#Alex usually calls him crazy for ever thinking that questions like that will ever be followed by being asked out on a daye

[bloodbathfortwo]

Nigel and Alex have their rare moments of intimacy behind closed doors. Lingering touches, and blazing warmth.

[disneyprincemuke]

be mine * gr63

your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself

pairings: george russell x fem!reader

warnings: cussing

notes: ooooh wrote this at like 3am lfg!! i also started to obsess about alex albon?? yoooo that man is so fine i swear to god…

(sex) // (be mine)

it’s not all that different — not seeing you every couple of days like he used to.

george, however, does let you cross his mind a couple times a week when he’s not busy. it’s usually when he’s left in a corner with his thoughts. the way your eyes looked into his and how your dimples would show before your smile consumed him in a way he couldn’t describe.

he realised about a week after he last saw you that alex knew about your prior arrangement. alex didn’t elaborate on anything, simply just let george know that he was aware.

your name never came up in conversation again.

well, once when lily came to visit during a race weekend and was wondering why you refused to attend. and the girl did also question why george has been looking so upset in the recent days. all he could do was exchange a glance with alex and come up with a pathetic excuse.

sometimes he thinks he’s seen your face in the crowd by the paddocks, but it’s always just his imagination. so when he looked around the paddock 30 minutes ago and thought he had heard your voice, he simply brushed it off as another one of his delusions.

until he saw you again. not once, but four more times.

he’s not going crazy, is he?

george quickly rules out insanity when he sees you a fifth time in the williams garage having a conversation with logan. and you look good; perhaps the best he has ever seen you.

not to say that you looked bad before. there’s just a different glow to you that he can’t seem to figure out.

it was when logan greeted him with the call of his name and a wave that made you whirl your head around to finally look at him.

surprisingly, you do acknowledge his presence. you smile widely at him and give him a simple wave. and then your turn back around to continue your conversation.

george just walks away. he contemplated coming up to you and having a chat, but with the way things had ended that night, he decided it was better off.

meanwhile, your heart races in your chest as you resume your conversation with logan. you knew the repercussions of tagging along but you clearly hadn’t figured out completely how to face him.

you promised yourself, a few days prior, that you were ready to face george despite everything. you didn’t have it all mapped out like you had promised alex, but you can’t admit that to him.

at this point, you find yourself straying from the once engaging chat with logan. george is what took over your brain.

it seems that he took the hint as he pats your shoulder and bids you goodbye, claiming that he has some marketing activity to do.

you have thought of george in times of separation. it’s hard not to when he’s practically everywhere — your social media timelines, alex’s story and advertisements. it’s impossible to erase him from your life.

which is why you really tried to get it together while you were gone.

but the privilege of figuring out what to finally say to george will never come, it seems, as lily takes logan’s spot. she puts her hands on her hips and glares at you sternly.

“when are you going to talk to him?” lily questions with an eyebrow raise. “the day is almost over.”

you look down at your hands to avoid her intense stare. “i don’t know what to say to him… i gave him some bullshit excuse the last time i saw him.”

you hear lily sigh. you watch her take a step to lean on the wall. “and you came with us this weekend to finally debunk everything,” she reminds you slowly in hopes to keep you in check. “he won’t stay single forever, you know.”

“i know.” you lift your head up to showcase your frown. “but how can he still want this if i’d told him that the nights we spent together meant nothing to me?”

“i don’t know, but neither will you if you don’t talk to him.”

that’s all lily needed to say to you. you find yourself being pushed by an imaginary lily muni to the mercedes home in the paddocks.

as fate would have it, george is walking out of the glass doors, parting ways with lewis. he does acknowledge you like you did with him earlier.

except it’s a much shorter greeting. it’s a simple elegant smile, almost making you feel the hurt seeping through, before making a sharp turn away from you.

“george, hi.” somehow, you had found a voice from within you to call out to him. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

he stops on his tracks, slowly turning to face you. “hi.” he takes off the sunglasses sitting on his face and gives you a more genuine smile. this time, sending waves of familiarity through your chest. “how long has it been- 4… maybe 5 months?”

you nod slowly, the awkwardness of the exchange finally making itself known. “yeah, i’ve been busy with work.”

his eyebrow raises. “yeah? that’s incredibly coincidental. i was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

sure, he is admittedly still upset with you. only a little bit. but how was he supposed to react when you gave him the stupidest reasons why he can’t take you out on a date?

what the actual fuck did you mean by ‘it’s just sex’ before bolting off and never showing up ever again?

you sigh and drop your head. “i mean, i was.” you can almost hear him rolling his eyes when you see him shift his weight to one leg and a hand rests on his hip. you lift your head up and quickly come to your own defense. “for good reason.”

“in what world did you think saying that would make me feel better?” george narrows his eyes down at you, an expression you never come across too often personally. “i asked you out on a date when i last saw you and you blew me off as if we hadn’t already seen each other bare.”

you close your eyes briefly and hold your hands up, attempting to calm him down. you just wanted to explain yourself, that’s all.

“if you would just let me explain myself, i want to start off with an apology.” you search his eyes for any signs of pulling away, and when you conclude that he is willing to stay and listen, you continue. “alex was right before when he told me to get my shit together if i wanted to date you.”

george’s lips carve into a scowl. you can almost imagine what he’s going to say next. “alex?”

“yes. i admitted to him our little arrangement but when he advised me not to hurt you, i realised he was right,” you frown, your own eyebrows furrowing in sadness. you fold your arms over your chest and rub your arms as you feel the cold sweat from the nerves of laying your cards down.

“i wanted to go on a date with you so bad, please trust me. but with all of my baggage, you didn’t deserve someone who would only give you half of themself,” you explain.

this makes george relax his shoulders a little bit. he is more used to you being a person of very few words and emotions. to have you ramble on to him in a shaky voice and watch your lips quiver is enough to make him forget the hurt he was feeling just mere minutes ago.

“i didn’t want to be with you and only have half of my foot in,” you say. “all of those nights i spent with you, they meant everything to me. i loved sleeping over with you in your bed and waking up to the sound of you humming to yourself while your brushed your teeth.

“and i’m just sorry. i’m sorry that i told you it meant nothing. it wasn’t just the sex to me. you’re not just that.” with every word, your frustration grew as you realise how stupid you had been; how careless you were with george’s feelings while trying to protect it. “you’re more than that, i know it.”

you open your mouth to continue your sentence, until you realise that he’s just been staring down at you throughout your whole monologue. this time with a small grin to his face and his cheeks slightly red.

you take a step back and put your hands down to your side. “what i’m trying to say is that i would like to get to know you better.” you clear your throat with a sheepish grin. “if you allow me.”

george, who had been picking on his phone’s exterior, puts it into his pocket. he folds his arms over his chest. “(y/n), even then i knew all your baggage,” he starts with a soft chuckle. “i asked you out on a date despite all that.”

“my conscience never would have been able to live with it.”

