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andypantsx3 · 20 days

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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4

Then

It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.

You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.

After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.

He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.

That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.

You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.

You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.

You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?

“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”

“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”

The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.

She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.

“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.

As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.

“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.

Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.

He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.

“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.

Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”

Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.

“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.

“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.

“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.

Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.

“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.

You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.

His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.

“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.

You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.

Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.

By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”

“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.

“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.

Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.

“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.

That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.

Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.

A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”

A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.

You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”

Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.

And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.

You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.

Now

Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.

Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.

Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.

You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.

“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.

“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”

That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.

“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.

Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.

“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.

The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.

“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.

“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”

Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.

“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.

But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.

The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.

You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.

Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.

Purportedly.

“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”

You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”

“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.

You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.

And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.

The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.

“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”

Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.

On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”

You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”

Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”

You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.

“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”

Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.

“Wow, good for him,” you said.

“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”

And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.

Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.

And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.

Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.

Yeah. He was most probably an omega.

“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.

Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.

“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.

You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.

When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.

The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.

Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.

The house said otherwise.

Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.

“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.

Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.

You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.

Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.

“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.

“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.

“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.

“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.

“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.

It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?

You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.

That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?

Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.

You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.

No. No fucking way.

Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.

An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.

Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”

He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”

You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.

“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.

“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”

Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.

“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.

“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.

“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.

Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”

You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.

“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”

Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.

“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”

“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”

“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.

You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.

You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”

You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”

“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.

Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”

Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”

“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”

“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.

Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.

You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”

“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.

“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.

You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.

“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.

You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.

“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.

Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.

Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.

You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”

Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”

A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.

“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.

But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.

The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.

And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.

You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.

After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto x y/n #todoroki shouto imagine #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

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hunnieknight · 5 months

Note

Hello!! Hello!!

May I request the genshin characters on what kind of Minecraft player they would be when playing with the reader

Like would they gather flowers for the reader before starting any progress in the game

Or do they do everything from making the beds to finding diamonds while the reader just playfully mingles around

You know, take your time on this and thank you if you take this request

Bai bai!! :D

"Chaotic Server"(Art Only)

You created a minecraft server to play with your friends. What kind of players are they?

A.K.A assigning Genshin character and their role in minecraft server.

GN! Reader, everyone is stupid and dumb (lovingly), you are the server admin, and everyone wants your attention I guess, messy art!!

A/N: This was Requested way before Fontaine debut

Big thanks to my friend who helped me with the Gamertag

Go ahead make headcanons or fic inspired by this!

----

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workinatdapyramid · 9 months

Text

august 𐐪𐑂

steven conklin x fem!fisher!reader

WARNINGS: fighting, cursing, underage drinking, shayla isn’t in this soz, angsty teens lol, mentions from scenes in the books!, reader doesn’t like taylor, book taylor personality ( show taylor >>>> )

SUMMARY: it wasn’t belly that found out about taylor and steven, it was his best friends little sister

m’s blah blah blahhhhh: we need some more steven appreciation on here… GIVE MY SWEET BOY SOME RECOGNITION!!!

take a peak ;)

this is kind of long… i kinda got carried away LOLZ SORRT NOT SORRY

* .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“twenty bucks she calls you jeremy again.” belly chuckles.

you, belly, and your older brother stood at the curb waiting for bellys best friend taylor at the bus stop. today was bellys 16th birthday which meant hurricane taylor visiting for the day.

you weren’t exactly fond of her ever since the summer she came to visit when you guys were 14. yes, you had to play nice with her for belly but stringing along your older brother jeremiah wasn’t exactly a good start to a friendship.

you chuckled beside the newly 16 year old as jere teasingly pushed her into you from his place beside her.

“i don’t.. i think she learned from last time.” he argued. “you think?” you teased, making a mental note that jere will infact be handing over that $20 before the end of the night.

“that’s how she flirts with you” belly mocked facing you as you both made smooching noises.

the bus pulled up infront of you guys, the brakes making a loud hissing noise.

“here she comes.” you say rolling your eyes as the short girl barely fits through the bus doors with the pile of balloons tied to her wrists.

the long time best friends squeal and hug reuniting for the first time since summer began causing you to roll your eyes even more.

jere turns toward you mouthing be nice

“belly you tart! you finally took my advice this outfit is snatched,” taylor spun the brunette in a circle admiring her dress. “isn’t belly looking like a snack?” she asked jeremiah a hint of something mischievous in her eyes.

“always.” the curly headed blonde smiled. he reached for taylor’s bag being the kind boy your mother raised him to be. taylor smirks batting her eyelashes up at the tall boy.

“thank you. you’re such a gentleman, jeremy.” she giggles.

you stood off to the side watching the interaction laughing to yourself knowing your brothers going to be $20 short when we get home.

“hey taylor long time no see.” you smiled offering the girl a polite side hug.

“omg y/n i didn’t even see you there, when did you get hot?” she questioned looking you up and down.

gosh this was going to be a long day.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

you sat beside taylor, jeremiah and belly across from you. a banana float melting in the middle of the table as belly opened her gift from her best friend. a pink bikini. jeremiah teased her about but you knew deep down he can’t wait to see her in it.

taylor takes a bite of the frozen treat as she said, “okay, so, whats the plan for tonight? where’s the party?”

“well, susannah always plans a big lobster dinner.” belly smiles as she puts the bathing suit back in the bag.

you and jere smiling towards each-other, being big fans of the birthday dinner tradition.

“boring. no.” taylor whines causing the three of you to look towards her with furrowed brows. “it’s your 16th birthday. we have to go out” the red head continued.

“no, no, no. these dinners are really, really fun.” belly tried to reason with her stubborn friend.

“yeah, and my mom had the idea to make it midsommar themed, so she got flower crowns especially made for us and everything.” you added taylor quickly glances at you then turns back towards her best friend.

“don’t you think you should be spending your birthday with people your own age?” taylor says taking another spoonful into her mouth.

“i am. you’re here.” belly said clearly annoyed by her bossyness.

“hello? am i invisible?” jeremiah cuts in trying to defuse the tension. he was really good at that. “and i guess steven.” taylor smirks. you shift uncomfortably hoping no one notcied. your brother obviously did scoffing at taylor’s remark.

you look towards belly, her already looking back. everyone in the house knows about your crush on steven the same way they knew about belly with conrad. ever since you were younger the boy was your prince charming. always being there in to cheer you up or piss you off but hey, that’s steven.

“and cams coming, too.” belly quickly changes the subject. you sigh silently thanking her.

“yay, i’m so excited to meet the guy who finally got you to take your eyes off of you-know-who.” taylor jokes.

as quickly as belly was to change the subject she quickly regretted it.

“taylor.” belly warned glancing towards jeremiah.

you coughed.

way to go taylor.

queen of making people feel uncomfortable..

“i have an idea. we can go to nicole’s big blowout at her place tonight. maybe go after dinner?” jere once again defusing the tension

you watched as taylor started at belly

“um yes!” taylor squealed in a matter of fact voice.

“woah, only if bells wants to go? it’s her birthday after all. we gotta do what whatever she wants. boring dinner or not.” you tell taylor not missing the look she gave you. you felt jeremiah lightly kick your leg under the table. you looked towards him. giving him a ‘what?’ expression.

you know how taylor can make belly feel like a side character most of the time and you’ll be dammed if you let taylor do that on her birthday.

belly smiles toward you silently thanking you for having her back.

