standing. 

“What? To Autumn?” Helion was already making for the doors.

“Yes. I’m getting her out of there, her requests and the consequences be damned. I’ll not let her suffer another moment under that tyrant. She can hate me the rest of our lives, but she’ll do it from somewhere safe.”

“What if he’s there?” Eris could barely get the words out as he got his bearings, tearing down the hall next to Helion, who was walking with impressive strides now. 

“Then I will kill him. I may not have been able to do anything then, but I am a High Lord now. I can invoke the Blood Duel, and I will kill him.” 

“If you fail, Helion, she’ll die. He won’t let her live over an embarrassment like this.” He stopped so short Eris almost slammed into him and Helion whirled around on him. 

“Then you swear to me, Eris. Swear you’ll get her out.” Eris nodded. 

“We’ll get them both out.” And understanding settled between them as they made their way to the armory, their minds made up. 

Then the missive had arrived. 

All at once, everything flew into motion. Eris and Helion only had the time to organize and immediately send any of his fighters who could winnow to Spring, and then to decide that Helion and Eris would still  go to the Forest House together. Eris would be there to find Tilly and get her to safety. Helion would immediately go to Alanna, bringing her back to the safety of Day. Eris had told Helion where he could find Alanna–all the places she might be starting with her rooms and the garden, and made sure Helion knew he’d be on his own once they arrived. 

But all their plans had changed again when, as soon as they touched ground at the Forest House, Eris had immediately been engulfed with flames so hot they burned blue. He fell to his knees as the power overcame him. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and by the time it abated, he knew Beron had died. He didn’t miss a beat as he shattered the wards on the Forest House on instinct, sprinting into their rooms, finding them long-empty, her smell almost non-existent. 

He ran madly through the abandoned halls, hoping to at least find his mother or a brother or Cormac to tell him what had happened, but no one was there. He tried reaching desperately for the bond, but it lay so limp, worse than it had been at any time in the last few days, despite his proximity. Wherever Tilly was, she was running out of time. He knew it deep within himself, and the terror shot up like nausea into his throat. He knew he needed to check the dungeons, though he hated the thought more than anything else. It seemed the guards had mostly abandoned their posts; the news must have traveled already. As he reached the doors to the unmanned dungeons, he burst through them and was shocked to find, again, no guards, and all his brothers and Cormac in the cells. 

“What the fuck happened?” Eris demanded, as he ripped the keys from the hooks and unlocked the doors. 

“Ambush. You’re on fire.” Cormac wheezed. They looked horrible, all beaten to a pulp, the faebane shackles keeping them from healing. Killian appeared to have taken it the worst, but was the first to stand, to get to the walls and lean heavily against them. 

“Eris, they have Tilly.” He barely croaked the words out. “We could hear her screaming.” 

Was he…he was crying? 

And then, the worst possible truth dawned on Eris, and he put together the only option in which they might have heard her screaming. “He’s in there with her now.” 

The horror overtook him, and so did the flames, and all the brothers jerked back as he lit up and sprinted to the heavy door to the lower dungeons, nearly ripping it off the hinges as he stormed in. 

Eris could barely remember the horrors that he felt as he slung the door open. Seeing Aradnus crouching over her broken body, the fire consuming her skin and her not even fighting back anymore. He’d been absolutely consumed with rage, not even feeling himself anymore as he’d ripped out a male's throat with his bare hand without another thought. 

The memory nearly suffocated him now, sitting beside her, safe, breathing, alive. He prodded the dogs to the bottom of the bed gently, climbing in behind her, needing her close. He folded himself against her, curving along every inch of her body, holding her close like he may never get to again. He’d need to go to Spring to deal with the Autumn troops there in two days' time, but he’d need to winnow briefly tomorrow morning to touch base with Tamlin and Rhysand. He didn’t want to leave her again–not now, not ever. 

He tucked his hand around Tilly’s stomach while she slept. Willa had estimated her to be about three months along, so she wasn’t showing yet, but he could feel the little magic within her, and could differentiate it from the feel of hers. Their baby, already a survivor in their own right. Willa had spoken to him privately after she’d given Tilly the tonic; it was a miracle in itself that the baby had survived. Tilly had suffered massive and repeated internal damage, and the fact that the baby had made it implied a strong magical presence. Eris had never been so thankful for Autumn’s stupid emphasis on breeding strong bloodlines. It had given him Tilly, given him their child, and allowed him to keep both. 

She’d been ready to die for him–the thought made him burn with panic, even feeling her here in his arms, her heartbeat strong and steady against him. She’d been ready to sacrifice herself to make sure that he lived. He had never had that sort of love or devotion from anyone in his life, and he didn’t know what to do with all of it–all that it made him feel. He wasn’t entirely sure he was worth it. 

He hated to leave her even for an hour tomorrow, but knew she’d be well protected. He’d spent time this evening reconstructing all the wards he’d so violently broken when he’d arrived looking for her. He’d meticulously respun them, and would ask Helion to come follow up on them when he checked in on his mother. He hoped that long-overdue conversation had gone well. His brothers would keep an eye on Tilly for him in the meantime. The second they’d been healed, they were out of their minds with worry, swarming the hallway in front of Tilly and Eris’ room like a gaggle of gossiping females. Eris was thrilled that they cared, that they wanted to protect her, but he was himself feeling a bit territorial in the wake of things. 

The brothers had immediately sworn fealty, none of them caring at all about the crown and simply relieved to be alive and rid of Beron. They’d told him, sorrow in their eyes, how they’d heard Tilly being tortured for days. How they tried to taunt Aradnus so he’d direct his rage and sadism at them instead. How she’d held on longer than any of them had imagined she could. How she’d never once told them a thing, and how Aradnus left every day angrier and more agitated as he stalked through the upper levels. Killian, of all of them, began to cry. 

The brothers had heard everything in the cell, but Eris hadn’t. 