“i appreciate it, and i guess your heart was in the right place.” he takes a step forward and engulfs you in a hug, rubbing your arms as a way to convey that he understands. “but i would have let you break my heart over and over again if it meant that i could be the one to have you.”

you lift your head to look up at him. “isn’t that a tad dramatic for how little we know of each other, george?”

george just forcefully pushes your head back into his chest, this time with his hand brushing through your hair.

“i can’t believe you lied to me and broke my heart over something i was already well aware of.”

you tighten your arms around him, fully taking in his embrace. the fact that you’re in the middle of the paddocks as an obstacle to everyone else has not sunken in yet. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

“yes, you will be paying for the first date actually.”

taglist (comment to be added): @scenesofobx

[shizucheese]

So full disclosure, I actually listened to episode 7 on Saturday, but this episode had so damn much to it and I got a bit side tracked by a theory that I'm still working on but I really want to get this out before episode 8 comes out.

As usual, if you want to see the continuously updated and reblogged version of my red string board, you can find it here.

Today is Tuesday, 2/27/24. Episode 7 came out 5 days ago on 2/22/24.

“Talkers”

Norris (Voice: Martin?/ Alex)

Episode 1: “Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]”. The Stranger? The End? The Dark? The Lonely? The Flesh? Arthur (Nolan?).

Episode 3: "Infection (full body" -/- Arboreal [Journal entry]". The Spiral? (Paranoia? Auditory, visual and olfactory hallucinations) The Lonely? The Corruption. The Flesh? (Callbacks to the Flesh Garden from S5)

Common Themes: Hearing the voice of a dead/ missing loved one?

Chester (Voice: John?/ Jonny)

Episode 1: “Transformation (eyes) -/- Tresspass [chat log]”. Magnus Institute, The Eye. (Involves a forum; the Web?).

Episode 5: "Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [Internet blog]". The Eye (Movies. Movie name: "Voyeur" "Must be seen to be believed"...). The Web? (Another website?). (Very reminiscent of Mag 110: Creature Feature.) The "poor old guy" at the theater is totally an Eye avatar, right? Kinda gives me "Simon Fairchild when he was first introduced" vibes.

Episode 7: "Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]". The Stranger. The Burried. The Desolation. Possibly all of them if my theory about the items the Volunteers brought in is correct...

Unsure if this is Eye related like the other statements were. This is also the first "Chester" statement where the source material wasn't from a website or blog, which don't have the same expectation of privacy that the sources of the other statements do. Email, though, so still internet related, and this seems to be an open letter rather than personal correspondence, so it still might align with the theme.

Agustus: (rare?)

Episode 4: “Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]” The End. The Lonely? The Slaughter.

Letter writer thinks passing on his violin might allow a part of himself to live on in his nephew. Very Jonah Magnus of him.

Music teacher hears “faraway music”, then goes crazy and throws himself out of the carriage and dies. Reminiscent of Mag7 and the Piper? The merchant’s wares include dice (Mag 29?). Got the violin from him (took his blood?). Effect of the violin reminiscent to Grifter’s Bone (Mag 42).

(Oliver Bardwell lol very funny guys)

Non-Talkers (?)

Episode 2: "Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]". The Spiral? The Flesh. The Stranger. Ink 5oul (avatar/ entity?)

Episode 6: "Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call] "Corruption? The Spiral? The Flesh? The End?

"Needles" reminds me of Michael!Distortion.

Notes and Thoughts:

"It's not like we're dealing with Tape Recorders..." I'm side eying you real hard, Celia. And what's with all of the questions? The "looking for patterns" question is 100% fair but those examples are AWEFULLY SPECIFIC. I wasn't entirely sure I bought the idea that Celia was the same Celia from TMA, but no this is totally her for sure. "DO YOU KNOW WHO JOHN" IS EXCUSE ME? WHAT REAL STUFF?

HILLTOP CENTER BRANCH?!!! 0 managerial or other support from HR; very reminiscent of the weird circumstances surrounding the house on Hilltop Road. Bear skin rug very reminiscent of the Gorilla Skin in TMA S3. The Volunteers remind me of the medical students from Mag34. The email is about events from 2015. This was the same year Gertrude died and John became the Head Archivist in TMA. Why am I not seeing anyone else talk about this?

I have a theory that I was originally going to put in this post but detangling that giant ball of red string entirely is taking too long so I'm just going to put the TL'DR here and maybe make a proper list later if I can ever finish pulling the string on that particular red sweater. Between the items the Volunteers bring in, and the events of the incident itself, what if every single Entity is represented? The gunshots that were heard were the Slaughter. The fire was the Desolation. The person who wrote the email being crushed by all of the items was the Buried. There are a number of artifacts that get listed off that could represent at least one if not multiple Entities (which might be their purpose; considering how many times the fact that the categorization was imperfect got brought up in TMA, it's probably more helpful to view them as a spectrum more than anything else), including some that are very reminiscent of things from specific TMA statements (The bear skin rug -> The Gorilla skin, Old medical equipment -> the syringe in mag 45? The telescope -> Maxwell Rayner was originally Edmond Halley, the Astronomer, etc. etc). So...okay, hear me out: what if this was all part of a ritual, and that's what the "good cause" was? A ritual that involved all of the fears being represented? Sound familiar? Except instead of it being a ritual to start an apocalypse or reshape the world in the image of one or more of the fears, what if it was a ritual to summon something that was associated with all of the fears? Or, rather, what if it was a ritual to summon someone who had been touched by all of the fears? And that's also why so many of the items seem to be analogous to things from statements and events from TMA? Like....maybe I'm wrong entirely. Or maybe I'm right about this being about summoning someone, or something, (maybe someone from TMA? Maybe Celia?), but wrong about it being John who was being summoned. But, again, this incident took place in 2015, which was the same year Gertrude died and John became head Archivist, and I feel like this means something.

[the-humiliated-man]

Teach Me, Mr. Shelby *Part Three* (An original story)

Summary: Mr. Shelby teaches y/n a lesson she won’t ever forget.

Warnings: swearing, angst, smuuuut

Written by: the-humiliated-man

Note: I’m so sorry it took me so long to update this series. Life gets really crazy! Also, pardon my spacing, I suck at it. Also also, do you think I should continue this series or let this be the last part?

————————————-

About 15 minutes had passed and still no sign of Mr. Shelby. You occupied yourself by staring at the posters on the wall of the classroom. Anything to pass the time. But your train of thought crashed in a fiery heap as the door opened and in walked your teacher.

At first, he didn’t even look in your direction as he made his way over. He set down his laptop and shuffled around to sit on the edge of the large wooden desk in front of you. There wasn’t much space between the two of you and that would usually make you fidgety, but right now you had no more gas left in the tank.

His veiny hands held onto the edges at his sides and he seemed to be searching for the words he needed to say. But you didn’t have time for elongated silences anymore.

“What do you need to talk to me about, Mr. Shelby?” You sighed. The battle in his head went on for a few more seconds and came to an end as he crossed his arms.

“You and Alex seemed to get along well, yea?”his question confused you to high heavens and you didn’t even bother to let your face hide it.