“who’s nicole?” taylor asked jeremiah turning her harsh glance away from you.

belly smiles excited to fill in her best friend with the plans she’s made over here in cousins.

“she’s my big sister for the deb ball. she’s super nice and just really cool and fun and-

“ugh, i’m, like melting right now. can we go back to the house? i want to change into my bikini and jump in the pool.” taylor interupts belly looking at jere as she finished her sentence.

you roll your eyes standing up from the table as jeremiah says sure

taylor skips toward the car

jeremiah walking next to her as she called shot gun.

“come on bells.” you say putting your arm around her shoulders offering her a sympathetic smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

back at the house you, belly, jeremiah, steven, and taylor were in the pool. belly and taylor on one side jeremiah and steven on the other side.

you swam towards the two boys who were hanging off the edge of the pool deck.

“oh hey y/n/n you spying on us?” jeremiah teased. you rolled you eyes splashing him with the cold water. you hated when he called you that. stupid nickname that only reminded you of being a kid.

“stop calling me that i’m not five anymore.” you stuck your tongue out at him, he playfully did it back.

“yeah man cmon y/n’s all grown now. she’s not my little y/n/n anymore.” steven jokingly puts his hand over his heart in agony.

you dunk his head under the water in return, trying to hide your blush from him. it was moments like these where you had hope for something more. where you didn’t just feel like his best friends little sister anymore.

steven quickly comes up from the water his dark wet hair covering his eyes.

“oh yeah?” he challenged lifting you up and dunking you under the water.

you resurface hearing jeremiah and him share a laugh and a high five.

“oh screw you steve-o” you yelled splashing the boy who had your heart.

“any time any place.” he smirked.

gosh that smirk

jeremiah fake gags as your cheeks stained a pretty pink. steven always knew how to give you butterflies.

“we know you’re gossiping about us over there.” you hear taylor say causing stevens glance to change towards her.

as quickly as he gave you butterflies they were fast to be replaced with a pit in your stomach. you shift your gaze down as the two go back in forth with playful banter.

“let’s play chicken! i call steven!” taylor yelled.

you quickly moved towards the pool stairs to hide your frown from the others.

“i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help with dinner.” your voice barely above a whisper. the cool breeze causing you to shiver as you climb out of the pool

“you sure y/n/n?” jeremiah asks you, clearly noticing your mood change.

“yeah it’s fine there was an uneven amount anyways.” you grab your towel and head for the house not turning back

jeremiah turns towards belly, both teens sharing a knowing look.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

you sat on the couch of your second home sulking in your wet towel. mentally cursing at yourself for letting her get to you. you should be out there having fun. it’s bellys birthday for crying out loud.

your thoughts were soon cut short as connie, your oldest brother walks into the living room.

“hey dimples,” he says standing behind your seat on the couch, “why aren’t you out there with the others?” he asks ruffling his calloused hand through your wet hair.

you softly smile at the nickname. connie called you that ever since you guys were younger. oh how you missed your sweet brother

“taylors here.” you mutter pushing his hand away. he chuckles plopping himself down on the couch next to you. “aw, you mean your best friend?” he teases. “yeah fuck you” you shove him lightly chuckling.

“you can’t let her get to you kid. that’s just how she is” he sighs.

“yeah the same girl that hates you because you didn’t like her that summer she was like 14? that’s just how she is.” you roll your eyes doing finger quotes at the last part. connie laughs.

“why don’t you just tell steven how you feel already so you can stop sulking around all summer?” he asks.

you quickly sit up turning towards him with wide eyes. “you’re one to talk mr dark and mysterious. i don’t see you confessing your undying love for belly!” you challenge him reaching over smacking him with a throw pillow.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about… shut up.” he whispers.

you laugh shifting closer to your brother you lay your head on his shoulder. “besides he only see me as a kid anyways. i’ll always be just conrad and jeremiah’s little sister to him.” you sigh closing your eyes.

you stay like that for a while. just enjoying eachothers company. ever since april conrad’s been distant towards everyone so you miss having moments like these with your brother.

“aw my sweet angels.” you hear your mom squeal as she walked into the kitchen.

“hi mom hi laur.” you smile getting up from the couch and greeting your favorite women with a hug.

“do you need help with those?” conrad points to the brown bag full of corn on the counter.

“yes actually, we were supposed to keep dinner light but you know your mom.” laurel playfully side eyes her best friend.

“what?! it’s bellys 16th birthday.” she smiles. “and she’ll love it mom.” you smile back.

“wanna shuck these for us since your not busy?” susannah asked you and conrad pointing towards the corn.

“omg do you hear that? yeah i think bellys calling me. i gotta go hang with taylor and the birthday girl sorry love you bye!” you quickly run back outside.

“i’ll do it mom.” conrad rolls his eyes grabbing the bag.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

once outside you see steven sitting on the porch and jere climbing out of the pool. taylor and belly were probably off walking along the shore down by the beach.

jeremiah notices you and takes his leave inside claiming his need for a shower leaving you and steven outside.

“are you alright?” steven asks straining his neck to look at you standing behind him. "you kind of left in a hurry before."

you walk over sitting next to him on the porch steps.

“i’m fine conklin.” you laugh shifting your arms around your stomach. you tried so hard not to seem nervous around him but he could read you like a book.

steven chuckled looking away from you back towards the ocean. “okay.” he laughs. “but you could talk to me about anything. i’m serious i’ll always be here for you y/n/n.” he says more seriously this time.

you turn to him to see he was already looking at you. you search for something to say, anything, but you couldn't so you settle for a comforting smile. your breathe starts to quicken as you realize how close you guys were. steven noticed it too. his chest moving up and down at a fast pace.

“i just sometimes wish things were different.” you whispered half hoping he didn’t hear you but you knew he did.

“how so?” he whispered back. his gaze locked on your eyes intense.

for a moment you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked to your lips then back up to your eyes but theres no way.. right?

steven wouldn’t kiss you.. would he? no.

he just sees you as his best friends little sister. nothing more…

you're internally screaming as he slowly leans in

your eyes flutter shut waiting to feel his soft lips against yours

this is it.

finally

this is what you’ve wanted your whole life.

“oh hey y/n” you hear taylor yell as her and belly walk back up to the house.

steven quickly jumps up not saying a word as he rushed into the house.

you wanted to die.

just shrivel up and die.

you blink rappidly getting rid of the tears forming in your eyes and smile up towards the two girls.

“i’m starving! let’s go wash up before dinner.” belly smiles pulling you up from the steps and walking into the house.

it’s just one day it’s just one day it’s just one day

you kept reminding yourself as you trailed behind the hurricane pouring on your love life

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

the table was littered with plates filled with delicious food. there was vases of flowers in the middle that matched with the flower crowns on belly, taylor, and your heads. the dinning room was filled with chatter and giggles from everyone getting along.

susannah and laurel sat on opposite ends of the table refilling the hungry teenagers plates. taylor, belly, you, and cam on one side and jere, conrad, and steven on the other.

“thank you so much for having me susannah! my moms says hi.” cam, bellys boyfriend smiled holding his fork up to show his thanks for the food.

you laugh along with the others as the moms interrogate bellys first boyfriend. cam cameron was the nickname everyone called him. you liked him. it’s like he fit right in with the rest of you guys. you were so happy for belly.

“why don’t you eat meat, cam cameron?” jeremiah asked the shy boy. he tries his best to seem intimidating but ultimately cracks his signature smile. classic jere.