“He kept asking her about my family. My mate, and my daughter.” Eris couldn’t keep the sharp exhale from passing his lips. He felt like he’d been punched in the chest. 

Killian had a family, a mate. And Tilly had known the whole time. She’d protected his family’s secrets at the cost of her safety. 

“She could have sold me out–she could have gotten a reprieve, but she said nothing. I will never be able to repay her, Eris. Not in a million lifetimes.” He put his hand on Eris’ arm. 

Eris was so proud and so filled with anger that he couldn’t even articulate his thoughts, he’d just begun sobbing, big ugly gasps for air that burst from him as his face crumpled. He lifted his arm to cover it, not used to allowing any real emotion to show out openly. In perhaps their first ever public display of affection, the brothers all came in to embrace Eris. 

He hoped, going forward, this might be the norm for them. He didn’t want the tension that they’d lived under for their entire lives to have any influence on their future. But, right now, if they came to his door one more time to check on her before morning, he might set one of them on fire. They were watching over the court currently, preventing anyone from getting ideas about an early coup, and he hoped he might be able to take in a few more hours of silence. 

He blew out the candle by the bed, pulling himself close to Tilly once more. He pressed a single kiss to the back of her neck, breathing her in, and reassured himself again and again that she was safe.

Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd @queercontrarian @byyalady @thelovelymadone @clockwork-ashes @lovingkelj @lilah-asteria

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers #flame of autumn #arranged marriage #allies to lovers #eris vanserra x oc #acotar smut #Eris smut

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Full Kook - Part 1

A Protective/Sweet/Obsessive/Possessive!Rafe&JJ Fanfic

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, Alcohol, Language, SA, Abuse, Sex. Anything I missed Lmk.

Word count: 1765

Summary of Part 1: Introduction of the main three characters, told by the one and only JJ Maybank.

JJ's Pov:

Bella Elizabeth Brooks.

The Princess of Kildare. With a heart of gold and the face of an angel. The girl everyone wants to be or be with. And the only person to disagree with that.. herself.

Bella grew up on The Cut with no mum, a father but no dad, and barely any friends. Despite the idolisation, everyone has always avoided her, and that's for one reason and one reason alone - Thomas Brooks.

The man who created the island's untouchable sweetheart.

There's reasons for it, that only the Pogue's side of the island understand. Whereas, for Figure Eight? Let's just say Tom has a good friend who keeps his status well-worded.

Don't get me wrong, Tom is THE most respected man in the OBX; works for everyone, always knows how to put smiles on their faces, and never has a bad thing to say about anything or anyone.

Well, that all goes out the window when it comes to Bella. I mean who wouldn't throw that all away if they had a daughter like her? But it definitely all changed when the whole fiasco with her mum came out last year. (14 years prior her mum passed. Her dad.. I'll save that for later). But it completely ruined everything for the both of them; everyone stopped wanting Thomas to take their jobs meaning they were losing a lot of money, and Thomas didn't want Bella having anything to do with anyone, as they all started spreading rumours about her, so he pulled her out of school.

Luckily the news only went around The Cut. So, ever since last Summer, Bella and Tom have been working up on the North side, taking jobs from anywhere they can like the Island Club or even just small things like mowing people's lawns. To be fair if I was getting paid that much, l'd do anything for them too. It helps that their family friend is only THE richest man on the island, so it makes surviving that little bit easier.

The Brooks had to start over from rock bottom, again, but they've managed to get themselves back to where they were. Everyone has started to move on from the situation, but now it was Thomas' turn. Which leads me back to why Bella doesn't like her life, despite having almost everything.

Her parents are Kooks, grew up on Figure Eight, best friends with Ward and Mary Cameron (before she left). Tom and Ward were inseparable since the day they met in Middle School, then meeting Mary and Elizabeth (Bella's mum) in High School, as they were cheerleaders for their football games.

However, Thomas suffered with mental illness since he was a little boy, and it slowly grew worse over the years. It meant that taking care of himself was bad enough, so being in a relationship with Eli would be extremely difficult. But, Elizabeth and Ward were what he needed as a distraction from everything else, so he stayed.

Taking us to 17 years ago (7 years later), when Eli found out she was pregnant and began to focus on that instead, something clicked in Tom's head. Almost like flipping a switch. Eli wasn't enough to make his thoughts go away anymore and Ward was now busy with Cameron Development so he turned to alcohol as a last resort. He wanted to move to The Cut to see if starting over would help him to get better but in-fact it did the opposite.

Around when Bella was 2, Eli and Thomas got into a huge argument over his drinking problem and how it was affecting their daughter’s life. One thing led to another and.. (I think you can piece it all together by now.)

The problem was, Tom is the sweetest man to exist, but when he lashes out he's a completely different person, even to himself. Afterwards, he doesn't remember a thing as if it was someone else inside his body. So him and Bella thought nothing of it; ignoring whenever he had an ‘episode’ (what they started to call it as he began to switch up more often and had no recollection of it after).

When Ward found out, he realised how distant he'd been; bailed Tom out and sent him to rehab.

This is where I come in.

At the time, Thomas, Ward, Mike, Bobby, and my dad, Luke, were all friends. They all were aware of Tom's mental health but never knew what happened that night (other than Ward) and they made sure to keep it that way.

Bella stayed with me and my dad for about two weeks before Thomas gave up on rehab. He believed that as long as he had Bella and he stopped drinking, he'd be okay. Ward didn't want to admit it, but he didn't trust Tom with his own daughter, especially when he was still grieving, so all of his friends would be over every night to 'check up on him'; they'd gamble, watch football, spend time with me and Bella (and an occasional Sarah and Rafe if Mary was busy).

Whatever it took to distract Thomas from his own mind.

Bella grew up surrounded by people; as we grew older and went to school, meeting new people was on the top of our list. Because of my dad, I practically lived at the Brooks house, so when Bella and Tom started going to Tannyhill for the weekends, I had to fill in the time. That's when I met John B. Then Kiara, then Pope. Bella, on the other hand, wasn't good at making friends, her dad was very picky with who she could surround herself with so she settled for me, Rafe and Sarah. The people he knew.