“You wanted to talk to me about Alex?” You asked, quite annoyed. “Sir, I don’t really have time to stay any longer than I already have. My mom is expecting me home.” With that, you got up and reached for your bag.

“I already called your mother and told her you’d be late. Quite late, actually. Sit down” he said flatly. Fuck.

“Of course you talked to her” your voice had more bite than you intended, but you were getting quite agitated. “What about Alex and I? Yeah he’s cool and I helped him with his homework. That’s about it” shrugging you sat back down in the chair in front of him. Having to look up to him as he stared down at you made you feel small.

“So you had a lot of time to talk, I assume. Figured ya asked him what you asked me” he said bluntly. Your cheeks began to feel hot and you broke away from his eyes.

“No I didn’t ask him what I asked you” you responded, barely above a whisper. Of course you didn’t ask Alex. If you had fully known what it was at the time, you wouldn’t have asked Mr. Shelby either.

“So you only asked me, eh? Am I the only one you spoke to about this?” His shoes came into your vision as he came closer to your desk. But you didn’t want to look up. “Look at me when I speak to you, y/n.” He warned. He was so close that you could smell his cologne and feel his breath hit the top of your head.

You lifted your eyes to his and nodded weakly. “Yes sir. You’re the only one I asked.”

He pursed his lips and nodded and leaned down to place both hands onto your desk top.

“You know what that tells me?” He rasped. You shook your head no, afraid of giving the wrong answer again. “That tells me that you asked me because you wanted me to. Not Alex or any other boy in this school. No, you asked me. Am I wrong?”

There was only a few inches separating you from his chiseled, beautiful face. The closeness made you feel fuzzy and tingly in new places. Something you had never felt before.

“I didn’t know it was bad, sir. All of my friends talk about it like it’s no big deal so I thought it’d be okay. If I knew it was bad then I wouldn’t have asked. But I saw you as someone I could trust and someone who could show me” you answered honestly.

Just then, a small smirk played with the corner of his mouth. What about any of this was funny? You were being incredibly vulnerable with him and he was smirking? Now you just felt utterly humiliated and tears stung your eyes.

“This is not funny, Mr. Shelby. I’m being honest with you. This shit is so humiliating.”you sobbed openly. After a moment, you felt a hand gently touch the side of your face. His thumb stroked your cheek, wiping away the falling tears.

“I’m not laughing, love. I don’t think it’s funny. But-“ his hand traveled to your hair and tucked it behind your ear, making the fuzzy feeling from earlier intensify. “I do think you’re cute when you’re overwhelmed.” He finished strongly. Your head shot up to look at him and this time, there was a smug smirk on his face.

“What?” You replied. He walked over to the side of your desk and leaned over with one hand on the back of your chair and the other on your desk, trapping you in. He got closer until his nose was almost touching yours, causing your breath to come out in shaky exhales.

“you heard what I said, y/n” he rasped. His hand returned to cup your cheek and his gaze shifted from your eyes to your swollen lips. Before you could say anything more, his lips pressed to yours in a gentle kiss. You froze as his mouth worked against yours. He could sense your hesitancy and pulled back.

“Why won’t you kiss me back?”he asked gently. He tried to read your face for any sign of an answer. But you lowered your head and bit your lip.

“I’ve never done it before.” you whispered. There was quiet before he stood up and held out his hand.

“Come ‘ere, y/n,” his voice offered comfort and you found yourself taking his hand and standing up. His figure towered over yours, making you felt tiny looking up at him. His hands snaked around your waist and lightly squeezed, provoking a gasp from you. Mr. Shelby bit down on his bottom lip as he gaged your face.

“Now, I’m going to teach you how to properly kiss someone. Just copy what my lips are doing and you’ll catch on, yea?” His face was coming closer to yours as you gave him a slow nod and soon enough your lips were pressed against his. He moved slowly against your mouth, allowing you time to copy what he was doing. Soon enough you got the hang of the long pecking between the two of you and your hands rose to hold either side of his face. The contact made him kiss you a bit harder, taking your bottom lip and sucking on it gently. The action pulled a small moan from your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and walked you to his desk before setting you down on the cold surface. Your arms wrapped loosely around his neck as the kiss became feverish. Without warning, he pushed his tongue inside your mouth and let it dance against yours. The feeling was simply indescribable. It felt so dirty yet so loving all at once. A tingling sensation spread throughout your lower abdomen and into your most intimate places as his hips slowly began to grind against your clothed crotch. You let out little gasps and moans into his mouth as his hips rubbed against you slowly and firmly. What felt like a stiff bulge was forming in his pants and it made the grinding feel even more electric.

After keeping up this heated make out for quite some time, he pulled back to catch some air. Watching him stagger back, you noticed a large wet spot on the crotch of his pants. He followed your eyes to his pants before slowly looking back up at you. You watched unblinking as his eyes trailed down your body and in between your spread legs. Now it was your turn to follow him as you looked down to see an even larger spot on your pants. Your eyes shot back up at him as he chuckled breathlessly.

“What happened?” You asked. He chuckled again, still trying to catch up with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He sauntered over to you, standing in between your open legs. His hand drifted down your body, starting at your neck and moving down the valley of your breasts until it came to rest on the waist line of your leggings. He kissed you once more while toying with your waist band.

“You’re wet, y/n. Means you’re turned on for me.” He said while studying your face. “Now, I need you to take your clothes off, love.” his hands left you as he backed up to allow you room to do as he asked. You hopped off the desk and gripped the sides of your leggings and pulled them down along with your underwear. You felt oddly calm about being half naked in front of your teacher. Something about the look in his eyes as he took your lower half in made you feel confident. His hand palmed at the bulge in his pants and almost moaned when he saw your arousal drip down your legs.

“Mr. Shelby, it’s so wet.” You gasped, genuinely in awe. He let out a low growl, snatching you up and sitting you back down on the cold desk. A wet smack echoed in the room as your ass hit the surface. The sting drew a grunt from you but you were muffled by his lips against yours. Unexpectedly, you felt two fingers began to rub up and down your slit.

“Oh my god. Fuck” you moaned at the new feeling. His fingers began circling around your most sensitive part at a brutal pace, making your legs shake. He grunted and moaned in your ear.

“You like this, eh? Your teacher rubbing your wet cunt?” His breath was hot on your neck.

“Yes sir, it feels so good” you gasped as he slid a thick finger into you with ease. He began curling it inside you, forming a knot in your lower abdomen. The desk began to rattle as you shook wildly on top of it. The pull in your tummy became more intense as he stared into your helpless eyes.

“Mr. Shelby, something’s happening” you shrieked, gripping at his arm. He smirked as he looked down at his hand thrusting into you. His palm completely covered in arousal.

“You’re gonna come for me, yeah? Go ahead and do it” he said so calmly. You began to panic and you squeezed his arm.

“I don’t know how” you said desperately and out of breath.

