#perry gets her own fic perry gets her own fic

[sergeant-spoons]

Follow Me, My Dear ~ Pt I

Perrine Blomme (Perry Bloom)

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​​​​​ @chaosklutz​​​​​​​​ @wexhappyxfew​​​​​​​​ @50svibes​​​​​​​​ @tvserie-s-world​​​​​​​​ @adamantiumdragonfly​​​​​​​​ @ask-you-what-sir​​​​​​​​ @whovian45810​​​​​​​​​ @brokennerdalert​​​​​​​​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​​​​​​​​ @claire-bear-1218​​​​​​​​ @heirsoflilith​​​​​​​​​ @itswormtrain​​​​​​​​​ @actualtrashpanda​​​​​​​​​ @wtrpxrks​​​​​​​​​

Part 1 of Follow Me, My Dear, And Know That Only I Will Follow You.

Hello, my lovelies! This fun rewrite fic is in response to this darling ask from @wtrpxrks​. 💕 The fic is written in three parts, returning to certain events throughout In Defense of Chicanery from different perspectives—specifically those of Perrine Blomme (Perry Bloom) and Joseph Toye. The first two parts will be published tonight and the third sometime in the immediate future.

Title comes from the song “Long Way Around” by The Sweeplings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thanks for the help, Toye."

"Yeah, sure thing." He shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and irony crossing his brow. "Can't believe you got stuck with unloading the trucks your first week with us."

Perry Bloom shrugged. "'S'alright. I'm used to it."

Joe Toye didn't respond, and when Perry glanced up, she could tell from the look on his face that her response had caught his attention.

"My brother plays basketball," she said, "but he's, ah... He's not so good at moving his equipment by himself."

Toye hummed but did not comment, accepting the information as simply and earnestly as Perry had hoped he would. She let out a breath of relief and turned to find the boxes to her left had gone missing.

"Toye?"

"Hmm?"

"Where'd you put the, uh..." Perry snapped her fingers, her tongue darting out the corner of her mouth. "The mortar restock?"

His hands full, he nodded over his shoulder. The boxes she'd started to move toward the mortar deck were now on the opposite end of the loading dock. One of the boxes was upside-down and now read 'ɹɐʇɹoW'. Perry's brow pinched, folding her lips together as she tried to think of a kind way to let him in on the mistake. Joe took notice and paused.

"What?"

"I could be wrong," she said, "but I'm pretty sure those're s'posed to go over there."

She pointed to where a few of the men were standing with their mortar packs and equipment. They seemed to be chuckling amongst themselves, and once they caught Perry frowning at them, they no longer bothered to hide their laughter.

"Assholes," she muttered, heading for the boxes, but Toye had beaten her to it. As she came up, she caught him muttering but couldn't quite distinguish what he was saying. Listening closer, she heaved one of the hefty boxes into her arms and followed him across the pavement. He was at least a foot taller than her—if his shadow didn't prove it, his stride sure did—and she had to awkwardly hop several times to keep up.

"Stupid," he grumbled, and though it was the first word she'd caught, Perry immediately understand what—and who—he was referring to. She stopped in her tracks, set the box down with the others, and took a good long look at him. He went back across the loading dock, grabbed another two boxes, and seemed to shove himself back over to her. She met him halfway and kept her hands raised in case one of the boxes should fall. He stumbled at the shallow incline right where the rest of the mortar supplies were and said it again—Stupid.—and Perry could see him ready to speak before she'd even finished saying his name.

"Toye-"

"I'm stupid, okay?" he snapped, shaking his head as his chin dipped toward his chest. "I'm an idiot."

Perry knew that look from her brother—shame. She never understood it from Clyde and now, coming from Joe Toye, it baffled her again. She made a face, her nose scrunching up as her mouth flattened into a displeased line. Before Toye could turn around and go back for the last box, she punched his arm to get him to look at her. It worked, and she tapped her foot on the cement, more than willing to stall their work if it meant getting to the bottom of this.

"The hell are you on about?"

He stopped, sighed, and ran his hand through his handsome hair before tucking it under his cap. Perry didn't mean to notice the handsomeness, but everything about Joe Toye was nice-looking—it was unavoidable, thinking about him like that.

"I dropped outta school when I was a kid," he said, averting her eyes. "Had to work in the coal mines so my family could eat."

Perry didn't realize her mouth had fallen open until Toye chanced a look at her and she watched his gaze harden.

"So yeah. I'm stupid. I don't know shit." He dug his heel into the ground as if it might make a dent in the concrete. "Can't even move a fuckin' box right."

"Bullshit."

His head flew up and she made sure not to disappoint him again.

"You're not stupid."

He started to scoff, but she wouldn't let him.

"You're not, Joe. It wasn't your fault you got pulled outta school. Hell, it wasn't anybody's fault—well, except maybe those Wall Street bankers that screwed us all over. Hell, I barely graduated myself."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I'm still not sure how I managed it. Had to work a job outside o' school, then two once I graduated." She laughed. "I bet they had half a mind to hold me back another year for how often I fell asleep in class. But they didn't, in the end."

"Good for you." he sighed, and though she could tell he meant it, he'd started to turn away, and that didn't seem conducive to the point she was trying to make.

"Toye- Hey-"

Perry clasped his forearm with fingers gentler than she probably should have dared. When he didn't pull away, she inched a little closer.

"You're smarter than you think. Really."

He frowned, but she shook her head, quickly going on before he could offer any rebuttal.

"I mean it! You're smart with your hands—weren't you the one that fixed the radio in Lieutenant Nixon's car the same day I got here? Yeah, I knew I had that right. And you're one helluva singer, aren't you? You know all the words to all the songs you've ever heard, and as a matter o' fact, I've never seen anybody memorize a list as fast as you."

"Never?" he asked, but the skepticism he tried to put forth was betrayed by the slight upward tug of his lips.

"You wouldn't be a staff sergeant if you were dumb," she pointed out. "Army's gotta think you're smart, too."

"Shit, you really think so."

Choosing it as a statement reassured Perry that he was really starting to believe her, and she, feeling the rush of a breakthrough, squeezed his arm and jumped just a little. Her soles barely left the ground, but then she felt embarrassed and childish, but for some reason, Toye's smile had only grown, and she wasn't about to give it up.

"I do think so, I do," she reaffirmed, dropping her hands and clasping them behind her back. "You're smarter than you think."

"C'mon, kid, you're gonna make me blush."

"So what if I am? Say, you know what? I'm not done here."

She jabbed a slender finger at his chest, privately delighted with the thought of putting the pink on his cheeks that he so often brought upon hers (inadvertently, for the most part).

"You've got a good heart, Joe," she declared. "That's important—I'd even say there's nothing more important in a man than a good heart."

Toye tilted his head to the side and as Perry watched the sunlight gleam off his freshly-shaved chin, she knew somewhere deep inside that she and Joe Toye would be in it for the long haul.

"A man."

Yanked back down from the sunshine, her heart skipped with a far more face-value secret.

"Yeah. A man."

"Not a soldier?"

She shrugged, using the motion to subtly roll the tension out of her shoulders.

"Sure, that too," she supposed, tugging at her hair. "But a person, more like. Having a good heart—now that'll get you far in life. That'll get you loved."

Toye's smile had turned a little peculiar, and Perry wasn't sure if she should like it or not (she did, either way).

"Sounds like you know somebody like that."

"I do."

"Let me guess..." He eyed her for long enough that she started to squirm. "Your brother?"

"Yes, but you're missin' the point." She poked his arm with a loose fist. "You. I know you."

The laugh that poured out of him then made her feel some kind of way she wouldn't be able to identify for several months after. Standing there with a box of mortar supplies between them—When had they crossed the loading dock?—he flashed her a broad smile and reached to push at her shoulder, friendly, relieved.

"Aww," he teased, "are you sayin' you love me?"

Perry punched his arm right back. "Victor was right about you being a softie," she chortled, but they both knew her face was quickly going the color of the dried astilbe flowers scattered on the floor just inside the loading dock door.

Toye gave her that peculiar smile again as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of her, not yet. She didn't mind, sharing the predicament on both counts—not only what to make of him, but what to make of herself in this contrived new world of hers. Instead of opening her mouth and spoiling the lightness in the air between them, Perry crouched and took up one side of the box. Toye mirrored her at once, and they rose in unison. Together, they brought the last box over to the proper side of the dock, and neither of them said a single word about how easily one of them could have carried it alone.

Not long thereafter, a busy day found them arranged with the rest of Easy Company in a spacious barn, munching on their lunches and laughing at Smokey Gordon's humorous rhymes. As his poem went on, Perry's pals became more confused, but Perry was content to listen to Victor try and give them context for the events put to prose. When Victor laughed, so did Perry. When Edward Heffron and Bill Guarnere met for the first time, nobody—least of all Perry and Victor—could breathe until they shook hands. And finally, when Sergeant Lipton got up and announced they'd be moving out to Membury at 07:00 hours that night, Perry looked to Victor for guidance and quickly adopted his look of thinly-veiled disappointment, even if she wasn't quite sure what to make of the news. She got up with the rest of the replacements and started to gather her belongings and lunch tray but paused when she caught sight of Joe Toye tilting his ear toward Victor's mouth.

Isn't he just something else? she thought, then balked at her own wistfulness and quickly went back to her things. Alas, she was unable to keep her curiosity at bay and risked a second glance. Victor gave a nod at whatever Toye had just said, and as he departed, Toye looked over at Perry. She quickly dropped her head, pink-cheeked and sorry at having been caught staring, even though she couldn't have possibly heard a thing over the noise. She skirted the sizeable crowd on her way outside, adjusting the straps over her shoulders as she walked, but didn't make it far onto the gravel before she was hailed.

"Perry—!"

She'd already turned by the first syllable, seeking the voice more so than its call, and slowed to let Joe Toye catch up to her. He gave her a tight smile and she knew he, like everyone else, had Sergeant Lipton's jarring news fresh on his mind. They'd be moving out to Membury before sunset. That barely gave them enough time for anything at all—maybe a quick shower, maybe the chance to pack their things all neat-like, but not both. Silent but not wanting for something to say, Perry and Toye strode side by side, thinking of what to do in the little window they had left.

"How're your buddies?"

"Hmm?"

It was such a simple question (and not at all what she'd been expecting) that it caught Perry noticeably off-guard. Toye's brow caught in a frown and his companion shrugged, supposing she might as well tell him the truth since she'd accidentally opened that can of worms.

"They're alright, so'm I. Things are fine enough."

"But?"

"But," she confessed, "some of the guys are still pretty antsy around the Normandy veterans."

"Hmm."

"They feel like- like outsiders." Perry shrugged. "Hell, I bet they wouldn't mind so much if... Well. Nevermind."

"Hey."

Toye's gaze narrowed and Perry knew she'd had to fess up.

"No 'nevermind'. What's up?"

"It wouldn't be a problem," she completed, "if a few of those vets were nicer to 'em."

Toye's gaze hardened. "To you, too?"

Perry shrugged a second time and her friend bumped his shoulder against hers.

"Two shrugs means you're not tellin' me something."

"Well, you know we get the cold shoulder more often than not. Oh, you know you've seen it, don't act like it's a surprise. But that's just 'whatever' compared to the shit we get from some o' the others."

"You gonna name names or am I gonna have to do some asking around?"

Perry flushed at the thought of tall, broad-shouldered, brass-knuckle-toting Joe Toye interrogating the men for who had messed with the replacements. It gave her a bit of a thrill, to think of him defending her like that—like a real friend would. Or maybe even...

She cleared her throat and refocused on the matter at hand.

"There's only a few like that, who go outta their way to push us around."

"Go on."

She hesitated but gave in at his look.

"It's mostly Roy Cobb and his crowd," she admitted with a sigh. "He hates us. Can't figure out why, though, 'less it's got something to do with something we did without knowing we did it wrong."

"You didn't," Toye reassured, holding the cabin door for Perry to come through after him. "Cobb's been sour with everybody and everything since day one."

"Well, there you go."

"Hmph."

"It's normal, you just said so yourself."

"Shouldn't be."

"Oh, so what? What's the point, Joe?"

He shifted on his feet, slipping his hands into his pockets. Perry subconsciously copied the gesture but quickly resituated her hands on the straps of her pack when she realized what she'd done. Toye scanned the barracks—and finding Roy Cobb suitably absent—turned back to Perry with a smile painted on his handsome mouth.

"How about this," he decided. "As soon as we get settled in at Membury, we're gonna go shoot the shit for a few hours. Maybe it's just you and me, maybe your buddies'll come with."

"Really? All of us?"

"Yeah, really. What, you think I'm foolin'?"

Grinning, he slung his arm around her shoulder and tousled her hair, evidently pleased when he made her laugh.

"'Bout time somebody showed you kids how to drink."

"Psh," she scoffed, pushing him off her almost reluctantly. "I can hold my liquor just as well as you can, sirrah." A beat. "On second thought..."

As a child, she'd thought it corny when a friend's parent (the happily married kind that was alien to her own household) would say they'd never tire of hearing their partner's laughter. Some kinds of laughter were nice, sure, but several more were just too shrill, too braying, or even too plain. Then Perry met Joe Toye and found out there was a kind of laugh that recharged her soul, and it was his and his alone. It was almost embarrassing how much she craved it, that laugh of his. So she pretended not to hear at all and told him he'd better get to packing, fidgeting with the buckles at the bottom of those pack straps. Though his smile flickered, he agreed, and they parted ways for the day.

Arriving at the barracks, Perry walked into silence. The anxious energy in the room emanated more strongly from some than from others, but things were not well with any man. Perry weaved between her buddies from the replacement crew and gathered up her belongings, but the quiet quickly ate away at her resolve. When she spoke up, suggesting a card game to pass the time until the transports arrived, she received several strange looks but no refusals. Miller was the first to come over, bringing the deck of cards his mother had sent him into the army with. Garcia and Heffron were close behind, and after hovering over their shoulders for a bit, Hashey joined them, too. Then some of the Toccoa men gravitated over—Donald Hoobler and Shifty Powers, to name a few—and the atmosphere started to lighten up. By the time 07:00 hours rolled around, most of the men from Perry's cabin were singing of summer or laughing as they tried to decide who'd won the last chaotic round of Slapjack, readying to board the transports.

Membury wasn't much different from Aldbourne, just a bit further southwest. By virtue of road insufficiency, the 101st was required to drive up north (following the coast of the Bristol Channel) in order to go south, but driving into the sunset made most men forget the peculiar route. The moon had gone up by the time they pulled up to the new base and split up into their platoons to determine their tent assignments. Sergeant Randleman shepherded his rookies (Perry included) over to their spot, and even Miller, the shortest of the bunch, had to duck to get into the low-roofed tent. The sergeant bid them goodnight and the squadron settled in for the evening.

The next two days were full of rain, the second worse than the first, and by the time mid-afternoon rolled around, all evening training had been canceled. Delighted at the chance for one last night on the town before the upcoming jump, every healthy man of Easy Company scrambled to adorn himself in his Class A's and his cap, preparing to woo the ladies or win a darts game for the books. Alas, there were several who would not be able to make it out that night, for the rain had taken several healthy men and given them dizzying colds. Perry was not one of this number, but when she supposed to Miller that she'd stay in tonight, he grimaced and told her to rest up. The others joined Miller in guessing she felt under the weather, and she didn't bother to correct them before they left without her.

It was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment thing, showing up to Joseph Toye's cabin with an anxiously-tapping foot and a cap a little crooked on her head, but then he poked his head out and told her he'd be just a minute more and she knew he'd been expecting her, after all. He bade farewell to some of his buddies and snatched up her cap as he came down the steps just so he could tousle her hair. She grabbed it back and put it on even more crookedly than before, but he just laughed and fixed it for her.

"Just us?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder as if Heffron or Garcia was about to emerge from the woodworks of Battalion CP.

"Just us."

He hummed and hooked his thumbs around his belt loops, and Perry was pleased to think he wasn't disappointed at all. A part of her wanted him to say he was glad it was just the two of them, but he didn't, and she'd never in a million years imply that she wanted to hear it.

Toye led the way through the town as if he'd been there a dozen times before. Perry carried the umbrella for a little while, but Toye took it when he saw her arm starting to shake from how high she needed to hold it to cover his head. He leaned the umbrella's shaft against his shoulder and kept on strolling; if he noticed Perry inching a little closer to keep dry, he graciously made no mention. They made it to the pub in short order and stamped the mud off their boots, laughing at the weather. It was a narrow building, somewhat out of the way but immediately worth the detour. One glance about the place showed just how cozy and congenial it was, with the bartender waving merrily at them and the fire crackling on the far wall, somehow managing to chase away the stifling humidity without turning the open room into an oven. It was still early, so Perry and Toye nibbled on peanuts, sipped at their beers, and watched the sun periodically break through the stormy clouds as it set.

"Hey, shh, shh," Toye said into a bout of silence, "listen to that."

Perry glanced around, unsure what he meant for her to focus on. He started to hum along to the music coming out of the radio behind the bar and she smiled at the flirtatious crooning of Billie Holiday.

"Last time I heard this song was back in France," he said, closing his eyes. "We were sitting around in Carentan, waiting for somebody to send us on patrol or something..."

He trailed off, taken by the song, and resumed humming. Perry loosed the leash on her heart and watched him unabashedly as long as he kept his eyes shut, which was nearly the entire song. Wistful, she leaned her chin on her hand, sipped at her beer, and watched his face crease with his smile.

"If I ever had a- a girl of my own," she decided as she admired Joe Toye, "I'd call her 'Lovely Summer'."

Joe's eyes fluttered open as he chuckled, the goodness of his face softened by the lamplight of the bar. The piano and trumpets following Billie Holiday seemed to time their interlude solely to emphasize the pleasantness of Joe's laugh. Perry drummed her fingers on the table and glanced aside, and he nudged his knee against hers under the bar to get her to look back.

"You mean if you were a girl," he said over the last few seconds of the song, "you'd want your fella to call you Lovely Summer."

Perry, pretending she couldn't feel just how pink her cheeks had gotten, giggled like a fool and told him it was true.

They left not long after, heading further into town toward the more populated pubs and dance halls. The sky had cleared up for a time and Joe swung the umbrella at his side like a cane as he walked. He said he'd promised 'Babe' Heffron a darts game tonight, and if he was anything to be proud of, he was a man of his word. Perry started to tell him there was plenty more about himself to be proud about but lost her nerve when he pointed out a few geese flying overhead a bit too loudly and drowned out her admiration. Instead, she considered what his plans were to be and gave a bit of a pause in the middle of the road.

"What?"

"'Babe' Heffron?"

"Yeah." Joe chuckled, relaxing now that he had been removed from the subject of conversation. "Bill didn't tell you?"

"Guarnere barely talks to me. Only when Red's around."

Joe huffed. "Remind me to box his ears next time I see 'im."

"Oh, no," Perry laughed. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Wouldn't be fair," she said, smirking just a little. "You and your brass knuckles would put his hearing outta commission, and then he'd have no sense of how loud he talks most o' the time and just start yelling everything."

As they turned the corner, Joe laughed more than the joke deserved. Reassured, Perry was about to join in before she heard the laughter and chatter from the populated pub spilling out into the street. She could hear the voices of Guarnere and Johnny Martin and even Victor here and there if she listened hard enough. Joe didn't even flinch, whereas Perry shied back.

"Well." She held her cap in her hands and tugged at it as if that might even out the creases and bumps of a shoddy ironing job. "I'll leave you to it."

Joe gave pause and pivoted on his heels. As he turned to face her, a frown shadowing his handsome eyes, she pinched a fraying thread between her fingers and tried at a smile.

"You're not coming in?"

He bit his bottom lip as he waited for an answer and Perry came close to forgetting how to speak at all.

"I'm a bit tired, actually," she bluffed, more than sheepish enough to seem earnest. "I think I'm gonna head back and try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow, y'know."

"Yeah. Big day."

He eyed her up and down and she bent her arms behind her back to hide the goosebumps rising across her skin.

"You feeling alright?"

"Just fine," she reassured. "Just tired."

"Alright," he assented, and he raised his hand in a farewell wave before second-guessing himself and offering it for her to shake instead.

"'Night, Joe. Thanks for the company."

"Anytime," he said, meaning every syllable and entirely unaware of how he'd just made her heart prance in her chest. And then, just as Perry started to turn back, he called something after her that made her trip on a pebble and turn as red as the filling of a cherry pie:

"Sweet dreams, Lovely Summer."

When she turned back, forcing a laugh, he was grinning, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that warned her he'd steal her heart whether or not he meant to. She could already tell that her reaction had sealed her fate. This wouldn't be the last she'd hear of Lovely Summer—

Nor would it be the last she'd dream of kissing that smirk right off his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Pt II here. Read Pt III here.

#perrine blomme/perry bloom #perry gets her own fic perry gets her own fic #band of brothers #joseph toye #joe toye x oc #joe toye #in defense of chicanery #post-fic update #pov rewrite #band of brothers oc #band of brothers ficlet #band of brothers oc ficlet #band of brothers fanfiction #hbo war show #hbo war show oc #hbo war show oc ficlet #hbo war show ficlet #hbo war show fanfiction #oc ficlet #oc fanfiction #follow me my dear and know that only I will follow you

[awakenatmidnights]

where are the fanfictions about the study group giving one ounce of a damn about Britta and Britta's trauma? where are the fanfictions where they all apologise to her in some way, shape or form for all the years spent calling her the worst, when she really was just as flawed and bare and human as the rest of them? where are the fanfictions where at least one of them realizes how she relishes in weed and smoking more and more throughout the seasons and actually DO something about it? why is there so little of this kind of fics and who do i have to beg to change this?

#who do i have to beg to make this come true #[additionally and for my own selfish reasons where are the fics exploring her queerness??? WHERE????] #dan harmon when i catch you #if she doesn't get her justice in the movie i'm suing you and everyone in the writing room #my girl deserves so much better #britta perry #community tv #study group #troy barnes #abed nadir #jeff winger #shirley bennett #annie edison

[girlreblogger]

the annoyance with blk y/n and the stories she’s in is hilarious. her characteristics might be the problem one day or her side characters the next. it legit feels like we may never get to a balanced solution on what to do with our own representation since the wrong ppl always talk about it and create it. we have mean and shallow ppl who take over the conversation, ppl who really self hate but try and cover it up with “i just don’t want her to be a stereotype” and then the ones who probably love and support tyler perry movies.

the bottom line is the ppl who do write those niggafying, toxic (it’s a buzzword but that’s what they are) or smutty fics (not talking abt the actual good ones with a blk reader though 🧎🏽‍♀️) can do wtv they want and owe you nothing. that’s why they get so frustrated. i don’t think all the times those should be crucified for what they write when other groups of ppl (or our own) write all kinds of other crazy shit.

and.. i know a lot of ppl who don’t want to say it but y’all keep bringing up the smut and niggafying as the main problem, but i think it’s some of the ppl writing it and their underlings. it’s just no one wants to say anything.

an excerpt from a draft of mine

“a lot of ppl on here be weirdos or mean asl. so when someone block you don’t be like “oh what i did” “they that mad cause of my (internet—fictional—digital on screen) presence”

like nobody got time to go to your acc and say “i don’t like you” who cares. oddly some miserable ppl do actually but still. the lack of awareness is ridiculous. that’s why ppl don’t f with y’all.”

i was talking abt all of tumblr and every other app but it applies here.

from what i see on here, some are just straight up weird, cliquey, and chiesty (if that’s how you spell it) and that’s why ppl be so mad abt those types of books 💀. we also have to acknowledge the amount of overwhelming & honestly damaging blk yn fics (not to be confused with ppls screwed ideas of stereotypical) there are. i understand why ppl write them for personal reasons but when it comes to our own reflections of ourselves as blk women it’s almost hurtful to read some of the things people put “her” through. i mean even her with a white man that use aave and has cornrows is hurtful.. 😔 (i’m trolling now 💀) naw but fr. i personally don’t like reading blk women just being written for smut or going through crazy situations or kinda like.. i don’t wanna say unfulfilling but like.. idk i can’t think of the word. (edit: ppl write blk yn to be in unfulfilling situations) but girl i can watch a tyler perry movie for all that.

again. ppl write these stories for there own personal reasons, relate to them and enjoy them for those reasons as well. that’s why depending! on what it is i don’t think blk writers should be bombarded with hate like that. also ion think smut should be banned like y’all go to far can we just slow down on it … there are some nice ones out there i promise 🧎🏽‍♀️

but in all seriousness there are many other reasons why i feel toxic and smutty fics are popular for blk yn but i don’t think anyone cares to hear that and the conversion will prolly go back to nigga eren somehow which is crazy cause y’all be arguing over a fictional white man.

oh! 😒 i almost forgot 😒 the ppl who are against “ghetto” y/n to try and advocate for more fluffy or like.. normal (healing) stories and from what i see the ppl who are the most up in arms about it in my personal opinion seem to dislike certain parts of blkness that i appreciate personally and so i just straight up disregard their opinions. y/n doesn’t have to “act” (😒) blk but i see ppl get mad about her protecting her hair….. with a bonnet….

sigh, anyway but yeah we need more soft and sweet fics or just like calming ones? but someone gon have to write it! i don’t like this app or my writing all too much so i gave up a while ago.

just like many other blk writers….

gaspp! we should also do like a fluff challenge or sumn where writers do like fluff … march? girl idk so maybe that will trend and all the ppl who spend time arguing and going back and forth with ppl who write stories they don’t like can like idk look for other writers who write soft, normal, fun stories and reblog them or make a list of them. or maybe like possibly write their own stories too????

everyone says the smut fics gets the most likes and they do. that’s why you keep seeing them. so maybe support or refreakingblog the fics that are comforting to you so others can be as well.

i actually made this page to repost softer fics because i was tired of blocking certain tags so i can avoid heavy smut and subtly abuse fics. also pls leave the ppl who niggafy anime characters alone they will not be stopped. i mean we still have ppl who have been calling chris evans jamal since 2020.. calling him that to this date. married and all.

sigh… 2 more days until blk history month ends. maybe next year we can find a balance between “dramatic” and smutty fics and soft and slice of life ones for blk y/n next year. remember this is tumblr too and the ppl writing aren’t even getting paid for this but it’s for the ppl yk.

ppl who are respectful and reblog tho.

muah

#anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #x black fem reader #black reader #x black reader fluff #x black reader #black fanfiction #x black plus size reader #x fem black reader #gojo x black reader #jjk x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #x black oc #connie x black reader #x black y/n #eren x black reader fluff #eren x black reader #i’m so dramatic #rant #rant post #complaining #ramblings #im just a girl #i’m also just being very sarcastic and condescending because i’m so tired of the blk yn bull crap. lemme just read. #i said what i said

[sincerelyneo]

birthday | h.rj

“so cover your eyes, i have a surprise”

💿now playing: birthday by katy perry

❯ summary: It’s your boyfriend’s first birthday with you. Too bad he’s too stubborn to tell you what he wants, leaving you to take matters into your own hands. Still, you’re certain the little blue set you have at the back of your closet will be just the perfect present for him.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff.

❯ words: 5.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, lingerie, birthday sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight begging, praising, heavy petting, reader uses she/her pronouns, renjun calls reader his girl, renjun is very smitten, reader dresses up for renjun’s birthday.

a/n: i’m in the process of going through my old google docs to find my old fics and repost them.

“Could you please stop being so stubborn?!”

It’s the twelfth time this week you’ve asked Renjun what he wanted for his birthday. You’ve asked the boy so much you swear you’ve had this argument in every part of your house: the living room, the bedroom, the dining room, and even the bathroom. But today, your boyfriend is adamant he doesn’t want anything in the kitchen. 

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” you huff, folding your arms across your chest and pressing your weight against the island. “You had no problem telling Chenle and Mark what you wanted, why are you giving me a hard time?” 

Renjun chuckles to himself as he starts placing last night’s leftover pizza in the microwave. 

You’re right — he knows you’re right — and he thinks about how willing he was to tell Mark about the new expensive shoes he had seen and needed to have. 

“This isn’t funny!” You groan. 

“Baby, I’ve told you a thousand times, you don’t need to get me anything,” he finishes twiddling the dial before turning around and pressing his arms against the counter behind him. 

You notice the way the arm muscles, that his short-sleeved t-shirt was exposing, tense and the way his veins become more prominent. He always looks so hot in the morning, hair dishevelled and eyes droopy from staying up all night just to fuck you. And you swear, if you weren’t so goddamn mad at him right now you’d fall to your knees instantly and fumble with his pyjama bottoms. 

“But I just want to treat you, Jun,” you whine, bouncing a little in distress. Renjun sucks a breath between his teeth as his eyes flick to your boobs.

He pushes himself off the counter and pulls you into a big bear hug, he was good at giving those, and the two of you always knew the minute he engulfs you in them you become putty in his hands. 

“You spoil me enough already by being my girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your hair and you almost melt — but then you remember, this is the twelfth time he’s played this tactic to avoid this conversation —  and you were sure as hell not letting him whither out of it once again. 

You untangle his arms from your sides and watch him smirk as they fall. This is usually the part where you kiss his nose and tell him to stop being so cute, but not today — you’re pissed. 

“I’m not falling for it this time, Huang,” you shove your hands on your hips, “so quit playing around and just tell me what you want.”

He huffs, “Baby, do we have to do this now, it’s early.”

“Yes, we’re doing this now! You’re not getting any younger!”

He rolls his eyes. He just doesn’t get it. Why can’t you understand that he doesn’t want you to spend your money on him? He didn’t need you to pamper him with expensive gifts just to know that you love him. He already knows that — you make it very clear to him when you're screaming his name. He finds it ironic actually, that you’re the one calling him stubborn yet you won’t give up on this. And that’s when he gets his idea. 

“I know what I want-”. Your eyes light up with joy the minute he says it. “-I want you to stop asking me what I want. Now that would be the best present to date,” and now they’re dimming. 

“You’re impossible, you know that?!”

“It’s all a part of my charm,” he winks. 

The microwave beeps and Renjun lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls out the hot plate. He takes a bite, mouth full and says, 

“I know you’re not gonna drop this, so we’ll finish this after my pizza.” 

Then he saunters past you and into the living room.   

You in fact did not finish that conversation after Renjun’s pizza. You did try, but your boyfriend was great at nuzzling into your neck and gripping your thighs tight enough to distract you. 

So now, you’re standing here, in your kitchen, on his birthday, trying to make him breakfast as a last minute surprise. It was a small but possible gesture considering he had not given you anything to work with. 

Renjun stumbles out of the kitchen half asleep, hair all over the place with his sweatpants hanging off his hips. He rubs his eyes, wincing at the shriek of the smoke alarm that had woken him up. 

The sight he found in front of him was you, standing on top of the kitchen counter, frantically waving a dish towel at the smoke alarm to get it to stop. You’re covered in flour from trying to make pancakes from scratch, smoke steaming from the frying pan.

When the screeching does stop, you blow out a heavy frustrated sigh dropping your hands to your side noticing Renjun. He’s standing there, leaning against the door frame with a wide grin plastered on his face; looking from you to the kitchen that looks like a bomb exploded in it. 

"What's all this?" he asks, eyes lit up to match the amused look on his face.

You give him a sheepish smile. Gesturing to the plate of black pancakes on the bench across from him.

"Uhm... Happy Birthday?"

“Ah, so you finally decided on a birthday present.” 

“Yeah, but I think I’ve ruined whatever it was supposed to be.” 

The two of you look down at the ruined breakfast. You’re embarrassed but he’s so sweet about it, and still offers to eat the pancakes. You tell him not to, unless he wanted this birthday to be his last.

He comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around and pressing into you so you have to land your hands on the island counter in front. He nestles in against your ear. 

“Thanks for trying though.” 

You look up at him over your shoulder, “Don’t underestimate me, Huang. There’s more.” 

“More?” His eyebrow quirks.

You nod and grab his hand to lead him into the living room. He follows suit, eventually flopping down on the leather sofa. 

“You didn’t have to do all this, Y/N.” 

“Shhh,” you dismiss him, "just no peeking, okay?” 

"I would never.” 

Renjun can't see, he's sitting there with his hands pressed against his face. 

You’re honestly starting to regret this whole thing. This wasn’t even your idea but it was Haechan’s suggestion to surprise your boyfriend with lingerie. Well, not exactly lingerie, he just told you to do ‘something sexy for him,’ and this was what you landed on.

Calling Haechan was a last resort, you were in a moment of crisis and panic about only having a week left to whip up your boyfriend a present. You were hoping your boyfriend may have mentioned something to his friends — but he hadn’t — so alas here you are. 

You’re saving this for last though. For now, you have his actual wrapped present for him to open, and you’re just praying he likes it. It’s hard to buy presents for a man who has almost everything. 

You set the wrapped present on the coffee table in front of him, and move to sit next to him, adjusting the black silk robe you put on this morning to hide his real surprise underneath. 

"Okay, you can look,” you finally tell him, watching his hands drop faster than you can blink but his eyes immediately get caught by the black smooth material riding up your skin. He starts raking his gaze over your thighs before bringing it to your face.

The black pupils in his eyes expand inside the brown, a slow pleased form of excitement tugging his mouth up at the corner to flash his teeth.

You’re anxious to see what he thinks of his gift, you just want him to unwrap it already so you can see his reaction. 

"Open your present," you whine at him taking too long. 

But Renjun’s more impatient than you. His fingers starting to toy with the drawstring of the robe around your waist, trying to tug at the knot there with a pout.

"But I want this one.” 

You push his eager hands away and he huffs, shoulders slumping as his gaze goes to the table with his bottom lip pushed out. 

"I’m sure you do," you tease, reaching over to pick up his present wrapped in patterned blue paper. 

"It’s sort of a silly present, but I thought you might like it,”  you explain, watching him trace his fingers over the wrapping paper with an amused smile. 

"I kinda don't wanna open it... it's wrapped so pretty.” 

"Please open it — the suspense is killing me.” 

His frantic skilled fingers discard the paper next to him as he tore it away. He then picks up the small leather book in his lap that's now exposed.  A bright, albeit kind of confused laugh bursts from him as he looks. 

“Flick through it,” you instruct, and he does. 

You bite your lip, watching him inspect it. It’s a scrapbook you managed to put together last minute. “Some of the pages are blank, figured we could fill it out together as we do more things.” 

"I love it" he butts in, looking at you with a grin as he keeps flicking through it.

He leans over to kiss you, but you press your finger against his lips to halt him, watching his brows twitch together as his lips pucker against your finger, "We went over this at Christmas, open your presents first or we'll be here all night — you can have a kiss once you're done."

In response to your rules, he slams the scrapbook closed, dropping it on the table. Then you’re being grabbed and yanked towards him so fast that you fumble into his lap. His hand grabs your thigh to hoist it up over him, so your knees sit on either side of his hips.

Everything is so fast; you barely have time to register it. His large hands are grasping at your jaw, while his fingers splay against your cheek until he's pushing his mouth against yours with a force that knocks oxygen clean out of you.

He's sucking in quick broken breaths through his nose, putting everything into the kiss that's harsh and tender all at once. His hands slip from your jaw into your hair, pulling you closer to him so your hands rest against his chest and you fist at the fabric. 

He tears his mouth away for the briefest moment. You’re staring at each other with eyes red and glossy. 

“So I take it you liked it?” you ask with a bite of your lip. 

He shakes his head while smiling before tugging you forward again. His tongue delving back past your lips, “Of course I fucking like it.” 

His hands drop from your hair to grope over your waist and hips to hold you against him. You haven’t even gotten to your last present for him yet and he’s already crippling with desire. 

Renjun keeps his mouth hovering close to yours,

"Like? No like isn’t the right word — it's not good enough," he manages between kisses, "I love it, I love you.”

"It’s not that amazing," you hush him as he paws at your back and tries to connect your mouths again. 

“Yes, it is, because you made it."