“i like animals.” he answered simply. not bothered by all the questions thrown his way.

you adjust the flower crown on your head accidentally making eye contact with steven. you guys haven’t spoke since almost kissing on the stairs. you intend to keep it that way not wanting to have that talk.. the 'you're my best friends little sister we can't do this' talk.

you quickly look away feeling the pit in your stomach return.

“just don’t come for my leather jacket.” taylor chuckles from the other side of the table. you genuinely laughed. she was kinda funny sometimes.

your laugh quickly disappeared once you heard steven teasing her. he just always had an answer when it came to taylor didn’t he.

you finish the rest of your lobster with a sigh patting your well fed stomach.

“that was really good mom.” you said. causing sighs in agreement around the table.

“i agree! thank you too y/n. kinda glad you went inside to help cook after all.” steven said looking at you. the first thing he said to you since what happened on the porch. you look at him with a blank expression.

jeremiah changes the subject going right back to interrogating cam cameron about eating meat which ended in him quickly pecking bellys lips.

you laugh but quickly glance towards conrad who was already looking back down at his plate.

steven and jeremiah both pretend to retch. “i’m sorry i just don’t understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in the bathtub.” classic steven says embarrassing his little sister.

“i was like two years old!” belly argues

“two? more like six!” jeremiah and steven yelled at the same time. the two immature boys erupt in laughter.

you playfully roll you eyes at the two while belly yells at her brother to shut up.

“i remember when i visited last summer, and you and you dared him to pee in the fireplace, and you stink up the entire house for days. do you remember that?” taylor points towards your brothers and steven. you all laughed reliving all the memories this house held.

“you know i’m thinking.. maybe we should go to nicole’s party.” belly turns toward taylor and you smiling.

“yes!” you and taylor said at the same time.

boy did you need alcohol in your system after the day you had.

after a few more jokes and steven and bells bickering everyone decided to get ready for the party.

you were touching up your makeup in your bedroom when you heard a knock at your door.

“its open” you said not looking towards the door as you reapplied your mascara.

“hey little fisher” you heard steven say as he closed the door. you almost dropped the mascara wand. you turned around facing him uttering a small hey.

“i know we are about to leave for the party but do you think when we get back home we could talk about what happened on the porch?” you could tell he was nervous. he didn’t meet your gaze at all and he was fidgeting.

“but nothing happened on the porch” you felt a pang in your chest.

he sighed, “i know but that’s the thing..” he said stepping closer to you. “i wanted something to happen.” he finished.

you swallowed. “oh” was all you could say.

you guys stood there for a while. silence filled the room.

“i also wanted it to happen. so yes, we can talk about it when we get home” you smile. you can’t believe this is happening right now.

“okay.” he smiled

“okay.” you said as he turned around to leave your room looking back at you one last time.

once you were sure he walked away from the door you jumped up and down looking at yourself in the mirror.

“fuck yeah y/n fuck yeah.” you whispered to yourself smiling ear to ear.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

gotta give it to jere he always knew how to make a scene. you and belly sat on the couch hysterical watching cam cameron and jeremiah singing horrendously along to summer loving.

maybe coming to the party was a good idea after all. “i can’t stand to watch this any longer i’m gonna go find a bathroom.” you laughed getting up from the couch.

you squeezed through all the drunken bodies dancing together on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. you found nicole standing by the drink table.

“oh hey y/n” she greets you with a tight hug. “are you having fun?” she asks taking a sip from whatever was in her cup.

“actually i really am. you sure know how to throw a banger.” you said cringing at yourself. god why are you so awkward.

nicole just smiled

“hey um where’s the bathroom?” you asked actually needing to pee after all.

“the one downstairs has a line it hasn’t moved in ages so just go upstairs! it’s right to your left!” she said.

you thanked her as you made your way towards the stairs. jeremiah, belly, and cam standing near by.

“hey have you seen taylor?” belly asked you. you shook your head no. “i'll help you find her after i use the bathroom?” you ask. she thanked you.

the music faded as you walked up the stairs of nicole’s house. yeah the beach house was big but nothing compared to this. if you didn’t ask nicole where to go you definitely would’ve gotten lost.

you opened the door on the left but it was preoccupied by a couple hooking up. you quickly muttered sorry as you closed the door shaking your head to forget the sight.

you kept looking for an open room hoping to find one with a bathroom in it.

gosh how you hated horny drunk teenagers.

you opened the last door praying to all the gods it was free and had a bathroom. you were about to piss your pants.

you opened the door and all of a sudden the urge to pee was gone.

there in the room was taylor propped on the dresser making out with steven.

your steven.

he was standing between her legs. his hands on her waist as they made out.

your mouth was dry

you couldn’t process the scene in front of you.

you wanted to crumble to the ground and cry.

“conklin?” your voice cracked as steven whipped his head around to see you standing at the door.

taylor quickly hopped off the dresser pulling her dress down.

“oh, my god- shit” steven said as you turned around and made a beeline for the stairs.

“y/n wait!” he yelled as he ran after you.

you made it to the bottom of the stairs causing a few people to look at you running away from the brunette boy.

“y/n/n? what happened?” jeremiah was the first to notice you. you wiped the fallen tears from your cheeks as belly and cam also noticed you.

by then steven caught up to you. you went to run out of the house but was quickly stopped by him gradding your wrist.

“y/n just stop let me explain-

“explain what steven?” you yelled.

if no one noticed before they definitely noticed now.

the chattering around the house quickly stopped as you yelled at steven.

“y/n please. i’m sorry it just happened.” steven tried to plead with you. regret written all over his face.

you looked at him in disbelief.

“go to hell.” your yelled you voice broke as the tears kept spilling from your eyes.

you yanked your wrist from his grasp and looked at belly. mascara stained your cheeks. “i found taylor” you whispered before walking out the door. leaving steven there, carrying your broken heart along with his..

* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

AHHHH TYSM FOR READING THIS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ( pls be nice this is my first actual fic i’ve written! )

#workinatdapryamid #x reader #drabbles #headcannons #the summer i turned pretty #steven conklin #steven conklin x reader #tsitp s2 #tsitp steven #steven x y/n #🎫#tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x reader

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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months

Note

Hello!

I wanted to order something from Wonka (2023) because I fell in love with it after watching the movie! So if possible, I would like something fluff in which Reader and Wonka are mutually in love but neither has enough confidence to declare themselves and Noodle helps them both to tell each other their feelings. (sorry if I didn't understand, the english isn't my first language)

A little push [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

note: first of all, I want to tell you not to worry because English is not my first language either (i'm Mexican, where are u from?) and second, I loved writing this, I had fun and I think I got a little excited with the words count, haha. I hope you enjoy!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

“Everything is amazing!” Noodle squealed, as he walked down the stone hallway and looked around with absolute fascination: from the chocolate river to the glass ceiling through which you could look at the blue sky.

After you had gotten rid of the Chocolate Cartel and the rest of the group had returned to their normal lives, Willy had finally started his dream of building a chocolate factory. Now that it was finally finished, you and Noodle had been the first in the world to have the privilege of seeing it. You had stayed in touch, of course, although it was almost always when he went to town in search of some materials for his creations, to sell chocolates on the streets or to work on rebuilding the store at the Galeries Gourmet.

"So you think?" he asked, smiling. He loved the girl as if she were his little sister and you imagined that her approval would prove to be quite important.