“Don’t fight it. Just relax and it will happen”

he sped up and you felt the knot completely come undone. Actual screams left you as he continued his euphoric assault on your pussy. Your legs shook as wave after wave of pure lightning hit you and once it became too much, he pulled away from you. There you sat, a sweaty and whimpering mess on his desk.

He stood back and focused his eyes on your throbbing opening. His breathing was heavy and there was sweat beading on his forehead. He took in your pathetic state and began to palm himself over his pants. There was only heavy gasps to be heard in the room around you. You looked at his face and witnessed a smug little smile spread across his chiseled features.

“Now there’s a mess in between your legs, love.” He sauntered over to you, never breaking his stare on your center.

“And we must clean up the messes we make, eh?” His brows furrowed in question, now mere inches from your face. All you could muster was a weak nod even tho you didn’t really know what he meant. His thumb and pointer finger took a gentle hold on your chin. He ghosted his lips over yours, making you whimper.

“So I am going to show you how I clean up my messes”, he said barely over a whisper. You nodded once again and set right to kissing down your jaw, between your breasts and trailing down your stomach until he was knelt down in front of you with his lips kissing the inside of your thighs. You suddenly realized where this might be going and you tensed up.

“Mr. Shelby, what are you doing?” You rasped, bringing your knees together around his head a little bit. His eyes met yours before pulling back slightly. His expression was hard and hungry.

“I’m going to teach you, y/n” he said lowly before spreading your legs wider and licking a bold stripe up your pussy. Your hand flew to his thick black hair and you gasped hard enough to hurt your throat a bit. His tongue danced over each sensitive nerve in a deliciously torturous way. His hands hooked around your thighs and scooted you closer to him as he began to suck on your clit roughly.

“M-mr. Sh-shelbyyy”, you whined, rocking your hips onto his face slowly. He detached from you with a wet pop, but not giving you any time to rest as his hand began making feverish circles around your throbbing mound. His head was laying against your thigh as his hand worked against you. A shiny wetness was smeared across his swollen pink lips and his eyes bore into your desperate ones. He switched from slow to brutal paces, enjoying the way you would try to stifle your screams. After a few moments of playing with you, his hand came up to your chest and push you flat on your back. Without warning, his tongue invaded your entrance as far as it could go. This time, you didn’t even bother muting yourself.

“Oh, fuck Mr. Shelby!” You screamed as his head bobbed back and forth between your legs. The foreign feeling of something inside you made it all the more exciting, causing that beautiful knot to form yet again. Your grip tightened in his hair, causing him to get rougher.

“Sir, I feel it again” you whined once your legs yet again began to shake uncontrollably. You felt him smile against you and watched his hand reach for your clit once more. The combination of his tongue inside you and the rough movements over your clit was too much to bear and you found yourself falling over the edge for the second time.

“Fuuuuck!” Your voice boomed in the classroom while that lighting graced your weak body once more. Mr.Shelby’s grip on your thighs tightened as you rode out your high. He began licking up all of your euphoria until he deemed it all clean, then set his head back into your thigh and gently ran his fingers over your tummy and breasts while you tried to regain your sense of reality. Once the stars in your vision cleared, you looked down at your beautiful, swollen lipped teacher and smiled.

“Does that answer your question, love?”he smiled back. You let out a breath giggle and stroked his messy hair gently.

“Yes, sir. It does” you replied. The two of you lay there for a few more blissful moments before he returned to his feet and helped you off the desk. Once you were clothed, he planted a soft kiss on your lips, making your heart melt to the floor.

“Now you better get home, y/n” he spoke gently. You nodded and grabbed your bag, sad that this time together was over. You headed for the door on wobbly knees.

“Oh, and y/n?” You turned around to look at him.

“Yes?” You replied. He was now seated at his desk.

“Let me know if you have any further questions about anything. I am your teacher after all, so I’m supposed to teach you things, right?” He smirked.

“Right” you giggled and walked out the door.

Now that you think of it, third hour wasn’t so bad.

[torreshalstead]

You make the miles worth it - Chapter 12

Summary - The Chicago Marathon had always been a dream for Hailey. And when she meets a stranger in pink running shoes whilst training, she realises maybe she had been dreaming for more.

Chapters - 13/21

Chapter Summary - Hailey is on shift at the restaurant when she gets the call that Jay at Med.

Notes - This chapter is the first of a run of a couple of chapters that I really love so I hope you enjoy! Thanks as always for your support! AO3 Link

8 weeks to go

‘Alex, a large table just walked in, you alright to take them?’ Hailey asked as she entered the back of the restaurant.  The young blonde waitress nodded with a small smile.  ‘They’re regulars’ she added and the smile grew on the girl's face.  Regulars usually were more polite and pleased with the service they received.  New patrons would often complain about the amount of time it took for food to be served but until their manager agreed to hire more kitchen staff, that wasn’t going to change.

‘Is it the Fletcher party?’ Vanessa asked as Alex walked through the doors to the main dining room.

‘Yep’ Hailey said as she pulled out her phone.  She was expecting to hear from Jay at some point to confirm the time for their run today; he had mentioned it might be a late one when they spoke on the phone yesterday.

‘You just gave up the Fletchers?’ Vanessa shook her head in despair, ‘they tip like crazy Hails’.

Hailey laughed, ‘I know but after that party last night who barely tipped 4% on their $150 tab, Alex deserves it’.

‘You’re such a softie’, Vanessa smirked as she nudged Hailey with her shoulder. ‘No text from Mr Spandex?’ she asked, noticing Hailey pocketing her phone.

‘Are you ever going to stop calling him that?’ she laughed.

‘Maybe, but not today.  Stop avoiding the question’.

‘No, no text but he said it might be a late one tonight so they are probably busy.’

‘I’m sure they are, Kev mentioned something similar’, Vanessa smiled.

‘That going well? You and Kev?’

‘Yeah’, Vanessa smiled softly, ‘it is, he’s such a sweetheart and treats me so well’.

‘You deserve it V.  You really do’, she wrapped her arm around the shorter woman and pulled her close. ‘And if he ever messes you around he’s got me to deal with’, she laughed.

‘Yes because in a fight between you and Kevin, I’m definitely betting on you’, Vanessa scoffed.

The moment was interrupted by the shrill sound of Hailey’s phone ringing.  Fishing it out of her pocket she glanced at the screen.  She paused, it wasn’t a number she recognised.

‘Hello’ she said as she answered the call.

‘Hey, Hailey, it’s Adam. Adam Ruzek from Intelligence’ the voice from the other line said.

‘Oh hey Adam, everything alright?’ she asked curiously.  She had only spoken to Adam a couple of times since she had met him that first time at Cork and Kerry so to hear from him now was bizarre.

‘Umm, well…’ Adam tailed off and Hailey felt her stomach drop.

‘Adam?’ she asked again, a little stronger this time.

‘I don’t want you to worry’, he said and Hailey’s legs threatened to give out, she grasped onto the counter in front of her and felt Vanessa move to stand closer.

‘Everything okay’, Vanessa whispered and Hailey just shook her head slowly.

‘Jay’s in the hospital’.