Rafe and Sarah began to visit the Brooks with Ward and so, even though I was quite sceptical about the whole ‘Kooks befriending Pogues thing’, I had no choice but to do so. The Camerons are the only reason, me, Bella and Tom have a good life so tolerating them is my way of thanking them.

Sarah ditched Bella for Kiara during High School before ditching Kie aswell (I don't know what happened, don't ask, the look I get when I ask is like I just murdered a whole family of turtles). This led the visitings to stop however, and they only saw each other once a week. The weekend stays were cut to a Friday dinner at most and so Bella and Rafe grew apart.

Bella was left with me and her dad. And then because of the whole information outbreak last year, she lost everything else. Thomas has worked his ass off to give her everything he can and she appreciates every part of it. She always tells him that she'd be happy living in a cardboard box as long as she had me and him, but it never stopped him from trying to give her the world.

But trust me, she meant it.

Anywho. The good news after that shitshow of a trauma dump that doesn't actually belong to me but to my gorgeous best friend, is that because of Bella and her dad working at the Island Club so much, her and Rafe reunited and are now as close as ever.

Gross, gag me..

Joking I can't say that.

He's sat right beside me smoking a J with me whilst Bella's asleep on the other side of the L -shaped couch.

Me. Rafe. Bella.

The ‘Famous Trio’ of Kildare Island. I'm not going into another lecture but let me just say that we are the most well known people in the OBX right now. Rafe's the heartthrob of the Kooks, me? I'm the Pogues equivalent of course, and Bella's the beauty that came from the beast (Her dad, get it? No? Okay..) and we're all somehow friends.

Everyone on the island thinks we’re this weird throuple because of how close we all are to one another but we're actually so far from it.

Okay that was a lie.. to Bella there's absolutely nothing between us. But me and Rafe? GOD we fawn over Bella whenever we get the chance. And what makes it even harder to ignore is the fact that we know it'll never happen.

It's not that we want to sleep with her or anything, it's actually quite the opposite. We love that she likes us outside of that. That's what gets us the most, (other than the way she looks but that's a given), that she cares about us. And even through everything she'd never leave.

Bella Brooks is for life. And me and Rafe are never ever letting her go. That's a promise.

"Hm look.." Rafe lifts his phone to meet my eyes with the proudest grin on his face, a picture of Bella taking up the screen. It was a photo he took of her earlier today at the club whilst she was beating Topper at golf. Rafe taught her and she was quick to learn; he enjoys watching Topper's expressions when he loses to a 'beginner' when in reality she gets private lessons.

I watch the picture, as if it were a video waiting to load. My eyes widen, not being able to fix on only one area.

"Right..?" He chuckles, eyeing the photo himself, tracing every inch of it. Bella bent over, ass hanging out her shorts, and chest slightly exposed over her crop top as her arm is swung to hit the ball. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, held secure in one of Rafe's hats, showing off her whole face.

His eyes glare at me, eyebrows furrowed, now impatiently waiting for a response wondering if he should've shared the photo with me at all. "Send it to me.." I mumble, taking a glance at the Bella laying under a blanket across from us.

I always feel guilty about the way we ogle at her, like some toy we can play with, but we simply just think she's the most beautiful girl we've laid our eyes on. We don’t mean anything by it we just like to let her know.

He laughs passing me the joint, "Knew we were friends for a reason.."

Jealousy doesn't exist between me and Rafe; we know that Bella wouldn't choose between us and she loves us both equally so we have no reason for there to be any tension. Although I can't lie, I do get a little pissed when I see the way he looks at her. Because I know he sees her differently to me, he sees a sparkle somewhere in her that I haven't yet found and he's digging further for it with every interaction. I also know that he has a better chance with her, as me and Bella grew up together, meaning if we ever tried dating it would ruin everything we've worked for.

And Rafe knows that..

Alternative intro to my other one (pinned)

Let me know which you’d prefer to read more of x

Thank you for reading ❤️

#jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj obx #rafe obx #jj outer banks #rafe outer banks #obx #outer banks #drew starkey #jj imagine #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #oc #rafe x oc #jj x oc #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks jj #rafe fanfiction #jj fanfiction #rafe fic #jj fic

[astrecium]

𓍯 that one specific special day.

CW. pronouns for reader are (you/your), modern au? Reader likes sweets. (does this count as a warning?×.×)

summary. Kuni trying his best to make you have a nice birthday.

A/N. My birthday is close so I decided to do this soo.. happy birthday to whoever is reading this !! By the way, do y'all mind the small letters? Or do y'all like the big ones more?🥲 Had to rewrite this🥲

He can't say he understands the concept or birthdays, he can't get what is the happiness on being closer and closer to your death. But, he understands that for you, it's something special, and he would do his best to make you happy on this day.

Believe it or not, he would never forget what day your birthday is. He has it craved on his mind, something he would never dare himself to forget, since he know this action would disappoint you. In the day, he wouldn't even sleep, trying to prepare the best day for you.

‘I could do better than this if I had become a god.’ the thought would cross his mind, which he would instantly brush away, not letting such trivial bothers ruin his focus. At 00:00, he would be awake, thinking on what to do before you wake up. ‘breakfast, maybe.’ yes, that will do for the morning. Wanderer would spend the whole night trying to cook your favorite dish, paying attention to every small detail, and doing his best even though he had no idea on how to cook things like that. But fortunately, the final result was better than expected. The image of the small cake was good, but just as you yourself told him, looks aren't everything. He hated sweets, yet he had to do the sacrifice of discovering if it tasted good.

After putting his finger somewhere discreet of the cake, he hesitantly puts it on his mouth. ‘eugh.’ it was sweet, just how you liked it. It was good, for you obviously.