“Of course, it's magnificent,” she assured him. You looked out at the grass and waved at the little orange man (who you now knew was called Lofty) who was drinking from a small cup “Is the river real chocolate?”

“Of course it's real chocolate, who do you think you're talking to?” he murmured, almost offended “Go explore and eat whatever you want. I accept suggestions for improvements” Willy indicated to your friend, who smiled at you apologetically and bolted towards the glass bridge section.

“I think we'll finish the merchandise before the opening,” you joked and then Willy seemed to remember your presence.

His smile was extremely sweet when he turned to you to offer you to take his arm, like a gentleman, and so you began walking, a little slower and a shorter distance.

“It would be impossible, I assure you.”

“How have sales been?” you questioned and then he began to give you a summary of everything.

Abacus was still his trusted accountant so this whole matter was well monitored, which allowed him to make all the movements, purchases, and remodeling. While Noodle (whose name you knew wasn't hers, but you kept calling her that out of habit) was lost in the recesses of the enchanted castle you seemed to be in.

"A flower?" he offered you suddenly, leaning down to pull one of the ones growing on the floor.

"It is eatable?"

“Everything here is edible,” he said cheerfully. “Except me, I guess.”

“Maybe you are, although I think you'd taste quite peculiar,” you said in a soft, teasing voice, hoping he'd catch at least a little of your flirtation.

After everything you had been through at the launderette, as well as the time you had lived together after that, you had become good friends, but little by little you had begun to feel something else blossoming inside you. The boy was handsome, you had realized this from the first moment you saw him, but the more you lived with him you began to realize the great qualities he had. It was much worse when you added to all this the sweetness with which he always treated you and how attentive he was towards everything you wanted.

That's why you threw in some flirtatious comments from time to time, to test the waters, observe his reactions, and thus build an image in your mind to know if you had at least a chance.

“Let's find out,” he said, and your breathing hitched for a moment, but it came out as a chuckle when you saw him lick the back of his hand “Not that unpleasant, though a little salty, I’d say.”

You had to admit that you would have liked to see how your friend tasted differently, but for now you would just let it go. Maybe he was very innocent or maybe he didn't like you.

“What are you working on now? Something new?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your flower. It was delicious.

"Yeah! Actually yes. Now I'm thinking about creating a chocolate whose flavor contains the three meals of the day, so people who don't have much money could buy it and have the pleasure of the three foods. Oh, and I want to expand the sweets to sell in the store, not only chocolates, but also gum, candies, gummies... What do you think about that?

“Sounds like an excellent idea, Willy” you smiled. He separated from you when you reached the edge of the river falling from the waterfall, where he theatrically removed his hat to pull out a cup that he filled with liquid chocolate and then held out in your direction.

"Do you want?”

“I can drink a little,” you replied, while you took the porcelain container with your fingers and took a sip of the contents. There was something special about his chocolates that you still didn't understand, but he made them a thousand times more enjoyable. “Hhm-mmm.”

“All the chocolate is in constant motion, which makes it beat better and taste smoother,” he explained to you, as he got completely excited when it came to talking about the chemistry behind his creations. You noticed that he was looking at your lips and you were about to say something when he spoke: “You have a little… over there.”

"Here?" you asked, stretching your tongue in the direction where he had pointed, but Willy continued to look at you with some amusement.

“No, in… right there, uh… wait” he murmured and seeing your failed attempts to get rid of the stain he took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket “Let me help you.”

Willy took a step towards you and you gasped when one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, as if he didn't want you to move your face. The other, with the help of the handkerchief, gently passed the corner of your lips.

You took the opportunity to look at him carefully, trying to record as many details as possible: some freckles that he had on the bridge of his nose, a trace of facial hair that he probably shaved in the morning, his bushy eyebrows above his beautiful eyes framed by long eyelashes and finally her pink lips that were pressed in on themselves as a sign of concentration. He was so handsome and so close to you that you were getting nervous.

He, unbeknownst to you, had his own swirl of emotions. The skin of your face that he was holding was soft and in that position it would have been enough to lean in a little to capture your lips with traces of chocolate, without you even noticing it and, probably, without you being able to deny it for a moment. But he didn't want to do that to you, he knew it wasn't correct and after all he didn't know if you felt the same way.

He hummed a word to let you know he was done and suddenly the two of you found yourself looking straight into each other's eyes, lost in each other's gaze. Just two fools in love who didn't realize it.

"What are you doing?"

You separated abruptly when you heard the voice of the girl, who had apparently been watching you for a few seconds, and looked at her accompanied by Lofty. Both of them were smirking.

“Huh, she… had some chocolate on her face and I…”

“Willy helped me remove it” you completed. You didn't even understand why you guys were nervous, it wasn't like you guys were doing anything guilty.

“Do you guys want to go see my lab?” Wonka murmured, trying to divert attention from whatever had happened just a moment ago. “You're going to love it. “I’ll even let you make a chocolate if you want, Noodle.”

“Okay,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders, but giving you a look that clearly meant: we'll talk about this later.

When they began to walk, Willy turned for a second to look at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher and then he returned his gaze to the front, just so that you wouldn't see the blush that had painted his cheeks.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

"Talk about what?" you asked absentmindedly, punching your pillow to soften it.

You and Noodle shared a room because you still couldn't find a place to settle and, furthermore, you had been hired at the library so there was no problem for Dorothy with you staying with them.

“Talk about how you and Willy almost kissed.”

“We weren't going to kiss!” you screeched immediately, turning violently to look at the girl.

“Well, that's what it seemed like. He had his hand on your face and you were so close.”

“He was just helping me remove a stain,” you defended yourself, although it was obvious that you had gotten nervous.

What if he had tried to kiss you? you suddenly asked yourself. No, it was impossible.

“But you like him.”

“Noodle,” you squeaked under your breath, “What kind of questions are those?”

“Oh, you like him!” she concluded. For the girl, the fact that you were evading an answer was an answer in itself. “I knew it.”

“You can't tell him,” you said, resigned that the girl wouldn't let the matter go so easily. “You have to promise.”

"Why not? Maybe he likes you too”

“Well, I prefer not to know that,” you lied. It was obvious that you wanted to know, but you were too worried about ruining your friendship with him to do any real research.

"What is it that you like the most about him?"

"Stop"

“I won't tell him!” the little girl said, raising her hands in surrender. “I swear. I just want to know how it feels, I have never fallen in love with anyone."

The excitement in the girl's eyes ended up convincing you to talk to her about your feelings for your mutual friend and after letting out a deep sigh you sat down on the mattress, patting the spot next to your side as an invitation for her to sit too.

“You must swear to me that you will not tell him. Please,” you warned her and she nodded frantically. “I like his eyes.”

“I knew it,” she said again, victorious. “What else do you like about him?”

You thought the real question was: was there anything you didn't like about him?

“I really like that he is so kind to everyone. And I like that he is a dreamer, I like his curly hair and his strange clothes. I like when he’s cordial with me and I also like that he talks so… I don't know, so softly, you know what I mean?” you asked and she nodded excitedly.

Talking about it with someone was, in a way, very liberating and once you started you couldn't stop. You spent a long time talking about him, gossiping about the little moments that you thought meant some sign and listing your fantasies, while your friend listened attentively.

As the words left your mouth, you convinced yourself more that it wasn't just a crush, but that you were actually in love with that boy. And it scared you, to be honest.

“Will you ever tell him? “You would make a nice couple.”