A gasp left Hailey’s lips and her phone almost slid out of her grasp.

‘Is he..?’ she began to ask but struggled to get any words out.

‘He got shot.’ Hailey gasped again and she felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘It hit the vest but he had to go in as he was struggling to breathe’, the tears were falling down her cheeks now as she stifled a sob. ‘He’s being seen by the docs now but wanted me to call you as he doesn’t think he’ll be able to run tonight’.  Hailey let out a loud laugh at this that was mixed with a sob.  Of course he would be thinking about that right now.

‘Which hospital?’ was all she asked.

‘He’s okay Hailey’, Adam countered.

‘Which hospital?’ she repeated.

‘Med’ sighed Adam.

‘I’m on my way’ and before he could say anything else she hung up.  Turning to Vanessa who was nodding at her clearly having heard all of the conversation.

‘I’ve got you covered’ she said and all but pushed Hailey out of the door.

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

Barrelling through the double doors into Med’s Emergency Department waiting area, Hailey headed straight over to the check in desk.

‘Jay Halstead’ she said quickly before realising that would mean nothing to the woman sitting in front of her.  ‘I’m here to see Jay Halstead, he was brought in with a gunshot wound’ she said again in a more composed manner.  

Just then the doors into the ED opened and Will walked through them, spotting Hailey, he headed straight over to her.

‘Will’, she breathed, ‘is he okay?’

‘Yeah he’s fine Hailey, you didn’t need to come down’.  Hailey’s face fell.  Maybe Jay wouldn’t want her here, she thought.  They weren’t together after all.  He had only asked Adam to call her to cancel their evening run together, not to ask her to come visit.  

Will spotted the change in Hailey’s demeanour.  ‘I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you’ he quickly said with a smile and noticed the blonde’s shoulders relax at this, ‘he hates hospitals so you’ll make him smile’. Hailey blushed and nodded, she knew Jay wasn’t the biggest hospital fan, it was something that had come up on one of their early runs when they were discussing phobia’s one day.  ‘Follow me’, he said and led Hailey through the doors to one of the examination rooms.

Pausing before opening the curtain that shielded the contents of the room, Will turned to look at Hailey.  ‘He is okay Hailey, he doesn’t look that great but I promise you, he’s fine’.  Hailey nodded but could still feel her eyes welling up.

Will pulled open the curtain and Hailey couldn’t control the small noise she made at the sight.  Jay was sitting up in bed, shirtless with a large purple bruise blossoming across his left hand side.  He was clearly in pain but as soon as he spotted Hailey he sat up straighter but at this movement he let out a hiss through his teeth.

‘I’ll leave you two to it’, Will winked at Jay and retreated from the room, pulling the curtains closed behind him.

‘Hailey’, Jay said through gritted teeth, in an attempt to mask how much pain he was in.  ‘You didn’t have to come’.

Hailey remained stood where she had when she had first entered the room, staring at him.  She was taking in the bruise on his chest, the scratches on his arms and the cannula providing him additional oxygen resting under his nose.  She knew she was crying but was doing nothing to stop the tears.

‘Adam called’ she whispered, still not taking a step towards him. She had pulled her sleeves down over her hands and was now fiddling with the cuffs. ‘He said you were shot’.  This second sentence was even quieter than the first.

Jay nodded, ‘I was but I’m okay’.

‘How can you say that!’ Hailey exclaimed loudly, shocking Jay. ‘You were shot Jay.  Shot.  With a bullet’ the tears streaking down Hailey’s face were now those of anger.  ‘How can you be so calm about this! You were shot, Jay!’

‘I know’, he said softly, ‘it’s not the first time and it’s unlikely to be the last’, he let out a quiet chuckle.

Hailey scoffed through the tears, ‘that doesn’t make it any better’ she said, calmer now.

‘I know’, he reached out his hand for her, ‘please come here’ he said when she didn’t move any closer.

Taking a deep breath, Hailey stepped closer and took her hand in his. ‘I was so worried,’ she said quietly.

‘I know’ he squeezed her hand.  ‘But honestly, I’m okay’, she shot him another look and he laughed. ‘It hit the vest, and it wasn’t close range so my ribs are just bruised not broken.  Doc says I’ll be back running in a couple of days as long as I can do it without it being too painful’.

Hailey shook her head, ‘I’m not worried about when you’ll be back running Jay’.

‘I am’ he said quietly, tightening his grip on her hand.

Realising slowly what he meant by this, she smiled down at him and wiped her eyes with her free hand.

‘We will still spend time together, even if you can’t run for a bit,’ she said.

‘Yeah?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Going to be my at-home nurse’ he winked and Hailey laughed. ‘There she is’ he smiled up at her.  ‘Hadn’t seen that smile since you walked in’.

‘Well when you’re sitting here looking like that, what do you expect me to do?’ she scoffed.

‘Last time you saw me without a shirt on I got a very different response’ he winked at her again and she attempted, without any real effort, to pull her hand from his grasp but he wouldn’t let go.  ‘Thanks for coming’ he added quietly, running his thumb along the outside of her hand.

‘Anytime’ she said and perched on the side of his bed.  ‘This okay?’ she asked.

‘Better than okay’, he said with a smile and closed his eyes.

‘Don’t fall asleep on me’ she said, gently shaking his hand.  

‘I won’t’ he whispered but his eyes remained closed.  

She couldn’t help herself, she reached up and ran her free hand through his hair.  His tight knit brow relaxed at the contact and he let out a small sigh.

She went to pull her hand away but heard him whisper, ‘don’t stop’.  She smiled and resumed her movements gently running her fingers through his soft brown hair.

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

Jay had been asleep for about 20 minutes when Will reappeared, softly knocking his knuckles against the wall.

‘He asleep?’ he whispered as he closed the curtain behind him.

Hailey nodded, ‘he drifted off just after I arrived’.

Will smiled softly looking over at his sleeping brother, not missing the way Hailey’s hand was wrapped around his resting atop the sheets.

‘He must really trust you,’ Will said quietly and when Hailey looked at him questioningly he continued, ‘he’s never slept in a hospital before, even with everything he’s been through, it would take us practically knocking him out to make him rest.  He’s always fighting to go home, but with you… he trusts you to look out for him whilst he’s here.  He’s not one to relinquish control’, Hailey chuckled quietly at this and squeezed Jay’s hand gently.  Will laughed faintly as well, ‘but he’s trusting you to be on his side, to look after him.’

‘I trust him too’, Hailey whispered, more to Jay than to Will.

‘We should be able to discharge him in the next hour.  We wanted to check him for a concussion as Adam thought he might have hit his head when he went down but he’s got no symptoms and I know trying to keep him overnight would be like fighting a losing battle.’

‘I’ll keep an eye on him, if he shows any symptoms, I’ll bring him in myself’, Hailey said confidently.

‘I think you might be the only person in this city who would actually be able to do that’, Will laughed loudly.  At the additional level of noise, Jay stirred.  Slowly opening his eyes and roaming his eyes around the room, he spotted Hailey first and smiled at her sleepily.