He would cover the damaged part of where his finger damaged, leaving it perfect like it was before. 01:30 would show up on the clock. He needed to be faster. Placing your cake on the fridge, he didn't know if juice suits morning.. though, you'll probably wake up late today. If not, he'll have his way.

But even though he knew how to cook, celebrations were new for him. He had to search on what do to on someone's birthday. "What to write in a birthday card(so that they'll actually want to keep it)" he found a site, and immediately clicked.

It was so... Cringe. Corny. Or.. maybe he just wasn't used to seeing caring words. He looked at the birthday he card he had bought just yesterday, and though in writing just 'happy birthday.' nothing else. But no, that's too dry. You deserve more than that. He decided to look a bit more into the site, trying to find something he finds acceptable.

But that took more time than expected, too. 02:00. He immediately put his phone down when he sees the time, going back to the kitchen. He was in a hurry and frustrated, but all he let out was a sigh.

After some time, he checked the clock again. 06:00. It took some time, and you should be waking up soon— wait nah! He didn't get the most important thing. He shoves his head on his hands, and sighs again. He knew you were waking up, so he went to your room.

When he saw your figure getting up, he gently pushed you back to bed.

‘nuh uh uh, go back to sleep.’ he covered you with a blanket after shoving you on the bed. You tried to get up again, b ut he shooshed you and got you back to sleep. ‘try again uh.. when it's 09:00.’ as if you could know what time it is when you are asleep. He doesn't mind it though, the more time he got the best.

He rushed to buy you a gift. But don't get this words wrong, he'll carefully look at everything on the store, carefully pick the one you would like the best, judge every small detail that could go unnoticed. It took him... 3 stores. He judged the soul of everything, to the shop workers to the items. He decided to buy your favorite drink too.

When he came home, you were still sleeping, thankfully. He sighed, relieved, and went to wake you up with the cake on his hands, carefully shaking you so the cake doesn't fall and you don't wake up annoyed. He has... War flashbacks on when you did so.

When you woke up, you saw him looking away, a gift box by your side, and a cake and your favorite drink on his hands. ‘dont you dare get used to this.’ he would say dryly, in contrast to the sweet actions he did. If you hugged him, you couldn't even see, but he would smile slightly, relieved that he managed to actually please you.

on the birthday card, which he would only give to you at the end of the day, the words written in soft and elegant writing were surprisingly sweet. The day you came into the world was one of the best days of my whole life. I hope today is one of your best days, too. But he doesn't dare to look at your face when he delivered it, looking away with his arms crossed, a faint red on his face. ‘you are smiling like a fool.’ he would say even though he lives to see you smile like that.

Huh, what do you mean your birthday doesn't last three days? He bought three cakes and even more!!! Bro probably bought you airpods and a giant plushie since he thought you liked hugging them to sleep and said it's nothing💀(I have a fic about this :0)

Happy birthday to you 🫶

This is cringe im going to kms

#wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin headcanons #kabukimono x reader #wanderer headcanons #kabukimono #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #wanderer x reader fluff #wanderer x you

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 29

MASTAPOST big thanks to @brekitten for betaing this chapter <3

“P-please.” Danny Fenton, son of the siren hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton pleaded. “You can’t tell anyone about this. I’m begging you.”

Damian nodded absently. This changed everything. This was- “You were a human. Just like me.”

“Yeah.”

“You were turned.”

Danny flinched. “It’s not a pleasant memory for me.”

“Is that why you know so much about the ocean, yet so little about sirens?”

“Hard to learn about your new species when they all wanna waste you for being half-human.”

That made sense. Everything made sense. He didn’t know about Damian’s inability to form human words because he’d never met a child siren before, never been a child siren before. He watched movies as a human. He fought the sirens who attacked Amity Island because that was his home. He had Fenton tech because he was a Fenton.

Damian’s scales went cold. He was a Fenton. His parents were siren hunters. Danny’s parents joined up with Damian’s father because both of them were looking for their sons.

Danny’s parents tortured him in order to find information on where their son was. They tortured their son to find out where their son was. Damian clutched his head. It was- It was agonising to think about.

As awful as his time was in his first home, his never home, he always had the love of his parents, even as twisted as his mother’s was. Every blow landed on him was training, with rules and boundaries (even if those boundaries were cruel). His father was even gentler.

Never had he ever known what it was like to have unadulterated rage directed at him from someone who should have loved him.

Danny’s breaths hitched. “Y-you can’t tell anyone. If t-they find out. T-they’ll.” Danny sucked in a breath. “They’ll- They’ll…”

Damian recalled what was done for him the first night they met. Met as sirens, and not the cursory greeting when Father was introducing him to the Fenton family. He pulled himself out of the sink. He dropped to the floor, whereupon he immediately slithered to Danny’s feet.

Damian lay his head on Danny’s leg. He attempted to channel that rumbling purr that was able to shut his body down in relaxation.

His companion, no, his friend’s shivering faded. Danny’s back slid down the wall, until he was sitting cross-legged. Damian climbed up his legs, and laid his head against the trembling boy’s chest.

“I will not let them touch you.” He whispered. Low purrs rumbled from the back of his throat. His chest thrummed like a bass drum.

Danny clutched him tightly. Damian’s purrs grew louder, stronger. Along with them grew a determination.

What would Danny do once this was all over? Once he returned Damian to Gotham? The least his father could do was finance a plane ticket back home to Amity Island, Danny had counted on nobody knowing his secret. Was he just going to swim back the way he came? Hitchhike? How long would that take? How many months would he have been missing from Amity?

How would he explain it all to his parents? Unquiet horror settled between Damian’s scales. He’d had it all wrong. It was not supposed to be Danny bringing him to Gotham. Damian needed to bring Danny to Gotham, to a safe home.

“I am… I am sorry. For treating you harshly.” He whispered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Perhaps. But it was unfair to you.”

“I’ve been unfair to you too.”