"That's what you think?” you asked amused. You had already attacked a stock of chocolates that Willy had given you when he left the factory. “Well, I don't know, Noodle. If one day the conditions are right and he gives me some sign, I guess so."

The girl laughed to herself and registered her information in her mind, certain that very soon you would receive that signal and she would personally take care of it.

“Willy!” The man listened and when he turned in the direction of the voice, he found the unruly hair of his little friend.

“Darling, hello,” he greeted cordially, while he bent down a little to give her a hug “What brings you here?”

“I had a break at the library and I wanted to come see if you were here,” she smiled. The store was packed with people, as always, but they were in a quiet enough section “And I also wanted to ask for your help.”

“Sure, whatever you want”

“It's about Y/N,” Noodle said. Noticing that the man's posture straightened a little, she smiled victoriously, because the mere mention of your name had already captured his attention “But you must promise not to say anything to her.”

“My lips will be sealed”

“Well, it's about a boy”

There was silence, where Wonka frowned perceptibly. Noodle couldn't be happier.

"A boy?"

“Yes, I think he likes her. He goes to the library every day just to see her and he talks to her for hours and even helps her organize some of her books. You should see them, they are so cute together. And I want to organize a date for them”

“A date?” he screeched. He felt betrayed by the girl, although she clearly couldn't read her mind and therefore she didn't know about her feelings for you.

"Yeah! I want your help because I want you to make some delicious chocolates that will make them fall in love or something like that”

“My chocolates can't make someone fall in love with someone else,” he said immediately, although that wasn't entirely true. “And why do you want her to go on a date with that guy? Does he even treat her well? What does he look like?”

It was evident that he was, to say the least, affected by the information she was giving him. She could almost say there was some anger in his voice. Or maybe it was just jealousy.

“Wow, wow, calm down Willy. I thought this would excite you.”

“Why should I get excited?” he asked, honestly confused. Noodle had the boy right where she wanted him and he wasn't realizing anything. It was perfect.

“Because she's your friend and I thought maybe you'd like to help me get her a boyfriend. I don't know, for her to be happy and all that”

Willy Wonka remained silent. He seemed to be holding something in his chest that he didn't want to let out and judging by the look on his face she believed that even he might cry. Suddenly the girl felt the man's hand take her arm to take her to an even more secluded place, far from all the curious ears.

"She likes him? You know that?"

“I don't know, she hasn't told me anything.”

Lies, pure lies. She clearly knew that you were madly in love with the boy in front of her.

“I can't do you that favor you want,” he ruled. “But could you do one for me?”

"What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be confused. He took a moment before daring to speak.

“Please distract that boy. Don't let him get close to her."

"And why?"

“Because I like her,” he finally breathed out.

Bingo, she had gotten just what she wanted.

"No way! Are you talking seriously?"

“Yes, but you can't tell anyone, do you understand?”

“Well, it wouldn't be any use for me to tell someone if she is in love with that boy.”

“Don't you dare think about it,” her friend whimpered. There was no such thing as a suitor of yours and she felt like laughing, but she stopped herself. “She seems very interested?”

“Well, not that much, but he will be soon if he keeps acting like that with her.” Noodle snorted and then he pursed his lips and cursed under his breath, “Unless…”

"That?"

“No, it's nonsense”

“Tell me,” he asked, obviously distressed. He really liked you and he didn't want there to be a chance of someone else winning your heart.

“Well, I think she might lose interest in him if you tell her what you feel, don't you think?” she argued.

“What if she doesn't like me?”

“You won't know if you don't tell her!” She mumbled, feeling the same frustration she felt when she had that conversation with you. “Listen, you remember the flamingos at the zoo, right?”

"Aha"

“And do you remember that they didn't fly until they knew they could escape? If they hadn't flown, they would still be there. They had to do it to discover that there was a world out there, you know what I mean?”

“I don't think so,” he replied, concerned, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“What I'm trying to say is that you should tell her if you want to know if she feels the same way. And who knows, maybe so” she murmured. If you knew what she was doing you'd probably be strangling her, but she just hoped everything turned out okay.

The man thought seriously for a moment, with his gaze lost as if he were immersed in his own world, and then he looked at the youngest.

“Well, how do I do that?”

Noodle jumped a little with excitement and pulled her friend to her until they reached a place to sit, prepared to talk to him as much as necessary for him to confess his feelings for you. Willy listened very carefully and by the end of the afternoon they already had a small plan drawn up, that with some luck she would be able to unite her two best friends into a perfect couple.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Willy felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest when he started to look for you in the library, after more than a week of his conversation with Noodle, ready to confess what he felt to you that same afternoon or die trying.

He found you in the history section, carrying a stack of books and looking for the right place to put them. Even without trying you looked very pretty and a sigh escaped him at that, while he thought why it had taken him so long to consider telling you how much he felt for you.

“Huh, hello.”

"Hello, how can I help y…? Willy?”

“That's me,” he said timidly.

“How are you?”

“Well, everything is very good” as you left the books on a shelf and approached him you noticed that he was holding a solitary flower in his hand and you asked with your eyes the reason for it “Oh, this one is for you. It's not chocolate, it's just that I saw it on the way and it reminded me of you, because I know that's your favorite color and because... well, because it's pretty."

“Ow, thank you,” you said tenderly, reaching out to take the present and becoming a little embarrassed. “Were you looking for Noodle?”

“No, I wanted to ask you if once you finish you would like to go for a walk to hang out and… chat. The weather is warmer than ever and spring has beautiful sunsets,” he noted. You didn't understand why he seemed so nervous, nor did you know if you were misunderstanding the situation, but you felt your face turn a barely perceptible shade of red.

“I would love to, actually. But I have to cover a shift and…”

“I'll cover it for you,” someone next to you said quickly. It was Noodle, who had seemingly arrived out of nowhere. “You guys go have fun.”

“But your mom…”

“My mom won't say anything. Come on, go” she insisted, pushing you in the direction of the exit. You didn't know what that girl was up to, but you suspected she was up to no good and gave her a warning look.

“Huh, in that case I guess there is no problem anymore. Just let me go to my room to put on some other clothes and I’ll be back, okay?” you said with a smile. You looked at the girl again, as if searching for an answer, but this time she didn't even notice your look, so you went straight to what you needed.

Once there you took the opportunity to comb your hair, put on some cologne, brush your teeth, put on a pretty necklace, and things like that, hoping to look a little prettier for him.

You placed the flower on your shelf with special care and smiled at the boy's kind gesture towards you. When he said that it reminded him of you because it was pretty, was he calling you pretty? God, you hoped so.

Once you returned to where you had left him you noticed that he was waiting patiently in a chair and Noodle was nowhere to be seen, so you announced your arrival and both of you were ready to leave.

“I'm sorry I arrived unexpectedly” was the first thing he said, once you were outside. He wasn't lying, the atmosphere had started to get warmer.

“It's okay, you don't have to worry. I like surprises”

“I hope so,” he said, more to himself than to you.

You walked in silence through some houses and you took the opportunity to admire the landscape, without really knowing where you were going, but with some curiosity.

“Do you want to go to the pier?” he spoke again, because that was one of the destinations you could reach with the route you had taken “The sunset can be seen from there.”

True, he wanted to show you one of those spring sunsets.