‘Hey you’, Hailey whispered. ‘How you feeling?’ 

‘Like I got shot’, he croaked, his throat dry from the hospital air.

‘My brother, always the comedian’, Will spoke up from the doorway, an air of sarcasm laced through his words.

‘You better be here to tell me I can go home’, Jay said, wincing as he tried to pull himself into a seated position but Hailey’s hand came to gently push his shoulder back down.

‘I was just telling Hailey here that we can discharge you in the next hour.  But she’s going to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t have a concussion so don’t argue with her.’

‘I wouldn’t dare’, squeezing Hailey’s hand as he spoke.

‘I’ll be back with your paperwork in a bit then’ he patted Jay’s leg over the sheets. ‘Glad you’re alright’.

‘Thanks man,’ but before his brother had a chance to leave the room, Jay’s eyes had returned to Hailey’s, allowing Will to sneak out of the room quietly with a grin on his face.

‘So you’re coming home with me?’ Jay asked with a smirk.

‘Guess I am,’ Hailey replied, ‘doctors orders’.

[hoghtastic]

I must admit, I feel "seen." 😋 As I sit here, reading all the posts, I totally feel seen but in a different way than you may think. Typically, anyone who "feels seen," gets defensive and then sends in an ask that is calling someone out. I want to address this differently and hope for someone to help me. I'm serious. And I'm not going to be rude, so don't worry. I seriously am asking for your opinions and suggestions.

I'm about to lay all my BS out on the table and open up and be completely vulnerable here. Please, if you answer me, be kind, because I'm honestly not pointing fingers at anyone but MYSELF!

Well, am I someone who has also been "desperately trying to prove that Johanne does not live with Alex?" Yes, I am. Have I analyzed stuff to exhaustion to prove my point that it hasn't happened yet? Also, yes. Does it mean I'm a bit on the crazy side? Absolutely. It has to. Or completely crazy? Probably also, yes. (Even though my friend tells me that crazy people don't usually sit around and question if what they're doing is crazy or not. Haha)

And the question here isn't AM I jealous of her. The question is, WHY the F*@K am I jealous of her? I have my own life, that I am quite happy with, actually, and I know whatever happens with them, between them, absolutely has no bearing on my life whatsoever! They could have 2.5 kids, 20 brand new cars, a white picket fence, and live happily ever after, and it would not affect my life at all. They are complete strangers that I only know and make my opinions of based on what they've posted and what I've seen and read about them. How does it make any D#@M sense, then, that the thought of them living together or omg, getting married makes a part of my heart break a little? And seriously, not because of anything she has done or posted and deleted, (because I won't make an assumption based on who she is entirely based on just the ridiculous sh¡t) but just because I'm just woman enough to admit I'm jealous! I know even if they weren't together, it doesn't increase MY chances of being with him or anything even close to that, so why the H3LL do I care?!!!!!!!!!!!! I have thought and thought and analyzed it to death and I still can't figure it out.

I want him to be happy, I do, but why does him being happy make a part of me sad? And even though it does still make me happy for him, it makes no sense!

So I come to you all to sincerely ask if I am the only one. Surely I'm not the only person in this boat! 🤞🏼 and even if I am, is there anyone who can explain this to me? WHAT THE F☆@K is my problem? Because it seems I seriously have one! Ugh!

HELP! Please! I feel so dumb. And I'm usually smarter than this.

Oh, And just in case someone says it or thinks it, no, I don't think me and Alex are in any kind of relationship, I don't think we're all friends, and I don't think he's mine or belongs to me. I'm not completely lost haha

Hello anon! 😊 First of all, I truly admire your courage and sincerity for sharing your feelings with us in such an honest way. I do believe you're not the first, nor will you be the last to feel like this. Most people, in any moment of their lives had some sort of celebrity crush which may or may not have had some sort of impact in their lives.

Especially in today's age, social media has made it extremely easy to have access to one's favorite celebrities. As we get more glimpses into their lives, and even some interactions sometimes, we feel closer to them and they truly become a part of our daily lives. We see these people everyday, we get to know what they've been up to, and therefore we grow to know and admire them even more. Sometimes their mere presence brightens our day and gives us some comfort in tough times, to help us through the day, much like a real-life friend would, and our attachment grows. And like a real-life friend, we won't always agree with everything they do or say, so sometimes we also get a little frustrated or even worried about them (or jealous, like you mentioned). And these feelings are real, the time and emotional (and sometimes monetary) investment in these people is real, however, the relationship is not, since it's really one-sided. And that's the key word here, which defines parasocial relationships.

From your description, it seems to me that's what you're experiencing. According to this article, there are various levels of parasocial relationships, and it seems that while you are aware of their one-sided nature, which is actually a good thing, it's still affecting you in some way, so it has become intense-personal.

While parasocial relationships can lead to negative consequences like stalking and avoiding real-life relationships and responsibilities, they also have a few benefits, like helping socially anxious people eliminate fear of rejection, or helping against depression and loneliness, as people feel some sort of connection to their favorite celebrity (and sometimes even make friends in the community/fandom). So it's easy to understand why some people are more vulnerable and end up experiencing parasocial relationships.

It's also important to acknowledge that today's industry also capitalizes on these relationships, creating an illusion of face-to-face interaction. In said article they mention more personal advertising campaigns in which celebrities or influencers talk directly to their audiences, maybe even sharing some personal stories to establish a closer connection. However, since we're talking about Alex, I'd like to mention the countless conventions he attends, during which he acts as his fans' long time friend, speaking and behaving exactly how they expect him to, promoting this sense of proximity and giving the illusion of a more realistic and intimate connection.

In conclusion, what you're experiencing is actually very common, anon, and I'd advise you to look a little more into this topic to better understand your feelings. However, if you feel they're having some sort of bigger impact in your daily life, my best advice would be to talk to a professional who could better guide you. Regardless, I hope this was helpful and if you ever feel like talking to someone about this, my asks & DMs are always open. 😊💖

[anonquack]

| Chef Q |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot, Requested by: @anotherdreamsimp !!

Word Count: 3328

Warnings: Some curse words, mainly just some fluff !

Summary: Quackity hasn't been streaming recently, and decides to come back with a cooking stream. Featuring you as a special guest.

Lately, Quackity had been studying like crazy for his final exams. That meant no streaming. He'd take a break from it to focus entirely on his studies. Absolutely nothing else.

He claimed to have his priorities straight, and had the goal to pass all exams with high scores in order to keep his grades looking wonderful.

This also meant there was rarely any time spent between you two, beside the occasional snack breaks you forced him to take so he wouldn't die at his desk.

It was tough not being able to show him a random video you'd found on the timeline, or walking up to chat with him whenever you wanted, but you knew this was very important to him. So you gladly supported him and offered as much support as possible.

Thankfully, all of his studying paid off and he passed with flying colors. A teacher had even informed him that he'd received the top score for one of his final exams.

You were the first person to hear the news, and you couldn't help but feel the adoration coursing through your body at how excited he was to tell you. Jumping up and down and shaking you lightly as he told you about his scores.