You hate (love) the way he’s always so sweet and reassuring. You know he does it for your reaction, to tease you and make your cheeks turn red. So, you try to escape him before he gets the chance to make a snarky remark about the blush on your cheeks. 

But attempting to lift yourself off of him causes him to immediately protest, digging his fingers into your skin through the silk as he tries to move his face to your neck to attack there instead.

You push at his chest, and he whines a pathetic sound that has your skin tingling, "Don't tease me baby please, don't be mean. It’s my birthday.”

"I'm not trying to tease you,” you shake your head, pulling back and shuffling off of him, but he won’t let you.

After a long battle, you mange to unclamp his stubborn hands while he stares at you with desperate puzzled eyes.

"Then stop moving and come here,” he tries to reach for you to pull you back down but you step away, moving further from the couch. 

His gaze darts from your feet to your face, wetting his lips while watching you intensely. You see him take his bottom lip between his teeth when you move your hands to the knot at the front of your robe and slowly start to slip it undone. 

His eyes flash wider and his fingers grip tighter around his knees where he's sat with his legs spread wide. You can feel nerves buzzing in your body, taking a coaxing breath as you lock your eyes with his.

"You ready to open your last present?"

The anticipation in the air is palpable, it's enough to have your fingers trembling with the way Renjun’s suspenseful gaze keeps locking on you. But the thing that’s making your heart surge the most is the emotion behind his eyes. 

You never do things like this. At least, you haven’t with Renjun. And even though he tells you every day that you’re so beautiful and so perfect, you can’t help but feel your nerves tighten. 

"You gonna show me what's under there?” Renjun encourages in a slow voice, full of rasp. You watch his chest jump with a breath when you grip the edges of the robe to pull it open.

He notices you hesitate, and his brows twitch together as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Don't be nervous, ever. Not with me."

You compose yourself with his encouragement. But you still hold your breath as you let the robe start to slip from your shoulders, the silky fabric inching down as you open it until it hits the floor. Your heart hammers with every bit of skin being revealed as you stand there in a set of blue lingerie. 

It's like time stops. Renjun hasn't so much as taken a breath, eyes frozen on you, darting everywhere at once.

You start to tense up, but then he lets out a breath. He clears his throat a few times and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out; he just sits there with his mouth ajar. You glance up at him, feeling your heart accelerate and blood rush to your cheeks. On the other hand, it looks like Renjun’s brain has completely short-circuited.

Harnessing a surge of confidence from his reaction, you take a few steps to close the gap between the two of you. His eyes stay transfixed as they trace over every inch of blue decorating your body. You’re standing between his spread legs, and he falls back against the backrest of the couch with a slight thud.

"Do you like it?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet. 

"I - I, uh..." He swallows, then blinks once, twice, and then closes his eyes shaking his head like he can't concentrate, "Uh - fuck, I..."

"Everything okay, Jun?" You suppress a smile and watch as he takes a deep breath when his eyes drift open, and he smooths his hair away from his forehead.

"No, I'm not - what the fuck are you trying to do to me...baby," he stumbles over his words, taking you in with another once over like he can't believe it. Then he brings his hands up to hover near your hips. "So, this is what you finally came up with?"

You chew on your lip, face feeling hot from how flattered you feel over his reaction. You’re not sure what you expected, but you didn't expect him to be this well... stunned.

"I wanted to give you the best birthday,” you murmur, “so yeah, I bought it for you."

He breathes like the oxygen was kicked out of him, reaching for your hands and pulling you towards him until you’re perching a knee on either side of his hips and resting your limbs on his shoulders.

His hands hover near your hips again and trace down over your thighs, but he doesn't touch them — not yet anyway. 

"I don't even think I deserve to touch you in this."

"Don’t say that. Haechan thought this would be a good idea," you tell him, feeling his hands finally settle on your thighs and watching his eyes flash wider as his jaw clenches.

Yep. That was the total wrong thing to say to him right now.

You wait for Renjun to blow a blood vessel in his forehead, but instead, his eyes go down to your cleavage under the blue mesh of your bra and he takes in a slow breath.

"This is what she talks to my friends about?" he mutters to himself, and you try so hard not to crack a smile.

His gaze drifts up to yours again, and he swallows; moving his hands up your thighs to feel his palms over the straps and garters enriching your skin before his jaw softens. 

"Well... look at it this way" you coax him, keeping your tone gentle whilst you smooth your hands over his shoulders to rest against his neck, "You're the only one that gets to take this off of me.” 

Your words have your boyfriend lifting his brows, and sucking his lower lip under his teeth and that old bothered look melts away to a much more pleased one, "Just me?"

"Only you," you nod, feeling his fingers press harder into the skin of your hips when he rests his hands there.

"Forever?"

“Always.”

He wets his lips, leaning in more so your noses nearly touch and his rough voice whispers into the air between you, "Can I tell you a secret?"

You can only manage a nod, chest tight from how the atmosphere feels like it's strangling you. There is such an intense feeling, because he's looking at you with hungry eyes that also look flooded with heart crippling love.

His hands move from your hips to trace his fingertips up your back, “You’re the first girl who’s ever done something like this for me.” 

He trails off to brush his nose against yours, before nudging it against your cheek and keeping his lips just out of reach. You feel your eyes start to burn, that lump lodging in your throat as you exhale a shaky breath. 

"I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N. You just wouldn’t believe it," his fingers ghost back down your back, and he keeps his stare on yours.

"Please shut up and kiss me," you burst your words out in a single breath, gripping the sides of his neck to tug him towards you and connect with his lips. 

It's like a rupture of pressure as soon as your mouths touch, and Renjun sucks in a sharp gasp through his nose; attacking your lips with his in a kiss that's desperate and frantic.

His hands go straight to your now bare ass, that's only covered by two measly straps of the lingerie, and grips it. He starts hoisting you up, your arms clinging around his shoulders as tight as your thighs wrap around his hips. He blindly makes his way towards your bedroom, trying his hardest not to trip over his own feet or walk into something with you around him. 

Both of your lungs are trying to suck in the air but become nothing but a ball of gasps and pants mixed with shaky breaths and trembling limbs. 

He manages to make it into your dim bedroom when he urges your thighs down until your feet hit the ground and he's the one that drops down to sit on the edge of the bed. You stand in front of him, weak at the knees and cloudy in the brain with blood rushing through your body like fire.

Renjun stares up at you, his cheeks tinted with the flush that's crept down his neck to match the cherry colour of his raw lips. You move towards him. It’s like you have a magnet in your chest tugging at you with all its force to get you closer to him.

"Turn for me. I wanna get a proper look at you — see how lucky I am,” he rasps out of breath, and the deep gravelly sound leaving him makes your spine shiver.

His hands on your hips urge you to spin around. You’re not sure how your legs are able to withstand it considering how jelly-like they feel. 

"I’m the luckiest man alive...God fuckin help me,” he whispers to himself and you can’t help but allow your whole body to erupt in goosebumps when his eyes burn into every part of your skin. 

He’s lust drunk on you. 

Renjun’s hands come up, going to the blue material hiding your chest from him. He begins letting his fingers follow the edges of it, teasing his digits over your perked nipples. He continues going down and repeating his brushing over the garter belt and panties, taking in each detail like he never wants to forget it. 

"I kinda don't wanna open it... you're wrapped so pretty," he murmurs, looking up to catch your eyes and mimicking his earlier words.

Your hands are shaking from the tension in the air. His knuckles graze against the front of your underwear, making your breath hitch in your throat. He drags his tongue across his lower lip, sliding his palms down the front of your thighs. 

“I don’t think I have enough words to thank you for today. But I think I can show you.” 

You can't take this anymore, and before you can think twice you rush forward, leaning down to grasp his face and clamber on top of him. You kiss him as hard as you can, the force making him fall backwards as his shoulders hit the mattress with a bounce. 

He only gives you a few seconds before he's flipping you. Climbing over you and ushering you further up the bed. When his lips detach from yours, Renjun pushes himself up onto his knees to look down at you perched between his legs.

His chest is heaving, hair all over the place with random strands dangling in front of his forehead. He moves his hands to throw off his t-shirt. You get drunk off the sight of him when he focuses on getting his pyjama bottoms off. 

He drops forward as soon as his legs are free, his large hands dipping into the bed next to your waist with your legs bent on either side of his shoulders. He turns his head to leave a trail of heated wet open kisses up your skin that makes your centre throb.

Every action feels heightened, so intense but gentle. His movements are heated but careful like he's trying to fuck your heart but love your body at the same time.

Your hands move to his hair, stroking through it as he moves his mouth to your other thigh, paying it the same attention. You gasp when he takes the strap from your garter between his teeth to let it snap back against your skin.

"Jun please..." you sigh in a wavering breath. 

"Okay baby" he hushes against your skin, moving his hands to grip the hem of your underwear sitting over the top of the garter, "Gonna be so good to you. Make you feel how I do."

You hold your breath when you feel him gently start to tug it down your hips. His eyes focus on his hands dragging the material down your thighs like he's savouring the moment. Then he’s sitting up on his knees again to lift your legs and remove your underwear completely.

He dangles the blue fabric on his fingertip, raising a cheeky brow at you, "Think I might keep these."

"Don't you dare,” you burst out laughing, swatting at his hand as he giggles to himself.

He drops the underwear next to you on the bed, moving his hands to slip under your back. You arch to help him while he feels around and uses his fingers to unclasp your bra. His gaze is admiring, watching it slip off your arms.

"Definitely keeping this too.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning to yourself. But that smile is quickly wiped away when his eyes lock on your face and one hand takes your thigh to push it against the bed and spread your legs further apart. He drags his fingers up your slit; tracing through the warmth and arousal that had already soaked into the fabric he'd since removed.

Your mouth falls open at the same time his brows pinch hard together, his jaw clenched as he lets his gaze momentarily flick down to his fingers exploring your cunt.

Your hips buck up when he focuses his fingertips against the sensitive nerves, making you feel like your clit has its own heartbeat as jolts of pleasure shoot through you. Renjun leans forward to rest his hand next to your head, dipping his mouth down to latch it around your nipple, nipping and sucking against it.

"Oh-, fuck,” you hiss curving your chest up as your hips start to squirm. He traces slow lazy patterns against your clit, "Renjun - please, don't tease me - just, fuck I need—"

Your words are cut short when he applies more pressure to your nerves, massaging leg-numbing patterns against you while his teeth give your nipple a gentle tug before he moves to the other one to pay it the same attention. You gasp at the cold air that hits the bud.

"Tell me how it feels," he mumbles against your flesh when he moves his mouth to drag his lips between your cleavage, "I wanna know how you feel right now, tell me."

Like your vagina is about to scream in agony if he doesn’t hurry up and fuck you.

"S-So good," you manage to pant out, squeezing your eyes closed as your hips rut against his fingers when he dips them down to slip through your dripping centre to tease at your hole. "It’s amazing b-but I'm going to explode if you keep teas-"

Renjun shakes his head, flicking his eyes up to stare at you under his lashes when he licks a wet stripe up between your breasts. 

“No, I wanna know how you feel-" his lips press against the skin over your heart, "-tell me how you feel about me."

You choke on a moan when he dips his fingers down inside your pussy at your silence, sinking his middle and ring finger deep as his hot forehead drops against your chest. 

"Tell me,” He groans, voice low dropping deeper as he relishes your gripping around his fingers, "please."

"I feel- it feels like - uh, god I feel —" you whimper when he curls his fingers, massaging inside of you at that pressure point that makes your stomach quiver. "I l-love y-you."

It comes out as rambling. You’re stuttering like a mindless lunatic — but the one thing you're sure of is that it’s the truth. 

Your barely coherent words make Renjun still his fingers, sucking in a heavy broken breath when he lifts his face to seal his mouth against yours. His hand grabs hold of your thigh to hook it around his hip as he shifts closer until you feel the weight of his warm length heavy against your pubic bone. 

"I fucking love you too," he pants out against your lips, his voice thick and strained, "So fucking much I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop."

You roll your hips up against him, threading your fingers into his hair, "I don’t want you to ever stop — I want you to fuck me, please fuck me."

The tight knot in your lower half feels like torture at this point as his fingers are still working slow. He hushes you when he sees the distraught look on your face and hears the muffled whines from you as his motions become very still.

"Shhhh," his hips lift back as his hand wraps around the base of his length. He teases it up and down your drenched folds, "I'm not gonna stop - I just - I don't wanna fuck you... it's not the right word. It's more than that. Need you to feel that it’s more than that.” 

He applies pressure with his tip against your pussy, holding his weight up on his elbow next to you so he can tilt his head up and watch your face. His heavy glazed eyes locked on yours with his brows hooded over them. 

"Please keep looking at me."

You fight to stop your eyes from fluttering shut, staying captivated by the way his pink lips part and the way they twitch to verbalise a silent moan when he inches forward a fraction to feel his tip slip past the threshold and into you.

Your brows are scrunched together in pleasure, fighting to keep your hips still as the moment feels paralysing. 

He pushes forward in a slow savouring motion. When he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. His teeth suck in his lower lip between them, while a low skin-tingling moan echoes from deep in his chest as he stays still.

"Wrap your legs around me - I wanna be closer."

You do as he asks, tightening your thighs around his hips and resting the heels of your feet against his own thighs. You feel him sink even deeper and you watch the veins in his neck strain at the feeling.

"Please move" you beg, barely able to get the whisper out. 

Renjun struggles to keep his breathing even as he watches your face, slowly drawing his hips back, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward in a motion to fill you again.

Your fingers tighten in his hair when your hips come up to meet his. He starts in a slow drawn-out rhythm, panting out a soft groan.

Your eyes threaten to drift closed again, the blissful feeling enveloping all of your limbs too much to stay conscious. Renjun ducks his face down, attaching his mouth to yours and you moan into the kiss which elicits a stomach-knotting whine from him.

Before you know what's going on, Renjun is rolling you, turning on his side with you facing him and taking hold of your leg to hook it over his hips. His other arm wraps under your waist and around your back. His hand reaches between you, grasping his length and placing it at your opening before he thrusts into you again making you cry out at the feeling from this angle.

He keeps you hugged close to him, connecting you with him in long deep strokes while his hand comes up to tangle in your hair and he presses his forehead against yours. 

"Stay with me" he pleads, "Keep looking at me. Look at how you make me feel."

You can only respond with a gasp that hitches in your throat when he buries himself into you as deep as he can, rolling himself against you as your nails dig into the skin of his back. 

His hand slips from your hair for a brief moment, to reach and grab for your hand which he guides down to the spot between your legs. You take the hint; letting your fingers find your throbbing clit and work towards unravelling the tightness in your abdomen.

"Oh- god, shit,” you whimper, shocked by the combination of all the sensations consuming your body. Your hips start to writhe at the feeling.

"That's it baby - you make me feel so fuckin good, I want you to feel it too," he pants, forehead slick with sweat while both your bodies feel like they're burning and his thrusts start to build with more purpose. He’s fucking into you at an erotic speed as if he's trying to spill out every feeling he has with his body.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, and your muscles start to contract and flutter around him. It only encourages him to slow down the rhythm to drag out the feeling to a point you don't know how to handle.

You can feel him being swallowed inside of you with each thrust as your fingers slip down to where you’re joined. You toy with your clit helping your body reach a point where it’s trembling over the edge. 

Renjun finally caves, moving his face to bury against your neck, when your walls contract around him and your hips roll with his. 

"Fuck, Y/N".

His breathing gets even more ragged as every muscle in his body becomes tense with his movements. He begs muffled words against your skin; tightening his arm around you like he somehow needs you closer.

"Tell me you love me again.” 

You manage to stutter out a breathless "I love you,” heaving out the air in your lungs as you work your fingers faster and Renjun fucks you further in love with him — if that’s possible. 

"No, say you love me. Say my name, Y/N," he groans, pulling his hips back only to thrust them forward so deep you cry out. 

You rack your nails down his skin while your leg tightens around his hip to pull him closer. 

“I love you, Renjun. So fucking much.” 

His thrusts become more abrupt at your words. "That's my girl" he rasps. 

When he feels you tipping over the edge his thrusts quicken at animalistic speed. "Go on baby - cum - let me feel it."

You couldn't stop it even if you tried — you wouldn’t. 

You let out a scream from the back of your throat at the force of him and chant out a string of mumbles of his name. Your body convulses and shakes whilst you clamp around his length to which Renjun grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

"Always so good for me — fuck!" His sentence gets cut short with a loud growl that sounds like it was punched out of him. His rhythm falters as he clings to you and sobs out moans against your neck.

He snaps his hips forward and sinks into you to grind his hips against you to linger in the feeling. His muscles shuddering and jolting as he gasps for air and his own orgasm punches into him. 

Hearing and feeling him in so much bliss is only dragging out the aftershocks of your own orgasm. You’re both a mess of limbs and shameless noises before you feel him still completely. His release erupts into you in warm spurts, his body twitching with each one.

You’re like a limp puddle, but Renjun stays clung to you, sucking in harsh breaths not daring to move and keeping your sweaty bodies tangled.

"Fuck, if not knowing what I want for my birthday means I get to have you like this, I never want anything ever again," he rasps, laughing under his breath and sounding delirious.

You can only hum in response, your mind too fucked out to even respond. 

You lay wrapped up in each other, and you know you need to get cleaned up, but you honestly can't be bothered. Enjoying the post-orgasmic pleasure too much. 

"Happy fucking birthday to me!”  he drawls, finally letting his face fall flush against the pillow.

#renjun smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #renjun scenarios #nct scenarios

[callsignspark]

change your ticket home

a top gun maverick AU

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Sherrie McHone (fem!OC)

summary: After a successful business trip on the West Coast, two Wells Corporation engineers have problems getting back home. Thank god for Bradley Bradshaw, a man who is determined to make their hours waiting in the terminal as enjoyable as possible. And if he and his pretty travel companion (and colleague) get closer along the way? Well that’s just a bonus.

warnings: difficulties of being a woman in a male-dominated field, minor misogyny from coworkers, yearning, pining, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, it's vaguely alluded to but Sherrie is named after the Steve Perry song, American Airlines bashing bc this fic is based on a real and horrible experience I had a few years ago. and yes, the title is from the one direction song.

word count: 9.8k | masterlist

note: happy saturday! this has been in the works for almost a year and I'm so thrilled to finally be sharing it! this is dedicated to @gretagerwigsmuse, who gave so many wonderful ideas and has continually been a cheerleader for this fic. happy birthday!

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 06:36 AM PST | San Diego, CA

“If I fake a heart attack, we can get out of this meeting, right?”

She looks over at Bradley sprawled in the uncomfortable café chair in his navy suit, his arm slung over the back of her chair. He’s down to just his crisp, white button-up, jacket, and tie abandoned within the first ten minutes of the call.

“Suck it up, we’re almost done.” She rolls her eyes. “And Martin knows you’re a supremely healthy thirty-two-year-old, so no, I don’t think that will work.”

“Sherrie…” His whine is cut off by her hand covering his mouth as she unmutes her microphone and mentally praises his decision to sit so close to her. Not having to pull out both laptops was just an additional perk on top of her ability to silence him.

“That’s correct, Sean. We got them to agree to a small batch trail run for the connectors. We’ll be working together on running them through environmental testing before committing to a full contract.”

“And why are they agreeing to that? Because frankly, it makes no sense to me why they would want to do that.”

Bradley straightens up, his eyes narrowing at the Teams box showing the older man’s initials. “Well, Sean, as Sherrie explained before. Harris hasn’t produced connectors like this before, and they’re interested in the test results, specifically the shock data. So they agreed to take on half the burden so they can use the information for their own use. If this works how we think it will, this will be a huge boost for their business, even if the patent is shared.”

She looks at him, half admonishment and half appreciation, always a little bit amazed when he had her back, no matter how many times he had done it. “The contracts team is drawing up the final agreements and negotiating with their team next week, so best case scenario is we have reports with usable data by the end of the summer. Worst case, it’ll drift into the middle of Q1.”

“That’s great work you guys did out there, thank you. Alright, I think that covers everything we had to talk about today. McHone, Bradshaw - have a safe flight back, and everyone have a good weekend!” Martin ends the call before anyone can add anything.

Bradley laughs. “God, he’s just as sick of Sean as I am. I can’t wait until he retires.”

“He’s not that bad; you’re just grumpy because you had to dress up for the staff meeting, and then Martin said cameras off today.”

“I am upset about that! I will be logging yet another suggestion that we should have casual Fridays and casual travel policy. But I’m more upset because he talks down to you all the time! Like you haven’t been carrying this department on your back since we started ten years ago!”

“Carrying is an exaggeration, Bradley.” She looks up from where she’s putting her laptop away. “I think you have time to change into something comfy before we board.”

“American Airlines Flight 2307 from San Diego to Charlotte, Boarding Group A can now board.”

“Or not.” She giggles as he groans, reaching over to pull her other air pod out of his ear. “Come on, it’s a long flight; you can sleep on the plane. Just be thankful you’re not wearing an underwire bra and heels.”

“I don’t know how you do that.” He mutters, shooing her away when she tries to pick up her carry-on, throwing it over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I don’t either. I’m going to get a massage when we get back to Boston.”

“Ohhh, a massage sounds nice.” He subtly sticks his elbow out for her grab, which she gratefully does, letting his tall frame guide her to their gate. “You know you didn’t have to wear heels, right?”

“You should shut up while I’m still thankful you yelled at Sean for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sherrie leans her head on his arm as they wait in the priority boarding line, one of the perks of traveling on the company’s dime. Normally, she would worry about being more professional while carrying her work bag that had the Wells Corporation logo embroidered on it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Yesterday’s meetings ran late, and the following client dinner had kept them out until almost midnight. After packing, going to bed late, and having to get up at 3:30AM to get to the airport, she was exhausted.

She takes her bag before they scan their tickets, not fighting when he grabs it again on their walk down the jet bridge.

“Where are you sitting again?”

“I’m in 16C.” She snorts at Bradley’s pout. “What? You knew we weren’t going to be sitting together.”

“But I’m going to be bored all the way back in 21D by myself.”

“Bud, you’re going to fall asleep in the first 30 minutes like you always do, and then I would be stuck for the next four hours with you leaning and drooling on me.”

Bradley whips his head around, “That is a baseless accusation. I do not drool!”

“You 100% definitely do drool, I’ve seen it.” Her smirk widens when his attempt to fight back is cut off by the flight attendants greeting them.

He ushers Sherrie on first, politely nodding to the flight crew before following her down the aisle, ducking down to whisper. “I do not drool.”

“You absolutely do drool. You also snore.”

She can feel eyes on them as they shuffle down the aisle, making eye contact with an older woman who raises her eyebrows in appreciation at the hunk of a man behind her.

This happens everywhere they go.

Bradley is such a gentleman, always opening doors and carrying her bags, that people never believe the two are just friends and coworkers. She’s had complete strangers fight with her when she says there’s nothing between them. Unable to accept that it’s just platonic.

As much as she wishes it could be more.

After years of learning all the little details of each other, she knows they would be good together. Their decade-long friendship allowing her to thoroughly analyze how well their personalities would mesh. They share the same beliefs and have the same interests; they even have overlapping friend groups. They’re made for each other.

On paper.

In reality, it will never happen.

She won’t let it.

“Is this good here?” Bradley’s question interrupts her weekly internal spiral; his big brown eyes blink at her over his shoulder as he puts her bag into the overhead compartment.

“That’s fine. Can you grab my water bottle out of the side pocket?

“Here ya go, ma’am. I’ll meet you by the water foundation when we land, okay?”

She nods, smiling as he hustles back to his seat to avoid a family almost flattening him in their haste to get to their assigned seats.

Her seat neighbors haven’t arrived yet, so Sherrie sits down without bothering to buckle, tucking her work bag under the row in front of her after pulling out her plane kit. Her pencil case from college that she’s repurposed to hold her headphones, phone charger, gum, hand sanitizer, and a few other small necessities.

Her phone buzzes as she’s storing her water bottle and the little bag away in the pocket of the seat in front of her.

Bradley is woken up by his seat neighbor hitting his arm as he reaches to grab a drink, nodding at the guy’s apologetic face before trying to get comfortable again. Alan talked way too much at dinner last night, and it was a struggle to stay awake during the project manager’s third round of gushing over how brilliant and profitable Sherrie’s proposal would be for both companies.

“Sir? This is for you, do you want it?” The muffled question is accompanied by someone shaking his shoulder. He peels open his eyes to see the flight attendant holding out two packets of Biscoff cookies.

His face must be confused enough for the short woman to take pity on him. “Your friend up there said these are your favorite and asked me to give hers to you.”

His heart warms up, taking the treats and saying thank you. He enjoys the cookies, washing them down with the ginger ale he also got, thinking about how well Sherrie knows him. He forces himself to wait for them to finish snack service before he gets up to use the restroom.

“Thank you.” Bradley revels in the way Sherrie jumps when he pops her headphone out, purposefully brushing his lips against her ear. “Hmmm, you were right, your seatmate is cute.”

She glares up at him, a smile threatening to break through. “Isn’t he? He fell asleep five minutes after take off, just like you.”

“Yet, another baseless accusation!”

“I heard you snoring.”

“You shouldn’t lie in front of small children.”

“His mom said he’s seven months old; I don’t think we have to be concerned about teaching him to lie while he’s still in a car seat.”

“Probably shouldn’t chance it, though. Say I don’t snore.”

“You just said I shouldn’t lie. Should probably go to the bathroom before you start holding up traffic.” She puts her headphone back in, wiggling her fingers at him before going back to reading on her phone.

It gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu.

Tuesday, March 25, 2005 | 10:43 AM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“…and he said you had already-” Bradley cuts himself off, realizing she can’t hear him. He chuckles; he should have known better than to just walk up and start talking.

He doesn’t know Sherrie McHone very well. They had taken all the freshman intro to engineering requirements together, and this year their classes had split into their chosen disciplines. His mechanical, hers electrical. But he knows her well enough to know that she can pretty much only be found without her headphones during class.

He remembers the first time they spoke last semester after he accidentally walked right into her. He had told Danny it’s because she’s so much shorter than him, but it’s really because he wasn't paying attention.

Sherrie had only taken one earpiece out to make sure he was okay before continuing onto her class, seamlessly weaving between upperclassmen as she shoved her headphone back in.

“Sherrie?” No response.

He lets out a tiny huff and checks his watch. Normally, he wouldn’t care that she’s clueless to his existence even as he’s right beside her, but he’s got a class soon, and he’s still two buildings away. So he does the only thing he can.

He pops her headphones out and steps back for fear of getting smacked.

Her head whips up, narrowing in on him freakishly fast. “What the fuck, Bradshaw?”

He’s surprised to learn that she knows his name.

“Sorry, Sherrie! I’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes, and you somehow haven’t noticed, but I’ve got class in 15 minutes, so I needed to get your attention.”

“Oh…” Her green eyes widen in surprise, the apples of her cheeks turning a light pink. “Sorry about that. What did you need? Wait. How did you find me?”

A fair question.

“Khondker told me where you sit.” He partially fibs.

All semester he had been watching her disappear after EE221, the one class they shared. It had taken him a while, but he was pretty sure he had found her secret study nook in the electrical engineering wing of the building. Their TA had only confirmed Bradley’s theory of where he could find his fellow sophomore.

“I don’t understand this last section we’ve been learning, and Khondker said you had already finished the homework and could help me. So could you?”

“He didn’t help you?” Sherrie raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“He tried.” Bradley scratches the back of his head, remembering how frustrated the patient man had been after his third attempt at explaining. “I just really don’t understand circuit loops. And he thought having a classmate explain it to me would make it stick. That or he was just so sick of me, he’s pawning me off.”

He watches her think, her pencil rapidly tapping against her notebook, making him nervous.

“I don’t want to be rude, but if you don’t understand current loops, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I understand the material, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

Her bluntness makes him smile. “I’m not expecting miracles, just help with the homework. If you have time.”

“Okay, just as long as you don’t get your hopes up too much.” She grabs a bright pink notebook and opens it up. “So, I’m usually free-”

“I don't want to interrupt, but I do have to get to class, so could we figure out a time later today?”

“Sure, I’ll be here until my class at four. Feel free to sit down if I’m not here; it just means I’m grabbing food.” He nods, backing away. “Wait! Bradley! Go down this hall and out the side door. You’ll be like halfway there already.”

“Awesome, thanks!” He starts to jog down the hallway, looking back to see her putting her headphones back in. Waving back when she smiles and wiggles her fingers at him before going back to her homework.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:16 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Our flight got delayed, and I’m hungry.”

Sherrie jumps, not expecting Bradley to get that close to her face three seconds after she exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I could eat. Where do you wan-”

“Auntie Anne’s.”

He’s walking away before she can even process what he said. She allows herself one second to appreciate the way he looks, walking through the concourse - navy slacks fitting his legs perfectly and all their bags thrown over his broad shoulders - before she’s clicking along after him.

“Bradshaw!” He freezes and turns, almost taking a lanky teenager out with her backpack. “Oh my god, Bradley! Be careful! You almost took that kid’s head off.”

His smile is sheepish as she shuffles them over to the wall. “I did not do that on purpose.”

She giggles and takes her backpack from his shoulder. “Yeah, I kinda figured. But you should have seen his face. His life flashed before his eyes. All sixteen years.”

“I can carry that Sherrie.”

“That’s okay, I got it. No! Bradley!”

He ignores her, smiling at her frustrated little stomp when he hands over her tan, cross-body purse out of her work bag. “You just carry that and make sure I don’t take out any toddlers or old ladies.”

“How am I supposed to do that if I’m ahead of you?” She snarks as he steers them toward the food stands.

“You’re smart; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Bradley laughs when she mocks him under her breath. “I can hear you, smartass.”

“You were meant to, Bradley.”

His heart flutters at the teasing wink she sends over her shoulder. It’s been twelve years since they became friends, and he still feels like that 20-year-old kid who was nervous to talk to the pretty red-headed girl he had a crush on.

He can feel eyes on them as her heels catch people’s attention, and he finds himself glaring at men who are shamelessly staring. Her shoes aren’t loud as they click along on the tile floor, but it’s hard to ignore the beautiful woman striding along in business casual.

It happens everywhere they go.

Sherrie has always been beautiful and painfully unaware of her effect on men. It never matters where they are - at work, the rare baseball game he forces her to attend, happy hour with their friends from school - she always catches attention. It doesn’t bother him because she never reciprocates, and he’s always the one to give her a ride back to her apartment.

Even if he wishes it was their apartment they were going to.

He’s watched her change over the last decade, seen her grow as a person. He’s risen through the ranks with her professionally, the two of them matching each other step for step with each promotion and raise. He’s publicly assured her that her hair still looks good as it’s deepened color with age, now less red and more auburn. He’s privately appreciated the way her body has changed, softer and curvier than when they were kids. Her wide hips are a frequent star in his daydreams.

It's the only place where they’ll ever be in a relationship.

He knows they’d be perfect together. Old friends who know each other so well they don’t even have to talk to communicate sometimes. Whose attitudes fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly in sync with each other. He knows it won’t happen. Can’t happen.

“Grab us a table, and I’ll get the food.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t fight her about paying, knowing this will be covered under their per diem. “Don’t forget my-”

“You’re frozen lemonade, I know!”

Bradley rolls his eyes at the hand that waves over her shoulder, settling their bags at a table and keeping an eye on Sherrie while sending an update to Mav.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard. He wants to tell his uncle the whole situation - that he’s not afraid to flirt with Sherrie.

“Everything okay?”

Bradley looks up to find her eyebrows furrowed as she sets a tray down.

“All good. Just sending my family an update that we’re delayed.”

She nods, sitting in the chair across from him. “Here’s your mini pretzel dogs, with mustard and a frozen lemonade. This is my pretzel nuggets, cheese sauce, and Diet Coke. Oh! And I got us these cinnamon sugar pretzels to share!”

“Thank you for remembering the mustard.”

“Bradley, when have I ever forgotten the mustard? Here, take some napkins.”

He shoves an entire mini pretzel dog in his mouth in lieu of answering her question, which they both know the answer to. Never. She has never forgotten his love for pretzels with mustard.

They eat in comfortable silence, the way only two friends can, occasionally dunking into each other's sauces as they scroll through their phones.

“Hey, how is your da- oh Bradley! You got mustard on your shirt!” His head snaps down to his shirt, groaning when he sees the yellow blob on his white button-up.

“Fuck! This is new, too!”

Sherrie dives into her bag, muttering about a stain stick, a triumphant noise escaping when she comes up successful. Scooting closer to him, she’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as she helps him clean his shirt.

Friday, April 6, 2007 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“You should’ve been gone, knowing how I made you feel!”

Sherrie’s head pops up from the lab reports she’s grading.

“And I should've been gone, after all your words of steel!”

She knows that voice.

“Oh, I must've been a dreamer! And I must've been someone else!”

She knows that voice very well.

“And we should've been over!”

She rushes for the front door, hoping and praying that the idiot she’s become close friends with this year isn’t actually outside her townhouse.

“Oh! Sherrie, our love holds on! Holds on!”

She whips the door open and, sure enough, drunkenly singing to her neighbor's house is Bradley Bradshaw.

“Bradley!” She hisses at him, ignoring the flutters in her stomach when he points his big, goofy grin towards her and not the tulips the soccer girls next door planted in front of their bay window. “What are you doing? It’s 10 PM!”

“You didn’t come.”

“First man to ever care about that.” She mutters, snorting at her joke.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

His puppy dog eyes are vicious, and she has the urge to slap her hand over her eyes so she doesn’t succumb to their power. “You didn’t come to the party!”

Sherrie sighs, she thought he might be disappointed she didn’t come to the annual Sigma Chi Easter Bash, but she never thought he would actually notice her absence. Or that it would result in a drunken serenade.

“Bradley, I told you I had a lot of grading and might not make it tonight.” She gently reminds him, stifling a laugh when he trips over his own feet while standing still. “You okay?”

“I have to pee. Can I come in?”

She’s pretty sure he’s just making excuses but lets him in any way; she doesn’t need to deal with him getting a public indecency charge on top of everything else. “Shoes off, Bradshaw. Bathroom is right here; I’ll be in the dining room.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He sloppily salutes her, losing his balance and thunking against the wall, one shoe still on.

Sherrie just blinks at him before returning to her spot at the dining room table, holding in the laugh threatening to escape. She settles in her chair, focusing on the mediocre reports her students had turned in.

“I washed my hands!” Bradley’s abrupt entrance startles her. “Can we have a snack? I’m hungry?

She watches in amusement as he shuffles to her fridge, riffling through the shelves before opening the freezer and gasping.

“I love pretzels. Can we make these? Please?”

The box of pretzels belongs to her roommate, but she’s not strong enough to deny Bradley’s big brown eyes two times in a row so she makes a mental note to buy Amna a new box the next time she goes to the store. “Yeah, we can. But no touching the oven when you’re drunk. Go sit down.”

“I’m not drunk!” He argues even as he follows her directions, plopping himself at the table and nosily leafing through her done pile. “Wow, lots of red here.”

“Bradley! Don’t look at those!”

“Why not?”

“Would you want some random student looking through your homework?”

His rebuttal gets cut off by the oven beeping, announcing it’s up to temp. After she pops the tray in the oven, she turns and catches him appreciating the pj shorts riding up her shapely legs.

“What?” Her head cocks in confusion.

“Nothin'… cute shorts.”

“Thank you.” He watches in fascination as she snips at him even while her cheeks turn pink. “It’s almost like I was dressed for comfort and not planning on being interrupted.”

“But you’re glad I’m here, right?”

“I’ve had worse company on a Friday night.” She nudges him out of her chair. “While those are baking, go find something to watch, and I’m going to finish grading this report.”

“Such a responsible TA.”

Pride fills his chest as Sherrie snorts at his joke and goes back to work. They’ve officially been friends since last year, but he still tries his hardest to make her laugh. She's always so busy and stressed, and she does the cutest little snort-laugh when he catches her off guard.