"It's a good idea"

“Okay”

Then the man began to talk about something else, to distract his mind and to distract you, and that talk filled the silence of the entire road. When the sea was in front of you, you leaned against a white wooden railing with the sticky salt-smelling air hitting your face. You noticed that the sun had already started to set.

“The sea is huge,” you said suddenly. He leaned next to you, quite close, and this time he looked a little more confident. “Especially when the tide comes in, at this time.”

“Have you ever traveled by ship?”

“No, no,” you responded quickly. “It would be a disaster if I did that. I get dizzy easily and I would be afraid of drowning.”

“You get dizzy at first, but as time goes by you get used to it,” he assured, sounding amused at your response. “It's a good experience.”

“Did you see a lot of sunsets when you were at sea?” you asked, turning to look at him for a second and then returning your gaze to the natural spectacle.

“And sunrises too. The worst were the storms, you would imagine. But in general, there were very beautiful landscapes”

“I bet so,” you smiled. Your hair was blowing in the wind and Willy could only stare at you.

“Although I don't think any of them were as beautiful as you,” he murmured, in a tone so low that you thought you had imagined it.

You were silent for a second, watching the waves crash against the rocks, and then you were able to speak.

“You called me pretty twice today, did you even eat one of those wine-infused chocolates?” you tried to joke, to mask the fact that you were surprised and nervous in equal parts.

“No, it's not that,” he said, with a seriousness that worried you, as you were hoping he would divert the topic. “I really think you're pretty, very pretty actually. But… I mean, that's not the most important thing about you, I don't want you to think that. You were beautiful inside and out, like… your personality. It's brilliant"

“Oh, nonsense.”

“No, I'm serious.”

You could feel the few rays of sunlight that remained, in the distance, hitting your face, and when you looked at him you realized that it reflected a certain golden glow in his eyes. He was precious.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Everything around you took a backseat to the possibility that those compliments weren't just that, but something more, and then he took a deep breath before answering you.

“It wasn't a lie when I said I wanted to talk to you. It's something important to me and... well, I hope you're okay with this, because I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way."

"With what?" you insisted. A part of you told you that you were just misunderstanding everything, that he couldn't be referring to what you believed.

“Well, with the fact that I think you are a great person, that you are charismatic and kind and beautiful and that I like all of that a lot. I like you a lot"

The world stopped for a second and so did your heart. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn't a dream, but it wasn't necessary because you knew that the breeze, the sun, and the sound of the waves couldn't be the work of a dream, just as the boy in front of you who was waiting for an answer couldn't be one either.

"Really?”

“Sure, why would I lie to you?” he expressed, sincerely bewildered. An involuntary smile lit up his face and then your hand went to hold his. It was big compared to yours, and it was warm.

“I don't know where all that came from, but I'm glad you said it. Because I like you too. Like, really a lot” you said shakily, and then he could breathe again.

“You don't know how happy it makes me to know that,” he smiled, while he brought your hand to his lips and gave you a sound kiss. Suddenly his hands went to your waist and he gently lifted you off the floor, giving you a spin in the air that made you laugh. “You like me too.”

“That's right,” you said, overjoyed to know that you were reciprocated. Had Noodle had anything to do with this confession? You knew it most likely was, but you would make sure to question her later.

“I was so nervous that you wouldn't like me.”

“How could I not like you, huh?” You exclaimed, raising your hands to his cheeks to force him to look at you. “You are perfect and even sweeter than your chocolates. Of course I was going to like you."

Willy blushed at the compliment and suddenly leaned in to hug you, hiding from your gaze captivated by him as he felt unworthy of it. You smiled widely while you stood on your tiptoes and let yourself be held tightly, while you saw the sunset in the distance and you left a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering a soft Love ya in his ear, hoping that that moment would remain engraved in your memory and that it was only the beginning of many more.

Noodle, from home, was smiling just imagining what you two would be doing and, in her mind, by this point you might have even kissed.

And while it wasn't like that, either way, watching the sunset in each other's arms was much more romantic and memorable for both of you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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boiohboii · 10 months

Text

The surprise guest (who had to be protected by the host)

Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader

After Lando Norris had a make out session with YN Leclerc on his stream, it hadn't been intentional, he had been too scared to come face to face with any of his girlfriend's three older brothers. But when his girlfriend's mother invites him over for dinner, he can't just ignore her

in which Pascale Leclerc invites her daughter's boyfriend (or as she likes to call him, her fourth son) over for a family dinner

N.B: I feel like the humor isn't what most of you expected and I am so sorry, I swear I am funnier irl 😭 hope you guys like it... special thanks to @glai1023-blog and @flowerchild-96 for the idea of mama leclerc doting on Lando

For context

The brothers' reactions to the steamy stream

Social media reactions

YN had always been close to her mother, she always told her about her new hair ideas, how she wants to cook a new recipe and her crushes, so when YN started dating Lando Norris her mother was the first person to know (with the promise of not telling her brothers)

Pascale had met Lando quite a lot in the 9 months that the young couple's relationship had stayed secret from her brothers. To say Pascale adored the young Brit was an understatement.

Pascale Leclerc loved Lando Norris like her own son; she learned all his favorite foods, what are his preferred desserts and the meals he hadn't been able to taste before (so that she could make it for him)

With that being said, the Leclerc parent is always big on family. She had instilled in her childrens' head that even if you are busy, you must have a day each month for a family dinner and that all five members of the Leclerc family must be present.

Except for this month, six members were present at that dinner, and three of them were ready to kick the intruder out if it not had been for their mother hitting them on the back of their heads.

It had all started out normal- well as normal as it could be when just a week ago you had seen your sister making out with her boyfriend on live.

Pascale had been in the kitchen making dinner with the help of YN while the three male Leclercs were too traumatised by last week's events to face their sister. It's not that they didn't want to ask her questions, they really did, they wanted to interrogate her, but whenever they catch a glimpse of her they remember the phone screens showing her and her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That was one person they would love to meet. Charles could probably know where Lando Norris is whenever he wanted, that was the perks of having the same circle of friends, team workers who were also friends and same bosses. Did he want to talk to him? No. Did he want to beat him? Yes.

The doorbell interrupted the brothers creative imagination of how they could kill the British driver. As Arthur was closest to the door he went up to see who it was, not expecting the one who they murdered 100 different ways in their haeds to be standing at the door with 2 bouquets of flowers, a box of chocolate and a box of what appeared to be a cake.

"Oh, umm, hi?"

Lando was about to piss his pants, he saw that expression change on Arthur's face, and he was the youngest of his girlfriend's brothers. With every second Arthur stared at him his heart rate increased with sweat filling his palms as his throat tightened up.

"Who is it Arthur?"

Shit, fuck. Lando knew that voice all too well, and he was not ready to have his head nailed to the front of the paddock for everyone to see.

"Oh dear, hello my son, Arthur move out of the way."

The gentle voice of Pascale Leclerc stopped any and all movements in the living room.

"SON!"

The three Leclercs exclaimed in sync, looking at the young brit with wide eyes and clenched jaws.

The boys' anger increased as they watched their mother fuss over the boy, thanking him for the flowers as she called their sister to place them in a vase, giving him a hug and kissing his cheeks.

"Oh lovely, you didn't have to bring anything. Is that your favorite dessert then?"

Lando was all too aware of the three pairs of eyes staring at him, and if looks could kill he'd be 18 feet under. Gulping, he gave Pascale an awkward smile, too scared to actually utter a word.

Noticing his trembling hands and terrified glances at her sons, Pascale glared at the young men "you three! Stop it!"