Damian clicked. Such self-sacrificial idiocy. “Tut. I am not entitled to your secrets. You had very good reasons for keeping them.” That, and he could relate.

Danny’s chest rumbled, a response to Damian’s purr. For a moment the boy said nothing. Eyes closed, he leaned his chin into Damian’s hair.

“You know, you’re a kinder kid than the media says.”

“You’re a better hero than the media says.”

The boys quietly laughed together. For the first time, Damian felt open, like there were no longer barriers between them. He understood his friend.

Well, no barriers except for one thing. That was a secret that could perhaps wait for later. However, a friend should share in vulnerability. Danny had trusted him with a secret that could threaten his life if revealed, another item in the long list of sacrifices he had made just to keep Damian safe.

“My mother loved me. But she treated me terribly as well, as did my grandfather. I will never know the pain you feel, but you are not alone.”

Danny stroked Damian’s sail. He allowed it. “I’m glad you’ve gotten away from them.”

And Damian will get Danny away from his parents. This he knew. It had to happen. “Thank you. So am I.”

It was decided that her mother and Bruce Wayne would take the jet skis again. Her father wanted to join in, but was convinced to say on account of Jazz still having a concussion, and to keep the boat safe in case anything happened.

That was exactly what Jazz needed. To pick her father’s brain. She’d had precious little time to investigate her father’s thoughts this whole trip, an error she needed to correct.

Her chest felt like soaring frisbees. It soared with hope.

They had an early lunch underneath the searing sun and among the scenic sea. Sunlight beamed off the waves like liquid diamonds. A seagull cried out above. The air stayed cool underneath the shade of their umbrellas. With the engines dead, the rhythmic shifting of the waves in the background made up most of the sounds. That and their fan humming beside them as they ate. It was a turkey sandwich she’d made from the leftovers in the fridge. Her father was too dirty from work, so she’d insisted on it. “I’m concussed, not helpless, dad!”

He’d just finished another round of repairs. It amazed her what her parents could do in such a short amount of time. She hoped Danny would be far into the Atlantic by the time they’d finished.

“Dolphins.” She said, wistfully.

Dad looked up from his sandwich. “Say what?”

“Sorry, it was just a little detail Danny used to go on about. Did you know dolphins are jerks?”

Her dad shook her head. His eye brows quirked up. General marine biology was less her parents’ specialty than engineering and siren stuff. “No way. Aren’t they supposed to be playful lil buggers that rescue humans and do all that fun stuff?”

“That’s tamed dolphins in aquariums and stuff.” Jazz’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “In the wild? They’re one of the few creatures intelligent enough to be cruel.”

Her father gasped. He leaned in like a schoolgirl hearing a particularly juicy gossip bit. “What do they do?”

“All sorts of things. They play around with corpses of fish. They bully other marine life to death just for fun. They even force themselves on others.” Jazz coughed.

Her father’s eyes welled up with tears. Maybe that was a little too dramatic. Sorry, Dad.

“T-that’s so horrible! Why would they do such a thing?!”

Jazz shrugged. “Probably for the same reasons the worst of humans do it.”

“I feel like everything I know has been a lie!” Pfft. Get in line, dad. “Danno knew the truth about those salacious cetaceans all along!”

“Wanna know another little fact Danny told me?”

Her father nodded eagerly. “Of course! But please let me down gently. I don’t know if my poor heart could take another shock.”

“Sharks aren’t actually that bad.”

Her father leaned back and wiped his forehead, relief clear. “Oh! Thank goodness! This I already knew!”

“I know right! There are barely any actual shark attacks per year, and most of them are caused by the sharks being confused or scared.”

“It’s sampling bias through and through. People just focus on the sharks that do attack and don’t realise just how many have never hurt a human before.”

Her father was so smart. And so. Freaking. Dense. Jazz resisted the urge to scream.

“It’s thanks to the Jaws movies, dad. The director was so horrified at the public reaction to his movie that he’s disavowed it. Became a shark conservationist. Can you imagine?”

“I’d be horrified if my work was used for evil like that by people who didn’t know better.” Dad leaned back in his chair, a distant look on his face, contemplation that usually fit her mother better. Her father was more of an emotional intelligent person compared to her mother’s scientific acumen. That wasn’t saying much, considering they both held multiple PhDs.

“Welp!” Her dad got up. “Back to work! This ship ain’t gonna fix itself!”

This was going to take a while.

The first thing Danny needed was food.

He walked out of the building back into the sweltering heat, protected by his invisibility. He’d never had to maintain camouflage for this long before. Sooner or later, it was going to flicker, or he would lose his concentration, or worse. What was more, his body had spent precious energy healing his burnt fingers.

He felt bad for taking the tamales from some poor truck driver. He really did! Would he have done it again in this situation? Absolutely.

A couple of birds fluttered about. Danny had dabbed some water on his nose to transform it. Couldn’t sniff out anyone nearby.

“You think you can eat those birds?” Damian whispered. Danny gagged. Wasn’t he a vegetarian?!

“Dude. Raw meat tastes awful in this form, for one. For another: feathers. Also what about your morals??” Sam would definitely have words to say. Fish was one thing, but birds? Oh boy.

“Survival precedes dietary restrictions.” Danny was pretty sure that would get someone killed. Nut allergies in the wild and what not, but who was he to judge?

The agents had long scattered at least. That meant he could walk through the yard without needing to worry too much. Soon Danny found himself at the side of a road, watching the occasional cars pass by.

Time to start walking, then.

The second thing he needed was clothes.

After some time walking, Danny found himself a very comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt in a trash heap. Did it offend his sensitive nose? Absolutely. It definitely offended Damian’s sensibilities even more.

“What are you doing? These things are filthy!”

“Clothes are clothes, man.”

Danny pulled on the jeans. He winced at the rough texture scraping on his skin. Pretty sure jeans weren’t supposed to do that, but ok.

“You are invisible!”