He puts on a random movie, just grabbing a VHS case with the Disney logo on the side, before plopping on the couch. “Is there a reason you have so many kids movies?”

“Those are Jayla’s, she collects them.” Sherrie answers, never looking up from the table. “What did you choose?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“You don’t remember, huh?”

“Nope! I’ll be quiet now.”

She hums a thank you in his direction, and Bradley keeps his promise, watching her work and staying quiet until the timer goes off. His chin hooked on the back of the couch; he follows her movement through the kitchen as she pulls the pretzels out and transfers them to a plate.

“Can I have mustard, please?”

“Sure can.” Sherrie smiles at his dopey smile as she makes her way to the couch. “Here, take these, then we can eat.”

He gulps down the painkillers she drops in his hand, chugging the rest of the apple juice after they’re gone, smiling when she absentmindedly praises him for listening. He shoves a bite of pretzel in his mouth and mashes the play button, and is pleasantly surprised to find A Bug’s Life was the mystery choice.

“I love this movie,” he garbles through a pretzel. “I love how Flick wins over the princess just by getting a chance to show off his true self.”

“That was shockingly wise for the drunk man sprawled on my couch.”

Bradley thanks her, already a bit more sober but not enough to pick up on her teasing. “So, why didn’t you come? Grading really couldn’t wait?”

“It probably could have, but I’m not a partier, Bradley. You know that.” She dips a piece of pretzel in the mustard. “Besides, I really didn’t think you would notice I wasn’t there, Mr. Popular.”

“You’re the only person I invited; of course, I noticed when you didn’t show up.”

“Really? No one else? Why?”

“I know it’s almost finals, but I wanted to hang out without any books in front of us; that’s all we do lately. Study. Plus, you’ve been extra stressed about something that you don’t want to talk about, and I just wanted you to relax since you won’t talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”

“That’s sweet of you, Bradley. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just that my family has been…” She waves a hand through the air, a deep sigh escaping. “It’s complicated. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“Well, I’m here if you do want to talk.”

“Thanks bud. How about you? How’re your parents?” She takes one last chunk before nudging the plate in his direction and settling back into the corner.

“Mom is good; she’s close to being considered cancer-free. I think we’re gonna throw a party when she gets there.”

“That’s awesome, Bradley! I’m glad she’s doing so well. How’s your dad?”

“Mav isn’t my dad.”

A record scratch plays in Sherrie’s head as she freezes. She knows she’s heard Bradley talk about his dad, and she’d seen photos of his parents the one time she had visited his frat house last year. He had specifically pointed the photo out, telling her it was his parents. She had even been next to him when he was on the phone when he said “dad” to the person on the other end.

“My dad died when I was three. Mav is- was his best friend. I call him dad sometimes because he’s the closest thing I’ve got.”

Sherrie feels her heart break as Bradley sniffles and sadly shoves a mustard-covered pretzel in his mouth, unshed tears clumping his eyelashes. She’s never seen her friend like this before; she’s experienced many other emotions - frustration, joy, confusion - but the pain creasing his brow is new.

Comforting crying people has never been her forte, but instinctively - almost like they moved without her permission - Sherrie’s fingers run over his hair. Gently stroking the sun-streaked waves as a few tears escape down his cheeks and she scoots closer, letting her body press into his side and hoping the proximity helps.

“I’m sorry for crying on you.” He quietly apologizes after a few minutes of tears.

“S’okay. Family can be hard sometimes.”

“Complicated.”

“That too.” She hums, not moving as he swipes at his eyes and leans against her more, his head resting on her shoulder in a slouched position that can’t be comfortable.

“I love Mav; he’s my dad in all the ways it matters. It just sucks that my actual dad won’t be here for graduation. Like, I know he’s missed so much of my life already, but something about him missing college graduation is worse than everything else. It’s just so unfair; I barely remember him, but I just- I just miss him so much, Sherrie.”

Her heart cracks in half at the whispered confession. She can’t even imagine the pain of losing a parent at such a young age. The inability to remember one of the people responsible for giving you life, all memories fuzzy and most built from second-hand recollections of those who can remember. So she says the one thing she would want to hear.

“Tell me about him.”

Sherrie knows she said the right thing when his red-rimmed eyes brighten, and he immediately launches into a beloved story detailing his father’s love of pranks. She listens dutifully — laughing at the right moments and asking questions when Bradley gets carried away, forgetting that she doesn’t know all the people in his story — and feels her heart warm more and more. She’s always liked Bradley, probably more than she should, but it’s hard not to like him. He’s considerate, smart, and funny, not to mention handsome.

Thankfully, before she gets lost in thoughts of broad shoulders and strong jawlines, a big glob of mustard drops on Bradley’s t-shirt, abruptly cutting him off. The two stare in silence at the yellow condiment sitting on the black cotton shirt, somehow surprised at its appearance, before breaking down into giggles.

“C’mon Bradshaw,” Sherrie grabs his hand, pulling him off the couch. “I have a Tide pen we can use on that mess.”

Bradley follows her up the stairs and into the bathroom, teasing Sherrie about the way her tongue pokes out when she focuses. She takes the gentle taunts, grateful he’s focusing on that and not on her pink cheeks or the way her eyes keep darting to his toned stomach. She’s not sure it was completely necessary for him to strip his shirt off, but she won’t be complaining.

“Well,” A few minutes later, she interrupts his rambling story about a slip and slide. Or she thinks that’s what it’s about; she missed the first part. “I think this is as good as I can get it.”

“That’s okay; it’s not like it’s new or anything. Thanks, Sherrie.”

She steadfastly ignores the pounding heart in her chest as miles of golden skin gets covered back up, trying to not feel too disappointed by its disappearance.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:56 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Bradley complains a bit too loudly, ears going hot when several pairs of eyes curiously dart toward him, but his focus doesn’t stay on that for very long when he catches the face Sherrie makes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

He squints suspiciously as she avoids eye contact. He usually takes her at her word and doesn’t push, but the frown pulling down the corners of her pink lips sets off bells in his head. “Sherrie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Bradley. I’m fine.”

He grumbles at her lack of response but settles again in the spot they had claimed after finishing their snack. The gate was still packed, but they had found a prime location with outlets; the only downside was having to sit on the floor, something that is getting harder the older they get.

Bradley scans the area, trying to scout out some open chairs for them to grab, while Sherrie goes back to the movie they’ve been watching on his phone. His eyes drop away from the chairs in surprise when she scoots closer and leans on his shoulder. It’s not uncommon for them to sit close like this at home in Boston, sides pressed together, but she makes a point to be professional when they’re on travel.

“Hey,” he gently nudges her side, concern rising when she doesn’t lift her head, choosing to tilt her neck back, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Panic grips his chest when tears start forming, clouding her green eyes. “Sherrie?! What’s wrong?”

“We were supposed to be halfway home by now, and I’m so uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Bradley, I’m just so tired.” She whimpers, hiding against his bicep.

It hits him like a glass of cold water. Of course, she’s uncomfortable. She’s been walking around in heels and her pantsuit since 4AM California time after getting maybe three hours of sleep. His suit and shoes are comfortable and easily wearable for twelve-plus hours, not to mention the jacket and tie that were ditched sometime after the mustard incident.

“Oh, Sherrie, it’s okay. Let’s go change, yeah? Then we’ll find a quieter place so you can close your eyes and maybe get some sleep.”

“But the policy…”

Bradley resists the urge to roll his eyes at her insistence on rule-following. “In the nicest way possible, Sher, fuck the policy. You’re uncomfortable, and I care about that way more than I could ever care about a stupid, archaic policy.”

He stands, unplugging their phones and gathering their bags on his shoulder before turning to his best friend, who is still on the floor. “C’mon, we’re putting comfy clothes on.”

“But Bradley-”

“No arguing.” He interrupts, helping her off the ground and directing them back towards the restrooms. “We’re not going to sit in our suits for god knows how much longer.”

“But Bradley, I don’t have anything to change into. We had such a packed schedule I didn’t bother to bring normal clothes.” He ignores the thumping of his heart when her hand grabs his forearm, warm fingers slipping under the edge of the rolled-up sleeve as she tugs to slow his pace. At that information, he slides them out of the flow of traffic and over to the wall, Bradley pressing her against one of the columns lining the concourse atrium.

“You don’t have any regular clothes? What about your pajamas?”

“I have a pair of leggings because I was going to do a training run in the gym last night, but that’s it. I can’t wear my pjs because… well, they’re not appropriate for public.”

“Your leggings are clean, though, right?” He asks, ignoring the thoughts of what non-public appropriate pajamas might look like.

“Well, yeah, dinner went so late I barely had time to sleep before we had to be up. I guess I could buy a shirt at one of the SmartShop- what are you doing?”

Bradley peers up from his knees, where he had started digging in his bag. “I’m grabbing one of my shirts for you. Would you prefer a t-shirt or a sweatshirt? Actually, you’re definitely gonna get cold, sweatshirt for you.”

He pulls the worn, gray crew neck out, shaking it out before handing it over.

“You still have this?” The disbelief in her voice makes him laugh.

“Of course, I still have that! Relay was always my favorite event of the year. And that year was my favorite one.”

As the philanthropy chair of Sigma Chi, part of his job was to sign the brothers up for volunteer events and fundraisers. With his mom’s diagnosis, he ensured their schedule included the campus’ annual Relay for Life event, pouring as many resources as he could into the fundraiser that directly helped advance cancer research.

“Wait, but why was junior year your favorite?” She asks, brushing her fingers over the cracked, screen-printed logo.

“Because that’s the reason we became friends, Sher.”

Surprised green eyes meet sincere brown eyes, a thousand words said in the silence of their stares, both remembering the lead-up to that day in April so many years ago.

Bradley’s eyes widen in panic as everyone at the gate starts moving as a herd. They had finally found seats to relax in after changing, the group of passengers waiting with them shrinking as time went on. And now, with only ten minutes until boarding, their gate has changed again.

“Sherrie, wake up!” He feels bad shaking the snoozing woman off, but they have to move with the group to make it to the new part of Terminal A in time for their flight. “C’mon, honey, they changed the gate again — we gotta go!”

“What are you- again?! Shit!” She wipes the bleariness from her eyes, slinging her bags over her shoulder and grabbing the hand he holds out.

The two coworkers, along with fifty of their fellow passengers who have stuck this out, speed walk down the first branch of the terminal. The entire group picking up the pace when turning the corner towards the second branch where the new gate lives. By the time they hit the second branch, everyone is practically running — time ticking down to boarding — no one wanting to miss this flight.

As if the blob of Flight 1121 passengers racing toward the end of the terminal didn’t garner attention from other gates, the entire terminal is staring by the time they reach gate A28, and several people start yelling in frustration.

“This is unbelievable!” An older gentleman’s unhappiness is interrupted by three simultaneous updates pinging everyone’s phones.

Bradley’s head drops back in disbelief, wrapping his arm around Sherrie when her head thunks against his chest. He doesn’t even get a chance to comfort her before the gate agents are making announcements about getting people on other flights, providing hotel rooms, and the vouchers that will be shared.

“Again, we apologize, but if you have flexible travel plans, we ask that you please go to the end of the line so those with time constraints can be taken care of first. Thank you for your cooperation, folks!”

“Well, that’s us, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sherrie blows air out of her lips, a mischievous smile taking over her face. “Hey, at least this means extra per diem money.”

Bradley laughs as they move to the back of the squiggly line that’s forming, letting her take the bags so he can step away to call to update their supervisor and then his pet sitter. It only takes a few rings for his boss to pick up. “Bradshaw! What’s up? You okay?”

“Hey Martin, all good. Just wanted to let you know that our flight has gotten supremely delayed. We won’t be home until tomorrow morning sometime.”

“Jesus, do you guys need anything?”

“Nah, we’re good. The airline is putting us up in a hotel for the night and giving vouchers for a bunch of stuff. Just called to let you know and for a heads up on the expense report.”

“Well, that is the most important part!” Martin’s honking laugh makes Bradley chuckle as he glances to check on Sherrie’s progress in line. “How’s Sherrie? She good?”

“Yeah, she’s good. She’s holding our spot in line for getting new tickets and stuff.” And it looks like she’s made friends already, he silently adds, smiling at her interacting with the elderly couple in front of her.

“Good. Alright then, I’ll see you on Monday, but let me know if you guys need anything. And hey! If you two end up in the same hotel room — remember what I said on your first day!”

The line goes dead, and so does Bradley’s smile, his stomach churning like it does every time he remembers his first day at the Wells Corporation.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007 | 11:15 AM EST | Boston, MA

“Will you calm down?”

“I can’t, Bradley. What if no one likes me? What if I fuck up?!” She hisses, working to appear calm as they wait for their supervisor to show up, but failing.

“First of all, we’re starting together, so you have at least one person that likes you. And you’re great, everyone will like you. Second, there will be mistakes, but we just graduated — they’re not going to let us do anything alone because we don’t know anything yet.”

Sherrie nods, tucking her hands under her legs and trying to breathe. Bradley’s words are encouraging, but he doesn’t know how difficult her internship was last summer. The older engineers she shadowed treated her like a glorified coffee girl and secretary. Even when she had pointed out a mistake they all had missed, there was no change — just the addition of making her type their reports to see if she could catch something the non-engineer tech writers would miss.

This is a brand new company, but misogyny wasn’t unique to Waite Green Construction. Every woman has to work twice as hard to prove her worth and intellect, no matter her age or experience. She’s just hoping her onboarding mentor will be the only other woman in the department; it would be the perfect way to gain a professional mentor once she’s out of the probation period.

“Good morning, kids! How was orientation?” Mr. Teresi walks into the conference room.

Bradley shakes his hand first, “It was good, sir. Nice to see you again.”

“Good to hear! Learn lots of new things.”

“Yes, I think we can be considered experts on trade secrets now.” Sherrie jokes, focusing on making sure her handshake is firm but not too firm.

“Wonderful. So, I’m guessing you two have been introduced, but just in case you haven’t. Bradley, this is Sherrie McHone; she’s an electrical engineer. And Sherrie, this is Bradley Bradshaw, a mechanical engineer.”

“We actually went to school together, sir.”

“We’re friends,” Bradley adds, the two of them exchanging small smiles.

“Oh, great! Well, that makes things easier getting started. Now let’s go over my plan for the two of you, and then we’ll get lunch, my treat for your first day.”

Their supervisor talks for half an hour, going over things they’ll need to be trained in and their first assignments. By the time he’s done, several notebook pages have been filled and highlighted with things that need to be looked up.

“Alright!” The older engineer claps, rubbing his hands together. “I’m sure your brains are overloaded with information, so go drop your things at your desks, and we’ll head to lunch.”

The recent graduates gather their notes and head for the door, quietly talking about a training they’ll be attending next week when he stops them. “One more thing, guys. They never mention it during R&D orientation, but I feel it’s necessary to mention it to new people. Here at Wells, there isn’t a fraternization policy among non-management coworkers or between any employees in different divisions. But we are a fairly small department, so keep in mind who you interact with and what impacts that may have at work.”

Sherrie feels the blood drain from her already pale face as her brand new supervisor stares at her the entire time he speaks, ignoring Bradley completely. She’s going to be sick. Less than four hours into the first professional role of her career, and it’s already happening.

This is the moment it starts, she thinks, her heart pounding in her throat as she robotically nods. It’s never the men that get these warnings. It’s always the women. Always us. Always me.

“I don’t care about that. But there are some people who will, even though they shouldn’t. And I want you guys to have the best experience here you possibly can. You’re both extremely bright, and I’m excited about your futures. I don’t want you to get bogged down by the opinions of others. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” They answer in unison before filing out of the conference room.

“Sherrie, don’t worry about that. He’s just-”

“Trust me, Bradley. I know exactly what he was saying. I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’ll meet you guys at the elevator.”

“Sherrie…”

But she ignores her friend, shrugging her purse over her shoulder and keeping her face neutral as she heads for the single-stall ladies’ room. Fighting to hold the tears back until she’s inside for fear of being perceived as emotional. A quality no woman can afford to have in a professional setting.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 8:05 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Hey, everything? Martin says hi.”

“We’re good! This is Mr. and Mrs. Ludden; they’re going to visit their newest granddaughter. How’re Sophie and Louis?” Bradley smiles at the excited way she introduces them, putting a steadying hand on her back when she bounces up on her toes.

“Oh, congrats! They’re good; Marie can watch’em one more day, problem.”

“Good, we’ll have to get her a thank you present for the short notice.”

“You didn’t tell us you guys had kids!”

Bradley and Sherrie freeze in place, eyes widening in surprise at the older woman’s words.

“Oh- uh- we-” Sherrie giggles awkwardly. “Sophie and Louis are our cats; we don’t have kids.”

“I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Ludden gasps, hand covering her mouth in shock while her husband groans her name.

“Louise, how many times do we have to do this before you stop making assumptions?”

“It’s okay, innocent mistake,” Bradley assures them.

“Well, they’re such a cute couple. I just thought they would have adorable children, too!”

“Actually… we’re not…”

“Oh, lord. Let me guess. You’re not dating. You’re just friends.”

“Coworkers too, but we were friends first.” Sherrie suppresses a laugh when the older gentleman rubs a hand over his eyes in exasperation.

“Don’t even start, Clayton!”

“I wasn’t going to, dear.”

Bradley can’t help the laugh that escapes at the comfortable ribbing they give each other; it reminds him of his friendship with Sherrie. The easy way they tease, never going too far.

“Would you two like to join us after we get rebooked?” Bradley asks. “We’re going to use our food vouchers tonight to grab dinner before we head to whatever hotel they put us up in.”

The four adults move through the line, chatting about small things and comparing pictures of grandkids and cats. It’s a nice way to spend the time, especially when they get to share judging looks when a woman throws a tantrum and yells at the gate agent. But soon enough, they’re walking back to the main concourse and deciding what food to get.

“No, stop. You just sit here with the bags, and I’ll grab the food.” Bradley gently pushes Sherrie back into her chair, rolling his eyes as he talks over her protests. “I know. You want mac and cheese, Diet Coke, and whatever pulled pork flavor looks best.”

“He’s sweet,” Louise says, watching the two men make their way over to the BBQ place.

“He’s annoying.” Which makes her companion laugh. “Yes, he’s very sweet. I’m lucky to be such good friends with him.”

“Can I ask why the two of you aren’t together? He even knows what food to bring you.”

“It’s just never been like that between us. We’ve always just been friends. And he’s annoyingly smart, so he always remembers what I order.” Sherrie half smiles, pushing down the pain in her chest at the harmless curiosity, watching Bradley laugh at something Clayton says as she remembers the first time he remembered one of her favorites.

Saturday, March 4, 2006 | 1:34 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“Thanks for meeting me on a Saturday, Bradshaw. It’s just such a busy semester.”

“No problem. You know you can call me Bradley, right?”

“Oh, sorry. Do you not like being called Bradshaw?” Sherrie blinks when a bottle of Diet Coke and a small bag of Skittles is set on the table in front of her. “What’s this?”

“Your favorite snack.”

“Right… but why?”

“Because you have that about 50% of the time when we meet up to work on this project. Now, I finished transcribing the interview with Commander Buck last night. Did you want to- Sherrie?”

She shifts her focus from the food to the boy across from her in the study nook they’ve claimed as theirs for the semester. “Why do you remember my favorite snack?”

“Because we’re friends?” Brown eyes look into hers, equally confused.

“We’re friends?”

“I hope so; otherwise, this is gonna get awkward when you hug me in a minute.”

“Why am I going to hug you?!”

Bradley laughs at her flabbergasted expression, but it doesn’t hurt her feelings like it does when other people laugh at her. Something about the tone of the laugh makes it feel like he’s laughing at her, but rather with her, and she just doesn’t know the joke yet.

“Because as team captain, I am happy to announce to the Relay Chair that Sigma Chi has officially raised $5,000 thanks to your idea.”

“Bradley, that’s incredible!” She doesn’t feel silly when she bounces around the table to hug his neck, rocking them back and forth in excitement.

“Well, if you think that’s good - let me show you what we’re anticipating to raise this month…”

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“I just don’t understand how we’re having such bad luck!”

Sherrie rolls her eyes as he unlocks the door. “Bradley, breathe. You’re being very dramatic right now.”

“How is “we’re out of rooms” a legitimate reason for the hotel to give? Not that I mind sharing with you, but like how is that possible? The airline specifically works with them to book rooms for things like this! And the airline! That gate agent who wanted to book us to fly into Hartford and then drive the rest of the way to Boston! That's insane!”

“I don’t know, the Bradley flying into Bradley joke was pretty funny.” She mutters, clicking the lights on as she checks the cleanliness of the room.

“It wasn’t.” Bradley pouts, flopping onto the bed closest to the door. “Do you want to shower first?”

“No, go ahead, but I’m going to wash my face first so I can do a face mask. I’m so dry from the airport air.” He listens to the sounds of water running and the quiet humming as she carefully applies the drenched sheet to her skin. “All yours!”

“Thanks, Sher. I won’t be long.”

He showers quickly but takes extra time cleaning his teeth, his mouth feeling gross after the long travel day. When he comes out, he’s surprised at how cozy the room feels. With only one lamp on, the air conditioning set low to keep the fan running, and an old movie on the TV, it almost feels like they could be at home in his living room. They silently move around each other, Sherrie heading to the bathroom with a pile of things while Bradley organizes his things for the morning, wanting to get as much rest as possible before their early alarm.

He scrolls through emails and texts while he waits for her to shower, turning the television off since he knows there’s a small chance of either of them making it five minutes after they kill the lights. He's updating Mav on tomorrow’s travel plans when Sherrie comes out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. Bradley sees her packing things out of the corner of his eye, not fully paying attention until he plugs his phone in.

“That’s what you wear to bed?”

“Bradley!” He laughs at how she jumps, her hands coming down to cover her shorts.

“What? They’re cute! Very pink.”

Her face goes as pink as the pajama set she’s wearing. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not! You know, I love strawberries.” He can’t help the way his eyes roam up and down her body, admiring from the spaghetti straps on her smooth shoulders to the scalloped edge of her shorts. “I see why you didn’t want to change into those at the airport.”

“Oh my god…” She huffs, climbing into her own queen bed and stuffing herself under the sheets. “You set an alarm, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Want me to turn the light off?”

“Please. God, this day cannot be over soon enough.”

He chuckles and turns the lamp off, listening to her shuffle around in the sheets as she gets comfortable. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and he can hear her breathing leveling out, but he can’t keep quiet; the conversation at the airport running through his mind.

“Sher?” It takes a second, but she quietly hums in response. “We have to talk about it again.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Sherrie-”

“No, Bradley. We talked about this two weeks ago. Nothing has changed since then.”

“Yes, things have changed since then. You interviewed for that principal engineer position. Which if you get-”

“I’m not going to get it. They’re going to pick Trevor.”

“They’re going to pick you. You’re the best person for the job!”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it.”

He’s silent, the crushing weight on his chest feeling heavier when he hears her sniffle.

“Oh, Sherrie…” He slips out of his bed and into hers, wrapping the woman he loves in his arms. He lets her cry, knowing she’s frustrated and exhausted, only speaking up again when she’s calmed down. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, I’m sorry, Bradley. It’s not fair that we’ve been dancing around this for so many years, and I keep saying no. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to be with you. Not a coward like me.”

“You’re not a coward; you’re one of the bravest people I know, Sherrie Anne McHone. I know how critical people are of women, in this field especially. And I love you, so I don’t mind waiting until we’re in a position that you’re confident won’t jeopardize your career. So, we’ll wait to hear about the job, and once you hear that you’ve gotten it, I’m treating you to the nicest dinner in Boston.”

“Bradley, we don’t know-”

“I know we don’t know. But think about how it would be if it does. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“But what about-”

“Doesn’t matter, honey.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.” Sherrie mumbles, cuddling further into his side, making it clear that he wasn’t allowed to leave.

“I know, but it doesn’t matter, whatever it is — we’ll figure it out.”

Saturday, July 16, 2016 | 10:32 AM EST | Somewhere over Virginia

“She’ll take a ginger ale; thank you so much.” Bradley balances his apple juice, the two packets of Biscoff cookies, and the bubbling soda he got for Sherrie. The smiling flight attendant moves past their row as he turns to his row companion.

They’re finally on their way home after waking up to more delay announcements. The additional time meant there was time to get coffee and some fruit from the hotel before their taxi back to the airport arrived, and the Luddens had even stopped to chat for a second at the gate, excited that they had gotten bumped up to first class since the flight was nearly empty.

All things considered, it had been a good morning even though Sherrie was insisting on working during the flight. Bradley is sure it’s an attempt to ignore their talk from last night, not wanting to dwell on the emotional moment when things are still so up in the air.

He looks over at the woman he’s known since he was eighteen, overwhelmed for a moment by how little things have changed since the first time he ever noticed her. Bradley fondly watches as she furiously types, hunched over her laptop with headphones, playing what he knows is eighties hair bands.

Her nose wrinkles in frustration, and suddenly it’s 2003 again, and he’s trying to get the attention of the red-haired girl whose table has the only empty chair left, something he desperately needs since this book can’t leave the library. He’s unable to get her attention and resorts to knocking on the table, heart skipping a beat when the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen blink up at him. Bradley gestures at the empty chair, silently asking if he can sit, and is grateful when she nods because her smile is making his knees wobble. For the next hour, he tries to take notes for his paper, but he keeps getting distracted by the beautiful girl across from him. Bradley isn’t sure if he’s upset or happy when she packs up her stuff and leaves, giving him a little wave when she notices him watching her.

That had been thirteen years ago, and her intense focus still distracts him, but he’s not afraid to interrupt her this time. Fingers rub her arm that is covered in his sweatshirt again, but this time, he knows it smells like her shampoo instead of his cologne. Her smile still sends his heart skipping when she looks up at him, her pretty eyes widening in joy when she catches sight of the red snack packaging and the plastic cup holding her second favorite soda.

“Thank you!” She whispers, leaning across the empty middle seat in their row to kiss his cheek. “Oh, and we should go out to lunch when we get back! I want to try that new noodle place that opened in Southie.”

He just smiles when she immediately gets back to work; cheek puffed out from the cookie she stuffed in her mouth.

Maybe she’s not avoiding our talk from last night.

Thursday, August 11, 2017 | 2:15 PM EST | Boston, MA

“You got a minute?” Bradley knocks on the edge of her cubicle. It may be a different floor of their building, but all of the office space is the same dated stuff from decades ago.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“First of all…” He ducks down and presses a swift kiss to her plush mouth, still trying to make up for all those years he couldn’t. “And don’t say anything because I already checked before I did because I wanted to kiss my girl.”

He chuckles at the pink spots that shine on her cheeks. It’s been a year since Sherrie snagged the promotion, and they officially became an item, but she still turns a little red whenever he says something sweet.

“Second, you are all packed, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I was gonna swing by the apartment and get our bags so we can head straight to the airport after work.”

“You took the afternoon off? Why?”

Bradley was expecting this question and smoothly fibs. “I worked the hours out with Martin for this week so I could run a few last-minute errands. Do you want me to grab snacks?”

“Okay, Mr. Secrets. When you’re at home, could you water the ivy? I forgot this morning, and I don’t want it to die while we’re gone.”

“Of course! Need me to do anything else?”

Sherrie hums, staring at the ceiling as she thinks. “One more kiss?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley happily complies with her request.

“Okay, now you have to go. I have to finish prepping for this meeting where I get to yell at Sean.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up later. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun with your mysterious errands.” Sherrie teases, and Bradley smirks back, knowing how much she would be freaking out if he knew what he would be doing while she professionally reamed out their least favorite colleague.

“Thanks, honey. Text me if you think of something.” Sherrie waves over her shoulder, already zoned back into her work.

Bradley doesn’t dare look at his buzzing phone until he’s safely on the elevator, pleased to see confirmation texts from their hotel and the airline. Would it be cheesy to quietly propose in the airport that was a catalyst in their relationship? Maybe, but he knew Sherrie would love it. He’s just hoping the TSA didn’t call out the ring that would be hiding in his carry-on.

#deltasupremacy I also want to give a special thanks to @sometimesanalice, who gave so much encouragement through the texts despite having no idea what I was writing - you're the best! tagged some friends and most those who interacted with the original announcement post for this fic all those months ago!

tagging: @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @theharddeck @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanssunnies @thesewordsareallihavetogive @princessphilly @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @kmc1989 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @misfitpeach @luckyladycreator2 @scarlettwidow19 @mini-bee-bee @midnightstarqueen @shamelessghostwagonwobbler

divider credit

#top gun maverick fic #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #elle writes

[firefly--bright]

punctured tires and sunsets.

jean kirstein x reader, modern a.u. , roadtrip headcanons!

requested by ; @jeanscremebrulee

a/n ; this kinda just turned into an unofficial fic :') i LOVED writing it tho!! thank you so much for the request :D also! there's alot of mentions of jeans music taste in this fic so here's a playlist I made with songs I think he listens to :) I know it's too late to say this but happy jean bday day to you guys <3 he's so find I won't him so bad

warnings ; none!

taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes .

main masterlist ✿ enter my taglist ! ✿

• obnoxious packer. he has ALL the snacks because he has always been used to packing alot of snacks because of...reasons (ahem, sasha) but he also packs alot in general. not in an anxious way, he just likes the volume, it makes him feel like he has everything he needs (he doesn't). he has the most useless shit in there but would 100% forget to pack his underwear.

• best believe he has a really amazing playlist lined up. he asked you to join a collab one a couple days before the trip just so you two could have premium music playing on the day of :)

• I have this headcanon/trope that none of his plans ever go right for him...like he plans stuff to the t but they always end up going awry from the midway mark and this is no exception. the plan was to reach his mother's houss by dinner time, so that the two of you + his mom could unwind with a glass of wine before going to bed after a hearty dinner that jean was sure she was planning to make for you both. while on the way to her place though, there's a really pretty beach that jean has been wanting to show you ever since the beginning, so the two of you would make a pitstop just around sunset time so that the weather wouldn't be too hot and you'd get to see the pretty sky with him, you'd spend a bit of time there, and after the sun sets, you'd resume driving. his mom's house wasn't that far from there, thankfully, so it would've taken an hour or less to reach.

• things actually are surprisingly going according to plan!! until the tire punctures and you two have to wait for help to arrive. thankfully it's only noon at this point, and jean thinks you'll still be able to make it to the beach and see the sunset after getting help. and you're also helping him maintain his cool by telling him that it's not as if you're on a time sensitive mission or anything; you two can take your time since you're just going to meet his mom for the long weekend

• it does help him quite a bit!! the road is extremely empty since it's not one that's taken often, people usually take the highway too much resulting in traffic, but this road is direct and jean discovered it his first year of college

• so you wait :) everytime jean calls the mechanic, he tells him there's been a "delay", and someone will be there shortly. meanwhile, you two share the sandwiches you had packed and decide to spend the time talking and playing some music. the sandwiches are balanced on the front of his car over a picnic blanket, along with some redbull and your prefered drink that he had packed for the way.

• he has a mouthful of sandwich when you're telling him a funny story about your childhood friends, and he chokes on the sandwich as he tries to not laugh. you have to pat his back in between laughs of your own so that he doesn't inhale the food and die.

• the playlist plays on a loop, the weather is surprisingly not too hot, with the occasional wind blowing in your face reminding you that nature isnt that cruel. the two of you add more songs and you have to surpress a smirk when you add like,,, 2000's pop songs. lady gaga, taylor Swift's older songs, Katy Perry, imagine dragons, all that

• jean, on the other hand, adds songs that he wants to slow dance with you to. everytime he tries to be romantic at home and pull you in for a dance, you two are reminded how cramped the room is, and you have to try not to step on his feet. the last time the two of you tried to dance together in your living room, he ended up stubbing his toe and falling on you because of it :') and then he tried to brush it off by saying that that was his plan from the beginning, and it resulted to a week's worth of teasing from you everytime he tried to walk near the same table

• so now that you have all of this empty space, he adds cute cheesy songs with the intention of pulling you in, disregarding your complaints of you not knowing how to dance.

• it's a nice mix of songs that make you want to twerk and/or reminisce the times the songs you added were popular, and slow dancing with giggles in between. both of you get to do what you want in the end, the playlist being put on shuffle.

• jean and you scream sing hot n cold by Katy Perry, shouting in eachother's faces as if you're an old married couple bickering, acting out the music video in some bits. and then after the song finishes, the next song just so happens to be more than a woman by the bee gees (ofcourse)

• let me set the scene : the two of you are holding your drinks in your hand, taking a sip after singing the song to eachother, laughing, he takes a sip of his redbull that he has to stop himself from wincing because of it being warm and not chilled. and then more than a woman comes on, and his eyes light up mid-sip as he turns to face you almost immediately. you do the same, you brows shooting up and a knowing look on your face.

• "you know the rules,* he says, placing the redbull on the car, taking your hand in his and pulling you in softly. "of I step on your toe, it-" " you won't. spin," he says, pulling apart from you a little so you had the space to do it. he tells you about how his mother used to play this song every Sunday while making pancakes for him on slow mornings, and she'd make a passing comment about how she'd have loved to dance to the song on her wedding day if she had the chance. jean told you that he had made a mental promise that he would dance with his future partner on his wedding day to the song, and it only added to his love for the song.

• you had to refrain yourself from kissing him senseless after he told you about it, instead opting for a hum with a wide and soft smile, resting your forehead on the crook of his shoulder.

• ANYWAY, the two of your spend the time like that, dancing and talking while the music plays in the background. the hours pass by fairly easily, munching on the snacks you had packed

• jean does get a little ansty near the 6 o clock mark. not only had the mechanic promised to be here by now, the time to reach the beach was running out :( he'd already called his mom and told her that they probably wouldnt make it in time for dinner, so somewhere deep down he kinda knew that you two wouldn't be able to catch the sunset anyway.

• noticing his disappointment, you spoke up after he called his mother. she understood, of course, told him it was fine and she'd wait up for you two anyway, with the same meal she had planned.

• "we still have the blankets we packed for the picnic. and the pillows, too." you say. jean sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "i know, I'm sorry, we had to pack that for no reas-" "no, I mean, we can pop open the trunk and set it up. the sun is going to set on this side," you say, pointing your thumb out, taking a step towards him and taking a hold of his hand, rubbing circles on the back of his palm. "we can still watch the sunset. i know its not what you wanted to show me, but it's alright, I don't mind. i got to spend time with you, anyway, and besides, we can try to catch it while coming back home." you tell him.

• his shoulder relax and his eyes soften immediately, pecking your lips and agreeing with you. and so it's settled; you two open the trunk and set up the blanket and pillows so you could sit comfortably, your phone playing the songs still, albeit softly. you pop open another energy drink for him and then one for yourself, he stretches his limbs before settling in with you.

• it's beautiful. the sun sets with your head on his shoulder and his pride is too inflated to admit that this was far prettier than watching the same scene at the beach, although he knows it's mostly because of you being there with him. he occasionally lays kisses on the crown of your head with you humming along to the songs.

• the mechanic arrives just as it starts getting dark, before too much panic settling in the both of you about the lack of light. he replaces the tire, jean pays (obviously he does), and you two continue driving. thankfully, it's not that bad, and despite the caffeine in your body, you doze home with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest.

• jean glances at you from time to time, and everytime a song he knows you'd like comes on, he gently kisses the back of your hand :)

• you two reach far later than expected, he has to wake you up softly, greeting you with a kiss. he doesn't let you touch any of the luggage, preferring to haul the bag himself. not that it's hard for him. after eating the meal his mother made, he promptly falls asleep on the couch as you and his mom talk with the promised glass of wine on the floor.

(his mother leaves to get the bottle for a refill, coming back to your eyes closed, your back against the couch, your face turned towards jean. she obviously takes a picture to put in her photo album.)