"But mum-"

"No! I don't want to hear a word out of any of you if it's not going to be nice! You should respect you sister's boyfriend and my guest!"

"It's a family dinner! You never invited any of our girlfriends to a family dinner before"

"Oh my god," now that's a familiar voice Lando loves hearing "stop being babies about it."

Moving closed, YN took the flowers from Lando's hands "ohhh, mum, he got you your favourite!"

"Thank you love." Giving him a peck on the lips, YN smiled at him, and upon hearing her brothers' groans and complains she gave him a wink before kissing him again.

■■♡■■

The three Leclerc brothers were like Hyenas, waiting for their mother to stop protecting their pray so they could have a word (with their fists.)

Sitting at the couch facing the open kitchen they watched as their mother dotted over the British driver, stretching her hand for him to taste the food on the spoon before giving her a wide smile

"You three look like Scar." YN teased as she took a seat besides Charles

"Mon ange," Charles started as he rotated in his seat making him face to face with his sister "please, why didn't you tell us?"

"YN, Lando Norris, really?" Arthur whined as he looked at his younger sister, waiting for an explanation of hers.

"You three are really insufferable," YN stated as she looked at them with a devilish smirk "if you guys are wondering why i didn't tell you, it's just cause I know you three will be earing my ear off about our relationship and yes Arthur, Lando Norris, he makes me happy and he kisses me oh so-"

"LALALALALALAAA" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, making his sister laugh while their mother scolded them for the noise

"No, but really," YN took a sip of water "he is really nice to me, he treats me really well and he is so respectful-"

"Oh yeah, making out on live is oh so respectful of him" Lorenzo rolled his eyes then glared at the young boy in the kitchen, getting head pats from their mother like a golden retriever.

"Oh god, don't remind me man" Charles groaned as the image he tried so hard to erase came back much more vibrant and clearer, as if the presence of Lando just solidified it in his brain.

"Okay listen," YN huffed as she crossed her arms "if you don't like him then okay, fine, I will end it before it goes any further, but it was an honest mistake on both of out parts. We're not into that kind of thing."

"God, will you stop doing that!"

"Do you want to tramatise us?"

"Oh god, I did not need to know anything about this."

Hearing her brothers whine and groan from her teasing brings YN the greatest of joys. Was she planning on actually breaking things off for her brothers? Hell no, they're not little princesses they can keep their emotions in check.

"Mon ange, are you really sure that you like him?"

"Yes!" YN insisted as she looked at him like he grew 2 heads "will you just please get to know him?"

Sighing Charles bit his tongue, not wanting to actually upset his sister with what he really wanted to say.

"Okay mon ange, I'll talk to him and I'll make sure everything is normal," Charles got up to make his way to his mother who was now in a matching apron with Lando as he listened to her every word, basking up the praises and head pats given to him "just please, if he hurts you or if you feel like you aren't his top priority don't stick around okay. You are worth so much more than a race driver."

"Aren't you one?"

"Exactly."

With that, Charles left his siblings heading off to his mother with a pout as he spotted her patting the Brit's cheek with a full smile

"God, he's so whipped for her." Arthur told his brother, shaking his head.

"Yeah well, I told him it'd bite him in the ass someday."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"YN," Lorenzo looked at her with a blank expression "you take full advantage of it and you know it."

■■♡■■

It had been an hour and now the family of five and their guest are sitting at the dinner table, having their first bite of the homemade dinner.

"Oh, this tastes phenomenal Mrs Leclerc. I hadn't had that in a while"

"Oh dear, I'm so glad you like it!" Pascale cooed over the young boy, getting up to place more for him on his plate "YN told me it's one of your favourites."

"Thank you so much darling." Lando smiled at YN, feeling more at ease with the glares sent his way as Pascale Leclerc glared right back at her sons.

"Mum," Lorenzo started as he looked at the food in distaste "I don't eat that, you know."

"Well," the mother smiled at her son sarcastically, making sure to get her point across "if you don't like it, then don't eat."

"Oh, c'est brutal maman." Arthur murmured under his breath, looking at his oldest sibling in pity

("Oh, that's brutal mum")

"I said no French!" Pascale warned her youngest son before turning to her now favorite son "tell me Lando, do you like Vanilla cakes?"

"Not really no, but YN told me it's your favorite so I bought it from what I also believe to be your favorite dessert shop."

"Oh dear, you really are my favorite," four voices of a 'mum!' yelled in the dinning room which did not take any of Pascale's attention away from the British young man "you're going to make me swoon."

"Oh my god," YN whispered to her brothers "we lost her."

"Yeah well," Lorenzo grumbled at his sister "he is your boyfriend"

"I lost my mum to my boyfriend."

"Oh, he went out of his way to go to her favourite shop," Arthur stated "she's not letting him go anywhere."

"I think you lost both of them mon ange."

■■♡■■

{Taglist: @idaesrhy @masonspulisic}

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x leclerc!reader #lando norris x leclerc reader #charles leclerc sister #charles leclerc x sister!reader #leclerc!reader #arthur leclerc x sister reader #older brother arthur #lorenzo leclerc x sister reader #lorenzo leclerc #older brother leclerc #older brother charles #brother!charles leclerc

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sinfulpanda16 · 3 months

Text

JJK Men x Foreign Reader

Gojo Saturo, Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto x gn reader

For the most part, you and your bf live everyday life through his culture. So how would he react if he sees a glimpse of yours?

You two were doing origami together, you were making a cute swan and he was making you a flower. It was such a cute moment the two of you laughing and him occasionally giving you a few quick pecks on your face and then you get a phone call.

You look at the number "Oh it's my mom." you say smiling at your phone.

Gojo smiles "Oh it's my future mother-in-law! Go ahead and answer I'll be patient." he says giving you a smirk.

You blush and answer the call. Gojo listens to you as you say hello in your native language. You two only speak to each other in Japanese so hearing you speak your first language is so rare.

He rests his chin in his palm still listening as you continue to speak. You sound so beautiful. You look beautiful. The way you talk with your mother in her first tongue makes him melt, your voice has a different ring to it due to the different pitches. And that Accent! OMG he's fanboying now.

After the phone call ends you turn to see him looking at you in awe. "What?" you ask giggling.

He smiles "You should speak in (n/l) more often. I think you sound hot as hell." he says enjoying your reaction to that.

Your face grows red. Really? No one has ever told you that and hearing that from him made you appreciate him more because it shows that he loves you for you.

You smile at him and he kisses your cheek again and gives you a paper rose. Then in your language he said "I love you".

You were laying on the couch just staring into space. It's officially been five years since you've moved to Japan. When you were younger you're dream has always been to move to Japan and you did it. You moved to Japan, grew to live comfortably, made some friends and even met your boyfriend.

However just like everyone else who moves away, you get homesick. You think back to when you were a kid and lived with your family back at home. It seemed so long ago and then you think about the yummy food you and your family would make. You smiled softly to yourself thinking about the nostalgia.

You get up from the couch and go to the kitchen. You checked to see if you had all the ingredients you needed for your favorite dish your grandmother made for as a kid. You do, so you hurried to get started on making (f/d).

As you cooked you realized something was missing. You think about how when your grandmother used to cook she would tell you to turn on her music. You laugh softly "Aww grandma. Even now you still manage to make me play your music." you say to yourself and start playing some, with memories flowing back.