You'd offered to take him out for a celebratory meal, to treat him for all his hard work and also since you missed the fun outings with him. There was no way he was saying no to that.

—

After a day out and about, you two had made your way back home. Both of you were pleasantly full, having enjoyed the meal and also dessert. His request, for "doing so well on his finals." How could you possibly deny him that?

You both were also very content, a warmth and comfort surrounding the air around you two the entirety of the outing.

One thing that was impossible not to notice was how he'd become exceptionally clingy as soon as you two were out of the car. Gripping onto your hand tightly as you singlehandedly unlocked the front door.

"I've missed you so much these past few days." He murmered as you finally got the door to open and pulled him inside.

"I've missed you too." You hummed softly. It was always nice hearing him say these things. You locked the front door, and gently pulled at his hand to lead him back to your room.

It didn't take much of a pull for him to willingly follow you. "Can we cuddle or something?" He asked softly, almost as if he was a bit embarrassed to ask. You turned to him and gave him a grin, along with a small nod.

You'd missed him, even if you two had been in the same apartment this whole time. You'd especially been missing cuddles with him, considering he studied pretty much all day. There wasn't enough time being shared together so you gladly agreed to some cuddling.

Sooner than later, you two found yourselves in your pajamas, laying in bed peacefully as you scrolled through tiktok, screen tilted in order for him to see as well. It really was so nice finally being able to be this close to him again.

After some time, you found yourself looking through tweets on the timeline. A certain one caught his attention and he asked you to stop scrolling.

It was a tweet from a fan, saying they missed Quackity since he hadn't streamed in two weeks, but that overall they hoped his tests were going fine.

"Has it really been 2 weeks?" He asked aloud as he clicked on it and looked through the replies, all agreeing with the original tweet.

"Mm.. two and a half, I think." You answered, looking at him curiously as a guilty expression appeared on his face.

"Hey." You called out once you saw the expression wasn't leaving. He turned to you with a small frown.

"It's fine. You had a good reason for being gone so long. I'm sure they understand. Plus, you'll be back soon, right?" You asked, to which he nodded before sitting up from the cuddling position you two were in.

You sat up as well, noticing how his eyes widened slightly, and a small smile made its way onto his face.

"I just got a great idea." He exclaimed. "Y'know, I was going to just spend the next few days with you since I missed you but– how about we stream something together? That way I can enjoy both, and the fans get a stream too."

You stared at him in surprise. The fans did know he was dating someone, but you rarely ever came out on streams, not because he didn't want you to but because you didn't deem it to be necessary.

The few times you had been on, you'd received tons of love and support from the chat, so you didn't think anything too bad would happen if you were to appear on his stream again.

"What did you have in mind?" You asked curiously. The other times you'd been on were him playing horror games and an extremely scuffed IRL stream.

"Well.. I haven't done a cooking stream in a while." He began, but you quickly shook your head.

"Oh no. Don't tell me you're going to make us eat some monstrosity‐ like your past cooking streams." You visibly shuddered at the thought. You remember having to help clean up the mess after. And no matter how funny it had been, the actual cleanup was awful.

"No no– I was thinking maybe we do a serious one, y'know? Chat hasn't really been able to see my cooking abilities, and well.. I'd say I am pretty good at it." He grinned. He was unfortunately right.

You relaxed at the mention of it being a 'serious' cooking stream. It could never really be too serious when it came to Quackity, but it meant not eating dog food or poorly made pizza. You were in.

"So we'll make an actual.. edible.. meal?" You questioned again, just to be sure. To which he nodded.

"Yeah, and we can enjoy that meal after. Like a date. What do you say?" He was beaming. It was his creativity rolling in. And he was probably so proud of himself for finding a way to spend time with you yet also give chat the stream content they'd been missing out on.

"Alright. I'm in."

You hadn't seen him this eager to get out of bed and head to the grocery store ever before. Chat was really in for a fun stream tomorrow.

—

He'd tweeted it out several hours before you two planned on starting the stream that he'd be streaming today with a special guest, and that he had his chef hat ready to go.

As you scrolled through Twitter you could see the timeline freaking out over 'COOKING STREAM' and 'SPECIAL GUEST'. Lots of discussion over who it was.

You couldn't help but feel a bit bad since the fans were probably speculating that he'd met up with his online friends, but in reality it was just you. In that case, you'd try your best to make this a fun stream, and your presence an enjoyable one.

As the time for the stream to start got closer, you helped him set the ingredients you'd be using onto the table, in a way where it was in perfect view for the stream to see and follow along if they wished.

"We're supposed to start in 5." You called out as he slipped his beanie on, fixing the few hair strands that were sticking out a bit too much.

He smiled and made his way over to you, cupping your face and giving you a small kiss. "I'm so excited to do some cooking with you. They're all going to love you."

You couldn't help the warm feeling that spread over your chest at his words. It was like introducing you all over again. He'd recently gained a lot of new followers, and that meant they probably had no idea who you were. Always fun going through that again.

He dealt with some last minute editing and placing, checking all ingredients were there and that everything was set, before hitting the 'Go Live' button.

It didn't take long for the viewers to increase after the tweet notification went out, and the starting soon screen was the only thing really protecting you two from the roaring chat.

Everyone was dying to know what was going on, who the special guest was, and whether this would be yet another scuffed cooking stream.

You stood behind the camera as the starting soon screen finally disappeared and he began greeting the viewers, thanking all the subs coming in, and eventually also giving them a little update on how he'd done on his exams.

You felt so proud as you watched him boast about how his studying had paid off, and how he talked about being the happiest he'd been in a while. He deserved all of it. And chat thought so too.

After some rambling about his test scores and what they'd be cooking today, chat finally became too impatient and asked for a reveal of the special guest.

"Fine. Fine. Since you guys are so fucking impatient." He huffed, watching as chat flew by, telling him to 'get on with it' and to 'TELL US WHO IT IS'. You couldn't help but laugh at the relationship he had with his chat. Always bullying each other but usually knowing when to stop and send love.

"I've actually had them on multiple other streams, not so much recently.. but they've been on my horror streams.. some IRL streams.. and they are really really special to me, chat!" He said with a big smile. Some of chat was confused as to who he was referring to, while older fans began to question if it was YOU. They were very smart.

"Some of the viewers might not know of them, so this is like I'm introducing them to chat all over again! Come over here." He finally directed the last part at you. You couldn't help but feel the sudden spike in anxiety, but chose to ignore it as you smiled back at him and headed into the frame beside him.

With a small wave and a greeting, you watched as chat completely broke. A mess of question marks and your name being spread in chat. You couldn't help but laugh. It was an overwhelmingly positive reaction as Quackity explained to new viewers that you were his partner, and that older fans were already aware of this for a while now.

The amount of 'y/n our beloved' and people asking if quackity's partner was single were abundant in chat, and you couldn't help but feel stupid for thinking the newer viewers would hate you or something.