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein x reader #aot #jean kirstein x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #jean kirschtein #modern au

[faeriichaii]

hey I've read several of your fics and I really love your writing and I was wondering of you'd be in a mood for one thorin x reader request where thorin comes to visit bilbo in the shire some time after botfa and goes to the green dragon with him where he gets absolutely mesmerised with the reader who is a singer there?? it's heavily inspired by the song "killing me softly with her song" by Perry Como. could be any genre really. I've had this idea for so long but am absolutely terrible at writing

Symphony of Your Life ~ Thorin x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! I am happy to hear that you have enjoyed my stories so far :) I am so sorry that it took me so long to write it rip but now it is here and I hope you like it!! <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff (I think??) not proof read!!! ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.4k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ

Summary: Thorin went to visit his old friend Bilbo in the Shire once more, without expecting to be enchanted by a melodic voice that fills not just his ears but also his heart.

“I am grateful for your visit old friend.” Bilbo said, giving Thorins shoulder a pat before entering the Green Dragon Inn. “Well, it has been quite a while since we parted ways and you went back home to the shire.” The dwarven king followed after the hobbit into the filled place. People were drinking away, while telling the ones closest by about stories of their past. Others were eating away the food that was served on their plates. The inn was filled with a lively atmosphere, making Thorin relax slightly, the stress of the past months leaving his body.

Bilbo pulled out one of the wooden chairs and made himself comfortable, before looking around in search of the waitress. “So Thorin, tell me, what has been happening in Erebor after I left?” “Well, we began to slowly regain back the power Erebor once had.” Thorin sat opposite of the hobbit, before continuing with his story. “We are also making sure to not keep too much gold in the mine. Also, the trading between Mirkwood and Erebor is livelier than ever.” “Excuse me for the lil wait, but what can I get ya two fellows for the night?” A woman asked them, her eyes moving between the two men.

“I would just like to get a pint of meat for now.” The dwarven king said, his eyes moving from the waitress to the performer behind her. Soft tunes filled his ears, followed by a gentle voice telling an old tale from the past. Your mind was focused on the song you were playing and he could feel the emotions that you put into every syllable that passed your lips. Fingers gently tugging on the strings of your Lyre, making him wish to walk closer to hear even more of this beautiful melody.

“Thorin, are you alright?” Bilbo asked him, taking a sip of his drink. The king didn’t even notice that the waitress already served them their order. “Yes of course. I just am enjoying the song.” And with that he turned his attention back to you. You were walking off of the makeshift stage and danced through the small passage of people. A bright smile graced your lips as you heard a group of men hollering along with you, almost drowning your own voice with theirs. Continuing your way to every single corner and crevice of the inn, you made sure that everyone was enjoying themselves.

You loved performing. It was what made you happy, even when you were younger. Your older brother even taught you how to play the Lyre and you remember constantly joining him for his small performances in various different inns around your hometown. He was the sole reason for you now standing in the middle of a packed room, surrounded by various different people who were dancing and singing together with you. Strumming the last tune on your lyre you finished the song with a bow. Applause as well as praise was washing over you, as you looked around the crowd.

The bright faces of the people around you filling you with warmth. That was until you caught onto a pair of stale blue ones. His gentle smile was almost unnoticeable in the dark room, as you studied him a little more. You recognize him from one of the many tales that bards have sung in inns you have visited with your brother. Thorin Oakenshield. So, you rushed back onto the makeshift stage and strummed your Lyre.

“My dear guests, I really hope you enjoyed today’s performance as much as I did. This right now might sound like a farewell already, but I have one last performance before I will leave you for the night. It is a special song, most of you know.” People around you began to mumble, trying to guess which song you will play next. “As most of you already know, many songs played are retellings of famous stories of middle earth. And as you might know, me and my brother began to rewrite some of them as well. And as some of you might know, I am especially proud of the one song we wrote about the one and only Thorin Oakenshield.”

The crowd began to cheer, as you looked at the man in question. His eyes darkened at the mention of him and his life story being turned into a song. He would have expected anything, even the song of how the company and him got Erebor out of the clutches of the dragon. But his life story? How could a mere mortal even know half of his story?

You strung the first few melodies of the song. Your melancholy voice once more entrancing the people occupying the inn. Their eyes intently focused on you. But your own mind was only focused on the dwarven king right in front of him. You wanted to touch his soul with the words and retelling you once wrote together with your brother. You needed him to see that you knew his pain, even if you weren’t around him. You wanted him to know that his pain was shared and that he was not the only one who had to pass through tough times. You wanted him to know that you understood him.

Thorins heart warmed at the words that were dedicated to him. He didn’t expect you to completely put him under your spell and enchant him by the way you were telling his story. He expected things to be painful, but you made sure to put warmth and love, as well as care into every word. From the moment you mentioned the tragic death of his father, followed by the definition of his name, you thought about every little detail in his story. And it warmed his heart. You even mentioned how he conquered Erebor back for the dwarves and how he got rid of the dragon Smaug. Even the battle of the five armies was mentioned in your song. It almost felt like you have been around him since day one, watching every step he took on his journey. Almost as if you were a part of the company yourself.

After the last note passed from the Lyre and you sung the last melody of the song, you heard the applause of the people around you. Smiling brightly, you bowed once more, however your mind was still stuck onto the king who you just sung about. Letting your eyes travel across the people, you notice that the seat he had occupied during his stay in the inn was now empty. Slight pain squeezed your heart. You hated when people just left during your performances. Especially the ones the story is all about.

Descending from the small makeshift stage, you began to put away your Lyre into its case. Getting ready, to leave for the night you were stopped by a person in front of you. He was slightly shorter than you and you immediately recognized his blue eyes. “I hope I am not interrupting.” “Not at all my king.” You quickly said, straightening your posture. “I hope you liked the song. I wrote it together with my brother, as a small tribute to all the heroic things you have accomplished over the time.”

A smile graced the kings’ lips, which made you feel a little bit more at ease. “I was a little surprised, I didn’t expect to hear any song about me. Especially one that was so detailed.” You intently listened to every word that passed his lips, fingers tightly holding onto the case of your Lyre. “I did enjoy it though. It was very touching and it did make me think about some… things.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Would you perhaps consider writing more songs? I mean about the dwarven kings and maybe Erebor?”

Your eyes widened at this proposition, never expecting these words to pass Thorins lips. “My king I-“ “Just call me Thorin.” “Thorin I… don’t know what to say. This is a big honour for me and I would love to accept this offer, but why would you ask me of all the wonderful and talented people of middle earth to work on such an important project?” You asked him, still flabbergasted at the words of the king.

“Well, I do enjoy the sound of your voice and your song about my story touched my heart like none before. I also think that Erebor deserves a song of it’s own, so it would only be fitting, to ask you for this important job.” A bright smile graced your lips. “In that case, I would happily take up your offer and write the most beautiful symphony for Erebor.” Erebor, the city that once belonged to the beast called Smaug. Erebor, the city of hope and chances.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #thorn oakenshield x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #imagine #thorin #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield imagine #erebor #erebor imagine #the hobbit fanfic #thorin oakenshield x reader #lotr #thorin x you #the hobbit fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #The hobbit #Thorin x You #Thorin x Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x You #Thorin Oakenshield x Reader #Request #Thorin x human!reader

[onawhimsicot]

HELLO I wrote a supervillain!Tango + superhero!Jimmy AU fic for the @mcytblraufest​​ where Tango is essentially Dr. Doofenshmirtz....so Jimmy is lowkey Perry the Platypus lol

Shockingly, it's not a Crack AU, but I have been describing it to everyone as “not a Phineas and Ferb AU...but it’s not NOT a Phineas and Ferb AU?” LOL This is the longest thing I have ever written (the initial estimate was 11k..let’s just say it’s not that anymore) It's a fic full of silly fun times, so please check it out!

Please check out the amazing works of art that got made for my fic!!! @quilldesignz​ made this gorgeous piece and @arofundy​ made the most adorable game!!!!!

This was beta’d by @vesperaink (fun fact: the idea of the AU was initially created for her birthday, so it wouldn’t exist in more ways than one if not for her!)

As the supervillain Dr. Blaze, Tango has a penchant for oddly named "-ificators" and stylistic flair. His goals include trying to take over the city, shaming superheroes for their basic costume designs, and then sending said heroes home with better equipment that actually matches their aesthetic because clearly, if he wants a cool fight scene to happen, he's got to do everything around here himself.

For some reason, not many people think he’s evil. His one comfort though is that his nemesis, the superhero Canary, does and has made it his personal mission to bring down Dr. Blaze.

But when Canary suddenly goes missing, his superhero partner, Parrot, is convinced that Tango is at fault. Seeing as this is not true at all (kidnapping is so gauche), Tango is offended that someone is trying to steal his nemesis right from under his nose. If Tango wants to get his nemesis back, he'll have to work together with Parrot to find and rescue Canary from whatever danger he's got himself into this time.

After all, what's a supervillain without a nemesis?

#aufest 2023 #mcytblraufest23 #double life smp #life series smp #tangotek #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #grian #team ranchers #fanfic #mcyt #life smp #fic: ttei

[vixentheplanet]

not like the movies

“if it’s not like the movies, that’s how it should be.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

summary

"It's a crazy idea you were made perfectly, you'll see. just like the movies, that's how it will be. cinematic and dramatic. with the perfect ending."

Absolutely flawless in every way-as a daughter, a student, and a girlfriend. You live life guided by the choices your parents made and the fear of disappointment.

Up until she showed up, everything changed.

The Wakandan Princess arrives on the MIT campus as a new transfer student, and Shuri's presence throws all of your plans off course. For in your life, you make your own choice, love.

word count: 12k (i added more)

themes: perfectionist reader, university students, falling in love, arranged relationships/marriage, shuri noticed the little things and that’s everything

warning: sex, smoking, drinking, controlling parents

dedicated to my lyric @inmyheadimobsessed. this is her fic i just wrote it

hi ✨- i woke up with one mission and that was to write the part that i added at the end so i spent all day writing for the first time in forever… it was nice. anyways the response when i first posted this was overwhelming 🥺 i hope you all have/find fairytale love 💜 AND I ADDED MORE this was the beginning of part two i reworked.

happy speak now taylor’s version to all who celebrate she took track 21 out the vault for me but folklore has me in a chokehold rn

"No, not that one."

Shuri looks to the MIT junior who is showing her around, blinking to recover focus. “What?” Shuri inquires, her face confused.

Riri follows Shuri's gaze to the girl who caused her to come to a halt in the middle of the courtyard where the club fair was held. "I can see you staring. There are plenty of girls on campus, but not her." Riri repeats herself.

The Wakandan didn't understand the reaction. Was she someone Shuri should avoid? “Is she mean or something?”

"No, she's a friend of mine. Sweet girl. I'll introduce you, but she has a boyfriend, and they're getting engaged soon." Riri states it simply. Deeply committed and getting ready to marry.

Shuri suppressed her disappointment at the news. “Who said I was interested?” Shuri replies, trying to play off her first emotion to seeing arguably the most stunning woman she'd ever seen. A face like that was one worth remembering.

Riri gives her friend the side eye, sucking her teeth in response to Shuri's denial. “You stopped in the middle of the walkway,” Riri notes, pulling Shuri out of the way of a small group trying to bypass the pair. "And keep your bottom lip closed. You're drooling." Riri cracks a joke, tapping Shuri on the chin. Shuri frowns, yet her heart flutters at the prospect of speaking with the one who took her breath away.  

The club fair, one of MIT's most significant events, required you to show your face as president of the SGA. In designing programs, services, and policy decisions, the Student Government Association represented students' perspectives. The governing body distributes finances to authorized clubs and organizations and is responsible for defending the student body's rights. It was a lot of responsibility, but you'd spent your entire life overcoming obstacles to get to the top.

You were sitting at a table decorated in university colors, with a spread of pens, stickers, pamphlets, and lollipops, among other things, to draw attention. Numerous people had stopped by, and the email sign-up list was already two pages long. Maybe it was the way you smiled or the sound of your voice that pulled people to you, but connecting with others was in your nature. It's no surprise that you were well-known among your peers and instructors. 

You're finishing up a talk with a woman and her son, a first-year student, when you notice something out of the corner of your eye. Riri Williams. Meeting Riri was an unforeseen relationship; you needed assistance with vector calculus, and she came through. You respect your friendship with Riri; she wasn’t like those who clung to you for popularity and relevance. She was genuine, and it was also refreshing to have one aspect of your life that your parents didn't dominate. You were, nevertheless, perplexed by her appearance. Riri spent much of her free time in the lab experimenting and working on personal work. She told you as much when you tried to recruit her into the SGA when you were both freshmen a few years back. You smile as you wave the mother and son away before scolding, "Riri, get away from my table," swatting the hand and reaching for one of the lollipops. "You had two years to join and-"

"Relax, ma. I'm not here to bother you. I'm not really interested in these little club events." Riri motions to the person who has followed her. "All I'm doing is showing Shuri around." You notice the Wakandan royal standing close to your friend.

The level of awe is overwhelming. The Kingdom of Wakanda is a technologically advanced kingdom famed for its abundant resources of the material vibranium. You were aware of the royalty, including the Princess, Shuri's remarkable brilliant inventions. Thus her presence before you was unexpected.

“This is Y/N. University’s student government president, top student, presidents list, deans list-” Riri continues to itemize your successes, and you abruptly cut her off, unclear of her intentions.

There were a lot of public figures and famous children at MIT. Even so, you were taken aback to discover the young Princess traveled all the way from Wakanda to Cambridge, Massachusetts. She probably tried to fit in with the rest of the students by dressing like them in a faded Outkast tee shirt and light jeans, but her natural beauty stood out too much. Shuri's hair was arranged in tight coils, her enticing features the way her lips were full, a smile formed on her face flashing a flawless row of straight teeth.

When Shuri's eyes contact yours, your cheeks flush with warmth, and the air around you feels suffocating despite the fact that you're in the midst of the courtyard, with the breeze swinging the trees. "Just, Y/N," you find the words to say. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Udaku." You reach out your hand.

Riri frowns, "All this formal shit, just call her Shuri."

Having become accustomed to Riri's boldness, neither of you cares to take offense or give her any regard. Shuri clasps her hands in yours and shakes them firmly. “Yes, you can call me Shuri.”

Formal greeting exchanged, you can’t help but ask, "Wow, what drew you to MIT? Wakanda, I'm sure, has significantly superior educational institutions." 

"I wanted to study overseas, and MIT provides great mechanical, scientific, and engineering creative programs. Riri is also quite convincing." Shuri chuckled.

You look over at Riri and say, "I bet she is," She sticks out her tongue as you realize she's stolen candy from the table.

"That's fantastic, and I'm sure the entire university is thrilled to have you here. I am the President of The Student Government Association, as Riri stated. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any issues." You take up the light green pen you've been carrying, scribble down your cell phone number, and offer it to Shuri.

Ignoring the way your skin prickles as your fingers brush against it. Shuri carefully places the piece of paper with precise nine digits written in green in her pocket. Riri speaks again, "We're probably going to hang out at my apartment this weekend. Are you coming?"

You hesitate for a moment, considering everything you need to do. Today was Tuesday, which was your day in the library, so you'd have to make up for lost time over the week. You also had a date with your boyfriend this weekend. You wouldn't be able to. "I can't. I need to catch up on work and attend Travis' parents' gala this weekend."

Riri's eyes roll at the mention of his name. "The only person I know that has planned out every little detail of their entire life."

"Be quiet."

Overhearing the exchange, someone would think Riri was kidding or exaggerating, but she wasn't. Since your birth, the urge to satisfy your own wants has been overwhelmed by the dread of disappointing your parents. Besides, it could be worse. They wanted you to be influential, to shine amongst others. They had a say in everything: schooling, personal life, and romantic relationships... Everything was all right. "It means no time to lose contemplating decisions when you can take action," your mother always stated. 

"Whatever his name is, where is he?" Riri mumbled, her tone unpleasant. After learning more about your life, Riri immediately criticized your parents' and Travis' actions.

You and Travis have been dating since your junior year of high school. It wasn't a typical boy meets girl or meet-cute from a romance story. His parents had come home for dinner one day, which is how you met. You were forced to spend time together, left alone at various gatherings, and finally, as your parents intended, you got together. You've been together ever since.

His parents were wealthy and owned a multimillion-dollar software company, Gateway Software, with your father serving as a US senator and your mother as a lawyer. Their two bright stars were a match made in heaven. It's no surprise that you and Travis ended up at MIT together, with you studying computer engineering and him studying politics. 

You narrow your eyes at her. She knew his name. You just said it. “You know his name. Travis, Riri, how are you going to act once we're engaged?"

Marriage was the ultimate goal for you and Travis. Your mother had informed you since senior year of high school that we would be your husband. Both of your parents were heavily involved in your relationship. Travis' parents believe that a couple should be engaged between twelve and eighteen months. Your mother reminded you it’s every girl's dream to marry her high school sweetheart. You may be married soon after graduation if he proposes now. Getting engaged during your junior year of university was the ideal timing, and there is a good chance the proposal would happen soon. 

You weren’t unhappy. Your parents like him, your mom picked him, and that’s all that mattered.

Shuri clears her throat to renounce her presence, breaking up the mini arguments between you and Riri. “Sorry. Riri, we have that seminar in fifteen minutes.”

Riri’s eyebrows furrowed before straightening them out, “Uh, yeah. We’ll see you later, Y/N. Text me when you’re free.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Shuri,” you tell her. 

“You as well,” Shuri replied, and you waved them off, going back to your activities for the day. 

The next time you encounter Shuri, she’s entering the library with who you’re sure is a member of the Dora Milaje entering, following a few feet behind her. Her gaze scans the room before settling on you. You were sitting alone, Tuesdays are your least busy days, and you usually spend hours in the library getting comfy with water and a candy bag, balance. It was your day to catch up on work or prepare for any future assignments, and because most people understood this, they were less likely to bother you. You admit you overextend yourself, but taking a breather is good.

From how she scanned the room, it’s evident she was observing the area, and you motioned her over. Shuri's face brightens when she approaches you, pleased to see a familiar face, and you can't help but smile at her radiance. You feel bad for not checking in on her, but this week has been crazy with the Honor Society elections and a gala with Travis and his parents.

Shuri turns to the woman, who is not so subtly following her; they exchange a few words before the woman turns away, and Shuri comes over to you. "Hey, Shuri!"

"Hi, Y/N," she softened her smile.

You ask, "How are you liking things at MIT?" quickly, anticipating that she may walk away. It's been two weeks since you had your initial interaction with Riri. You're sure the Princess has taken a few classes and explored some of the campus's offerings.

Shuri pushes the backpack she's carrying onto her shoulder. "It's great, but I just have two-morning lessons today. I'm at a loss for what to do with the rest of my day. I went to look at some of the sites on campus and ended up here,” she explains. 

You're glad she came here by chance. Your initial meeting was brief, and you were both carried up in the wave of academia. You needed to figure out when you'd have time to devote to the new transfer. "I'm happy to see you. I apologize for not being more helpful."

Shuri, on the other hand, disagrees. "Please, no. Don't be worried; I'm sure you're busier than I am. Everything has been fine. Riri has been excellent, as have the Dean and other instructors. I'm doing good."

That made you happy to know she was settling in well. Without question, the school would go out of its way to make the most important person on campus feel welcome.

"That's amazing," you say, your voice drifting off as you consider your next words. Why were your thoughts slipping away from you? You then decide to share some of the snacks you brought with Shuri. “Oh, dum-dum?” You're watching Shuri's surprise, thinking she's being insulted, then noticing the candy in your hand.

The expression on her face makes you laugh so hard that the least appealing sound in the world escapes your mouth. You snort and hastily cover your mouth with your hands, your eyes wide in disbelief that you made such an obnoxious noise. The loudness of your amusement draws a few glances, and you mumble a modest apology. This time, it's Shuri's turn to laugh, and she does it quietly, aware of her surroundings.

"It's a lollipop," you explain as you pull the red package from your bookbag for Shuri to examine. In response to her admission that she is at a loss for the rest of the day, you make a suggestion. "On Tuesdays, you are welcome to join me. It is usually my study day. I'll be here all day. It's just me and my sweets." There was a random assortment of chocolate, lollipops, snack-size Skittles, and M&Ms.

Shuri raised an eyebrow at you, taking a seat. "That's a lot of candy," she observes, staring at your bag.

"People are wandering around here with nothing but Adderall and caffeine in their systems," you draw it closer to you. "I'm fine." 

Coffee, beloved by all, was disgusting to you, and you discovered sugar a good substitute in your refusal to drink it. You remember being a kid, and your mother wouldn't even allow you to look at candy. She wasn't here right now. "If you're concerned, my dentist says I have exceptional teeth and brush and floss twice daily."

"It'll make it easier for me to sleep at night." Shuri jokes. The spherical bracelet on Shuri’s wrist rings, and she gives you an apologetic pout. "I must go, but seeing you again was great." 

“You too,” you respond, disappointed eyes watching her stand. As quickly as she appeared, she was gone, rejoined by the person from earlier. You were left wanting more time with her, wanting to talk to her and discover more about her.

The opportunity will present itself the following week. You're sitting at an empty table in the corner, transferring your digital notes to paper. Rewriting them helped memorization. The sound of the chair pulling out draws your attention, and your pulse quickens as you see Shuri in front of you. "Well, hi," you said as you removed the lollipop from your mouth.

You notice her slipping into the open seat across from you. “Sorry, did I disturb you? You looked concentrated.”

You immediately shake your head. Her company could never be a disruption. “No, no. I was so absorbed that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

Shuri drops her bag down onto the chair next to hers and starts taking out various notebooks and a laptop. “What are you working on?” She wondered.

"Discrete Structures." The woman says, nodding. You liked the subject; discrete mathematics analyzes mathematical structures that are "discrete" rather than "continuous." It entailed a lot of work with integers, graphs, and logical assertions. "I use this pen since it's my favorite subject," you explain, holding out the pen you were now writing with, the colorful handwriting inked into the page.

Shuri reads through your notes; she is, of course, already versed with the material. She's probably taking courses that are way beyond your level of expertise. "Can I guess, computer engineering major?"

You exchange a look and a smile, both knowing she is correct. “Yes, how did you know?”

"The notions of discrete mathematics are directly applicable to computing concepts, easy guess." Her brilliance was admirable.

You blink at her, how she could take a simple answer and use it to learn more about you. "I believe," you say, pulling out the bag of candies you bought with you. "You should be rewarded for that." Shuri laughs at your childlike demeanor but nonetheless selects a mini bag of Skittles.

You get the same feelings the first few times you had Shuri near and alone as you did the first time you saw her. Butterflies and increased blood flow to the face. You figure it's because who wouldn't be nervous in the presence of one of the world's most brilliant minds? Your mind tries to justify that it was because Shuri was the royal of the world's most powerful nation. It was expected to feel nervous, fearful of doing or saying anything stupid that would make you look like a complete fool.

As the uncertainty fades, talking to Shuri becomes increasingly simpler. Her personality was the perfect blend of courteous, engaging, and dynamic—she was full of energy, and her mind was incredibly inventive. You were fascinated by her weekly research reports, and you soaked up all the information she presented to you. Her voice became your favorite sound, and you'd often get distracted while listening to her speak, but you'd never tell her. Shuri would probably become aware of how long she had been talking to you, and a world without her voice was not one you wished to inhabit.

Physical barriers were also being erased. You'd always sat across from each other, respectful of each other's personal space. Until one day, she goes from across the table to sit with you one day after you have a stressful day, your head is killing you, and you're very sure you've neglected essential nutrition. In the middle of the library, with your head on the table, Shuri’s there, one hand scrolling through her tablet. The other massaged your forehead and the base of your skull softly, relieving the pressure in your head. "You need to look after yourself," she says. I was well aware of the chaos that was your academic and personal routine. You mutter a quick response, immersed in the sensation of letting yourself be tended to.

Shuri no longer sat across from you after that day, instead choosing to remain beside you, bringing the two of you closer together. You could smell cardamom and iris close to her, warm and smokey. Soothing.

Outside the library, the three of you form a trio in that Riri and Shuri are usually together, and when you see Riri, you see Shuri. You're not bothered by it at all. It allows you to spend more time together. Every week you spent together, you discovered new aspects of her that you had overlooked the day before. The way in which she laughed. Her smirking expression. The amazing discoveries she brought with her every time. The intensity with which she stared at you when you spoke.  The way she looked after you on bad days. How her fingers brushed on your skin. 

You could have avoided it if you had spotted it sooner. You could have prevented yourself from falling. Cupid had shot his golden arrow, aimed squarely into your heart while you were only looking at Shuri, and he didn't miss.

You're in Riri's apartment on a Friday night. A few recognized faces are regulars at Riri's kickback sessions. Tonight was a rare time you could attend. Riri typically held them on Saturday, but you really wanted to come, and tomorrow was a definite no. Your parents were having a catered dinner at the estate for a few of your relatives who had flown in. Both you and Travis' families would be in attendance, and your mother had already chosen a dress. You could appear oblivious and pretend you didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow, but you knew in the back of your mind that everything would change.

To avoid raising suspicions about your whereabouts tonight, you told Travis you were going to a paint and sip before falling asleep as soon as you returned to your dorm. Unfortunately, you were a lightweight. You've never developed the tolerance to hold your alcohol, let alone the weed. Another thing you would only do if you were in Riri's presence and trusted her to watch after you. You were already gone.

You simply wanted one more night of normalcy with your friends before Travis took over your life. Juggling finishing your degree and wedding planning, if you’d even be allowed to do that.

You're lying on the floor with your head propped up on a pillow, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “Are you alive over there?” Riri asked, and you nodded. “Alright, because I don’t need Senator John trying to come after me.”

Others were getting started, but you were done for the night. You weren't paying attention to their discussion. Adding something would take thinking; you didn't want to do that right now. Until—

“Aye, Shuri, how’d it go with Stacey?” Stacey was someone you were acquainted with. You’d met a few times in a setting like this. She was always pleasant, but you had no idea Shuri was involved with her. Apparently, everyone else did.

You tilt your head to see Shuri, moving a bit too quickly for your current state since the room begins to spin, but everything stops when you find the one you've been looking for. Shuri’s seated on the couch, a joint between her lips before she hands it back to Danielle. Once the smoke clears, it's simply her, with her flawless skin and defined features. Getting consumed by her, you almost forget the conversation at hand. Almost. 

"Did you do it?" Joshua rises up and begins thrusting against the air, and your face turns disgusted. Everyone else seems to think it’s the funniest thing in the world breaking out in a joined laughter that has your ears ringing. 

Shuri's gaze is drawn to yours. You had no idea she was seeing someone. Does she not trust in you enough to tell you? Travis came up during your times together, not often, but she knew you were in a relationship, and you’d thought you were close enough. Shuri breaks contact first, turning to the guy who made the vulgar actions. “Cut it out,” Shuri laughs awkwardly. That doesn't sound like the one you're used to when it's just the two of you.

Riri chimes in, “That means she did.”

Upon hearing that, more people are begging for details. Having to listen to Shuri sit here and describe the night she had with Stacey makes you feel sick to your stomach. "Yes, you've got to tell us something because her ass is-"

You start speaking before you notice your slurred and loose words. "I believe that what you do in your private life should be kept private." Hoping to put an end to this discussion. You felt a fire in your chest at the thought of Shuri with anybody else; the feeling was absurd, and you had no idea why it hurt so much.

Someone sucks their teeth in response to your objection. “Of course, Y/N doesn’t like talking about sex.”

"That's because she's never done anything memorable. I mean, you've known Travis since high school, right?" The attention has turned from Shuri to you, and you're not sure which is worse—having so many comments flung at you, being the target of so many remarks.

Someone then says it. "Aren’t you getting engaged soon?" As the months passed, the thing that had been towering over you turned from exciting to terrifying. You could never tell anyone about the flaw in your rose-colored glasses. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it would go away. 

“I don’t disclose my private affairs. Yes, I've known Travis since high school, and we're getting married. I don't see what the issue is." Your voice slightly rises. You weren't normally this defensive. You were used to the taunting and jokes. But you were happy with your life, so nothing could bother you. It was the path ahead. It was-

When Danielle opens her mouth, the crowd becomes silent, allowing everyone to hear her. "All I'm saying is going the rest of your life without an orgasm is crazy," she snarks.

Your intellect is too drunk to reply, but your blood is racing. Something snaps within you. In your altered state, you're on your feet and out the door as quickly as possible, wanting to be away from this debate anywhere but here.

You can hear Riri yelling at Danielle, "Watch how you talk to her," a few people call after you hoping you'll return. You wouldn't do it.

You are filled with various emotions, including hurt, hatred, and envy. You've heard a lot of jokes and comments about your sex, or lack thereof. You're used to people thinking you and Travis getting engaged was hasty, despite the fact that you've been together since high school. 

For the remainder of your life, you're going to be his wife. He'll be your husband, and your life will be exactly as your parents planned all those years ago—an ideal partnership with assets and reciprocal benefits on both sides.

Your feet led you to the park across the street; you weren't familiar with the area, but you and Riri went there. A fountain was in the center, and you stood on the flat seating area, wandering about in a circle. That's why life felt like a never-ending circle of frustration. A series of instructions to leap and jump. Nothing belonged to you. You did not choose your school, your activities, ballet, piano, violin, debate, soccer... Your parents have meticulously planned your life.

You could hear someone approaching you with a call to your name amid your panic. "Riri, leave me alone-"

It was Shuri. “How did you know I was here?”

“I left after you. You move fast when you’re intoxicated.” She chased you. You tried not to let your pulse rate increase as a result of your emotions. The butterflies in your stomach that usually flew when the Princess was nearby, ready to take flight.  "I think you should get down," Shuri suggests, possibly worried about you falling into the fountain. 

"No," you groan, reminded of the cause for all of this—stupid Stacey. "Why didn't you tell me you went out with Stacey?" you demand. Shuri is surprised by your search for conflict and your willingness to be so straightforward.

Her face twisted in confusion. “It’s not that important,” she defends.

You freeze, standing still in front of her, looking down on her from your elevated vantage point. "We're friends and meant to tell each other stuff. You told everyone else except me," you complain.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that talking to you would be futile while you were like this. "I hooked up with Stacey and will see her again tomorrow. Is this what you're looking for?" Her tone reflects her irritation.

Tomorrow. She would be with Stacey tomorrow, and you would receive a ring with the promise of forever. "It appears that tomorrow will be a big day for everyone," you remarked as you resumed your laps around the fountain.

"What are you talking about—come on, Y/N, get down."

You're standing on the fountain's edge, and Shuri stares at you with intense, focused eyes. "No, you don't get it. He's going to propose tomorrow." You watch as Shuri's jaw clenches.

"Mrs. Travis Moore," you mumble in the dark of night, the taste in your mouth bitter. "They think he's going to be the future president of the United States, fucking moron can't even get to his classes on time," you try to lighten the weight of your remarks. You laugh to keep the tears at bay.

Once the panic subsides, you recognize its significance and analyze your thoughts. The pain was for the years that were taken away from you. Your entire life has been mapped out for years without a concrete decision. Anger because the illusion was collapsing. Your gaze shifts to Shuri, the woman you'd become close to during the months of bonding over candy and your common passion for research. Jealous of those whose lips got to taste hers and those who spent their time coaxing noises from her that you would never hear. Jealous that someone would be wearing a ring on their finger to match hers, a symbol of eternity and dedication, it wouldn't be you. The odds are infinitely against it being you.

You want to hide from everything.

You jump down and start walking with no idea where you are going. “Where are you going?” Shuri shouts, jogging up beside you. “I don’t know.” Your car wasn’t here; not like you would be driving anyways. You didn’t want to go back to campus with the possibility of running into Travis and him knowing you lied. 

You stopped at the entrance gate, turning around, “I don’t know. I don’t want to go back there. Just leave me here,” you tell her. 

Shuri shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to leave you outside by yourself.”

“Well, I’m not leaving,” you respond stubbornly. 

Shuri's expression is one you've seen before when she's stuck on a problem and begins thinking hard about what to do next. "Would you come to my place?" She asked.

Everything inside of you is screaming yes. Having a night to yourself with Shuri seems like a gift from the cosmos, granting you a small taste of happiness. You nod your head, “But I don’t want to walk to the car,” you plead. Shuri's face softened as she bowed slightly to allow you to climb on her back. You lay your head on her shoulder, inhaling the soothing aroma. Clinging to Shuri's back as she heads towards her car in the direction she chased you from. 

Shuri's apartment is close to the MIT campus. The moonlight flows through the blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing Shuri's life. It was your first visit, and you spent time absorbing the small details the moon permitted. The bookshelf has reached its capacity, and books have spilled onto the floor. Photos of her family, including her late father and brother. She spoke of them often. Artwork resembled the small sketches she'd make with your colored pens—everything she treasures in one place. "Come," Shuri said quietly, for the residence was dark without the moonlight.

Shuri takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. “This is the guest bedroom. You can sleep in here.” She opens the door, and it’s a simple room with a queen-sized bed. “I’ll be back. Do you need anything? Water?”

No, you motion with your head. "I'm okay," you said, your voice low and sleepy. Shuri's steps are hesitant as she exits the room as if she's worried about leaving you alone, and you nearly beg her not to. The only chance you had to spend with her was tonight, so you made sure to take advantage of every minute of it.

You lie down on the bed and wait, and the minutes seem to drag on forever. Shuri enters the room wearing sweatpants and the Outkast tee shirt she wore the first time you met her.

“Dum-dum?” She asks, handing up a lollipop. Pineapple with coconut. It's your favorite. As you recall your early interactions, you can't help but laugh fondly—the beginning of your story.

You take it from her, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. You're not studying, but you might be able to make an exception. Shuri stands at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do, and the atmosphere takes on an uneasy tone. "What are you doing standing there?" There she was, and you really wanted to be beside her.

“You’re a little under the influence, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

You consider your options. "You could rub my head? Please?” A self-interested request, "I'll help me fall asleep,” but you'd never get this chance again. That she does, she was opting to be here with you rather than sleeping in her own bed. When she lies down, she offers her arms and invites you to cuddle into her side. It's an excellent fit.

With Shuri so close, you can't help but be attentive, wanting to remember this beautiful moment forever. You let your imagination wander into fantasies where you're hers, and she's yours. You exist in unison. Instead of this lifetime, you're left to wonder what could have been. The silence is soothing, and you sink into Shuri's touch as her fingers strive to relieve the tension in your head. When you let go of everything, the only thing that remains is her: the way she smells, the way her hands touch your skin, and the life her words instill in you.

You are the one who breaks the stillness. “Have you ever wanted something you can’t have?” You have no idea what the question was about. To make your own choices. To be liberated from your parents. Her.

Shuri's fingers in your hair pause. "I know the feeling all too well recently," Shuri confesses.

You don’t respond, afraid you’ll say too much, but if she feels your heart beating, she doesn’t mention anything. The sound of her breathing lulls you to sleep. 

You were leaving too soon in the morning, but you knew Travis or your mother would come looking for you to prepare for tonight. Shuri watches you with concern. The two of you barely spoke a few words since you’d woken up together. 

"Y/N," she says, her voice strained. "You know, you don't have to do this." At long last, she was able to voice what had been going on in her head.

"Please, Shuri. I've heard it from everyone else but don't want to hear it from you." Your heart couldn't take it since you knew if she told you, you'd stay.

"I believe last night was the first time you were honest with yourself in the months I've known you." Her stare is deadly serious.

"I wasn't thinking clearly. Commitment is intimidating, but I'm alright."

"It shouldn't feel like that," Shuri says, interrupting your explanations. "You should not be afraid to spend the rest of your life with the person you care about."

"And you don't love him," she continues firmly as if that would be enough to convince you, but you were aware that you didn't love Travis. You never claimed to.

"I'm content and think I can learn to love him." This was your last argument since it was the clearest justification available. A life without Travis was an unstable situation, and you couldn't risk destroying everything if you had no plan in place.

It is still insufficient for Shuri. "You'd think after all these years of being together, you'd have learned by now."