“I’m an American with very American opinions on nudity, thank you very much. You wanna see naked people in public you go to some beach in Denmark or whatever.”

Damian groaned.

“Besides, it means I can save on invisibility energy.”

Danny let go of his powers, only to be beset by the unfiltered power of the sun on his neck. He immediately went invisible again.

“Idiot.”

Vroom. Vroooommm….

The Fenton Jet Skis’ GPS indicated they were getting close.

All this effort, and still no Danny to show for it. Maddie needed these answers, and she needed them yesterday.

Bruce seemed to notice her mood. He tapped the comm piece in his ear. “You saw what I saw, right Maddie?”

“Saw what?”

“He was terrified.”

Maddie glanced to the side. Bruce was still wearing the Abyssal Dismissal Belt. He was likely not being controlled. “How do you know it wasn’t some kind of act?”

“Instinct.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes. “We’ve studied sirens for the last twenty years, Bruce.”

“And this is the first one you’ve ever successfully caught.” Until he escaped, that was.

“It’s an evolutionary tactic for many species to mimic others, or mimic distress signals from other species to deceive them.”

“I know you’re the expert on sirens here, but I’ve seen hundreds of children in various states of pain and distress.”

Right. Bruce Wayne was a noted philanthropist and father to many adopted children. She’d forgotten the man they’d been sailing with for days was also a larger-than-life billionaire on the other side of the country. It was part of why she and Jack wanted to approach his company for grants, early in their career.

“I’ve visited many orphanages. I got many of them shut down. I’ve built many more to protect victims of crime in Gotham. And I promise you that Phantom’s panic was genuine.” Bruce said. Even though his eyes were on the water ahead, she could feel the intensity behind him. His words carried years of suffering. Not just his own, but others’. Maddie let it sink deep into her spine. On a deep level, she knew no explanation of hers truly fit the empirical evidence. Did that mean Bruce’s did? Maybe. And that scared here, for some reason.

“Sirens have gone unnoticed in our society for centuries. How do you know it’s not just part of their many abilities?”

“You make a good point, granted. You also saw his heartrate, didn’t you?”

Did she? Maddie remembered seeing red, and that was more than just her goggles. She’d barely even looked at Phantom’s chest, focusing on his face, his eyes. Searching for the truth in every lie blubbered out.

“It was racing. Probably close 120 beats per minute. Maddie, he was having a panic attack.”

That information was new to her. Maddie chewed her lip. The heart was the centre of an organism’s circulatory system. Its vital role necessitated the unconscious control granted by the sympathetic nervous system. She was sure that 99.9% of sentient creatures could not simply control it.

“It could be his baseline.” A weak argument.

And Bruce knew it too. “Phantom’s heart rate was steady when he awoke, about 50 per minute.”

The implications slithered underneath her jumpsuit. Maddie swallowed bile.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merman #merboy #mermaid au #angst #bruce wayne #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #jack fenton #cuddles #hugs #comfort

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

IPKKND SS: Madaari

Madaari - Puppeteer. Trickster. Magician. Conjurer. A street performer who entertains the public by training (torturing) animals to dance. 

Trigger Warning: none | Word Count: 2400+

Read Chapter 1

#Chapter 2

Shyam watched the Gupta family fret over Khushi. It was Devi Maiyya’s sign, he had to do away with Khushi Gupta and her family as soon as possible. The strings were too messy, and what if her memory recovered? 

He smiled at the paralyzed Shashi Gupta - so much for playing hero for his daughter. Shashi grumbled, tears and rage filling the old eyes but Shyam could only hide a laugh as Garima had to tend to wipe the drool away from Shashi’s face. 

That man was never going to be fine, Shyam made sure of it. 

The medicines they diligently fed Shashi were his path to a slow, natural, death.

After all he was Khushi’s father, he couldn’t condemn him to a painful death. 

Khushi’s heart hurt more than her head. A sharp pain. Arnav was here.

She woke up, looking around, barely remembering the ride to her home. Shyam had assisted her to her room, tucking her neatly and explaining the situation to her family. 

She slept even before she knew it. 

“He’s not here.” Khushi stiffened as Payal sat next to her, a fresh bandaid and antiseptic bottle in her hand. 

“Woh Jiji, I was looking for-” Payal shot Khushi a look, and for the grace of her sister she did not mention the name of the man Khushi was clearly looking for.

For someone who had read Khushi since childhood, Payal Gupta found it no mystery who was the love of her darling sister’s life.

It was definitely not Khushi’s fiancé. 

How had Khushi fallen for Arnav, it was beyond her. But Payal had said nothing, fearing that speaking about Khushi’s infatuation with Arnav would flame the fire Khushi’s heart.

So she feigned ignorance. 

The rest of the family barely paid heed to Khushi anyway, they never saw her spending hours learning sugar free sweets in the kitchen. They never heard her whisper words in English to herself.  They never realized how Khushi inserted Arnav Singh Raizada in every conversation. 

“If he cared, he would’ve been here,” Payal emphasized, blowing at the injury on Khushi’s head. Khushi turned away in shame, her secret caught in the open.

She flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.

“He’s engaged.” Payal now whispered, afraid that the Goddess might punish her sister for a mistake her young heart made. 

“It’s nothing like that,” Khushi denied the unsaid accusation. Payal could only smile sadly. 

“You will be perceived as the other woman, regardless of context,” Payal advised, fixing the bandaid on Khushi's forehead. 

“It’s nothing like that,” Khushi repeated, clenching her blanket.

“Khushi, one mistake cannot fix another.” Payal sighed. Her sister truly had the worst luck. Her options were either a doomed romance or a doomed marriage. 

A tear rolled down Khushi’s cheek. She loved Arnav. It was a fact that she understood at her worst. He, his feelings, meant the world for her. She had to tell everything to Payal.

For once, Khushi did not want to hold all the burdens in her heart. God knows Khushi needed Payal’s guidance and help now more than ever. 