Soon after a tiring day Nanami comes back home, he sighs and takes off his coat. He hears some music coming from the kitchen but then he freezes when he realizes he can't understand it. Then he smells something good, he doesn't know what it is but he'd like to see what it is.

He heads to the kitchen and finds you there. Thats what the smell is, its you're cooking. "Y/n." you turn around to see him. He looked a bit confused, and you smiled. "Hey lover, I'm making (f/d). It's a dish my family back at home eat. Do you want to help?"

Nanami stands there for a moment, he's never tried some of the traditional food from your country or ever heard of the music, buts it's all you. All of it is your blood and honestly, he's loving this side of you. He smiles softly at, "Sure love." he says and pulls his sleeves up so he can help you.

He's walking to meet up with you. He's not paying attention to much but then he sees you from his peripheral vision. He stops and turn to look at you and you look, wow.

You stand out from the rest, you really do. He's proof lol every time someone see's you they can't help but to admire you. Geto stood there looking at you smirking.

You're (h/t) (h/c) hair is beautiful and your (s/c) skin looks so soft and delicate. You were talking to two other women who were actually asking about you and where you're from. They seemed genuinely interested and curious about your culture. The way you spoke Japanese in the cutest accent made Geto let out a chuckle. It was just too cute.

It's funny because it's obvious that you're not from around here and yet you have such a way of making the people here adore you. They complement your eyes, your voice, or your hair. If he had to pick his favorite would be your eyes. Such a beautiful color and shape. Damn, you're gorgeous he thinks to himself.

You turn to see Geto is already here. With an excited smile you say your goodbyes to the two women and head to him. "Hi my love!" you yell as you run towards him.

He smiles "Hey gorgeous" he says with wide arms for you. Yes, that's right this beautiful foreigner is his partner. You jump into his arms, and he picks you up. And this is exactly how he thinks about you every day.

The first time Toji saw you he was infatuated with you. Even he had to admit you look so beautiful and from there he didn't care. He was gonna make you his.

And he did lol.

He was sitting on the couch on his phone. Endless scrolling of nothing interesting and he started to get bored. He was about to get up but then you enter the living room wearing something he was unfamiliar with.

With a blush on your face you ask, "What do you think love?". He honestly had no idea what you were wearing but it looked cute on you.

"What is it my love?" he asks leaning forward on the couch. You tell him the name and explain to him that it's what the people in your culture wear when there's a certain occasion.

Toji smirks "Do a turn for me beautiful." he orders. Shyly, you obey and do a spin for him. You can't help but giggle when you look at his face. You can tell he approves.

He chuckles "I think it looks beautiful on you" he states. He gets up "But you know..." he makes his way over to you. You start getting uptight, you love his dominance, but you have to admit it's kind of intimidating. Soon he's towering over you. He leans down to your ear "I think it'd look better on the ground by our bed." You shiver and let him pick you up and carry you to the bedroom.

So yeah, he loves you so much and loves learning about your home and its culture.

And bruh, how did they all already know what the word for Daddy was in your language?!

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 4 months

Text

he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.

jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).

since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.

when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.

it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.

it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.

but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.

"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.

and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"

his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?

understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."

he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"

how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?

"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.

he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."

and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.

"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.

you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.

"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"

your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.

his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."

you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.

"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.

"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"

despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.

"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."

his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."

that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.

at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.

but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.

and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"

your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"

her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."

you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."

your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"

you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.

"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"

"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.

"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.

"being forgotten?" your friend asked.

"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.

"you look like you have someone in mind."

a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.

"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.

you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.

"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."

and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.

you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.

his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"

you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.

"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"

he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.

the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.

you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"

from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.

one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.

"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."

"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.

"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."

you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."

"we miss you so much. see you soon?"

you agreed, thanked her for her help.

"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."

having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.

"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.

"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."

the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.

very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.

you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.

they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."

"what if he's not interested?"

"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."

"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"

your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"

so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.

when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.

you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.

you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.

you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.

a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.

a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.

your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.

you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.

you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.

the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.

"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.

"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"

your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."

you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.

he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"

you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.

during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.

"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.

the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.

even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.

with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.

the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?

"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.

jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.

his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."

with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.

"have a game, sugar, here we go."

you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.

bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.

jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.

his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.

for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.

"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.

you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.

"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.

you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?

"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.

you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"

without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.

on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.

"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.

"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.

you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.

everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.

so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?

you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.

his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."

"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."

you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.

you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.

you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.

his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.

the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.

surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.

you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.

the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.

he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.

you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.

"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.

he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"

you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.

the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.

one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.

"alright," you chastised.

"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."

your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.

"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.

"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."

you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.

pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.

you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.

and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?

i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.

careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?

your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.

but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.

the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.

a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.

"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.

"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.

he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."

the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.

"what?" he said, grinning.

you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."

and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.

he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.

what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.

"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.

his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.

you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.

that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.

and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"

and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.

you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.

"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.

and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.

maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.

"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.

"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."

you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.

and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.

too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.

"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.

so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.

your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.

a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.

"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.

it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.

he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."

you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.

"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.

you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.

and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.

you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.

jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"

you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."

his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.

you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"

"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.

he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.

you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.

when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.

"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.

you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.

but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.

as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.

"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.

deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.

and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.

after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.

later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.

after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.

kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.

he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.

his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.

when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.

he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.

you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.

"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.

you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.

you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.

but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.

you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.

the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.

while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.

then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.

you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.

walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.

"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.

his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.

you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.

this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.

"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.

"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.

"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.

he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.

he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.

he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.

you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.

he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.

you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."

you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.

he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.

he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.

"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.

one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.

he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."

"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.

jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."

when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.

"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.

you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.

luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.

you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.

most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.

"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.

the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.

walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.

"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.

he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.

you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.

jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.

something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.

"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.

you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.

"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.

"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.

you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"

he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.

would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?

the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.

a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.

jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.

"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.

your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.

you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.

the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.

you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."

he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.

as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?

the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.

you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.

it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.

you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.

you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.

"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."

later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.

but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.

"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.

"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.

"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.

you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.

he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.

you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.

"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.

"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.

you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.

staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.

he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.

you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.

"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."

you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."

never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."

he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.

"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."

the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.

his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"

you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.

"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"

you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.

he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.

everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.

you should have known it wouldn't last long.

a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.

something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.

maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.

and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.

and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.

a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?

it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.

but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.

and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.

it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.

so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.

still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.

the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.

at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.

"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.

he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."

and that had been the end of that.

so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.

you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.

you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.

"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."

you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.

"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.

he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"

you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."

seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.

and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.

every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.

he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.

he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.

when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.

"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.

when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.

how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?

jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.

you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.

you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.

of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.

until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.

you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.

the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.

the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.

like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.

slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.

it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.

because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.

finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.

in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.

waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.

you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.

"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.

you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.

"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.

you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.

auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."

and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.

the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.

time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.

you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.

you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."

for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.

you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.

you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.

for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.

"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.

you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.

he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"

you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.

"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."

you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.

you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.

"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.

"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.

"yes."

"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.

you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."

there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."

you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."

he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."

you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."

he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.

so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.

he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.

and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.

"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."

he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.

you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."

in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.

when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."

it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.

"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.

you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.

"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.

and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.

it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.

he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.

"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.

"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."

you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.

you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.

you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.

you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.

you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.

"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."

there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.

he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.

that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.

"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.

fin.

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