She lets out a bitter chuckle, “You’re going to marry someone who, at the very least, doesn’t even know your favorite color. You have no idea how silly that sounds." It was an offhand comment, but it cut deep

The debate is hopeless for you. She’s prepared to counteract everything you have to say. "Can we not have this talk right now? It's finished." With Travis's future political aspirations in mind, this arrangement is more secure, guarantees financial stability for your father's campaigns, and strengthens social relations. That was the strategy. There's no possibility you'd ever intend to undo your parents' hard work.

Shuri sighs, “It’s hard to accept this when I know you deserve better.” Her words wounded you. A message alerts you that your Uber return to class awaits you outside.

You hate leaving now, knowing that your actions have affected Shuri, witnessing her friend settle for a life that isn't hers. If she only knew how difficult it is for you to depart from the security of the one love you've ever known. You're grateful she found a place in your life; otherwise, you'd never have felt this way. You reach closer and kiss her cheek, a selfish deed for your own satisfaction. “Thank you.” You whisper.

This was the conclusion of your story since you had to deny your feelings for Shuri until they faded to darkness. Hanging on to hope can only lead to heartbreak. She wasn't yours, and she never would be. 

Dinner with your parents and Travis' family is similar, except that there are a few more close relatives from your respective families there. You spent the morning with your mother at the salon, your hair in a low twisted bun. "A photographer is coming tonight. I need you to be perfect." A makeup artist arrives at your house to prepare you for the night. Your mother had chosen a pale pink modest dress for this occasion weeks in advance, the tag digging into your neck.

Everyone at the table is staring at you, a knowing expression on their faces, and you can't stop the knots in your gut from twisting. The conversation is light, with everyone chatting about themselves:

"I purchased that new BMW 2023."

"Gateway Software stock jumped this week!"

"I went golfing with the Mccoys!"

They said it in a way that made it appear as though they weren't secretly attempting to outdo each other.

"Oh, Y/N," your aunt says in an attempt to catch your attention. "I was contemplating selling my Cape Cod beach home. I believe that would be an excellent area for you and Travis to settle down after you graduate."

Travis' mother expresses her displeasure, saying, "Don't you think I'll be hazardous for the children so close to water?"

Your mother is quick to interject, “Y/N will be an amazing mother. She will not let my grandchildren drown."

As if she understands what a wonderful mother looks like. As if any of the ladies in this room knew what it meant to be a mother, to care for and love their children. You remain silent and smile politely at your mother, defending your unborn children. You were confident that if you opened your mouth, you'd dry-heave. Discussions about children, homes, and marriage. A future with someone you didn't care for—a life you did not desire. 

Later, when you're all gathered about continuing to exchange small conversation, holding a glass of three thousand dollar champagne you can't force yourself to drink, it happens—that moment you've been dreading.

A fork clinks against a champagne glass, capturing the room's attention. Travis smiles big, standing center stage and ready to play out the scene you’ve prepared for. "I believe we all know why we're here,” He starts, cutting his gaze to you. You’re sure those surrounding you are buying into it, the couple head over heels and ready to say ‘I do.’ “My dear Y/N, I've been the luckiest man in the world since I met you in high school. Y/N, She’s beautiful uh- smart, she… she’s beautiful and a great person.” Here he was proposing to the love of his life, with impersonal and flawed lines. He didn’t rehearse. 

The man before you continues his monologue, “So, will you make me the happiest man in the world,” Travis says, setting his glass down and bending to one knee. Putting in front of you a diamond whose price tag would put a neighborhood's worth of groceries to shame. “Will you marry me?”

You knew your line was a ‘yes’ because, unlike Travis, you had practiced it. Each day until a few months ago, when uncertainty crept in, and your heart ached for more, no longer content with being without passion. Your first clench, and you close your eyes for a second to imagine being anywhere but here, too. You calm the growing panic. In the sanctuary of your imagination, you and Shuri are in her arms as she hugs you and makes you feel so cherished and loved, a sensation you've never felt before her, and the prospect of never being able to feel that way again makes you want to cry.

When you open your eyes, the vision shatters by the reality before you. This was it, and you peered down at Travis on one knee. You'd say yes, he'd slide the ring on your finger, and that was the end of it. You carry a diamond around campus. You have an enviable love story; unlike so many other girls who spend their entire lives looking for love, you found yours at an early age and made it work through all of life's challenges and hardships. A love story that most people only fantasize about. You only had to say yes, so you were astonished even by yourself when the word "No" rolled off your tongue.

A chorus of gasps sounded out over the room. His mom says, "dear god," and his dad responds, "What did she say?"

Travis is mortified and unsure about how to proceed. This improvisation was not in the script, and you couldn't move on to the next page without the answer everyone in the room had expected. "I'm sorry if you didn't hear me. I said will you marry me?”

"No," you say again. The more you looked down at him, the more anxious you became. “Travis, get up, get up!”

His father steps in, “Are you two having relationship issues? We can pay for a counselor-“

A typical response, throw money at all your problems. “No! I'm not going to marry him. I don't love him!" Further disbelief can be heard across the gathering. As Travis stands, you take a step back.

Your mother intervenes, attempting to save your relationship with Travis. The breakup of your partnership would be detrimental to her connection to his parents. "Y/N, don't be ridiculous. How can you not love him when you've known him since you were young?" she argued.

You turn your head, pointing an accusatory finger, "Because you told us to!" Your mother blinks, her eyes bulging because you have never raised your voice at her in your entire life. You had never dared to disobey her before.

You're going to marry someone who doesn't even know your favorite color. Shuri's voice resonated in your head, and you almost laughed out loud because she was correct. He doesn't know anything about you. Throughout all your years together, you almost ended up in a loveless marriage contract out of desperation to keep your parents pleased.

You return your gaze to Travis and ask, "What's my favorite color?" Curious as to what he would answer. 

In the presence of all your closest relatives, the friendly guy persona he'd been striving to preserve cracks. He fixed a venomous gaze at you, his brow furrowed. "What?" he muttered.

"Can you tell me what my favorite color is?" You slowly repeat.

"Y/N. I  had no idea I would have to take a pop quiz to propose," he spits.

"After all these years, you still don't know my favorite color." You must get out of here and away from him. Away from these people. Back to the place where you felt secure.

When you turn away, Travis grabs your wrist. “Is there someone else?” and the silence is deafening. The whole room is waiting for the reply.

You yank your arm out from his grasp. "I don't know," you say honestly. But the uncertainty of Shuri was incomparable to the life here before you. "But I know I'm not going to marry you."

It's like déjà vu as you rush out of the room and into your car, but you're going towards something new instead of running away from your issues. A cacophony of voices called your name, but you paid them no attention. When you finally got the keys in the ignition, it was with trembling hands, and you looked up in alarm to see your mother and Travis approaching the vehicle. Her face was filled with terror, as if she was scared you had finally found your voice. The strength to say no, the flawless plan she put out for your life, was ruined and would remain so because you would never consider marrying Travis again. You didn't care about him. You didn't want a relationship like that with someone who didn't love you, and he didn't.

It was as though your emotions led, and your head followed as you drove through local streets until you arrived at Shuri's condo. You hurried out of the car, desperate to see her. Let her know that you recognize her truthfulness and that you do deserve and seek something better. Tell her how she invaded your senses and the first time you ever felt valued was in her company.

After trying the buzzer to no avail, you break. The defeat you feel causes you to sink into the hard cement steps and cry until your whole body shakes. The tears continue to fall as you take your hair out of the awful tight bun, ruining your nicely made-up face by wiping your eyes. You're not sure how long you've been there, letting the night chill nip at your skin.

A voice called out. “Y/N?” You couldn't tell who it was until you looked up and saw Stacey holding Shuri's hand. You can't resist the frown that forms on your face as you watch her with someone else, but you know you must be quite the sight with your unkempt hair, trembling body, and smudged makeup. You feel silly now; you forgot Shuri had been out with her. You stand up fast, an excuse on your tongue, but Shuri is quick. "Y/N- Oh my," Shuri rushes to you, dropping Stacey's hand. She's by your side in an instant, fabric wrapped around your shoulder. You hadn't even noticed her remove her jacket as she wrapped you up. “Why are you here? How long have you been out here.”

"I'm sorry, Stacey, but- another time?" She offers, knowing that their night is coming to an end.

Stacey looks between you two. You can sense she's disappointed, despite her efforts to be compassionate. "I understand. Will you text me later?"

Shuri says, "Sure, definitely," ignoring the woman she intended to spend the night with and instead focusing on you. You see the girl give a final look, her expression unreadable, as she walks away, while Shuri is intent on unlocking the door and getting you inside.

Shuri leads you into the kitchen and places you on one of the stools at the center island. "How come you didn't call me?" That's the first thing she says. If your name flashed on the screen, would she have answered the phone in the middle of the date?

"I left my phone at my parent's house." You respond. Shuri grabs a paper towel and passes it to you. You accept it, dabbing your eyes and watching the white material stain with your makeup. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You mumble half-heartedly. You're sorry for bothering her, but you're relieved she's not with Stacey.

Her arms are crossed as she stands with her back to the counter, the island between you two. "I'm not interested in that," Shuri says. "What if I hadn't come home tonight? You'd be out there by yourself." She expresses her displeasure, upset by your careless behavior.

You pout. "I wasn't thinking at all. I needed to see you," you confess.

Shuri sighs as she uncrosses her arms. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You put your head in your hands as you recount the night's events, afraid you'll cry again. "You were right. Riri, you, stupid Danielle. Everyone was correct, and I was too dumb to notice."

“He proposed.” You say it directly because you both knew it would happen. That wasn’t the answer she was seeking. She was curious as to why you were here. “Travis proposed, and I refused. I left after yelling at my mother in front of both of our families. I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Your words are mixed together and coming out quickly.

Except for you.

Shuri's body shifts out of your line of sight as she approaches you. A hand wraps around your wrist and pulls it away from your face. "You're not stupid," she says, her eyes sharp. “Don't say anything like that." Then her arms draw you in, and you feel at ease in her embrace. Every fall will be okay if she's there to catch you.

After a moment of holding you there in silence, Shuri speaks, still concerned about your well-being. “I’m going to get something warmer for you to change into,” Shuri says into your skin. You reluctantly allow her to pull away, and she's gone searching for clothes for you, and you're relieved at the prospect of getting this dress off.

Your gaze wanders about the kitchen, looking for something to focus on. The area is spacious, well-equipped, and thoughtfully planned—the appliances, counter, and storage requirements are all carefully arranged. The neatness of it makes you wonder if Shuri knows how to cook. There's a coffee machine on the counter, and you wince at the K-cup assortment.

That’s when you see it—a calendar. Most people would dismiss it as an uninteresting piece of paper that they forget to keep track of constantly, but Shuri's is true to her essence. She kept everything organized and arranged to keep track of the courses and projects she was working on. When you see your name on her schedule, you go over it again and again.

"Library with Y/N." is written in light green every Tuesday. You get to your feet to examine it more closely, your fingers running down the lines of Shuri's handwriting. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you go back a few months. A list of your favorite candies is on the reminders list's side.

You can't take your sight away from the paper when you hear Shuri's footsteps approaching. "Shuri," you begin, and the woman hums, answering your call of her name. “What’s my favorite color?”

Shuri responds immediately. "Green," she answers, effortlessly answering a basic question that the man requesting your hand in marriage couldn't.

In all the conversations you’ve shared, you never told her that. "How did you figure that out?"

“It’s the pen color you use to do your favorite subject. It's the first color gummy bear you reach for, and you always keep them separate. It was the color of your nails when you refused to remove the polish since it was so gorgeous even after it was chipped. It's also the color of the claw clip you sometimes use to hold your hair up." She talks and talks, presenting you with all the information she’s gathered just from observing you over your time spent together, committing every little thing about you to memory.

Her confession causes your lips to part, leaving you speechless for a split second. “You recognized all that?”

Shuri nods before proceeding. "I know you usually grab for the lollipops while reading, and once you finish a complicated question, you eat a piece of chocolate as if it were a reward." Shuri can't stop now that she's started. "I'm aware of all of this because I see you, and you're the first girl ever to steal my breath away." Her monologue does not have a script. Her statements are authentic and heartfelt.

You find you were not the first victim of Cupid's arrow, as he had struck Shuri, who had fallen in love with you before even knowing your name. Mirror hearts with identical puncture marks only beat for each other.

You return a truth of your own as compensation for her bravery. "When he proposed before I responded, I closed my eyes, and it was just you and me. How happy I am with you, the way you make me feel. To feel things I've never felt before because of you is terrifying, but the prospect of never feeling them again is even more so."  Nothing could stop the fire from spreading. Shuri's sincerity was the lighter fluid to the sparks that ignited inside your body when you met her.

It all made sense as your world unraveled the second her eyes met hers. The initial encounter enchanted you, and everything following that shattered everything you thought you understood about love. 

"I had no idea, Y/N- After all this time-" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, clearly overwhelmed by your confession. You know, when Riri informed me you were dating someone, it hit me hard. I tried not to like you, but the more time we spent together — do you realize how easy you made it to fall for you?"

The delicate expression on her features charms your heart. "Do you realize how effortless it was to fall for you?" you say softly. "I was afraid of the unknown, but this is what I want."

She's in your space; all you can do is lose yourself in her eyes. Everything in her heart is mirrored in her eyes when she looks at you. "Repeat it," she urges.

And you do it because you're no longer afraid. “This is what I want. I want you.” You were meant to be with her. Here and now.

Her hands come up to cup your face, fingertips brushing against the heated cheeks, and your heartbeat quickens. "Shuri," you inhale, staring up through your lashes. It feels lovely to be held. Shuri's heart races against yours; you know the sensation is equal. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. Shuri leans forward till your forehead is pressed together as you nod yes. Her lips are a deep, scarlet, beautiful, and inviting shade of red.

This is like a scene straight out of a movie. Only it's actually happening to you.

Against what the circumstances presented to you, the two of you had been waiting for this moment since you met. In anticipation, you’re chasing each other. Fingertips touching and lips brushing against each other’s, breathing catching as they become too close. Ignoring her request, you bend in and tenderly press your lips together in an innocent peck. When you separate, you can't stop the giddy feeling that comes over you, and you let out a short giggle.

Shuri smiles at you before leaning in this time, and there, where no one exists around you, Shuri kisses you breathlessly. Your lips move slowly and purposefully together. Neither of you makes an effort to distance yourself, making up for the lost time. All the time you've wasted wishing you could have been together. You don't know if we've been kissing for minutes or hours, but you can't stop yourself. You keep kissing Shuri, and kissing her, and kissing her.

You've never longed to be kissed so badly for so long.

You can feel her muscles tensing. "Y/N," Shuri exhales as she pulls away. She leans against your shoulder, her breathing heavy.

You pull back so you can gaze into her eyes. The shift in the atmosphere made you anxious that she was regretful about kissing you. "What's the matter?"

Shuri massaged the worry from your features using the pads of her thumb. "There is nothing wrong. I'm worried that my impulses are becoming too selfish," she reveals.

This causes a burst of energy to run through your spine. Shuri was considerate and patient with you, willing to repress her desire to ensure your comfort. You could only guess what was going through her mind. "What exactly do you want?" You'd give her everything she wanted, and you're confident that whatever was on her mind, you wanted it just as much.

Shuri gently grasps your chin and turns your head to peer into those dark-brown, hooded eyes. "Tell me," you insist, curious about what scenarios she conjured up in her imagination. “You. I want to witness you fall apart and listen to how pretty you sound when you feel good.” The intensity of your desire for her increases as you surge forward, pressing your lips together once more.

“Please,” you moan into her lips. Her fingers locate the zipper holding your dress up and slide it down. The fabric falls down your shoulders as it loosens over your body.

Shuri gently lifts you in her arms and carefully carries you down to her bedroom. The distinction between sex and making love becomes clear to you that night. Every physical act you two perform is a statement of your passion for each other. 

Naked and tangled around each other, Shuri invaded all five of your senses. The taste of her kisses remained on your tongue as you waited for her to emerge from beneath the covers. The fragrance of cardamom, iris, violet, and amber is warm and smokey. The scent you’ve long associated with Shuri is now all you can smell as you toss your head from side to side on the pillow.

Shuri moves at a leisurely pace, indulging you in sensations you've not experienced before her. Clinging to the hand, Shuri has extended upwards towards you while the other hand maintains your thighs apart. Her sounds are wet and obscene as her mouth works between your folds. You're torn between running away from her and bringing yourself down on the face of her precise tongue's ability to dismantle you. Part of your mind tells you that it can't be any better than this as your breath leaves you and your body spasms.

She comes up once she's had enough of the taste of you covering her lips, leaving you sweaty and panting. After grabbing the lubricant, Shuri generously applies it to the strap. One hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling your leg up on her hip to give her a better angle. Her other hand lines the tip with your opening. "So pretty for me,” Shuri murmurs as she presses forward, entering slowly. That is just one of the numerous compliments she has given you since you began. You're overflowing with emotion as Shuri reaches deep inside of you, and the feeling is one of stretching and warmth. 

"Please let me know if it's too much," She breathes as she thrusts her hips, careful not to go too hard for you.

You respond with "Okay," but you don’t care if it is because you find yourself wanting it. Shuri begins to move into you, setting a slow but beautiful pace that has you moaning, and your body shakes. The waves of pleasure have you flinging your head back, a gasp escaping your parted lips, and all the air exiting your lungs. Colors dance behind your eyelids as your fingers fist at the sheets in an attempt to grasp something. Feelings of ecstasy flood your entire body, all the way from your head to your toes. You've never experienced a physical sensation quite like this one, in which you feel utterly attached and entirely overwhelmed.

You press your eyes tight and twist the sheets harder in your hold as Shuri slowly, blissfully, moves inside you. "Open your eyes for me," she pleaded, breath coming out short. 

You follow her orders, looking up at her. “You’re making me feel so good,” you find the words to tell her. 

As she rotates her hips and moans, your hand grips her shoulder for support, letting the sounds of your pleasure spill out. “My sweet girl, making those beautiful sounds for me. Taking it so well.” She mummers, watching you tremble underneath her. 

A palm slides over one of your hands, Shuri tangling your fingers together as she thrusts into you. You grip her fingers tightly, relying on Shuri to keep you connected to her. “Shuri-” you choke out. She eases up, sinking her hips further into yours, wanting you to savor every sensation. Shuri holds your arms above your head with one hand and brushes your hair away from your face with the other. 

"Show me how good I'm making you feel." Shuri gives the order. She kisses your lips briefly before shifting away, and you can't stop moaning, shaking in Shuri's grasp as your impending climax consumes you. You gasp as your lips open against Shuri's, and your muscles tense. Shuri continues to drive into you, extending the moment out for you.

It might be one of the best things you’ve ever felt in your life.

Throughout the night, Shuri takes excellent pleasure in extinguishing the never-ending desire in the pit of your stomach.

Perhaps being in someone's home, observing the most private elements of their existence while they slept in the next room, is intrusive. You're seated on the plush carpet, knees to the side. The night sky was aglow with the bright city lights, leaving enough lighting for you to admire the picture frames decorating the mantle closely. You found sleep easily beside Shuri, but it didn’t last long. Your thoughts jolted you awake. You slipped on your panties, and the first thing you could find, which ironically was Shuri’s shirt, quietly slipped out of the bedroom. The couch was the first place you sat down as your leg jumped with anxiety. 

There were so many uncertainties that you would need to face—particularly your relationships with your parents and Travis. Your mother would undoubtedly try to salvage whatever remained of the connection with him, but nothing remained. You weren’t going back. 

It’s hard not to think of the moments your parents' interference has tainted. Operating in a state of fantasy, obsessed with the thought of having everlasting love with your “high school sweetheart.” Your first kiss, first date, prom. When you look into the eyes of the man you thought you loved, you realize nothing was ever clear. Everything you'd been fed had distorted your mind into a joyful and optimistic state that failed to recognize negative events, resulting in an unrealistic vision of life. Cracks in the memories drained them from the rose color they’d been drowned in. 

Your perspective on love is a product of the upbringing you had. You were growing up among what you believed were adoring marriages that turned out to be arranged pairings for selfish reasons. These families are infested with harmful ideals that have been passed down over generations. Their notion of love was longevity and control, how two individuals could generate strength in a world founded on power and greed. 

You now see love as a collection of emotions and actions defined by closeness, passion, and commitment. All of which you lacked in your relationship with Travis. All of which your surrounding relationships were unable to develop. People's choices are their own, but you should never let them affect your decisions or life. You were grateful that you wouldn't have to start from a place of hurt and mistrust as you reinterpreted what love and relationships meant to you. Shuri. 

Shuri, who feels as strongly about you as you do her. It's nice to have someone who makes you feel special and noticed. You are not the politician's daughter, the ideal girlfriend, or an academic scholar in her eyes. The corners of your lips twitch to be worthy enough to be valued in those magnificent, wondrous eyes. Her smiling face draws your attention to one of the bottom shelves of the bookshelf. You slide onto the floor and sit comfortably in front of the shelves. Careful fingers graze against the cool glass, preserving the original integrity of the photograph. 

She is stunning. You remember the first day you met, and you never imagined you'd be here in a shirt that wasn't yours, reflecting on your choices after all these months. Everything in your being, from the cells to the elements, tells you you made the right decision choosing Shuri. When she's near, the visible flesh on your skin rises. When she speaks, your heartbeat quickens. The lips that know how hers taste. The oxygen you lose when she gets too close. You are filled with emotions; you feel so much, but the words can wait. Labeling anything could be too soon and put both of you under undue stress. The only thing that matters right now is you and Shuri.  

As your anxieties subside, you look closer at the image, recognizing the late King's T'Challa and T'Chaka. Shuri frequently discusses her brother and father. She admitted to you it was hard in the beginning being avoidant of her grief, and memorializing loved ones who have passed on allows you to sustain connections—celebrating their life and sharing their love, happiness, and long-lasting memories. There's something so lovely about their smiles that shine through the photo that you can't help but move the corners of your lips. 

The bedroom door swings open, and anxious footsteps enter. "Y/N," Shuri's nearly panicked calling into the darkness leaves a feeling of remorse in your stomach. You hadn't considered how waking up alone after such an intimate night together would appear to her. Your face flushes as the flashbacks run through your mind. 

“My sweet girl, making those beautiful sounds for me. Taking it so well.” 

Your face sinks into your hands as if the recollections of the passion you two made together will fade. When your name is called again, you realize, in your temporary anguish, that you never responded to the woman looking for you. "I'm right here," you say softly. 

Shuri appears around the corner, and her distorted features relax for a few seconds before concern is written across her expression. "Sorry, I was looking at your pictures," you admit, moving your hand away from the captured scene. 

"There's no need for an apology, my dear. I was just nervous when I didn’t see you,” she admits. You frowned. Who knows what would have gone through your mind if you were in Shuri's vulnerable position. Your heart wasn't the only one in danger. Shuri's investment was identical to yours. 

It must have hurt her to see you depart yesterday morning, knowing you were going to come back engaged. You're curious if she's envisioned a life for the two of you and can’t imagine the pain of looking into the eyes of someone you wished to have a future with but knew it wasn't possible.

"Are you feeling okay?" Shuri questions. The air in the distance is timid, and the other woman takes her time to assess the situation before approaching. Your lips part to convince her that you're fine, but no words come out, and the room fills with a sigh. 

You settle for an explanation for your absence from the mattress you were tangled in only hours before. “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to disturb your rest,” you say sincerely. If you stayed in bed, you'd be rustling the sheets, tossing, and turning.

"You could never disturb me," Shuri says with a slight grin.

"Even when I show up unannounced at your house and force you to end your date early?" Normally, humor relieves tension, but Shuri is unimpressed, most likely because of the indirect reference to Stacey. "It was a joke," you clarify. 

Shuri squats down to look you in the eyes as she states, "It wasn't amusing, but even then. You could never bother me." Her words are simple but comforting. 

Another thought occurred to you. "Did you expect me to come back?"

Shuri takes a seat next to you on the carpet, sensing you'll be here for a while. Her gaze goes to the kitchen, where you'd expressed those feelings you'd both battled to hide. “Truthfully, no. Still, I had hope." Her honesty is so heartbreaking that it makes you pause for a moment. There are so many things to wish for in this lifetime, and she decided on a wish for you. Shuri had a glimmer of hope for something that appeared hopeless.

"Did you think of us?" you wondered. 

The questions continue to pour in, but Shuri is ready to respond without hesitation. “It’s impossible not to see you and let my mind wander to what it would be like if you were mine. Even when it appeared to be impossible." 

Her words pierce your soul. She had been waiting for you. You have no control over falling in love. Nobody can prepare for the moment, but it's worth every risk when someone breathes fresh life into you and makes you feel alive again. Shuri's intense gaze assures you that the chance of harm is nonexistent. Your heart is safe. 

You crawl over to Shuri, who’s prepared to accept you into her space. "Thank you for holding out hope for both of us," you say face to face. "I believe the universe has heard you." People talk about the romantic notion that there is someone for everyone, and Shuri is that someone for you. The bond between you and Shuri is something you have faith in. 

"I'm just thankful that my dreams are becoming a reality." Shuri leans in to kiss your nose, and you can't stop the childlike giggle that escapes. "Mine, too," you say, contentment washing over you.  

Silence follows as you and Shuri share a mutual gaze. You are captivated by the beautiful features of the woman. She probably thinks the same thing as you; I’m falling in love. 

The longer you stare, the heavier your eyes grow. A yawn escapes you unintentionally, and Shuri chuckles. "I think you should go back to sleep." Now that the thoughts plaguing your mind from sleep dispersed in the wake of your lover coming to put them to rest, it was time for you to get back in bed.

Shuri extends her hand to yours after standing, and you accept it. As you feel the weight of her palm in yours, an overpowering feeling sweeps over you. The warmth of your love glows in the dark, the quiet of the night. You’re in disbelief that you almost gave this up, but part of you realizes fate wouldn’t have allowed the two of you to part. Shuri came into your life at the precise moment before you began serving a sentence of eternal misery. If the circumstances had their way, you weren’t supposed to be here.

Fate intervened just as you were about to surrender to the cards dealt to you. Regardless of place, time, or circumstance, two human beings linked by the red thread are destined lovers. This mystical chain may extend and tangle, but it can never break. The idea that you were both was made perfect for each other makes your chest swell.

The traffic light outside briefly flashed a red glare against the window. Shuri's hand draws your attention to her. "Y/N, what's wrong?" 

“Huh?” Your eyes mirrored the depth of your heart's commitment and adoration, and you didn't even realize it. 

Shuri's eyes are firmly fixed on you. “You’re tearing up, my love,” her thumbs quickly caress the fallen droplets from your cheeks.

The lack of sleep lessens the control you have over yourself. Instead of responding immediately, you collapse into Shuri's arms, and a wave of calm washes over you. You are encased in the only embrace that has ever shown you peace and security. "I'm fine, and it's only. You make me very happy.”

Lips gently press on your temple. Shuri wastes no time responding, “I'm just as happy, if not happier, because of you.” The sentiment fills you with pride. All you want is to make Shuri happy. To love her, and you can now, here, and forever. 

You pick up your head to surge forward, connecting your lips, and Shuri melts into your touch. It’s still new for both of you, being able to act on emotions you’ve kept hidden, never suppressed. Even as time passes, you don’t think you’ll get used to the effects Shuri holds over you. No matter how long you live this lifetime together, you'll never stop falling for the one who had wished for your heart.

#cai fics #re upload #I ADDED MORE #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri fic #shuri fluff #shuri fanfiction #shuri udaku #shuri of wakanda #shuri x you #shuri smut #black panther shuri #mcu shuri #princess shuri #shuri black panther #i think i got them all #i never know what to tag #Spotify

[lovelytsunoda]

shut up and put your money where your mouth is // oscar piastri

summary: the reserve drivers have a little mischief pool going, keeping themselves occupied on weekends where they have nothing better to do. until nico hulkenberg pushes y/n and oscar a little too far and makes them confront how they feel about each other

pairing: oscar piastri x female alfa romeo! reader

warnings: alcohol is involved, drinking games are played (spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven) and a massive prank war is waged on every driver in the paddock, implied smut scene at the end, but no smut is written. sexual innuendos because jack doohan is a little shit, y/n is too cool for oscar (she's also really mean to fernando but in a funny way . . . sorry nando) mentions of a crash ( everybody was fine, y/n is just still feeling the emotional effects )

author's note: so for a while now i've been wanting to make a story or a fic that focuses on the reserve drivers because i feel like they all sort of get forgotten, so this fic is dedicated to the reserves and those who hide behind the scenes : )

"alright, jamie and logan got the extra dye from alex, liam and dennis are going to distract the old man." y/n started eagerly, making grabby hands towards logan sargeant, who gave her a strange look before passing over the bottle of red hair dye. "oscar, do you and jack have a way of getting into his driver's room?"

the reserve drivers were standing outside the alpine hospitality building, mischeif in their eyes as a plan started brewing. the reserve and development drivers were only performatively employed through driver's academies. they had no real reason to be there on race weekends. very rarely were they actually needed.

it was natural for them to get bored, expected, even. because who wanted to stand around and look at data all day when it didn't even affect them? who wanted to take a ten hour flight to another continent just to sit around and do nothing all race weekend except look good for the team?

and that's when nico hulkenberg had made his proposal. every season, it was a new game. always disruptive to the regular drivers, always chaotic and more than once it got guenther steiner swearing at the lot of them. two teams, a season full of dares and challenges.

and may the best pranksters win.

jack doohan nodded. "it was shockingly easy to get his keys. all you've gotta do is find a way to swap out his shampoo for the dye. and then when he goes to take a shower after free practice," jack clapped his hands together. "his hair will be red before the old codger knows what hit him."

their team was the young guns, the under twenty-fives. there were more of them than anybody else, but they were competing against guys who had been there way longer: nico hulkenberg, antonio giovinazzi, robert schwartzman, nyck de vries, stoffel vandoorne and pietro fittipaldi

"i'll come inside with you. since the contract thing started, people in alpine hospitality have been giving me a wide berth." oscar piastri shrugged his shoulders, hands in the front pockets of his black chinos, making his alpine polo ride up, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach.

y/n sucked in a barely audible breath, hoping that nobody around noticed.

she wasn't sure when she developed a crush on the aussie f2 champion, but she knew it wouldn't lead her anywhere good. never mix business and pleasure, so she had always been told.

no, it was better to leave oscar to his own devices. to pretend she felt nothing towards him.

"you don't have to." she said gently, pulling a denim jacket over her alfa romeo polo. with any luck, she was little-known enough that the hospitality staff wouldn't recognize her and just let her pass through.

worst comes to worst, she could always pretend she was coming to say hi to abbi pulling, who had recently signed to the alpine young driver's programme.

"you don't even know where his driver's room is."

she hated it when oscar was right. "fine." she pouted, hooking her fingers in her belt loops. "but let's make it quick, before daddy szafnauer gets the wrong idea."

jack snorted, and logan shook his head, wishing he could leave the conversation.

"excuse me, what?" the american frowned, raising his eyebrows. "there's something wrong with you."

"what?" she laughed, sipping from her plastic starbucks cup.

god, oscar would never tire of that sound, the visual of y/n throwing her head back, smile splitting her features as her hair spilled down her back.

"he's like, the fourth most fuckable team principal. don't even get me started on daddy toto."

"there's a scale?" jack looked scandalized. "i am but a mere child, too innocent for this!"

oscar snorted. "according to the country of australia, you're street legal, doohan."

"here's the scale: toto, jost, andreas, otmar, christian, mattia, mike, guenther, fred, franz. i'd fuck ted kravitz, too. don't underestimate daddy kravitz."

somehow, at the revelation that y/n wanted to fuck toto wolff, oscar's ego ached. if her type was six foot five austrian men old enough to be her father twice over, what chance did he have?

'"i know way too much about you." logan shook his head, beginning to walk backwards. "good luck fucking fernando over- bad word choice given that last conversation, let me know how it goes."'

y/n laughed, playfully punching oscar in the arm. "come on, alpine's most wanted. i've got an old man's day to ruin and a self-centered german to upstage."

y/n tossed the bottle in the air, catching it with a grin as she brushed past oscar and headed into the hospitality suite.

oscar watched her go with wide, bright eyes, attempting to casually hide the boner forming in his khaki's as his eyes zeroed in on the alfa romeo driver's sashaying backside, made extra prominent by her tight black jeans.

"you coming, problem child?" she shouted, a bright smile on her face as she stuck her head out of the glass door.

"coming in just a second!"

"i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"""i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"

"fuck off!" oscar whined, pushing jack's hands away as he sauntered up the hospitality steps. "i'm doing it for my commitment to the bit."

he wished that he had sounded like he believed it, but everybody knew that he didn't.

everybody knew that he did it because he was head over heels for y/n y/l/n.

he ran to catch up to her, directing the testing driver in the direction of fernando alonso's diver's room. fernando was never the original target of that prix weekend's scheme. in fact, y/n was never supposed to be the person who planned it. this was supposed to be frederik vesti's weekend to plan and execute the scheme.

but after an unfortunate incident in fp1 resulted in fernando cutting y/n off and sending her into the wall, cutting her coveted rookie driving session short, a session she had fought freddie vasseur tooth and nail to steal away from theo pourchaire, plans had changed and she'd swapped weekends with fred.

drawing the keys out of her jacket pocket and offloading her frappucino on the australian standing next to her, she opened the unmarked door to fernando's room, rolling her eyes at the massive spanish flag hanging on the wall.

"where's the fucker's shampoo? he doesn't get to ruin my one young driver session and get away with it." she started pacing, hands reaching to the back of her head to tap on the brim of the backwards baseball cap she was wearing. "changing his hair color is fucking mercy compared to what i should be doing to him."

"shower's are that way." oscar nodded, cocking his head towards a royal blue hallway. "how many points do you think this is going to get us with the hulk? you have to admit, that stunt he pulled on crofty and brundle last week was kind of legendary."

y/n rolled her eyes, heading towards fernando's shower and wishing she had brought gloves. seriously, what do old men get up to when they shower? she didn't want to find out. she could get a goddamn staph infection just from stepping foot in the damn thing.

"all nico did was fuck with the microphones. they fixed it in less than half an hour. all that happened was making sure that fp1 was narrated by darth vader." she shook her head, wincing as she reached into fernando's shower, wishing she could have gotten somebody else to do it. "nico shouldn't even be doing the scoring if he's participating. why can't kubica do it? he's a neutral party."

but there wasn't enough money in the world to pay one of the other reserves to stand in fernando alonso's shower.

she uncapped the bottle of men's head and shoulders, overturning it in the bathroom sink as she turned on the faucet, watching the thick, cream colored liquid bubble and fizz as it went down the drain.

"robert made it damn clear that he wants nothing to do with this." oscar laughed, trying to decipher the label on the side of the starbucks cup, curious to see what sweet concoction was in the cup, especially knowing that she didn't like to drink coffee.

"understandable. i think robert's kind of done with everybody's bullshit. mostly theo's, though. frankly, so am i. truth be told, i think vasseur wants me gone." she frowned, twisting open the bottle of red dye that logan had given her and upending it over the plastic bottle. "i don't think that he's a fan of the fact that i'm never going to drive competitively."

"that's a bullshit reason for him to fire you."

"that's what i said!" y/n complained, throwing her hands in the air as she waited for the thick red dye to drain. she wasn't even sure if her plan was going to work: fernando's hair was dark, and it was arguable that the color might not even show unless the spaniard bleached it first. "i've never wanted to drive competitively, but after what happened in magny-cours, i'll never be able to compete again."

she had never wanted the fame, the glory, the champagne and the trophies. all she'd ever wanted to do was drive. she'd had a mediocrely successful season with the w series in 2019, followed up by half a season in formula three before a three-car crash had broken four bones in her foot.

she could still drive, and she loved her job working in testing and development, but she could tell that frederic vasseur was tiring of prepping and training a driver that was never going to make it to f1. a driver that would never compete in anything ever again. the crash had stolen all of her self-confidence, and there was nothing she could do other than pack all of her dignity in a box and walk out of the prema garage, terrified to ever race again, for fear of another incident occurring. her partnership with the ferrari driver's academy had fallen through a year later, and she counted her blessings every day that alfa romeo had rescued her from the wreckage of what she had seen her life becoming.

shaking her head as she realized that the dye bottle was empty, she rinsed it out before stowing the evidence in her jacket pocket and putting the cap back on the shampoo bottle before thrusting it back into fernando's shower.