“Jiji” Khushi froze as she saw the reflection on the window in front of her. 

Payal didn’t have to look up to know who had been standing all along.

Arnav Singh Raizada

— — —

Lavanya watched Arnav return home, face crumpled in anguish. When she had returned from visiting Khushi earlier in the day, she thought the anguish on her face was a result of the accident. 

But with the similar pain on Arnav’s face, she realized physical pain had little strength to heartache. 

Her engagement was over before it even began. 

It’s ironic that the closer she got to Arnav in societal recognition, the farther away he grew from her. 

“Everything will be fine,” Arnav stopped short in his tracks, staring at Lavanya intertwine her hand with his, compassion on her face. 

Will everything ever be fine? His world fell beneath his feet when he learned from Akash that Khushi was involved in an accident, and from the conversation between Payal and Khushi, his worst and best dreams came true. 

He must be sadistic to feel relief that Khushi was just as miserable in her engagement as he. 

The relief was just as strong as finding her safe and healthy. 

And to be honest, he was glad her fiancé was not around when he stopped by. He could hardly be trusted these days. 

Arnav looked at his own fiancee, and guilt settled in his heart. It was never about Lavanya, was it? 

One look at Khushi in her bed, wounded, and he realized that this was the only woman he’d ever feel so intensely for, regardless of the context. So what was he promising Lavanya? 

The life his mother lived? 

“La,” Lavanya teared up as Arnav took her name far more affectionately than he had over the past few months. She savored and feared as he gently cupped her face, a flicker of tears in his own eyes as well. 

Arnav felt a lump in his throat. It was a pity to realize he had been surrounded by the best of women despite being a terrible man. 

There was a time where if asked who he could’ve spent a lifetime with, it would be Lavanya Kashyap. 

“Arnav, please don’t,” Lavanya whispered. Let Arnav be guilty enough to at least give her a few days of affection before the doom she anticipated. For once he became the ASR she knew.

The one who took her to dates to the fanciest of restaurants, booking the cozy booths where he’d hear her endless frustrations of the press and terrible fashion trends with a barely there smile. 

The one who grumbled at every gift she gave him, but had them delicately stored in some corner of his office - be it a paper weight or a Mont Blanc pen. The one who’d often stop by her place for a cup of coffee and an hour of silence as they heard Jazz. The one who’d indulge her when she’d drag to him to dance with her in her quiet apartment, the radio fading as she’d undo his tie while he pulled down the zipper of her dress. 

“I am so sorry La,” He whispered, touching his forehead to hers. 

“Fuck, they were right.” Lavanya whispered, glad to finally utter an expletive in this house. No one thought they’d last. Most viewed her as Arnav’s latest arm candy - but hell he barely had the time to date and she had believed, so strongly, that what she and Arnav shared was beyond the rumors. 

Arnav looked at her in confusion, Lavanya smiled as a tear slipped through.

“The papers. They were right. Everyone was. And the problem is, I won’t be able to justify to anyone that I wasn’t a ‘phase’” Lavanya chuckled, being able to imagine the headlines. How wouldn’t she - marketing and PR was her speciality. 

“Fuck the papers. You were a lot more. You are a lot more. It’s precisely why I can’t do this anymore.” Arnav said, wishing for once that he could’ve loved her for her sake. 

“You love me La, you always have. I don’t know why, I don’t deserve it. You deserve far more, far better. And don’t mistake this as me making a choice for you. I’m just stating facts. And the thing is the only people who were right about this is, unfortunately, my family. Di knew I was doing this to prove Nani a point. I… fuck… La you can’t be a collateral damage to my feelings.” Arnav confessed, feeling the most defeated in his life. 

He had never wanted to be like his father. He had never wanted to hurt another woman.

But just like his father he hurt the first woman who had loved him. 

“I know. I know the minute you announced our engagement that you’re going to break up with me. I know you were proving a point” Arnav was surprised, just how much had Lavanya understood? 

“The only thing I didn’t realize is who you were proving it to,” Lavanya concluded, stepping away from him. 

“La,” Arnav sighed, “I never wanted to,”

“When are you going to tell her?” Lavanya cut him off, alarming him with her question,

Arnav closed his eyes in resignation, “there’s no her,”

“ASR, I’ve always respected you for being an honest man. Don’t change that.” Lavanya’s voice held rage for the first time. 

She understood breakups, she did not understand stupidity. Just how many people was Arnav willing to sacrifice as collateral damage just because he could not understand his feelings? Hell, in no universe would Lavanya want Khushi to become the next victim. 

“La, this is not the time. I cannot take you fixing my stuff when I’ve barely apologized.” Arnav stated, and he meant it. Khushi was not important right now. 

“Oh I’ll make you apologize, don’t worry about it. After all you broke Lavanya Kashyap’s heart and more than that, your family made me wear terrible clothes ninety percent of the time,” Lavanya cracked a pained smile.

Arnav let out a hollow laugh, and held her hand. 

“No, ASR, I am serious.” Lavanya pushed his hand aside, “You can’t keep sacrificing people left right and center because you can’t figure things out. You’re an adult, act like one. And don’t think about me because I will hold you accountable for how much you’ve hurt me. But right now, you’re against time. Because as far as I know her you can chase her after she’s married but she won’t break her marriage for you. She’s a good person ASR, a bit too good.” Lavanya said, fixing her face as the rest of the family set into the dining table. 

Lavanya was right, no matter what he and Khushi were at this point, he had to be honest to both women.

But above all, he needed to have a serious chat with his family not just about his breakup but about how they’ve been grooming La all along. Yes, he enabled them, but he had to ensure that this could not happen again. 

Wasn’t Payal having similar reservations to joining the Raizada family? Mami would give her worse than what Nani handed to Lavanya. 

Granted, Akash was going to have a tougher time convincing his mother for a wedding now that Arnav was not getting married - but it was high time his younger cousin fought his own battles as well. 