"come on, piastri." she grinned, taking her drink back from the academy driver. "let's get out of here. all we can do now is wait for the old man to have a shower, and then nico is going to have to give in and declare us the winners."

they got their answer three hours later.

y/n was walking through the paddock with jamie chadwick and jessica hawkins, twirling her paddock pass between her fingers as she made small talk with the girls she considered to be her best friends.

"so, y/n . . . " jess started, the pom pom on her signature beanie hat bouncing as the brit walked. "are you finally going to tell oscar?"

"nope." she answered. too fast, always too fast when it came to feelings. too quick to catch them, even quicker to deny them. especially when they concerned the boy at the center of every f1 news story in the last two weeks, ever since he had announced he would not be signing with alpine, but in fact would be ousting daniel ricciardo from mclaren. "never. no feelings whatsoever."

"aw, jess, look at her face go all red." jamie laughed, nudging y/n's side. "she's definitley in love with piastri."

"um, go fuck yourselves. both of you." she laughed, trying to hide how flustered she was. she had been waiting all day for fernando to come running out of hospitality, cussing her out in spanish at the top of his lungs. "the way my life is going, i might not even be around the paddock next year. i've actually started looking into testing for formula e, maybe i can become a reserve driver or something there. mclaren will need people."

"vasseur finally sick of seeing your face in his garage?" jess replied sadly. "i'm sorry, love. freddie just has a stick up his ass and someone needs to yank it out. with force."

the girls laughed, arms around shoulder's as they kept walking down the paddock. y/n froze, reaching for jess and jamie's arms, trying to get them to slow down before they walked past the alpine suite. jack and oscar were sitting on the patio with liam and dennis, waiting to see the fruits of their labour.

"who did this?! which pendejo is responsible!?"

"jesus fucking christ." jess groaned. "please tell me that you didn't."

on y/n's other side, jamie extended her hand for a low high five. "so that's what the dye was for." she laughed as the front door to alpine hospitality swung open, a furious fernando alonso standing on the front steps.

his hair was still soaking wet, but it was clear to everybody in a five mile radius that his hair was now a very vivid cherry red. the pure look of rage on the spaniard's face should have been enough to send a shockwave of terror through her body.

instead, it just made her feel alive.

at the patio table, the four boys had collapsed in laughter. jack had his head buried in his hands while liam had his phone out to videotape the entire encounter.

"did you cabrons do this?" fernando roared. "as if what you've done to the sanctity of this team wasn't enough!"

"oscar, run!" she could hear dennis hauger shout through his fit of laughter.

oscar stayed put, laughing to himself as he looked over at y/n.

and when he winked at her, she thought her legs would buckle, the butterflies spreading through her stomach so rapidly that she thought she might be sick.

she had been past the point of denying her feelings to herself a long long time ago, and now the aussie had a permanent place in her dreams, in both horny and wholesome ways. her fingers had become quite acquainted with the motions they robotically performed whenever oscar piastri appeared in her late-night fantasies.

"oi fernando!" she shouted, throwing her middle finger up in the air, ignoring all the patrons and crew members who were gawking at the alpine driver. "that's for sending me into the barriers, you old cunt!"

when fernando turned back to her, jessica grabbed her hand, and in a fit of laughter the three girls took off down the paddock to the aston martin garage.

nico hulkenberg had decided to award ten points for that stunt.

he had given himself eight points for the darth vader microphone trick.

the war would continue for weeks upon weeks, only stopping for the summer break. jessica and y/n had teamed up with liam to cover lawrence stroll's desk in plastic wrap, rendering it unusable and relishing in watching the multi-millionaire throw a fit when he couldn't figure out how to get the plastic wrap off his ikea desk. ( worth eight points. )

robert schwartzman and antonio giovinazzi had countered that by gluing clown wigs to the headphones used by the ferrari pit wall. to this day, mattia still didn't know who was responsible. ( worth five points. ferrari were already enough of a joke as is. )

and suddenly they were in sao paolo, and the season was almost over. begrudgingly, hulkenberg had relented and crowned the younger group the winners.

y/n had hefted the large lego trophy with a proud look on her face, standing in the center of oscar piastri's king-sized hotel bed while the other reserve drivers clapped for her from the floor.

they had gathered together for one last hurrah, a night without pranks or fighting or superiority complexes. a night to celebrate: logan, nyck, oscar and nico were all being promoted.

and y/n had news of her own that she planned to announce after the season ended in abu dhabi: she would be leaving f1 to go to formula e and act as the reserve and development driver for avalanche andretti now that she knew for certain that vasseur would not be renewing her alfa contract for another year.

jamie would be leaving for indy nxt, and liam for japanese super formula. it was truly their last night all together, their last night of things being the way that they used to be.

"i think we need to end this season properly." pietro insisted, reaching for the bottle of ferrari trento that was in the middle of the circle where they were all sitting. "it's our last season together, so forgive me for growing attached to you motherfuckers."

with news of nico returning to grid with his new place at haas, he had been quick to hand the reins of the prank war to his young apprentice. pietro fittipaldi intended to take his job very seriously, and was already dividing the teams for the 2023 season.

"psst, i'll still be around." y/n said, hopping down from the bed. "someone's gotta keep piastri in check. and who else is going to remind you all just how fuckable your bosses are."

"ugh, never say those words again, i beg you!" antonio begged. "if i ever hear you talk about 'daddy mattia' again, i swear i will put a laxative in your drink, just like i did to steiner."

the laxative stunt had won giovinazzi eight points, but at what cost? guenther had been pissed off for the rest of the weekend, and there had been a smell lingering around the haas motorhome despite f1's best efforts at cleaning it up.

y/n just laughed, holding out her plastic solo cup. "hit me, fittipaldi. i want as much champagne as can fit in this glass."

pietro shook his head, but abided the testing driver's request, filling the solo cup up to the line.

"what do you say that we make this night a little more interesting?" jack doohan proposed, looking over at oscar and y/n out of the corner of his eye.

the two young adults were sitting directly next to each other, their knees touching through their jeans. and then jack suddenly had the best worst idea ever.

he turned to liam, lowering his voice and whispering something into the kiwi's ear before they both burst out into sly grins.

"oi, fitti, how much champagne is left in that bottle?"

pietro frowned, looking at the green glass bottle in his hands. "like, a third. why?"

"just drink it so we can use the bottle." liam suggested, offering up his own solo cup. "pour the rest of it in here."

"nope." robert schwartzman cut in. "liam, i refuse to deal with your drunk ass again. that can be somebody else's problem today."

as pietro passed off the bottle, nico met liam's shit eating grin. still chuckling to himself, the red bull junior nodded in the direction of oscar and y/n, who were signing the nineties song blasting from pietro's phone in a very tipsy, our of key way. but somehow, they were perfectly in tune with each other, even if their rendition of 'hot in herre' didn't match up with one nelly was singing on the other end of the phone speaker.

nico's eyes widened as he watched jack set up the bottle in the middle of the circle.

they were going to play spin the bottle, but with the number of men outweighing the number of women, it was a set up for chaos. but even more than that, it was supposed to be a way to get two very specific lovesick idiots to finally admit how they felt about each other.

"who's ready for spin the bottle?!" liam shouted, being met with cheers from some of the other guys. guys who just wanted to see something really stupid that they could use as blackmail material.

but nobody missed how oscar and y/n instinctually moved away from each other as pietro shut the music off, a dusting pink on their cheeks as y/n moved to put jamie in between her and oscar.

"aren't we a little old for this?" stoffel vandoorne sighed. "we are grown ass adults."

liam shrugged. "you don't have to play if you don't want to."

"and let you jackasses have all the fun?"

"i say trophy bearer over there goes first." jack proposed, pointing at y/n.

nobody missed the way that her eyes flicked to oscar, nerves settling in her stomach. it was fine, she told herself. there was no way that the bottle would land on oscar. and next year, she'd be in a different paddock and her heart could cool down from all the ways that the aussie used to make it race.

taking a deep breath, she leaned forward to spin the empty trento bottle, nails scraping against the label. she closed her eyes, sitting back on her heels and crossing her fingers behind her back that god would be on her side.

hoping and praying that it wouldn't land on oscar.

and because her eyes were still closed, she didn't have a chance to watch jack nudge his foot into the circle, stilling the bottle's movements so that it landed on oscar piastri.

oscar's face flushed pink as he leaned back against the bed. next to him, liam and jack cheered, as did nico from the other side of the circle.

"oscar and y/n!" the german cheered. "now where's the closet? we're playing full seven minutes in heaven, out here we'll set the timer. you kids have fun." nico winked

trying not to make eye contact with each other, oscar and y/n got to their feet, slowly walking over to the closet like they had been sentenced to the gallows.

"ladies first." oscar coughed out, sliding the mirrored door open and allowing y/n to slip inside the confined space. the future mclaren driver followed her inside.

they stood less than two feet apart, breaths heavy.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to." oscar said quietly. "nico is a jackass. we can just stand here and talk for seven minutes."

"oscar," she cut him off. "i need to tell you something." the time for being a coward was over. she wasn't going to be here next year. if oscar didn't feel the same, at least she wouldn't have to deal with seeing his stupid, pretty face every day. "i'm not coming back next year. vasseur told me that management is changing, and that the new guy isn't likely to keep me around if i'm never going to drive competitively again. i'm going to andretti, oscar. i'm going to be a formula e reserve in 2023."

"what? what do you mean you went to andretti?" oscar's voice was faint as he stared at her, his eyes slowly moving from her plump, pink lips, down to her tiny black garage top, the lace of her bralette peeking through the deep-cut collar, her cleavage on perfect display.

if he was ever going to do something with his feelings, now would be the time.

but y/n didn't even give him the chance, pressing up on her toes to smash her lips to oscar's, his hands flying to her waist. it was a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as oscar pushed her back against the wall.

sometimes, a kiss could say more than words.

she moaned as oscar's hands squeezed her thighs through her army green flare pants, the aussie taking that moment to gently slip his tongue in between her lips. her fingers carded at his hair, gently pulling a small handful, eliciting a growl from the driver's throat before he changed his area of focus, hungrily kissing her neck.

y/n gasped at the feeling, a sensation made double as oscar's cold hands touched her skin, teasing the bottom of her shirt, running over her toned stomach.

"oscar." she whined, feeling a familiar ache in between her thighs. in the back her mind, she wondered if they were nearing the end of their seven minutes.

or if nico had even bothered to count.

they got their answer when a harsh knock on the closet door startled oscar so much that he tripped on his own feet, falling to the carpeted floor.

"time's up, kiddos!" stoffel shouted from the other side. "make yourselves decent and then get your asses back out here."

getting decent would be difficult: her hair was a mess, a hickey already forming on the side of her neck, and there was definitely a bulge in oscar's jeans that wasn't there when the duo entered the closet.

"fuck." she mumbled, resting her head against the wall. "what do we do?"

"it's my room." oscar reminded. "i can just kick them out, and we can finish what we started."

"good plan." y/n agreed, throwing the closet door open.

the pair stumbled out, and oscar found himself tugging the tails of his button up shirt over his crotch, hoping that nobody could tell how massively turned on he was.

"everybody out!" he shouted. "this night has been incredible, but i'm very tired and have things to do in the morning." he lied blatantly, dragging dennis and jack to their feet.

logan gave him a very confused look. "the fuck? tomorrow is race day? they don't need any of us."

"logan." jamie said gently "read the room."

it took the american a minute as the rest of the reserve drivers groaned, abandoning their night of champagne and debauchery. or at least, relocating it from oscar's room. but when the pieces clicked in his mind, his eyes went wide. "what the fuck? you're kicking us out so you can fuck, aren't you?"

"ew!" robert shouted. "god, you guys are terrible!"

jack and liam just winked at each other as they slipped into the hallway, thankful that their plan had worked, and that the two would finally stop being idiots around each other.

"yes, now get the fuck out unless you want to watch." y/n concluded, kicking theo pourchaire in the back to try and get him to stand up.

"wait, live porn is an option? i'll hide in the closet, i swear you won't even know that i'm there!" pietro shouted, half joking and half not as oscar pushed him through the doorframe.

"out!" oscar shouted again, holding the door open as all of the drivers walked out in single file.

"call us in the morning and tell us all about it, love." jessica winked at y/n as she and jamie followed stoffel out.

"oh of course." y/n agreed. "see you all in the morning. or not!" she shouted down the hallway before oscar closed and locked the door.

they stood toe to toe, soft smiles on their faces.

"hi, lover." she said softly, eyes on his lips.

"hi." he said, just as soft as he pressed his lips to hers. "no, where were we?"

"well, i think you were about to do this." she hummed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

oscar's eyes darkened at the sight. the lacy black bralette was even better now that he could see all of it, the halter strap sweeping up around the back of neck. as she spun around, he could see the thin strap draping low down on her back.

"god, you're beautiful." he rasped.

she wasn't prepared for how deep his voice was going to get, but it thrilled her to no end, knowing that she'd had that effect on oscar this entire time.

"you know what makes it even better?" she lowered her voice, pretending to be distracted as she started to undo the buttons on oscar's shirt. "i'm wearing a matching thong."

"bed, now." oscar insisted, sweeping her off her feet.

it was going to be a looong night.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mclaren formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #lovelytsunodas katy perry series

[jeysmullet]

may i request a part two for the Hook dating Jeff Hardy’s daughter fic, if you feel like writing a second part? it was amazing!!

Atleast they know.

Hook X Female Hardy!Reader

Warnings:fluff, dads being hilarious.

Y/n Hardy.

I swiped the key card against the pad before pushing the handle down and opening the door.

"You staying here tonight?"

I questioned my boyfriend while walking towards the bed.

"Yeah. Darius said he was taking his girlfriend back to our room, so i really don't have a choice."

I heard him laugh.

I shook my head laughing before crouching down to my suitcase and grabbing some shorts and a shirt.

I walked over to the bathroom and cut on the light.

"Y/n."

I heard Tyler say from the bed.

"Hmm?"

I hummed in response to let him know i was listening.

"Do you think we should tell our dads or let them figure it out?"

"I will find it personally hilarious if they find out on their own."

"Yeah, you're right."

I heard him say before seeing him strip down to his boxers in the corner of my eye.

When i was finishing changing and finished washing my face, i left the bathroom turning off the light before walking over to the bed.

I pulled the covers back before getting into bed, and pulling the covers up.

"You nervous for tomorrow?"

I asked Tyler as he laid his head on my chest.

Tomorrow is when Tyler defends the FTW Championship against Jack Perry.

Ever since he found out he's been so nervous about it. He feels like if he loses, he'll let everyone down. Which we all know isn't true.

"Yeah, I mean what if i lose? Will my dad be disappointed? I feel like i'll disappoint everyone even you."

He spoke softly wrapping his arms around my waist, pushing his head deeper onto my chest.

"Ty, you could never disappoint me. You could never disappoint your dad, if you could hear all of the stuff he brags about with you. He's gonna be proud of you no matter what. I'll be proud of you no matter what. I promise you."

I spoke running my hand through his hair, moving it out of his face when it falls in it.

"I love you Y/n."

I heard the boy speak before hearing soft snores.

"I love you too, Ty Ty."

I whispered before leaning over to cut the light off, before letting sleep takeover.

TIME SKIP

Y/n Hardy.

Location: Arena.

I was sat in catering talking to Skye Blue and Renee.

"I'm excited for tonight's matches, they all seem good."

Skye spoke sipping out of a bottle of water.

"Yeah, i'm ready for the FTW Match."

Renee agreed with the girl.

I saw Skye turn and look at me out of the corner of my eye, so i looked up from my phone towards her.

"Speaking of FTW, why was Jeff and Taz so happy yesterday? Did you finally tell them you're dating a certain champion?"

Skye wiggles her eyebrows at me with a smile on her face.

"No, not yet. They know we did go on a date yesterday tho."

I shrugged placing my phone on the table.

"They knew?"

Renee asked shocked.

"Yep, Taz thinks he finally got me to agree to a date with Tyler."

Skye and Renee shook their heads laughing at what they were just told.

The three of us continued talking until i got a text message.

"Can you come to my locker room rq?"

The notification read.

"Hold on y'all, i'll be right back."

I told the girls getting up.

I heard them say okay before i started walking towards the locker rooms.

I was walking until i got to the door that read, "Hook".

I knocked on the door before opening it.

"what's wrong?"

I ask him as soon as i saw his face.

"I'm nervous, i'm scared."

"Baby, i told you it's gonna be okay. Win or lose tonight, we're all gonna be here to support and love you. I promise. Come here."

i said holding my arms out, making him walk into them.

We just hold each other until we heard a knock on the door.

"Hook, you're on in 5."

We heard a producer through the door.

I turned back to him and smiled.

"You got it."

i told him before standing on my tippy toes a bit and kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled before heading over to the door.

"I love you."

i heard him say.

"I love you too, good luck."

I smiled before i saw him disappear behind the door.

Time to go watch my man.

TIME SKIP

Y/n Hardy.

Location: Arena.

I watched the monitor as Jack grabbed the FTW title and hit Tyler across the head.

I gasped watching Tyler fall to the mat before Jack scooted towards him putting his body over his.

1

2

3

"HERES YOUR WINNER AND NEW FTW CHAMPION, JACK PERRY."

I watched as Tyler was laid out on the mat.

Jack finally walked backstage with Tyler following a minute or 2 after.

As soon as Tyler saw me, he walked over to me walking into my arms.

I held him until we heard voices coming from behind him.

He turned around backing away from me seeing our dads standing there.

“Well damn.”

My dad said.

The 4 of us bursted out laughing.

“Wait so all that trouble just for y’all to be together already?”

Taz asked shaking his head smiling.

“Surprise!”

I said laughing.

The 4 of us spent the rest of the night going out to dinner and catching our dads up on our relationship.

While at dinner, Tyler decided he was finally ready for our relationship to be public. So he made sure i was okay with it, and he posted us on instagram.

The picture blew up, people were congratulating us, some fan girls were kinda iffy but most of it was support.

While we were nearing the end dinner, i got a text notification from Skye.

“Girl, check Taz’s twitter.”

The text read.

i furrowed my eyebrows and swiped on my phone until i got to the blue app.

I opened the app and all i saw was retweets of the picture and people talking about it.

I went to the trending and saw the two of us were trending.

I smiled shaking my head before putting my phone down and laying my head on Tyler’s shoulder.

I love my life.

🏷️: @kcloveswrestling @hooks-martin

#aew #aew imagine #aew hook #hook aew x reader #hook aew imagine #aew hook imagine

[sergeant-spoons]

And Know That Only I ~ Pt II

Perrine Blomme (Perry Bloom)

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​​​​​​​ @chaosklutz​​​​​​​​​​ @wexhappyxfew​​​​​​​​​​ @50svibes​​​​​​​​​​ @tvserie-s-world​​​​​​​​​​ @adamantiumdragonfly​​​​​​​​​​ @ask-you-what-sir​​​​​​​​​​ @whovian45810​​​​​​​​​​​ @brokennerdalert​​​​​​​​​​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​​​​​​​​​​ @claire-bear-1218​​​​​​​​​​ @heirsoflilith​​​​​​​​​​​ @itswormtrain​​​​​​​​​​​ @actualtrashpanda​​​​​​​​​​​ @wtrpxrks​​​​​​​​​​​

Part 2 of Follow Me, My Dear, And Know That Only I Will Follow You.

Title comes from the song “Long Way Around” by The Sweeplings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Airfield was as busy as a beehive on the morning of the big jump. It was to be Perry's first, and she considered herself rather fortunate that her luck had landed her with (supposedly) sleepy Holland. Every soldier from Private to Colonel bustled about, every minute demanding something new. The Toccoa men prepped themselves and the replacements tried to keep up; if they were lucky, they (like Perry or the newly-christened Babe) had an in with a Normandy veteran. Perry had just parted from Miller and Garcia, having been summoned by Sergeant Randleman for one last check-up. She could only suppose someone had let slip at her tiredness last night, and as she approached the sergeant, she found the culprit standing right at his side.

"Joe," she greeted him, then the others, "Sergeant. Doc."

"You feelin' alright, Bloom?" Doc Roe asked, studying her eyes and cheeks for signs of fever or delirium.

"Just peachy, Doc," she said. "No, wait, you're from the bayou, right?"

At his puzzled nod, she grinned.

"Then I'm fit as a croc, Doc."

Joe audibly groaned, but Randleman snorted, and Perry, pleased, prepared to convey her good nights' sleep and readiness for the jump. Before she could, however, something behind her caught the sergeant's eye and his smile dropped like a boulder off a cliff. Joe grabbed Perry by the shoulders and manhandled her behind Randleman and Roe, who'd stepped forward to conceal her.

"What the hell, guys?!" she yelped, trying to get around them, but they wouldn't let her. She had to grab Joe's shoulder and balance on her toes to see what was going on.

There was a transport going by with two men perched on the sides of the jeep, practically boot-to-shoulder with the driver. One of them sat with his chin up, bouncing merrily along with the rumbling of the jeep and waving to a few men he seemed to recognize, including Doc Roe. The other fellow—an officer, by the looks of his uniform—sat stiff as a gravestone, scanning the crowd with a thick glower.

"Who's that?" Perry asked, eyeing the second man. "He looks pissed."

"That there is Captain Sobel," Bull said, and she could tell without looking that something in his expression had soured.

"Oh, right." Perry gave a start. "Oh, shit. What's he doing here?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out."

"You sure? Something could be up."

Before she could try and slip around him, Joe grabbed Perry's arm and tugged her after him.

"Not for you to find out, either. Come on."

"Hey!" She pulled her arm back, ignoring the twinge it gave at the twisting motion. "For the last time, Joe I'm not a kid, so you can stop yanking me around, alright?"

His frown eased a bit, and when he nodded in the direction he wanted to take her, he seemed relieved when she continued to follow him. They skirted around the back of one tent and ducked into its neighbor, and Perry realized only once she was inside that it must be Joe's own. Well, it was the one he shared with Malarkey, but still—she felt suddenly bashful, put on the spot as if she was intruding on his childhood bedroom. There wasn't much left to witness, seeing as everyone had packed up that morning, but she could still smell his aftershave lingering in the closed air. It was the same used by all the men, but he added something to it that made the scent stand out—at least, to Perry it did. Maybe it was a spritz of cologne? She felt his hand on her arm and jumped, realizing too late that he'd asked her something she hadn't heard at all.

"Hey," he prodded. "You alright?"

Shaking off the strange urge to get up close to his face—to see if she was right about the cologne, of course—she had to ask him to repeat himself. Patient, he did, and she shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah, I, uh... I guess I got a bit spooked."

Starting with a truth seemed the way to go, and when he glanced out the open tarp flap toward the road where the transport had gone by, Perry jumped on the assumption.

"The way everybody talks about Sobel, it's like- like he's the monster under the bed, y'know? I never really expected to actually see him. And especially not here."

Joe sighed as he slung his pack onto the ground and knelt, shaking his head.

"You think he's jumping with us?"

He glanced up at her and she saw his frown had turned a bit stormy.

"Might be. If he is, chances are we'll leave him behind. He's too stubborn to listen to anybody out in the field, least of all his own sense—that's why we couldn't jump with him before. He'd get us all killed."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit."

He rose and stretched out his hands, and she saw he'd wrapped them as if the bandages were boxing tape.

"But enough about Sobel. If he jumps, he jumps."

He passed her a few strips for her own hands, and she couldn't keep a smile off her lips for long.

"Come on. One more time before we get on the planes."

As soon as she'd finished prepping her fists, she took up the stance he'd taught her and took a few quick practice swings. They mock-sparred for a bit until she managed to land a good one on his shoulder. He stumbled back and wobbled like he was about to fall, and Perry only understood he'd been messing around after she'd jumped forward and grabbed his shirt to steady him. He laughed, his hands coming to rest on her arms, and she squeezed his shirt as if displeased at his trickery when in reality she was just trying to keep her own balance.

"Thanks," he said, almost smirking, and Perry felt the fluttering in her chest maximize.

That was the first time he'd said just 'thanks' instead of 'thanks, kid'.

She stepped back, tugging at her hair, and Joe released her arms, nodding to her hands.

"You got 'em with you?"

She rifled through the inside pocket of her pack and showed him her brass knuckles. That gleam in his eyes from last night was back when he ruffled her hair and told her she'd done well. Leaning aside to peek out the tent flap, he missed the way her hand rose as if wanting to graze his chin and then fell just as quickly.

"Looks like Sobel's moved along," he reported. "You ready?"

She shrugged, starting to remove the wrappings.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

No glance or smile could have prepared her for the feeling of him taking her hands and unwrapping the rest of the bandages for her. It was such a tender and unexpected thing that she stood there and let him.

"No 'I guess'," he refuted, looking at her hands as he unwound the last strip. "You're gonna be fine."

"Right."

"Right?"

"I'm gonna be fine."

He stepped back, hesitated, and then held out the bandages to her.

"You'd better not need these out there."

Shaking her head, she pushed them back toward him, and he quirked a brow.

"No?"

"From what I've heard about your luck on D-Day," she replied, smiling faintly, "chances are, you'll need 'em."

He snorted and shook his head, but as he returned the bandages to his pack, she caught the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, betraying a kind of fondness that made her a little lightheaded.

"Yeah," he said, the gravel of his voice softening into sand, "you're probably right."

That day was a tumultuous one. The tall grass of Holland would have concealed one man, but a hundred helmets gleaming in the sun did little to disguise the advance. An orange flag welcomed them into Eindhoven, and by the time the better part of the company had entered the town, orange pennants had been strung from here to Kalamazoo. As men fell over themselves to flaunt their stations for the sake of a kiss (or a dozen), Perry searched for a way out of the crowd. Too many people meant too many close encounters and too high a chance of something going awry. She found Victor before long, but they'd only gone a few yards before they heard a kind of chanting from across the street. Perry, wan, hardly realized she'd jumped into the fray until four Dutchwoman were turning her away, their eyes downcast toward the blood and hair matting the cobblestones.

As soon as he caught up with her, Victor drew her aside, turmoil darkening his kind hazel eyes. Perry began to pace, the ugly scene just a few yards away filling her with a kind of rage she'd only felt once before in her life, on the day her mother abandoned the family. Stumbling her way out the door, a vodka bottle in hand, she'd turned to Clyde with venom in her eyes and spat that he was worthless. Perry—seeing red—nearly ran after her and gave her what for, but then Clyde began to cry and the brain fog lifted just enough for her to concede that violence wouldn't do any good. Seeing orange but feeling red this time, Perry was raring to start a fight. Victor agreed to back her up and they started back toward the abhorrent display, detouring only slightly to grab ahold of Joe and Doc Roe. The four Americans converged on the scene together, a spiteful Perry leading the charge, and started to chase off the spectators and perpetrators alike. In what seemed to be only a second, Perry found herself toe-to-toe with three scowling Dutchmen but would not back down, not for the sake of the first word and especially not the last. Victor came up to hover beside her as the argument boiled and bubbled until Perry came close to screaming at the inhumanity of it all.

“You do not know what we have lived-”

“No," she snapped, rage vibrating throughout her entire body, "I don’t. But I sure do know what it’s like to ruin yourself for the rights no person should have to beg for."

The ringleader of the three finally gave up and started to walk away, and Perry almost went after him, but again, somebody she cared about far more stopped her. Victor's hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality, and as a wave of unforgiving nausea swept over her, Perry turned and bent over her knees. Victor urged her over to a spot further away from judgmental eyes and Joe tried to give her his canteen to drink from, but she was too restless to stay still for long or even swallow. Victor went back over to one of the women still on the ground and sat beside her, and Perry was quick to follow. She crouched down beside her friend and gently introduced herself in Dutch as Doc Roe tended to the woman's bloodied scalp. After the woman had dried most of her blinding tears, she seemed to recognize Perry and threw herself into the soldier's arms with a wail. She kept repeating heroine over and over as she sobbed against Perry's shoulder, and they all just sat there, the Dutchwoman and the four soldiers, until the last of the crowd had dispersed.

“That coulda been my mother.”

Victor gave her a puzzled look, but the lump in her throat kept Perry from elaborating, and she stayed silent as she watched Lieutenant Lipton kindly lead the woman away, having offered to walk her home. Perry grabbed Victor's arm and used it as a crutch to bring herself to her wobbly feet, missing how Joe had offered her his on her other side. He dropped his arm, stuffed his brass knuckles in his pocket, and ran his hand through his hair.

"Your mother?" he asked, careful as could be, careful like he knew how Perry felt. Like he knew what it was like to want to punch the whole world. And that's what made her tell him (and Victor and Doc, of course) about Groningen and what leaving did to her family, about her mother and all the bottles in the cupboards, about how nothing could change what she'd done and why she'd thought she'd had to do it, and—most of all—about what little difference there was between the vultures of Sacramento and the wolves of Eindhoven. Joe looked awfully sorry to hear it all, and Perry itched to hug him but knew she might as well give herself up should she make the attempt. Just as she'd crossed the threshold of staring too long, Lieutenant Welsh popped up and dragged her and Victor away to find them lodgings for the night. His attempt was short-lived, however, and Victor ended up drifting off with Donald Hoobler and another trooper Perry didn't know well enough to name while Perry herself turned to Heffron and Guarnere for direction.

"Why don't ya go with Vest?" the sergeant of the pair suggested, pointing the butt of his pistol over her shoulder before nestling it back into its holster. "He said there's a bed or two to spare where he's goin'. Bet he wouldn't mind the comp'ny."

Unfortunately, Perry didn't know who this 'Vest' character was and ended up wandering on her own for a time. She'd just stopped to peer over a low fence into a stranger's fragrant garden when Joe Liebgott surfaced from the dwindling throng and all but dragged her down the street toward a boarding house with all its windows thrown open. As they walked, he informed her that Guarnere, having realized too late that she wouldn't know Vest if he was two feet in front of her, had sent Liebgott to find her. Lieb, in turn, had secured a room at the boarding house on his way and was certain there'd still be room for Perry. He was immediately contradicted by the frazzled landlady guarding the front door, but what she didn't know was that once Joe Liebgott set his mind to something, that something was going to get done. Then Joe Toye came down the stairs for the sole purpose of joining the persuasion and the landlady gave in, but only on the condition that Perry would share a room with one of the pair. To Perry's astonishment, Toye hooked his arm around hers—seemingly without a second thought—and began to lead her back up the stairs.

"He snores like a train engine," he elucidated, shooting her a smirk as Liebgott began to protest, and Perry could do little but laugh and turn her head toward the window in an attempt to hide her pinkening cheeks.

A few hours passed as they dropped their packs and went to find some dinner, then played poker with some of the other fellas in the boarding house until they got sick of losing to stony-faced Toye and hauled themselves off to bed. Perry suggested they do the same and Joe assented, and as the first stars came out, they kicked off their boots, took one last look out the window at the sunset, and readied for bed. Jostling for a spot in the cramped bathroom down the corridor for tooth-brushing and face-washing purposes left them more tired than before, and they rolled into bed almost as soon as they'd gotten back to the room. The mattress creaked a bit but was comfortable enough, and the pillow was one of the nicest they'd maintained since joining the Airborne. The only issue was the singularity of it:

It was the pillow because it was the only one.

Their lighthearted bickering over who would get it devolved into sleepy grabbing and poorly-suppressed snickering that they tried to bite back for the sake of those trying to sleep in the adjoining rooms. Equally persistent, neither would relent, but then Perry stuffed the pillow under Joe's head and plopped hers down on his chest, tossing both arms over his torso to keep him still. She expected him to squirm a bit, but he didn't, just laughed and laughed until she had to threaten to use the pillow to smother him to get him to stop. A peaceful kind of quiet descended upon the room, and as the darkness become total, neither moved an inch, thoroughly comfortable as they lay and daring to assume the other felt the same.

Twenty minutes later, Perry had drifted off into the land of slumber and Joe Toye didn't know what to do with himself.

He knew he'd landed himself in a sort of predicament as soon as they came into the room and saw there was only one bed. It was big enough for the both of them and Perry didn't seem bothered, but what she didn't know was that something had been nagging at Joe ever since he saw her jump into the fray that afternoon, a kind of fire in her eyes that ignited his own. The day turned to night and all of a sudden, they were sharing the bed and he had no idea how to proceed. Now, this was long before he knew who Perry really was—that 'he' was actually a 'she'—but what he did know was that he'd let her stay there, cuddled up to him like a lover, because every time he looked at her she lit a flame inside his chest. And that flame, stubborn as he was, wouldn't go out no matter how hard he willed it to. But here, in the dark, in the night... it was enough for him to pretend. They didn't have to be who they were, they could be someone else, in the dark.

He could pretend that maybe, just maybe, if he was braver than he was, if things were different in so many ways, if this Private Bloom dozing on his chest was a Miss Bloom instead...

"Get some sleep, Lovely Summer," he mumbled against her hair where it tickled his chin, his heart pounding like the dickens. He hadn't expected any sort of acknowledgment, assuming she was fast asleep, so when he felt her nuzzle her lips against his chest in a half-asleep kiss, he felt a thrill and a chill—and it was all too much. Uncertainty flashed into fear, and he froze where he was, one arm draped loosely over Perry while the other hand gripped the sheets, seeking solace. When at last he tried to get up, Perry made a muffled noise of displeasure against his shirt. The vibrations of her voice shot a shiver up his stiff arms, and he hesitated.

"No," he thought he heard her say in a voice that seemed higher than it should have been. "Sleep. Here."

"Right here?"

"Right here."

And then she was asleep, really asleep. He felt the rise and fall of her chest beside him and wondered at the strange way she curved the top half of her torso away from his almost subconsciously. It was as he lay there that he felt his arms relax, and then his hands, his shoulders, and finally, his heart. It became clear even to his sleepy mind that he wouldn't have gotten up after all, even without her protest. He was just too darn comfortable like this, too darn safe, too darn... happy. So Joe laid back down, closed his eyes, and decided to stay happy—at least until the morning twilight gave way to the dawn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although the first light of day was only just poking through the window, Joe was gone by the time Perry awoke. She sat up, rubbed at her eyes, and felt poorly about herself until the door creaked open and a pair of hands offered two cups of coffee. Joe's gentle smile danced above them, tugging up at the corners when he started to move the cups in a song and dance as Perry tried to take one. She laughed and he relented, handing her a cup, then fumbling in his pocket for one solitary packet of sugar. They split it and pretended it made all the difference in their bitter morning beverages, sitting on the floor and eyeing the world outside the window. Perry kept an eye on her watch and when Joe asked her if she had a hot date, she snorted and told him she didn't want to be late for whatever came next.

"We don't even know what that's gonna be," he said, then, after a beat: "Perry."

"What?"

Joe nodded toward the floor, indicating the bedroom beneath theirs.

"Your foot's tappin' so much you've woken 'em up."

Perry jumped to her feet, flustered, and took a long, hard look at the sunny day while Joe took a long, hard, unnoticed look at her.

"Here's an idea," she said, turning to rifle through her pack and emerging with a block of rations. "C'mon."

Joe didn't get up, just watched her go.

"Where you goin'?"

"It's beautiful out," she said from the doorway. "Don't you wanna eat outside?"

He hesitated, and that was all she needed to know he wouldn't be joining her. Her spirits fell, and her expression must have shown it, for he started to rise, but she waved him back down.

"I'll just go and find Victor or somebody. You- you go back to sleep. Or something."

That was the last time they'd see each other for quite some time. Perry had only just located Victor and Donald Hoobler—dining upon a whole breakfast spread on the upwind side of a haybale—when a runner came past, informing everyone he saw of their proceeding orders. They hopped aboard the tanks of their sister regiment within the hour and started to roll out for Nuenen, receiving a most boisterous farewell from the locals of Eindhoven. At times, Perry was able to glimpse Joe's helmet moving on a tank up ahead and knew it was him from the way his shoulders moved as he talked or listened to a friend. She itched to go see him, maybe make sure they were on good terms, but doubt crept in and held her nerve like a vice. She didn't know who they were anymore, and he didn't know who she was, and all the not-knowing made her dizzy enough that when Lieutenant Brewer crumpled like a sandcastle right in front of her, she didn't even flinch.

The battle didn't last long and ended up a resounding failure on the Americans' part. Things went blurry for Perry after a time and all she could really do was stick to her rifle and her buddies and try not to get shot like Brewer. Her senses only started to clear around the time they made it far enough down the road to safely stop for the night, and panic started to set in as she took stock of who'd kept up with the gloomy crowd and who hadn't. Sergeant Martin spread the word that Sergeant Randleman was missing and—worse—that Victor Rich had vanished with him. Martin was the last to have seen them, which didn't seem to be sitting well with his nerves. With Victor and her squadron leader gone, Perry was already close to her wits' end; the final blow came when an emotionally- and physically-drained Doc Roe informed her that Joe Toye had been sent off the line not ten minutes ago, having been hit badly in the leg during the battle.

Turns out Joe had needed those bandages after all.

"How's your squadron?" Doc Roe asked, and it hurt them both to think it was a question he was asking in Rich's stead. "Everybody accounted for?"

"Everybody 'cept..." Perry looked down, squashing her grief like it was the beetle crawling over her boot. "Well. Might as well say it. Miller's dead."

Roe just shook his head, discontent, and went back to his work. For a moment, Perry envied him, that he had something to occupy his mind with, then felt guilty for those who'd been wounded or killed at Nuenen. Buck Compton went by on a stretcher and tapped her leg, telling her to keep her chin up, and when she told him blank-faced that Randleman and Red were missing, his pained smile fell. She watched him go and kicked at the earth, the voices in her head getting louder and louder. Fortunately, Sergeant Lipton turned up in the right place at the right time. He drew Perry aside in an attempt to assess her clearly-fragile mental state only for her to startle him by letting loose a secret she'd kept for months upon months. Three of the most important people to her had gone MIA or WIA, and now Perry, mocked by a starless sky, let it all spill out. She told Lipton who she was and why and how she'd gotten there, and despite his initial amazement, he got over his shock marvelously quickly. A bit of anger flashed through his expression, then pity, then uncertainty, but by the time he realized her panic, he'd managed to square it all with himself just enough to prevent her from completely losing her shit. Unfortunately, there wasn't a thing he could do to fix the situation other than try and calm her down. Once he'd managed to settle her just enough to think clearly, he sent her to refill her canteen and went off by himself to think things over.

Perry returned to the spot she'd left Lipton and found no trace. At a bit of a loss, she stood and chugged all of the water she'd just retrieved until she felt sick. She sat down until she felt less nauseous, but by that time, the gloaming was turning to twilight and she realized a whole night had passed. In the absence of a sane mind, she hadn't noticed. Still, there wasn't much for an enlisted man to see or do at that encampment other than pace and stew, and so pace and stew, Perry did. Eventually, Sergeant Martin marched over, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her over to Skip Muck in the hopes that he could:

"-calm down the anxious rabbit whose makin' everybody else anxious—oh, for fuck’s sake, would you stop that shaking-"

Perry managed to force her limbs to go still, but in doing so, sent her heart speeding and thumping all throughout her chest. Though she barely knew him and he, her, Skip frowned with concern. He squinted at her face and blinked for a moment, then turned back to Martin.

"Uh, Johnny, you seen Liebgott anywhere?"

She might have winced to think he'd pawn her off on another so quickly if she hadn't been used to such treatment of replacements, but instead, she just sagged and resumed tapping her foot. Skip's look turned sympathetic and he looked close to apologizing before Martin turned over his shoulder and lit up, drawing Skip's and Perry's attention.

"Bull!" the sergeant exclaimed. "Red!"

Reunions were swift and clamorous. Perry was the first to make it to Victor, jumping right on his back and nearly knocking him over. Victor just laughed and asked if she was alright, and she retorted that if anyone should be asking such a thing, it should be her. A crowd started to gather and Perry hopped down, adjusting her shirt and sleeves from where they'd ridden up. She kept looking right at Victor, then at Randleman, then back to Victor as if this was some kind of illusion conjured up by her sleepless, heartsick mind. Fortunately, they were real flesh and blood and had come back to the company after all. For a second or two as she watched Skip walk Victor up toward the medic's station while Doc Spina came down the hill to greet Randleman, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, Joe Toye would pop up from behind one of the trucks and come over just to ruffle her hair and tell her everybody was mistaken, he hadn't been hit this time around.

Alas, Joe was fated to stay gone—and for several months at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Pt III here.

#perrine blomme/perry bloom #perry gets her own fic part two electric boogaloo #band of brothers #joseph toye #joe toye x oc #in defense of chicanery #band of brothers oc #pov rewrite #post-fic update #joe toye #band of brothers oc ficlet #band of brothers ficlet #band of brothers fanfiction #hbo war show #hbo war show oc #hbo war show oc ficlet #hbo war show ficlet #hbo war show fanfiction #oc ficlet #oc fanfiction #follow me my dear and know that only I will follow you

[theostrophywife]

I love your Ithan fic and I was wondering if you would be willing to write a Ruhn fic where the reader is sister's with Ithan (there's no being engaged to Hypaxia), and the two get together when Ithan and Bryce reconnect and it's fluffy and little smutty? Sorry if this doesn't make sense. Thank you

sweet like candy.

author's note: when i tell y'all that i'm on my knees for ruhn danaan, crown prince of the valbaran fae...whew. 🥵🥵🥵

Do you want to get out of here?

Ruhn’s voice purrs into your thoughts. His suggestive tone pulls your attention away from your conversation with Bryce and Hunt as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room. 

Flanked by Dec and Flynn, Ruhn raises a brow at you from the couch. A cloud of mist swirls around your three favorite males as your boyfriend blows a ring of smoke in the air. The stench of mirthroot clings to every surface in the tiny living room, which was even more crowded than usual since Flynn thought it was a great idea to invite what seemed like the entire population of Crescent City into your home.

You chuckle, shaking your head. Ruhn pouts as you lower your mental shield. Isn’t it rude to leave your own party?

We wouldn’t technically be leaving, your boyfriend says with a sly smile. Just going upstairs and having a party of our own.

A shiver of anticipation skirts up your spine. Well, when you put it like that…

“You two are adorable,” Bryce cuts in. She flips her long red hair behind her shoulder, shooting a knowing look between you and her older brother.

You blink, almost forgetting about everything that wasn’t Ruhn. Right. You were actively having a conversation before your boyfriend distracted you. 

“Try disgusting,” Ithan cuts in. Your older brother states, blanching. “Living with these two is almost as bad as my stay at the Bryce and Hunt sex villa.” 

Bryce snorts as you roll your eyes. “I thought you were the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae’s number one fan.”

“Not when he’s dating my baby sister,” Ithan responds with a grimace. 

“Such an alphahole,” you mutter in annoyance. Despite the comment, you find yourself smiling. You and Ithan were incredibly close, given all that you’ve been through as siblings and he was incredibly protective of you. As wolves, you were both fiercely loyal and stubborn to a fault. 

When Sabine kicked him out of the Den, you were out on a mission away from Lunathion and you thanked Urd that Bryce had taken him in after Perry dropped him off nearly beaten to a pulp. You weren't sure what you would've done if you'd lost another brother. Needless to say, you went into a rage upon your return. None of the other wolves had ever seen you so angry and completely, utterly, out of your mind when you attacked the Prime Apparent in retaliation to what she'd done to your brother. Sabine may have been stronger than you, but you would've torn her apart for nearly taking Ithan away from you too. The grief of losing Conner wasn't something you wanted to live through again.

Luckily, Ithan was there to intervene. Along with his newfound group of friends that took you in just as they had done for him. 

It wasn’t that big of an adjustment to live with four males since you grew up with Ithan and Connor, but Declan and Flynn had a harder time adjusting. The two Fae males weren’t used to adhering to any semblance of order. They would never admit it, but the changes you’d implemented around the house, including coming up with a rotating chore schedule and weekly grocery trips so that you had something other than beer and pizza in the fridge greatly improved their lives. 

Flynn often called you a bossy know-it-all and while Dec complained about the incessant bickering between you and the Fae lord, they both warmed up to you rather quickly. Mostly because they've never seen anyone put Ruhn in his place quite like you did.

The Crown Prince didn't mind that you made him take his boots off before stepping on the brand new pink rug that you insisted added warmth to the living room or that he couldn’t drink milk right out of the carton anymore without receiving a swat on the back of the head. Ruhn didn’t even bat an eyelash when you switched the channel from the sunball game to one of those trashy reality shows that you seemed to love so much, despite his roommate’s protests. 

Most of all, Ruhn loved that you didn’t seem to give a shit that he was the Starborn Prince. You still yelled at him when he ate your leftovers or used up the fancy shampoo that you and Flynn hoarded like gold. And he loved every second of it.

Hunt nudges you with his wing. “I, for one, am glad that you two are dating,” the angel states. “You put Danaan in his place like no one’s business.”

A tattooed arm slinks over your shoulder, pulling you close. “And here I thought we were becoming friends, Athalar.”

The Umbra Mortis chuckles. “Doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy a tiny little thing like her knocking you down a few pegs.”

Bryce grins as she surveys the absolute love struck look on her brother’s face. “Agreed, Athalar. It’s about damn time that my brother got a love life of his own, so he can stay out of mine.”

“Speaking of my love life.” Ruhn starts, nudging your hip with his. “It’s time we bow out of this party.” 

“We have an early start tomorrow and someone turns into a grumpy little wolf when they don’t get enough sleep.” Your boyfriend teases, smoothly providing an alibi for you two to sneak off to his room. 

“Seriously?” Flynn asks with a groan. “Little wolf really sank her claws into you huh, Danaan? You’re so unbelievably whipped.”

Ruhn only chuckles. “You would be too if you were lucky enough to have her as your girlfriend.”

You scrunch your nose. “I think I’d take my chances with the dragon.” 

With a bevy of laughter and a huff of annoyance from the lordling, you wave to your friends as Ruhn ushers you upstairs. 

As soon as the door shuts behind you, Ruhn’s mouth is on yours. You giggle, smiling into the kiss as your boyfriend leads you to the bed. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress as Ruhn carefully sets you down, his raven hair cascading over you like a dark curtain while he deepens the kiss. The guttural sound he releases when your tongue sweeps past his parted lips makes your head spin with desire. 

“You taste like cherries,” you murmur, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. Flicking your tongue through his lip ring was Ruhn’s invitation to unleash himself on you.

“Flynn made me try one of his fancy little cocktails again,” he replies absentmindedly, lifting the hem of your shirt and pressing kisses into your overheated skin. Ruhn pulls it over your head before moving downwards to slide his hands up your skirt. He crumples the fabric up between his fingers before taking the lace of your panties between his teeth. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll taste like you soon enough.” 

The predatory smirk he flashes your way sends a shiver down your spine as Ruhn’s head disappears between your thighs. He lets out a pleased hum when he finds you wet and soaking for him, ready for his tongue to be buried between your slick folds. 

Ruhn grips your hips, holding you down as he slowly licks a stripe through your soaking core. “Hang on tight, baby.” 

That’s the only warning you get before his wicked tongue threatens to unravel you. Ruhn grunts as you buck against his mouth, your slender fingers tugging at his hair roughly. He loved making you needy and desperate. The bossy wolf tamed into a mewling pup with just the flick of his tongue. 

Your boyfriend eats you out like it’s his sole mission in life, making you moan and writhe underneath him as he slides a finger inside of you. Judging by the way your thighs clench around him, Ruhn takes it as a signal to slip both his index and middle finger inside you, curving to touch that spongy spot atop your walls. 

“I can tell you’re about to cum, but can you do something for me, little pup?” Ruhn asks from between your legs. 

You nod, barely forming coherent thoughts from the pleasure he was giving you. “Anything, Ruhn.” 

“I want you to ride my face, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes flutter open. “What if I’m too heavy? I—I don’t want to crush you.” 

Ruhn squeezes your hip gently. “You won’t. Trust me baby, I can handle it.” 

You shift, putting your weight on your elbows. This was new territory for you. You weren’t by any means inexperienced, but no male had ever asked you to sit on their face. Then again, no male ever ate your pussy with as much enthusiasm and expertise as Ruhn did. It always surprised you how attentive your boyfriend was. Whether you were in or out of the bedroom, Ruhn always made sure to put you first.

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” Your boyfriend reassures you with a gentle kiss. Ruhn lies on his back, grinning as he pulls you by the wrist. “Don’t be shy, baby. Come get on top of me.” 

Despite your uncertainty, you’re more than happy to oblige him. Ruhn watches as you straddle his stomach, inching higher and higher until both of your thighs are settled on either side of his face. He twines your fingers together, kissing your knuckles before placing your hands on the wooden headboard. 

“Hold on to the headboard, sweetheart.” 

His voice is laced with sensual promise and you can’t help but whimper as his large hands clamp down on the tops of your thighs, firmly positioning you over his face like it was your own personal throne. You slightly hover above him as though you were still scared that he wouldn’t be able to handle all of you. 

“All the way, baby. I want to feel all of you.”

Slowly, but surely, you put all of your weight on Ruhn and he groans in pleasure, continuing his feast like eating your pussy was his favorite thing in the world. The worry of crushing your boyfriend soon dissipates as he works you with his tongue. It feels good, so good that you find yourself gripping the headboard for support while you ride his face. 

Despite having his mouth full, Ruhn finds another way to let you know just how much he enjoys your enthusiasm.

There’s a good girl. Keep riding my face just like that, sweetheart.

“Burning fucking Solas,” you mutter under your breath. “That feels so good. Don’t stop, Ruhn.”

Ruhn moans at the desperation in your voice, circling your clit with his tongue and flicking faster and faster as you buck against his sharp jaw. 

Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Go on, then. I want to taste you on my tongue.

The words send you over the edge and you cum hard, squirting into Ruhn’s mouth while he laps up your juices. Soft moans slip past your lips almost reverently as your boyfriend licks up every last drop. The orgasm racks through your entire body and you crumple into Ruhn’s arms. He strokes your hair before kissing you softly, the taste of you coating his tongue. 

Your eyes flutter open, finding his loving gaze already fixated on you. “Was that your first time squirting?” he asks gently. 

Heat travels up your cheeks. You were so busy chasing after yours that you didn’t even realize what you’d done. “I—I’m so sorry. I’ve never done that before. Everything just happened so fast—”

Ruhn cuts you off with a kiss. When he pulls away, there’s nothing but care and appreciation in his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I loved it. You taste sweet like candy.” He caresses your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips. “Did you like it?” 

“Are you kidding? It was fucking amazing.” Ruhn chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re fucking amazing, Ruhn.” 

You kiss him, slow and deep, showing him just how much you appreciated every part of him. Ruhn was the best boyfriend any female could ever ask for. He was kind, thoughtful, loyal and a top notch lay. You made sure to convey that last part out loud. 

“You’ve been hanging around Flynn too much,” he says with an amused chuckle. “Now c’mere, sweetheart. I’m trying to add excellent cuddler to the list as well.” 

You sigh happily as Ruhn wraps you into his arms, pulling you close and kissing your temple. “Consider it done.” 

#i am simping for ruhn on this fine tuesday evening #THE CROWN PRINCE OF THE VALBARAN FAE? #ruhn danaan #ruhn danaan smut #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan x you #crescent city #hoeab #hosab

[girlreblogger]

also to add to my previous post, when i say blk yn go through crazy situations im exaggerating but i mean (“cause me personally!!!!!!!!!!!”) allowing the character to be treated in certain manner and be put in “awkward” positions. i also want to say that the “situations” seem unfulfilling like i wanted to say in the first place.

because of the unsavory situations she is put in she legit has to have characteristics that are straight up unnecessary if the wellbeing of her character was prevalent. and i have to say that because of blk yn stories that it applies to. (and no ian talking abt how ppl be complaining abt yn being “ghetto” 😒)

drama, comfort, or for fun, is cool and dandy but it’s the same type of thing and i’m not tryna come for the plug stories like don’t nbgaf like omg i’m so tired of hearing bout them freaking stories.

to the ppl who still decide to ignore how damaging fr CERTAIN! blk yn fics y’all remind me of the ppl who support tyler perry movies simply because it’s for entertainment and “he’s telling a story” (that not everyone has)

yep. those things are true but an impact worse than good is being produced. like bffr.

and i feel conflicted by even saying that because some ppl obviously genuinely relate or find comfort in those stories but at what cost. like is comfort worth change and progression?

me rn:

some ppl just really don’t gaf and don’t care to want better. please don’t let the ppl who don’t gaf sway you. for the ppl who do, reblog nice fics or write. blow them up so other blk girls can find them. we deserve it.

there are so many blk fics where yn is not going through those things and if there is “drama” is solved or there’s a healthy resolve. (there’s so many blk writers who need to be publishing books fuck tumblr or ao3 and tryna get reblogs. with all that talent girl MAKE SOME MONEYYYY! YALL STUFF BE GOOD.)

i’m dead serious. why haven’t you thought abt it.

but yeah. it is what it is we have to put more work in to change as people in general. but i really just want my ppl to grow. ppl find comfort in fics for a reason. i really think a good balance of what everyone is looking for and needs should be found. i know ppl gonna feel like ppl telling them what to do but they prolly the ones who don’t want the change for wtv.. reason… ahem..

ppl feeling hit by what i said:

there’s obviously a problem and as a ppl! why can’t we just fix it. like at least try.

side note:

there’s so many ways to get drama. also the smut after arguing piss me off this is off topic cause it applies to a lot of ppl who make fics but like damn. y’all ain’t gon talk it out. and it be the most weird arguments and stuff and you wanna squeeze lemons after that???

idk that annoys me like everyyyy time? and i think smut after arguments can be well written but ….

anyways the blk ff community to damn big for us to be sitting here starving acting like we don’t have food in the refrigerator to make something.

get it together yall. youn want what’s in the refrigerator go get your keys and buy something.

i’m tired of this shit that’s why so many blk writers stop writing or ppl stop reading because it’s too much going on all for some damn fake characters we wanna imagine ourselves with.

and i know for some ppl it’s abt the followers and all that which i mean to each is own i mean

sigh i was tryna be proper and cordial but i really want better for us but it’s so many ppl who go too far or do too little. and some are so sheep that they go with someone else’s opinion too. you know you tired of all the toxic fics say sumn. you know you tired of ppl constantly bringing up yn being ghetto for no reason (that shit piss me off so bad i can’t. they be so close but so farr) say sumn.

me after thinking someone finna bring up how unnecessary struggle love/toxic/extra smutty blk fics are but they end up just complaining abt yn using aave:

anyways i’m ranting. i wanted to say what i felt.

muah

#x black reader #x black reader fluff #black reader #x black fem reader #anime x black!reader #black fanfiction #aot x black reader #jjk x black reader #connie x black reader #x fem black reader #aot x black y/n #eren x black fem!reader #jjk x black y/n #eren x black reader #black yn #i love using gifs theyre so fun🤭 #i said what i said again

[aanoia]

𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖎𝖆'𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

These are works of Fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, coincidence or used in a fictitious manner.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

『 m a r a u d e r s 』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [Love From the Other Side]

summary/prompt: Sirius Black x reader, Love From the Other Side by Fallout Boy

warning(s): blood, death, death eaters, voldemort in the flesh, yk, not good ending

↠ [London Boy]

summary/prompt: James Potter x reader, London Boy by Taylor Swift

warning(s): nothing

↠ [Mine]

summary/prompt: Remus Lupin x reader, Mine by Taylor Swift

warning(s): death? idek

↠ [Broken One]

summary/prompt: James Potter x reader, Broken One by RaeLynn

warning(s): divorce (if you need to talk, reach out. this is something I know personally so I'd love to be someone you can trust about it.)

↠ [arms]

summary/prompt: Sirius Black x reader, arms by Christina Perri

warning(s): Sirius :)

↠ [Cold]

summary/prompt: Sirius Black x reader, I hate making these.

warning(s): ptsd, flashbacks, trauma, yk, the usual with our boy Sirius

↠ [Horribly Right]

summary/prompt: Sirius Black x reader, after seeing Sirius being slapped by his mother, you decide to pull a prank that's outcome goes horribly... right?

warning(s): abuse, getting disowned

↠ [Like you hold the world in your hands, and the stars in your eyes]

summary/prompt: Sirius Black x reader, none (once a pt. 2 is posted this will be moved to the series section)

warning(s): none really, just cursing

↠ ["Just Friends"]

summary/prompt: James Potter x reader, truth or dare leads to drunken confessions leads to sweet kisses

warning(s): alcohol, mentions of weed

↠ [Lover]

summary/prompt: Remus Lupin x reader, Lover by Taylor Swift

warning(s): none I don't think

↠ [Pancakes for Dinner]

summary/prompt: James Potter x reader, Pancakes for Dinner my Lizzie McAlpine

warning(s): heavy anxiety omg, plane crash-ish?

↠ [Timeless]

summary/prompt: James Potter x reader, Timeless by Taylor Swift

warning(s): none

↠ [Possibility]

summary/prompt: Sirius Black x reader, loosely inspired by Possibility by Likke Li

warning(s): heartbreak. not a happy ending ish. not proofread

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

↠ [Adele; 19 as fics]

summary/prompt: it's own mini masterlist, the songs from her first album as fics

warning(s): different for each fic

↠ [Dying pt.1] [Definitely (Dying) pt.2]

summary/prompt: poly!marauders x reader, the marauders had known their girlfriend smoked to dissipate the pain from her abusive family. They just didn't know how bad it could, and would get

summary/prompt pt.2: poly!marauders x reader, a failed attempt and a year later, y/n is finally okay

warning(s): serious TW, mentions of abuse, toxic asf family, drug abuse, weed, alcohol, whiskey, underage drinking and smoking, substance abuse, self harm, cuts, abuse (ish?), depression (not mentioned but apparent), seriously bad mental health

↠ [I Don't Know Who You're Talking About] [You (pt.2)]

summary/prompt: Remus Lupin x reader, after everyone they loved was gone, they needed each other but he was too scared (i'm not very good at these)

summary/prompt pt.2: after twelve years, she meets him again

warning(s): angst, blood, sad, murder, the usual

↠ [No pt.1] [Yes (No) pt.2]

summary/prompt: James Potter x reader, James won't give up until he gets a yes

summary/prompt pt.2: James Potter x reader, James finally gets a yes and makes sure you don't regret it

warning(s): James is lowkey and pushover and I'm pretty sure asking someone to go out over and over again is harassment so that too

↠ [a christmas advent calendar]

summary/prompt: mini masterlist, just 25 days of Christmas (my birthday!)

warning(s): different for each fic

『 h a r r y p o t t e r 』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [Can't Help but Love You]

summary/prompt: preferance, Draco Malfoy x reader, Matteo Riddle x reader, request

warning(s): none

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

『 s i x o f c r o w s 』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [Always By Your Side]

summary/prompt: Kaz Brekker x reader, Saturn by Sleeping At Last

warning(s): slightly ooc Kaz, death, mentions of sickness, blood, could be an interpretation of suicide if you look at the end closely

↠ [Crazy]

summary/prompt: Kaz Brekker x reader, Trouble by Valerie Broussard, the enemy of your enemy is your friend... unless they are also your enemy

warning(s): blood?, knives, uhhhh violence lmfao, enemies to lovers

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

『 a v a t a r (2 0 0 9)』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [It's okay, baby]

summary/prompt: Tsu'tey x reader, Tsu'tey has a nightmare

warning(s): blood, death

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

『 h a m i l t o n 』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [All I Need is You]

summary/prompt: Daveed Diggs x reader, after a suicide attempt you're empty yet Daveed never left your side. What happens when you drag him down with you?

warning(s): suicide, self harm, bandages, sadness ig

↠ [Pretty in the Moonlight]

summary/prompt: Thomas Jefferson x reader, just missing your boyfriend and him missing you (this won't turn to black for some reason LMFAO)

warning(s): broken glass, cheesy Thomas

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

『 o u t e r b a n k s 』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [I can't lose my girl]

summary/prompt: JJ Maybank x reader, JJ finds his girlfriend in a horrifying state after wanting to spend the night with her

warning(s): suicide, OD, foaming at the mouth

↠ [You cut?]

summary/prompt: JJ Maybank x reader, JJ walks in on reader doing something that breaks his heart

warning(s): TW self harm, blood, cuts, broken glass

↠ [Live For You?]

summary/prompt: JJ Maybank x reader, reader is fresh out of the mental hospital

warning(s): huge TW, suicide, self harm, mental hospital, mentions of alcohol and weed

↠ [How Well Do We Know Each Other (interview)]

summary/prompt: OBX cast x reader, Rudy Pankow x reader, the obx cast gets put to the test on how well they know their coworkers (again it won't turn black)

warning(s): drug mention, not proofread

↠ [Believe]

summary/prompt: John B Routledge x reader, your ex treasure hunting partner is your future romantic partners dad

warning(s): SPOILERS SEASON 3! swearing, mention of gun, suggestion of rape (nothing explicit, not even the word), burns, Rafe Cameron

↠ [Touron]

summary/prompt: JJ Maybank x reader, going on vacation isn't so bad when a certain blondie comes into your life

warning(s): underage drinking, underae smoking, swearing, gun, topper

↠ [Snow?]

summary/prompt: JJ Maybank x reader, the Outer Banks becomes a winter wonderland

warning(s): swearing

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

『 m a r v e l 』

- 𝚘 𝚗 𝚎 𝚜 𝚑 𝚘 𝚝 𝚜 -

↠ [Reunions and Goodbyes]

summary/prompt: Peter Quill x reader, after your best friend disappeared you made a name for yourself with the help of the Avengers, what happens when you accidently find said best friend again? But in space?

warning(s): death 😋, not proofread

- 𝚜 𝚎 𝚛 𝚒 𝚎 𝚜 -

(masterlist template by @hyunnows, text dividers by @cafekitsune)

other medias and fandoms

#aanoia #romance #marauders era #remus lupin #the marauders #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black #james potter x reader #harry potter #jj maybank x reader #the maraunders map #marvel #marauders #peter quill x reader #peter parker #peter pettigrew #peter quill #tony #clint #iron man #iron dad #avatar wotw #avatar #six of crows x reader #six of crows #kaz brekker x you #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #nina zenik

[laurenairay]

you can’t blame a girl for trying - C. Makar

Summary: The night Luna met Cale, she thought her world was going to get turned upside down…so why are all of their dates such disasters? Also known as, the Cale Makar dating fail fic. 4 times a date with Cale failed, and 1 time a date went well.

Word Count: 9.8k words.

Warnings: some bad language, awkward situations, one bloody injury, anxiety, 4+1, fluff

A/N: this has been a work of love over the past few months, a WIP I kept going back and forth from, and I just want to say thanks to @wyattjohnston​ for all of the support and encouragement!

Title credit; Lasso by The Band Perry

also tagging @hockeylvr59​ @fallinallincurls​ @starshine-hockey-girl​

*

Friday night

When I first laid eyes on you, Well, the night just felt so odd, You looked at me and the stars lined up, So I thought I'd heard from God, And I gave him my best shot.

Friday nights were made for dancing, drinking, and letting go of the stresses of the week. At least, that’s what Luna believed. Going out with friends to blow off some steam felt so cathartic, and this evening was no different. She’d come out to one of her favourite bars in Downtown Denver with some friends from work, and she’d danced, sang, and gossiped her heart out, a few shots of vodka easing the way into the weekend. This was her comfort zone for sure, and she knew her confidence turned heads just as much as the loud conversation with her friends did.

A few cute guys had come over to their table, clearly intent on talking to a couple of her friends – which Luna was absolutely cheerleading because get it girls – and she took the time to escape to the bar herself, ready for another drink. It was only when the bartender had taken her order that she noticed a guy staring at her from down the bar. Huh. He was cute, that much was clear even if he wasn’t Hollywood Handsome, and the way his shoulders filled out his shirt definitely caught her eye. Well it couldn’t hurt to hold a conversation of her own while her friends were busy, no? Luna flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder, tilting her head invitingly, and the guy’s eyes widened slightly before he slowly made his away over. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy looked so nervous to talk to her, especially a guy this cute, and it only enthralled her more. When he finally reached her side, she forced down the butterflies stirring in her stomach at just how much bigger he was than her. Wow.

“Hi,” she murmured, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Hi…do you come here often?”

Oh wow.

Luna couldn’t stop her inelegant snort at his cheesy words, grinning slightly at the mortified blush that crept over the guy’s face. “How often has that line worked for you?”

“I’ve literally never used that line before in my life, I am so sorry,” he groaned.

Simply by the horrified look on his face and the stiff way he held himself, it let her know that he was telling her the entire truth. Poor lamb. Somehow it was endearing though.

“I’m Luna,” she mused, holding out her hand.

He quickly took it, shaking her hand gently, yet she could still sense the strength of his grip. Definitely something she appreciated in a man.

“I’m Cale,” he replied, more relieved than anything else, “Do you mind if we forget the last 30 seconds?”

“Oh I’m remembering this for years – you’re not getting out of that embarrassing line that easily,” she smirked.

The guy…Cale…groaned but seemed to laugh at himself anyway, shrugging his agreement. “That’s fair.”

Luna just smiled to herself, taking him in. She tried waving off Cale’s offer to buy her drink as the bartender finally appeared back in front of her, smiling her thanks as Cale just added it to his tab – who was this guy? – taking a sip of her vodka soda while her eyes not-so-subtly ran over the man next to her. Just as cute as she’d thought when she first spotted his eyes on hers, shoulders somehow even broader in the best way, and his blue eyes were both pretty and earnest. Not to mention tousled light brown hair that she just wanted to run her fingers through, and a perma-blush dusting across his cheeks? He’d definitely caught her attention looking this good, even if his clear awkwardness being in this environment caught her attention even more.

What was this guy’s deal?

“You really don’t come here often, do you?”

“I can’t say a bar of this…intensity is my usual forte, no. I’m just here with friends,” he admitted.

Honesty. She could appreciate that. And he was cute…

“So what would be your forte?” she asked smoothly, tilting her head ever-so-slightly again.

He immediately picked up on her change in tone, her lean towards flirting, and it was almost as if his whole demeanour changed; his shoulders broadened as he relaxed against the bar top, his nervousness eased out, and he smiled softly. She liked it.

“Somewhere a lot quieter. Can’t exactly talk to someone properly when I can’t hear them, hm? Can’t appreciate them like they deserve here,” he shrugged, although his eyes locked with hers, intense and intent.

Oh damn. How direct. How perfect.

“Somewhere quieter to appreciate someone? Like what?” she asked, smile curling at her lips, playing along with his flirting.

“A private intimate dinner. Maybe a little light music, just to set the mood. Candlelight, flowers, excellent wine,” he said with an effortless smile.

Oh he had game, finally.

“That sounds much more appealing than this place. I can see why it’s more your forte,” she said as neutrally as she could.

Nice and neutral, just to see what he would do next. Just to see if he would take the bait.

“Maybe I should take you some time then. Take the opportunity to get to know you properly,” he suggested, eyebrow raising in suggestion.

Oh wow. Hook, line, and sinker – she was intrigued.

“I could be up for that,” Luna replied simply, smiling innocently back, giving none of her racing thoughts away.

“Sounds like a date,” he grinned.

*

Thursday night

“So you’re really going out on a date with awkward bar guy?”

Luna glanced away from where she was putting on mascara in the mirror, frowning at her flatmate Elena standing in the doorway.

“Cale?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Weird name,” Elena snorted.

“Rude,” Luna shot back.

Elena just stuck her tongue out in retaliation, making Luna laugh. It wasn’t that Elena was acting strange or jealous – she was protective. The two girls had lived together since college, meeting freshman year and moving in with a group of friends in sophomore year. While everyone else had moved away or moved back home, they were the only two to stay in Denver and they knew each other well enough to not want to separate as well.

She and Elena were two peas in a pod, both outgoing and still loving the nightlife that their chosen city gave them, but still with that comforting balance of girls’ nights in; both sharing so much in common that Luna truly considered Elena to be her best friend. And to be honest, Luna couldn’t fault her friend for being overprotective; it wasn’t like her dating history was all that great, and it could never hurt to have a friend looking out for her. Especially when it came to meeting up with strangers.

“Look, he’s really cute and we’re meeting in a public place,” Luna pointed out, “And he was really dorky with his flirting. Even when he got a little smoother, that blush told me everything I need to know about how little he actually flirts around.”

Elena tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Not a fuckboy?” she asked.

“Not that I can tell. I’m pretty good at spotting a red flag like that,” Luna mused.

“And you normally run headfirst towards those red flags,” Elena teased.

Well that was unfairly true.

“Maybe meeting Cale is the break I’ve been looking for,” Luna said, shrugging.

“For your sake, Lu, I hope so,” Elena laughed.

In the week that had passed since she’d met Cale in the bar, having exchange numbers after talking over a couple of drinks, they���d texted here and there; mostly to confirm what day and time to meet for the dinner he’d romanticised about, but also tentatively getting to know each other. Luna hadn’t been lying when she said that she hadn’t spotted any signs of him being a fuckboy. He seemed sweet, and genuine, and even a little shy, which surprised her considering how attractive he was. Then again, it wasn’t like her to judge a book by its cover, so she was trying to keep an open mind about how such a hot broad-shouldered guy could be so modest.

To be honest, she was looking forward to finding out more in person this Thursday night.

Soon enough, she was happy enough with her appearance, smoothing her floaty silk dress over her curves – apparently their restaurant tonight had a dress code – and by the time she’d slipped into a cute pair of heels, her uber was outside.

“Have fun!” Elena grinned from where she was sat on their sofa, “Don’t forget – no glove, no love.”

“Oh my god, not on the first date,” Luna groaned, feeling her cheeks heat up at the ridiculous advice.

Elena just shrieked with laughter as Luna shut the door behind her, leaving her cheeks still burning as she headed towards the waiting uber. The drive to the restaurant was short, not giving her any time to get too nervous, even though she’d taken even precaution by not giving Cale her address and so on, and when the uber pulled to a stop, she smiled to herself as she noticed Cale already standing in the street.

But when she got out of the car, shutting the door behind her, she noticed that Cale looked frazzled, eyes a little wild, sending a pang of worry through her body. What the hell?

“Uh, hi?” she said, more than a little awkward as she waved hello.

“Hi!” he blurted out, although he didn’t look any less stressed.

“Is everything okay?” she frowned.

“The restaurant we were meant to go to, the one I’d made a booking with for tonight, is closed,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair.

“What?”

How had he been able to make a booking, if the place was closed?

Cale pointed just to the left of where they were standing, and it was only then that she noticed a couple of even-more-frazzled people standing out the front of a darkened restaurant, in the typical white shirts and black trousers of waiters, talking to people apologetically.

“What happened?” she frowned.

“A pipe burst,” he explained, making her groan in understanding, “It flooded the main dining area but also shorted out their booking system.”

“So they couldn’t contact anybody who had reservations for tonight,” she guessed.

“Exactly!” Cale nodded, before sighing, “I just wanted tonight to be perfect, to wine and dine you just as I said, and even that can’t go right.”

The poor guy looked miserable, genuinely upset as well as flustered at the thought of not taking her out on the date he’d promised her, and it made her heart ache a little. When was the last time she’d met such a sincere person?

“Hey, this isn’t your fault. And it’s definitely not their fault, so there’s nothing to blame here other than some shitty pipes?” Luna mused.