— — — 

The family looked at Arnav as he sat at the first table, his face reserve. Devyani rejoiced at Arnav pulling the chair for Lavanya, passing her a smile. Manorama clapped as she watched Lavanya, in her older clothes, settle at the table. Finally, modern clothes were back at Shantivan. 

Anjali, though, closed her eyes even before Arnav opened his mouth. 

This was not going to be good. 

— — — 

This was not good, Garima concluded. This had to be Devi Maiyya’s signal that this relationship was not meant to be. First Shashi had a paralytic stroke, now Khushi was nearly saved from the jaws of death, and all these happened right around the corner of Khushi and Shyam’s engagement.

As a mother her heart trembled. She could feel her dead sister bore holes into her back every time Madhumati forced Khushi to accept Shyam as a suitor. 

Garima had promised Khushi’s happiness to her dead sister. 

Why was Khushi’s happiness not aligning to the one man who could bring stability to her life? 

“Amma,” Garima broke from her chain of thoughts and assisted Khushi to the dining table. 

“Arrey, you should’ve just called for me!” Garima admonished Khushi, fixing a warm shawl around Khushi’s shoulders. Was it just her or had Khushi grown older over the past few days?

Shyam wheeled Shashi to the dining table and sat next to Madhumati. Payal sat by Khushi’s side, nodding gently to her. What were the sisters thinking? 

“I have something to tell you all.” Khushi said.

— — —

“What? Why?” Devyani cried, she had grown to love Miss Kashyap! Yes it took her time to understand that beneath the modernity she despised, was a heart of gold she had grown to love!

“Nani, I will say this for once and only once. Lavanya deserves a lot more than what I can give. I cannot subject her to what,” maa went though. Arnav broke off, the questions over the past half hour hitting his head. Anjali was hugging Lavanya, an angry ‘I told you so’ in her eyes. 

For the first time Anjali acknowledged she failed as a sister, that she had not stepped into her mother’s shoes at all. And she made no lack in conveying so to her brother. 

Arnav accepted all the blame. 

Perhaps Nani was right that day, he was closer to his father than he thought. 

— — — 

“Jiji told me something that has just set itself in my heart.” Khushi began, her eyes misting. 

“It is so important to look at who is with us when we’re going through our worst times. And with us, actively doing things to help us. That, is an indicator of a companion far more than any fantasy.” Khushi continued, her reality becoming clear as Shyam wiped the drool from Shashi’s mouth with the gentleness of a son. 

He was unfazed when Shashi spit up the food onto Shyam’s sleeve. There was not a single trace of disgust on his handsome face. How did she never see this? 

“Shyam ji,” Shyam looked at Khushi, stunned at the beauty of her soft smile, “I am so sorry.”

“Haye re Nandkisore!” Madhumati interrupted, fearing the worst. The girl couldn’t be thinking of breaking her engagement could she? 

“I am so sorry for not seeing you,” Khushi apologized, tears flowing as her smile grew wider, “you have been there. Always. When I needed rescuing from the goons, when I needed a job, when Buaji needed help in this house, when Babuji faced a stroke. Devi Maiyya has been constantly showing me the truth but I was just unable to see it.” Khushi wiped her tears and shot him the biggest smile she had.

“So yes, to answer the question you had posed on the night you decorated my house as if the stars had been here." Khushi reminisced the day he gave her jalebis and promised her companionship. How could she have been so blind?

"Yes, I will marry you. Not for the sake of my father. Not for the sake of the society. Not for the sake of Buaji. But for myself.” 

———————————————————

A/N: Yes, I am very evil. Enjoy :D

tagging: @shaonsim @zaphbeeblebrox @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @featheredclover @goals1024 @honeybellexox @darkchocolatestuff @charucoal @thedupattaknowswhatsup @bigfatreader @lostafpanda @exosexosekai @hi-this-is-permabanned @scorpio-smiles @noor1025 @minpdnim @laad-governess @barshifan @whateverworks21 @maansiloves @samuraisamsworld @dropsofserenity @myloveforstuff @leila1 @onadaanparindey @urwatueat @dimaagkadahi @ijustchangedmyname @australian-desi @muttonthings @eunoiabeyours @aye-masakalii  (updating this list - lemme know who wants to be added/deleted)

#jalebi writes #ipkknd #ipkknd ff #ipkknd: madaari #yes I am very evil #count this as what if everything went wrong

[maulfucker]

So fucked up that obimaul is a rarepair. What do you mean not everyone is obsessed with enemies to lovers with a Force connection, where one side is completely obsessed with the other who barely acknowledges him (but is just as affected)

#hm i should make an original post tag #obimaul #like. say what you want but obi-wan saw a random dathomirian zabrak and immediately went 'maul?? alive??' #he DOES care about maul he just doesn't actively seek him out like maul does #post prompted by this song that makes me think about Maul in his crime lord era‚ all the luxury of the world within his reach‚ #but none of it satisfies him because what he really wants is to find (and kill) kenobi #'another night up in the best suite; everything's gone wrong already‚ my body admits; dreaming so high the floor is the limit; #once again i got lost.. [...] another night i give myself‚ top of a skyscraper; i'm the king of the world‚ dreams for rent; #and when i look at myself i sigh with a low voice‚ 'i don't feel bad i just feel nothing'' #(<- song is são paulo‚ 2015 by jão) #it's a song about feeling dissatisfied with the life of fame because there's an emptiness he can't fill with sex drugs or luxuries #and from the context of the album it's likely he's thinking about a past lover he's still not over #so. imagine with me. #i might make something out of this. maybe. #but like. posting about songs that make me think obimaul thoughts. not very productive. almost no audience. #... and while making this post i've been attacked by yet another song with a very obimaul words #'lie to me‚ run from me‚ we swear it doesn't count‚ in this way of ours‚ but it's not because i hate you that i can't kiss you anymore' #<- pilantra by jão and anitta