Cale huffed out a laugh, nodding his acknowledgement, making Luna smile as he smiled slightly too.

“Sorry for not texting you in time – I only got here a few minutes before you did, and I spent that time talking to the restaurant staff as they apologised,” he winced.

“No harm, no foul,” she laughed, shrugging, “Not all plans go smoothly.”

“Still…we can reschedule? I’ll find another restaurant for another time?” Cale offered.

“We can’t still go out tonight?” Luna asked, confused.

Unless he was trying to think of an excuse not to see her…

“I mean, I don’t think anywhere I wanted to take you will seat us tonight without a reservation,” he explained.

Oh.

Oh.

He really wanted to wine and dine her, didn’t he? Pull out all the stops, everything fancy?

“You know, I don’t need anything high-end to be on a date with you,” she pointed out, “I’d be happy somewhere really low-key.”

“Really? Even though we’re dressed up fancy?” Cale frowned.

Luna looked down at her silk dress and his nicely tailored charcoal grey suit, before shrugging. “So we may be the nicest dressed people in the next place, that doesn’t matter.”

Cale laughed softly, shaking his head fondly. “You might be the most chilled-out person I’ve ever met.”

“And you are adorably flustered over a restaurant reservation,” she teased, earning a fierce blush, “Come on, relax a little. It’ll be fun.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he insisted.

What a sweetheart. Still incredibly flustered, but sweet.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” she mused, earning a smile, “And I know just the place. Let me just text my flatmate about the change in plans.”

“Ah yeah, of course. Safety first!” he nodded seriously.

Could this guy be any more perfect? Really?

~

To: Elena

The restaurant has a burst pipe.

[image]

I’m going to take him to Tom’s diner down on Colfax.

~

To: Luna

Oh man, that sucks for the restaurant. But thanks for keeping me in the loop.

Hah oh wow, I bet he’ll love that place in his fancy suit.

~

To: Elena

How did you guess he was wearing a fancy suit?

~

To: Luna

I just got those vibes.

Fancy restaurant equals fancy suit.

But seriously, have fun!

And have a chocolate milkshake for me.

~

Luna smiled and tucked her phone back into her handbag, earning a smile from Cale.

“Is your flatmate okay with us changing location?” he asked.

His eyes were earnest, letting her know he wasn’t teasing in the slightest, allowing her to relax slightly. “Yeah, she’s glad I let her know. And she’ll be even happier that you understand that it’s important,” Luna nodded.

Cale just smiled a little wider, looking pleased with himself, making her laugh at his reaction.

“Ready to change things up?”

“I trust you. Can’t be worse than my attempt to take us out to dinner,” he winced.

“Alright, I’ll keep it a surprise then,” she grinned, “It’s not like you could’ve predicted a burst pipe.”

Cale just laughed, shrugging in an easy going way, Luna just smiling as she pulled her phone back out to pull up an uber request. Soon enough the two of them were on their way, and Cale’s eyes went wide when they eventually pulled to a stop.

“Oh man, you weren’t kidding about changing things up,” he said, smiling.

The smile let her know that he wasn’t put off by her casual choice, and she just waved goodbye to the uber driver as she stepped up next to him.

“I figured that a fancy place was off the cards tonight, so why not go for something comfy and casual,” she shrugged, “The food here is great and so are the vibes.”

“Can’t go wrong with that,” Cale grinned, opening the door to the diner for her.

Sure, they might’ve been the only people in the place in a fancy silk dress and effortlessly tailored suit, but that just made it more fun. Luna knew she looked good and she felt good in her dress, so what was wrong with that? It didn’t hurt that Cale looked amazing in his suit too, all the lines accentuating his incredible physique. And maybe tonight hadn’t gone as well as planned so far – but that wasn’t anything a chocolate milkshake couldn’t solve.

“So what’s good here?” Cale asked.

If he was put off by how sticky the table and menus are, he wasn’t showing it.

“Okay, get ready for the burger that will change your life.” Luna said, smiling.

*

Friday morning

To: Luna

Hey, are you free on Sunday?

~

To: Cale

For you Cale, absolutely.

What did you have in mind?

~

To: Luna

I thought it might be nice to visit Denver Botanic Gardens?

It’s meant to be really pretty there.

And I thought it might be good to try something different than dinner.

~

To: Cale

Dinner last week was great, even if not how you planned.

But a walk around the Gardens sounds good to me!

~

Sunday morning

Luna checked out her outfit one last time in the mirror before leaving to catch her bus to meet Cale. She’d decided on wearing a pretty blue sundress, dotted with tiny pale pink flowers – it had a mid-depth v-neck and cinched at her waist, more than enough to let her feel as feminine as she liked without feeling over the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, not like her silk dress from their first date last week, but it was still more than nice enough to show Cale that she’d made an effort.

Her dark brown hair was perfectly straightened, make-up simple but pretty, and her shoes were comfortable to walk around in – she was ready.

Elena wasn’t home right now to tease her or boost her confidence, either of which she could’ve used to distract her from the butterflies she felt in her stomach. All Luna could hope was that this would go smoother than their first date. All of their conversations over text had been so easy since the night of the restaurant fail three days ago, so she desperately wanted that to continue throughout their date today.

Different setting, different time of day, different vibe.

Positive thinking, right?

Thankfully her bus ride was fairly quiet, leaving her as relaxed as she possibly could be as she walked up to the entrance of the botanical gardens. Cale was waiting for her off to the side, and the wide smile he sent her when he spotted her walking towards him sent those butterflies going crazy again. Wow. He looked so good in his white polo shirt and jeans. How was it possible for anyone to make a polo-shirt look that good? His broad shoulders and defined chest filled it out so well, and it took all of her effort not to get caught staring at him.

“Hey, you look beautiful,” he said sweetly.

She laughed softly even as she felt her cheeks heat up with a blush. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Cale just grinned. “Good to know. Shall we?”

Luna tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as he offered it to her, trying to tamper down the giddy feeling rising in her chest. What a gentleman.

The next few hours were spent arm in arm, walking and talking, everything going to smoothly that it felt like she was floating through a dream. The botanic gardens were incredible, she had to give him extra points there for how pretty everything was, and she loved that she was experiencing it all with him. Strolling around the Monet Pond with Cale by her side? Win. Hushed conversation through the Shofu-en Japanese garden? Win. Everything from the orangery to the iris garden to the oak grove, they wandered through and around it all for hours and hours, just talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company on this beautiful day.

The whole vibe was so incredibly different to their first date, completely different atmosphere, and she loved that she got to see this side of him too. His easy laugh, warm smile, and attentive listening was winning her over quicker than she ever thought possible, if she was being honest with herself, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at ease with a guy this quickly. It was everything she’d been wanting for so long, and she almost felt like pinching herself to see if it was all real.

But all good things had to come to an end.

One moment sunlight was streaming down warming their skin, and the next dark cloud cover had rolled out over the blue sky, a gusting wind picking up. Before Luna could even voice her wonder to Cale, a deluge began, rain hammering down in a way that momentarily stunned them both, before they quickly ducked under a tree as refuge.

“What the hell,” Luna gasped, clutching her handbag to her chest, trying not to think about how her dress was sticking to her skin.

Cale still looked stunned, eyes wide as he watched the pouring rain in front of them, before he seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. “Let’s make a run for the gift shop?” he said, pointing to a building in the distance.

“Good idea!”

Luna found herself smiling as Cale took her hand, the two of them wasting no time in breaking into a light jog through the lilac garden, unable to talk as they went because of how heavily the rain was battering down. By the time they eventually reached the visitor center, far from the only people sheltering inside, Luna was completely drenched from head to toe, her dress soaked through and her hair a sopping mess.

Of all the things – a freak heavy rain shower. What were the chances?

Cale guided the two of them to the far side of the gift shop, an illusion of privacy, before stopping to stand in front of her.

“Are you okay?” Cale asked, pushing his dripping hair off his forehead.

She tried to ignore how disappointed she felt when he let her hand go.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine! Not what I expected to happen today, but fine,” she laughed, “Are you okay?”

“Other than another date going awry, sure,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Two dates in a row where original plans have gone wrong,” Luna mused.

“This has never happened to me before. I swear!” Cale groaned.

“Cale, relax – it’s not like you could control any of it? You literally couldn’t predict that pipe bursting in the restaurant, and you certainly can’t control the weather,” she teased.

“I know, I know,” he laughed, making her smile in return, “I just want something to run smoothly for once, to make a good impression with you, you know?”

Well that was sweet.

“You’ve already made a good impression, I promise. Dressing up all fancy to eat in a diner was a memorable first date,” Luna insisted, laughing softly, “And what we had of this second date was good too…up until we got soaked.”

He winced, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Shall we do a rain check then? No pun intended.”

As much as she would’ve liked to have continued on with the date, like they had the first time that their original date plan had failed, this time she was soaked to the bone and so unbelievably uncomfortable. And she dreaded to think what her mascara looked like.

“Definitely reschedule. Maybe an indoor one next time just in case?” she mused.

“Yeah that sounds like a good idea,” he said, laughing again, although his cheeks flooded with a fierce blush, “Can I at least give you a ride home so you’re not sitting on the bus soaking wet?”

Oh what a sweetheart.

And absolutely what she needed.

“That would be great,” she nodded.

Elena was going to get a real laugh out of this date, that was for sure.

*

Thursday night

“I can’t say I was expecting you to suggest this for our third date.”

Cale just laughed, nodding his acknowledgement as she waved goodbye to her uber driver, moving to stand by his side.

“I know, it’s not my usual. But I heard good things about this place anyway? One of my neighbours goes out in this area a fair bit and this is one of the bars she always talks about in the elevator,” Cale explained.

He hadn’t waited to ask her out after their failed-date in the rainy botanic gardens – the moment that he pulled up outside her apartment building, he’d asked her to go out with him again, somewhere ‘indoors’ this time as she’d teased. After tentatively suggesting Thursday night then and there, Luna leaving him with a kiss on the cheek, he’d texted her the next morning with a plan, leaving the two of them to resume their easy conversation just like before.

As their date drew nearer that Thursday night, Luna had kept things casual with her outfit again, at Cale’s suggestion, wearing a pretty white blouse over her favourite black jeans, pairing it with a pair of pretty silver hoops, black leather jacket and her comfy black ankle boots. Simple but again it left her feeling confident, which shone through to add that little extra edge. While she had gotten herself ready for the evening, she’d drank a glass of wine with Elena, her flatmate sitting on the end of Luna’s bed to tease and support her, a much-needed girl’s time while she dressed and put on her make-up, so by the time her uber pulled up outside the bar that Cale had suggested, her butterflies were in full effect.

Despite the fact that their two dates so far had each failed to a certain degree, she was still excited to spend the time with him, desperately hoping that for this date things would just run smoothly. She deserved that much, right?

“Hey Cale!” she said with a big smile, as she walked up to where he was waiting for her.

“Hey Luna,” he replied sweetly.

As she leant up to kiss his cheek in greeting, just as she had on Sunday afternoon when he drove her home in the rain, his cheeks flushed a vivid red, only making her smile even wider. If that reaction was anything to go by, he was just as excited to see her as she was to see him, which could only be a good thing.

“It’s good to see you again. I haven’t been here before, but I know there’s definitely indoor seating,” he mused, a playful nod to their interrupted outing four days ago.

“So you haven’t been here yourself?” she teased.

Cale blushed slightly again but shook his head, making her laugh. She already knew he wasn’t a bar person – he’d admitted as much the first time they met. So why now?

“Why a bar tonight then?” she asked curiously, eyeing the expanse of outdoor bench seating and music drifting out from inside the building.

“It’s a pretty casual place, rather than the intensity of the bar we first met in?”

Well that answers that question.

“…and I know you feel comfortable in these situations so I thought I’d push the boat out since my last two attempts didn’t work out well?” he offered.

“That’s really sweet, Cale,” she said, smiling softly, “But I don’t want to be comfortable at your expense. If it gets too much at any point, let me know? I’d hate for you to feel completely out of sorts.”

“Deal,” he nodded, smiling in relief as the two of them finally made their way towards the entrance, “We can do easy low-key drinks, right?”

“Definitely,” Luna replied, laughing.

Cale just smiled a little wider, holding open the door of the bar for her. Immediately she was hit with the familiar scents and sounds and vibe of a well-loved local bar, and she quickly relaxed. He was right – this was definitely her preferred social scene, and the fact that he was willing to be here with her, trying out the bar that was new to both of them? That made her heart beat just that little bit further, she could admit that.

Somehow they managed to snag a table in the corner, leaving her with a view of the entire room and Cale with his back to everyone, both of them comfortable with the situation. It was far from the fanciest place – definitely far from the bar that they’d met in those couple of weeks ago – but it was busy and comforting and had a great vibe. Luna was honestly excited to see how this evening went, eager to see him in this kind of setting, and she loved that he was trying to do something she felt comfortable with. Hopefully it wouldn’t come at the cost of his own comfort, but time would only tell.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asked, resting his forearms on their small table.

Luna happily asked for a glass of wine, figuring it was probably safer to stick with what she’d already started drinking at home, and soon enough he returned from the bar. They eased into conversation as easily as they always did, talking about their week so far, stress from their workplaces, ridiculous stories about Elena and Luna’s work colleagues as well as Cale’s own colleagues. Speaking of colleagues…Cale also finally told her about his job. About the fact that he was a hockey player in the NHL. It blew her mind a little that he had even looked her way that first night in the bar, that he was still interested in little old her, but she could tell that as much as he was trying to downplay his career to her, he was so incredibly proud of everything he’d achieved. Which, yeah, maybe she should’ve recognised him or at least his name from the Cup Championship last year – but to be honest, she was a football fan (go Broncos!) and had never seen a hockey game in her life. For some reason, that admission eased out a line of tension in his shoulders that she hadn’t realised was there, easing her guilt a little for not knowing who he was. If Cale – Cale Makar – wanted to keep his career low-key with her for the moment, then she was absolutely happy to let him do that. It just showed her yet again how much of a genuinely low-maintenance chilled-out guy he was, and it only made her like him more.

One drink turned into two, Luna buying the second round seeing as he bought the first. As she sat back down at their table, she launched into the details of the trip she was planning in the summer to go back home to see her family, Cale admitting he would be doing the same for the first time in a while. Easy, breezy, fun conversation as always. People ebbed and flowed from the bar, filling up the room beside them, but it felt like they were in their own bubble, nothing mattering outside their little table. How did things feel so easy with him, after only a matter of weeks? It felt crazy, if she was being honest with herself, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

Halfway through the third round of drinks though – he bought this round, taking things in turn again – someone cleared their throat into a microphone, snapping Luna’s attention across the room. What the hell?

“Testing, testing, one, two, three.”

Oh no.

Everything had been going so well…

“Alright, welcome back to Thursday nights at Tavern on 26th! Who’s ready for karaoke?”

Karaoke.

Fuck.

Luna quickly looked over at Cale, who had gone white as a sheet and looked horrified.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, grimacing.

“Not a clue. I’ve never been here before!” he groaned, “And my neighbour has never said anything about karaoke!”

Luna couldn’t help but laugh, a little resigned already. “Well it is our luck, I suppose.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad?” Cale offered.

“Up first, Miranda with Total Eclipse of the Heart!”

Maybe not.

As the wailing voice started out across the room, a pained look flashed across Cale’s face, making Luna laugh again. “Shall we get out of here?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” Cale said, sighing softly, “Sorry.”

“Hey.”

Luna rested her hand lightly on his forearm, smiling softly as he looked down at her.

“Not your fault. You didn’t know,” she shrugged.

“I should’ve looked it up? Checked out the bar’s event page?”

“Who does that for a low-key bar, eh?” she mused. “Why don’t we just go for a walk?”

“So much for third time lucky,” he said dryly, grimacing as the chorus started.

Damn, this ‘Miranda’ was clearly heartbroken and at least one bottle of wine down. At least.

“Date’s not over yet,” she said simply, “Just because we don’t want to stay in this bar, doesn’t mean we can’t keep talking on a walk, right?”

“You are too forgiving,” he said, huffing out a laugh.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied. “Now let’s get out of here before the key change.”

“Oh fuck yes,” he laughed.

He held a hand out to help her up from their table, Luna gladly taking it, smiling to herself as Cale didn’t let go. As he threaded their fingers together, she felt an unfamiliar blush settling dusting across her cheeks, Cale smiling down at her. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Another date plan fail.

Hopefully the walk would salvage what was left of it, the alcohol in her system making her not want to leave him just yet. But as he said, it was third time unlucky – was that a sign? What was the universe trying to tell her, in making the plans for their third date come to an abrupt fail? As much as his smile gave her butterflies, could she really ignore all of these signs?

For this evening, she absolutely could, she knew that much. Holding his hand while they walked out of the bar felt too good not to.

*

Friday morning

To: Luna

Hey, I’m sorry about last night.

Again.

Can I make it up to you?

~

To: Cale

No apologies! The bar was fun…before the terrible karaoke.

But I’d love to see you again?

~

To: Luna

Fourth time lucky, right?

How do you feel about going on a picnic on Sunday?

~

To: Cale

I can’t remember the last time I went on a picnic.

I’d love to.

~

To: Luna

Okay great!

Leave everything to me.

I’ll pick you up at midday?

~

To: Cale

Okay sure, sounds like a plan!

~

Sunday midday

For once, Luna was driving her old car to their date today – she rarely drove, usually preferring public transport, mainly due to the lack of decent public car parking available in downtown where she spent a lot of her time, but Cale had already promised her that the park he’d chosen had plenty of parking spaces, leaving her able to sing along to the radio as she drove, calming her nerves a bit.

Sure, she’d decided to wear a pretty green dress, floaty and low-cut but still cute, curling her hair to give herself that extra boost of confidence. Sure, Elena had let her borrow her comfy white sneakers, keeping the outfit casual. And sure, she’d even had the chance to facetime with Cale yesterday before his game in Minnesota, knowing they wouldn’t get a chance to speak before their date today. But it was Elena’s hesitant words that had left the usual butterflies feeling a little frantic.

A picnic in a park? The two of you are chancing the outdoors again with your luck?

Because Elena wasn’t wrong. Three dates they’d been on now, and not a single one had gone by without a fail. The pipe burst in the restaurant. The unexpected rainstorm in the botanic gardens. The sudden karaoke in the bar. She could only wonder what today would bring, even as much as Elena tried to hype her up with positive attitude.

As she pulled into the parking lot, spotting Cale easily with his cheery smile and wave, she tried to let all of the worries go. Cale wanted to be here on this date with her. He wanted to be with her, which should be enough in itself, right? Fourth time lucky, that’s what he joked. She could only hope he was right.

“Hey, glad you made it okay,” Cale said, smiling as she locked the car behind her.

“Old Betsy may be getting on in life but she still gets me around,” Luna laughed, shrugging.

“You named your car Old Betsy?” he teased.

Luna fought back the blush on her cheeks. “What, you haven’t named your car?”

“I can’t say that I have…”

From there, their conversation started up as naturally as always, Luna smiling as they walked through the park, glad that there wasn’t too much of a crowd yet, letting him lead her to a shaded area under a tree. Perfect.

“I packed a few things for us – I hope they’re all okay?”

As Cale spread out the blanket he’d had tucked under his arm, Luna opened up the picnic basket he’d been holding, eyes wide as she took in all the tubs inside.

Mini vegetable tarts. Chicken salad. Sliced strawberries and kiwis. Double chocolate brownies. Freshly squeezed orange juice from a deli. If she was being honest, Luna was a little blown away at the thought he’d put into this picnic basket, and she knew by the little smile on Cale’s face that he was pleased with himself – as he should be.

“This looks amazing, Cale. Wow,” she murmured, still a little stunned.

“I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” he mused.

Luna just laughed, shaking her head. If nothing else, the effort would win out over anything else – no-one had ever tried so hard to make sure she was happy. She sat down with her legs crossed, facing him as he pulled out the various tubs as well as cutlery, leaving the napkins in the basket for now, smiling at how happy he looked. He really was so cute, wasn’t he?

“Dig in, please!”

Well he didn’t have to tell her twice.

Between bites of food, talking about their last few days apart including the game that Cale scored the winning goal on, as well as people watching and cooing over cute dogs, the next couple of hours passed easily. Luna found herself basking in Cale’s happy smile, sweet and shy all at once, all of her earlier worries melting away. Here was an amazing guy, who’d planned an amazing date, and everything was perfect. The whole date was perfect, from the location to the relaxed atmosphere, and she couldn’t help the wide smile on her face. Finally. Finally.

Eventually, after they’d faux-battled with their forks for the last strawberry, Cale packed all of the tubs away in the basket, letting them both stretch out their legs across the blanket.

“I can’t believe how full I am,” Luna groaned.

“Me too,” Cale laughed, resting a hand on his stomach, “I may have overdone it with that last brownie.”

“So worth it though,” she grinned.

Cale just grinned back, nodding his agreement. A man who appreciated food – she could definitely appreciate that.

Luna tilted her head back for a brief moment, closing her eyes as she let the sun wash over her and sink into her skin, before she opened her eyes again. Out of the corner of her eye, a large black object flew across her vision, and just as she turned her head to see what it was, she saw it collide with Cale’s face with a crunch.

And then blood started pouring down his face.

Oh god, a drone. A drone had hit him smack in the face, and the crunch wasn’t just the plastic either. Fuck.

“Fuck,” Cale groaned, clutching at his face with wide eyes as he unknowingly echoed her thoughts.

What the hell?!

Without hesitating, Luna pulled out the bundle of napkins from the picnic basket, quickly passing them to him, and he wasted no time in pressing them to his nose with a wince. Oh shit. Oh shit, he was really injured, what the hell was this? Of all the things to happen, even with their track record, this was terrible. Fuck, poor Cale.

“Oh man I am so sorry, a dog ran into me and I lost control…”

The apologetic voice trailed off, just as the two of them looked up.

“Oh god no, I broke Cale Makar,” the man gasped.

Shit. A fan. Now she could see why Cale wanted to keep his career so low-key with her – attention like this really wasn’t what he enjoyed, not in this kind of setting. She could only hope this wouldn’t get plastered all over the internet; they’d spoken before on how much social media could drag people down, and that was the last thing she wanted for him, especially because they were on a date. But what could she do?

Cale winced, shaking his head. “Really, it’s fine. Doesn’t feel broken.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, not believing him in the slightest, but stayed quiet for Cale’s sake. If he wanted to make a fan feel better then that was his choice – and fair enough, the guy looked distraught – but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make sure he had it looked at properly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” she said lightly, smiling as genuinely as she could.

“Good idea,” Cale nodded, voice muffled through the tissues.

The guy apologised profusely again as they stood up, Cale just waving him off as Luna picked up the basket and blanket, and they started to walk back through the park towards the parking lot. She could see people stopping and staring at them, not just because of the blood staining his white t-shirt, each time Cale’s shoulders stiffening a little more, him looking more and more uncomfortable as they made their escape. Finally, when their path was a little clearer, almost at the exit, she took the chance to glance up at him, feeling a pang of sympathy at how miserable he looked as he held the bloody tissues to his nose.

“Hospital then?”

“No, definitely not,” he groaned, shaking his head, only making her frown.

Why was he being difficult?

“Cale, you really should have that looked at,” she said hesitantly.

“Oh, no, shit, yeah I will, you’re right about that. I just think maybe it might be better to go to the medical staff at the arena? I know there’s some of them working today, and it’ll avoid any fans taking photos.”

That made much more sense.

“Fair enough,” she mused, trying not to grimace at the fact he had to take publicity into account. “I’ll drive us, yeah? I guess you can send someone to pick up your car later?”

Cale just nodded, wincing again, making Luna grimace in sympathy. Thankfully she hadn’t parked too far away from where they’d walked in, and in no time at all, she was buckling her seatbelt, waiting for Cale to do the same before she started the engine of her old car.

“Do you want to call and give a heads up that you’re coming in? So that we’re not held up at the gate?” she suggested, pulling up directions on her own phone.

“Another good idea. You have a lot of those,” Cale nodded, “Shame that I don’t.”

What?

She frowned to herself before his words clicked in her head. Another date gone wrong.

“A picnic was a great idea, okay? Getting hit in the face by a drone wasn’t part of your plan at all and, again, nothing you could’ve predicted,” Luna said firmly.

The last thing she wanted was for him to blame himself. Again.

“I have the worst luck,” he laughed dryly.

Well, yes, it really did seem that way. But she wasn’t going to say that out loud.

“All the food was really nice?” she offered.

Cale laughed for real this time, sliding his phone back into his pocket now that his messages were sent. “Can’t go wrong with strawberries and kiwis together.”

“Right? Perfectly sweet,” she nodded.

“I might have to see if I can recreate those vegetable tarts myself too,” he added.

The hopeful look on his face, that she could see out of the corner of her eye, made her smile, relaxing into her seat as she navigated the street in front of her. This positive attitude was much more like it – and he wasn’t wrong about those tarts either.

“They were so good! You’ll have to let me know if you can find a matching recipe,” she grinned.

She quickly glanced at Cale, finding him grinning back at her, through the blood and tissues still covering his face. At least he didn’t look as miserable as he had done in the park – that was at least a silver lining on the epic fail this date turned into.

Fuck, what was their luck, seriously?

As she dropped him off at the arena gates, several members of training staff waiting their anxiously for him, it was all she could do to squeeze his hand goodbye as he promised to call her, a heavy ominous weight sitting in her stomach. Why did things always have to go so wrong around him?

*

Friday night

“Hey, how do I look?” Luna asked Elena, leaning in her doorway, “Is this date-night-at-home suitable?”

She was wearing a light-knit dress, long-sleeved with the skirt reaching just below her knee, clinging to her curves in the most comfortable flattering way possible. The soft grey material felt right for a meal indoors, her dark brown hair falling in gentle waves in a way that added to the whole vibe, and she could only hope Cale liked it too. She knew she looked good…but was it the right choice?

“Well, you look as hot as always…but really? You’re going on a fifth attempt at a date with Fail Makar?”

Fail Makar. Ouch.

Technically not wrong, but ouch.

This Friday was not Luna’s usual Friday night. Instead of her typical night out at a bar with friends, she was trying something new. Both her and Cale were – rather than going out, Cale was making them a home-cooked meal. After insisting that the trainers had cleared him from serious injury, going as far to promise that he was still okay to play in the two games over the days that followed, he’d asked her out on another date.

Luna had been hesitant, naturally. Not because she didn’t like him, not because she wasn’t attracted to him – both of those he pulled out of her in spades – but because of everything that had happened over their past four dates. She was only mildly superstitious in general, but even she couldn’t deny that there was some serious bad luck surrounding them so far. How bad was she going to let it get before it was irreparable?

But when he had suggested a date night in, him cooking for them, she hadn’t been able to say no. She was so desperate to make this work with him, the sweetest most genuine guy she’d ever met, that she knew she’d have to give him another chance to have a date run smoothly. That didn’t mean it was fun to hear from her friend.

“Don’t be mean,” she frowned.

“Don’t ignore the cosmos and karma and all that jazz,” Elena shot back, raising her eyebrows.

Luna sighed, but nodded. It wasn’t as if she’d been ignoring the signs herself.

“I’m giving it one more chance, or I really will have to accept that this is fate telling me that things with Cale really aren’t meant to be,” she admitted.

Elena’s expression shifted from judgemental to sympathetic. “Hey, I know you like this guy, okay? I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. And I appreciate that. I just really want this to work out,” Luna sighed.

Cale had kept texting her while the team trainer took a look at his nose – it wasn’t broken, thankfully, but he did have a nasty bruise, which she’d been stupid enough to look through the speculation on the internet before Elena took her phone away to stop her looking at social media. She couldn’t help the guilt she felt for the extra attention on him, attention she knew he hated, even though she knew that she wasn’t directly responsible for the vivid bruising on his face. That didn’t mean it was easy to read all the stupid rumours sprouting out about what could’ve caused it, seeing as there was no evidence of him being hit in a game or practice.

But there wasn’t anything she could do about. All she could hope was that this attempt to get a date to go smoothly for once wouldn’t be their last one – she just didn’t know how much more she could take.

“Well if a stripped-back, low-key, homecooked meal doesn’t work then I don’t know what will,” Elena mused, “If you need an escape at any time, you just text or call me, okay?”

“I will,” she nodded, smiling. That was the friend she knew and loved. “But I have a good feeling about this date.”

“I can only hope you’re right, for your sake.”

Again, Luna had decided to drive for this date, mainly at Elena’s insistence to give herself an out if she needed it, but she only hoped that she didn’t need it. Maybe she’d make sure to only have one glass of wine, just in case.

By the time she’d arrived at the address Cale had given her, parking in the private apartment parking lot, she’d relaxed enough to feel a lot more positive about the evening ahead of her. Cale was a great guy. They would have a good night, she was sure of it. Why should she let the past four fails dictate how this night was going to go as well? As she walked up to his apartment, Cale having buzzed her in like he’d been waiting at the door, she steeled her nerves and untensed her shoulders. He was letting her see a side of him that no-one ever did outside of his team – and maybe not even all of them. Welcoming her into his home? That was special, and she was determined to embrace it.

“Hey,” she said, smiling as he opened the door.

“Hey!” he said happily, stepping aside to let her inside, “You look incredible.”

Flattery, as always. She couldn’t deny that she welcomed it though.

“Thanks! And thanks for inviting me over,” she said simply.

He shut the door behind her, helping her slip off her light jacket, and hung it up on the hooks next to their heads. It was a relief to see that the bruising on his face had almost completely faded, just as he said it had – even though he’d insisted it wasn’t as bad as it had first looked, seeing it for herself fizzled away the last of that guilt.

“It’s really good to see you. Thank you for giving me another chance,” Cale said softly, “I know things haven’t exactly gone how I’d hoped so far.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had so much bad luck either,” she mused.

She winced as Cale winced himself, biting her bottom lip lightly.

“I really don’t want to mess things up tonight,” he murmured.

Her heart panged a little at the nerves in his voice, hating that she was glad he felt as nervous as he did. It was a good sign that he cared so much, right?

“We can only see how the evening goes, right?” she said simply, smiling as reassuringly as she could, “I’m happy I’m here with you, if that counts for anything.”

As Cale smiled, she noticed how relieved he looked, making her smile in turn. “It definitely counts for a lot. Um, dinner is all ready, it’s just warming in the oven. And I’ve set up our date just through here.”

Cale guided her out of her entry hallway into the open-plan living room, dining room, kitchen, a gentle hand on her back, pausing in the doorway. Oh wow. As she took in the room with lips parted in surprise, her mind drifted back to the words he’d said to her the very first night they’d met.

~

“Somewhere quieter to appreciate someone? Like what?” she asked, smile curling at her lips, playing along with his flirting.

“A private intimate dinner. Maybe a little light music, just to set the mood. Candlelight, flowers, excellent wine.”

~

It was all here – candles lit around the room, beautiful yellow roses in a vase on the counter, soft music playing from the kitchen that drifted into the dining area. A private intimate dinner – complete with excellent wine, in the glasses he now held in his hands. She hadn’t even realised he’d left her side, too caught up with her memories.

“My god, Cale,” she murmured, “this is amazing.”

“Yeah?” he said shyly.

“Yeah, it is. Exactly how you described your forte location, when we first met,” she said, still in awe as he handed her a glass.

He huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“Of course I do. It was one of the things that intrigued me most,” she admitted, making his blush softly, “And then I got to know you even more.”

Cale’s blush deepened but so did his smile.

“I hope I can keep getting to know you, Luna. I know our dates have failed pretty spectacularly so far, but I really like you. I’ve never met anyone as amazing as you before,” he said softly.

Her lips parted at his earnest words, Cale’s eyes watching her intensely, and it was all she could do to take a quick sip of wine. Damn, it really was excellent. He really liked her? Like, really really? Wow. Even after everything, he was happy to be so open with his thoughts and feelings?

“I really like you too. And I really want this to work,” she said seriously, “I just…hope tonight doesn’t have the same bad luck.”

“Me too. The flowers are for you, by the way, to take home with you. And I cooked one of my staple recipes which hasn’t gone wrong so far, and the candles haven’t burned down the apartment while I was getting ready, so it feels pretty good so far?” he said sheepishly.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, forcing down her doubts, letting his increasingly-familiar comforting presence soothe her. So far so good, right? He had pulled out all the stops, recreated their attempted first date in a safe-space setting, and she could definitely appreciate that. The fact that he was letting her see this side of him too, this vulnerable intimate portion of his life? She’d be a fool not to embrace it.

“Shall we?” she said, tilting her head towards the kitchen.

“Absolutely,” Cale nodded.

While Cale pulled out the covered dishes from the oven and plated them all up, Luna sipped at her wine, watching him intently. He seemed so in his element, relaxed in a way she’d never seen him before, and she had to admit that she liked seeing him like this. Maybe this was what they’d been missing, that comforting edge. She could only hope.

“Okay, ready.”

Cale’s cheerful declaration broke her out of her gaze, and she immediately smiled at him.

“It smells amazing, Cale,” she said happily, letting him lead her into the dining area as he carried both plates while she held their drinks.

“Can’t go wrong with coq au vin!” he said simply, although his cheeks were dusted with a pleased blush, “And I made garlic mashed potatoes as well as roasted green beans to go with it.”

Wow.

Just wow.

“Incredible,” she murmured.

Cale just laughed softly, shaking his head as he sat down at the table.

“I like cooking, you know? It’s something that so different to everything else I do, gets me out of my head when I’m stressed with hockey,” he explained.

“I can definitely understand that. How long have you been cooking like this? Because this, and I can tell you this now with sincerity, isn’t just amateur,” Luna mused.

That blush of his really was something. But as he started talking about when he started cooking, mostly with his mom and family, their usual easy conversation started to flow, allowing Luna to sink into the relaxed atmosphere. She shared some of her own family cooking stories with him when he asked, the two of them continuing to talk as they ate, laughing and smiling the whole time, and to be honest Luna couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a date like this. With anyone. It was everything she’d dreamed of, everything she’d ever wanted from the food to the conversation to the vibe in general, and the more that she was consumed by it all, she forgot all about her worries that had built up over the past week.

How could she have doubts about him, when he made her feel so at ease?

After they’d finished eating, Luna helping Cale load the dishes into the dishwasher for later, they moved to the sofa with a glass of sparkling water each, Cale insisting on not drinking now that she’d stopped too. Honestly it felt like a dream. Where had this guy been all her life?

She lost track of time while they continued to talk and laugh on the sofa, the music still playing softly in the background like a damn movie, and before she knew it, the evening was drawing close to midnight, and she needed to get going before she gave into temptation and stayed overnight. That was far too soon for their tentative relationship, she knew that much.

“Did we just have a date that went smoothly?” Cale mused, as he helped her back into her jacket.

Luna laughed but nodded her head. “I think we did.”

Her grin matched his, and she didn’t care if she looked silly because she was just so damn happy. Finally, fucking finally, their date hadn’t failed. The universe had finally worked in her favour, giving her a perfect date with a perfect guy, and she knew that despite everything, the wait had been worth it.

“Call me when you get home? Just so I know you’re safe?” he asked softly.

Those wide earnest eyes were going to be her ruin, she could tell. Fuck it. Here goes nothing.

“Only if you kiss me goodnight before I leave,” Luna said hopefully, far braver than she felt.

Cale’s lips parted in surprise, only briefly, before that familiar sweet smile spread across his face with a blush to match. He didn’t reply to her, just stepping forward to lean down towards her, one hand rising to cup her face just as his lips touched hers. Luna couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped her mouth at the gentle touch, hands clutching at his shirt as they kissed slowly, sweetly, sending tingles down her spine. Wow. So incredibly worth the wait. After what felt like hours but could only have been minutes, Cale slowed the kiss down to a few last gentle pecks, lifting his head away from her with a stunned smile.

“Best date ever,” he said happily.

She couldn’t agree more.

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