Having the approval of Quackity's chat also made you feel lighter, it made it easier to let go and just enjoy the cooking stream.

You two began to explain what you'd be cooking to chat, and you made it very clear that he actually had to try and cook this time, to which chat agreed wholeheartedly.

He'd taken a recipe from his mom for one of his favorite meals, one he hadn't had in a while. He explained to chat that he wanted to see how well you and him could recreate it until you two took a trip to visit his family.

"Hopefully we don't disappoint her too much." You mumbled as he placed the chef hat onto your head, fixing it so you looked presentable.

"She can't be because we're actually gonna try." He stated before beginning to explain to chat what the meal was since many of them might not have even heard of it before. As he did that, you began to set aside the ingredients you wouldn't be needing until later.

After everything had been explained, it was time to get cooking. His concentration to try and recreate his mom's recipe was adorable, and chat agreed on that too.

This stream wasn't loud and messy like the others, but it was still enjoyable in its own way. Quackity was radiating such wonderful light and energy, cracking jokes and genuinely enjoying himself. It was all thanks to the stress and worries being lifted off his back. You really enjoyed seeing him like this.

Chat was able to follow along later if they wanted with how organized you guys were being, but the banter he had with you and chat made it entertaining to any casual viewer. He always found a way to make it fun.

Not only that, but chat was able to see a new side of him. The Chef Q side. More often than not, a message would roll in saying they were amazed by how good Quackity actually was at cooking. You could already imagine some of the edits that'd come out of the stream.

His mom had told you two beforehand how long it would normally take to cook this meal, and it was perfect for a usual stream and some extras where you two would actually get to try the food.

There was moments where chat was warning you two that the food would burn or that he'd accidentally set the kitchen on fire, but overall you were enjoying yourself so much.

And chat was enjoying your presence too!

By the time you two managed to finish the meal, you both plopped down onto the chairs he'd set for the supposed 'breaks'.

He had some of the sauce on his cheek and his apron, but still managed to look good. He'd also smeared sauce onto your cheek, and at this point some strands were sticking out of your hat in such a messy way since the last few minutes had been rather hectic, food almost burning and all.

"Chat. We did it." He called out before cheering loudly and clapping his hands, to which you swiftly followed along, chat beginning to cheer as well.

"I think its only right that we try what we made, don't you think?" You ask, to which chat quickly types YES in all caps, wanting to see the finished product and also find out if it even tastes good.

Quackity let out a chuckle as he smiled over at you. "Not gonna lie, I'm a little nervous. We haven't even seen it so it might just be black. Burnt to a crisp. Or what if it tastes like shit? Y/N i don't know what I'm going to do if the food tastes like shit. Thats what we're supposed to eat on our date." He whined a bit.

You shook your head, "It'll be great. And if not, we can just order takeout. It'll be fine big q." You smiled reassuringly. Chat became a frenzy of calling him cute for the state he was in, declaring their love for how supportive and kind you were, and melting over your relationship.

Before you knew it, you were both revealing the meal to chat, and pleasantly surprised by the results. The presentation of the meal itself looked really good. It looked like what you'd expect from such a plate. Quackity had even gone as far as saying it looked similar to how his mom made it.

You gasped, smiling in surprise at him. "Really? Did we really do that good of a job." His face turned into one of regret, and a long segment of silence engulfed you two before he nodded hesitantly. You both broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Okay okay, seriously. Chat's waiting for you to try it." You placed a fork in front of him, earning a loud scoff from him.

"They want to see you try it as well." He mirrored your actions and you gladly took the fork.

"Alright. First bite. Let's see if all our hard work paid off! Chat, are you ready?" You grinned and watched as the 'YES's started rolling in, some viewers telling you both to get the fuck on with it, and others gushing about how the food actually looked good. You could only hope.

You watched as he began to dig in, mouth full and chewing slowly, truly trying to savor the first bite. You did the same, and the stream was silent for the first time in a while. Chat was in suspense as well, question marks and incoherent rambling rolling through the chat.

"Chat..." he finally spoke after swallowing his bite. "Chat. It's." He paused before showing a small smile. "It's not bad at all. I like it. It's good."

You nodded your head in agreement, "It's nowhere near as good as the ones your mom makes.. but I think you and I make a pretty good team."

"I think so too. And not just for cooking." He grinned, earning himself a playful eye roll and shy smile from you.

The stream proceeded to you two feeding each other bites of the meal, asking each other if it was good, and just enjoying yourselves for a bit longer before Quackity deemed it was time to end.

"Chat !! Thank you so much for tuning in and watching this.. actually coordinated cooking stream. I had so much fun and well, I ate yummy food. I'm happy." He laughed, thanking a few more gifters before doing his signature Bye, and ending stream.

He hurried over to your side, pulling you into a hug. "Thank you so much. I truly had fun. And they definitely loved you, but not nearly as much as I do."

You chuckled at his words, giving him a small kiss before cupping his face. "I had a lot of fun too. Thank you for always being so nice to me." You paused, observing how cute he looked with his chef hat still on. "I think I like Chef Alex." You reached over and fixed his hat a bit.

"Yeah? Should I keep it on?" He teased, coming a bit closer. You couldn't help the warmth that spread over your cheeks at how blunt he was.

"Yes, but you need to help me clean this up. Maybe after we finish the food, hm? C'mon. Don't think I forgot our deal."

He whined, already feeling too lazy, but he quickly followed after you as you two sat down to actually eat. Still wearing the silly attire he'd bought for the stream, far too unbothered to change just yet.

Through a mouthful he asked, "Cuddles and a nap after we're done?"

You smiled and nodded, to which he gave a silent cheer. That was enough motivation to get you both up and cleaning after finishing the meal.

—

Wrapped in each other's arms again. He couldn't seem to get enough of it. You were once again scrolling through Twitter, this time scrolling through his indirects, wanting to see what people were saying about the stream.

He'd ask you to stop to read certain ones he found funny, and even 'aww'd at the ones he found cute, mainly those talking about how cute you two looked.

Surely enough, there was already edits using the clips of him cooking, and you'd openly admitted to him that he looked "so fucking good." To which he responded by cuddling closer, if even humanly possible.

Quackity found the numerous clips of you two feeding each other to be the best part of the tweets. You two rewatched, saved, liked as many as you could before he became tired.

And with that, he was pulling you close, and leaving small kisses anywhere he could on your face. Eventually, his chest slowly rose and fell as he entered a deep slumber. You smiled, glad to see he was finally getting the rest he deserved.

"Goodnight, Alex." You whispered, leaving a small kiss on his cheek before closing your eyes as well.

[earnestly-endlessly]

hi! hope you're doing well :) do you have any domestic!cherik fics? or established relationship ones?

Hi anon, thanks for the ask. I'm doing very well, been super busy because I'm currently moving but it's all good. I have plenty of great domestic/established relationship cherik fics for you. I hope you enjoy!!

Domestic/Established Relationship cherik

Daycare ‘Verse’ – orphan_account, pocky_slash

Summary: A modern AU in which Charles runs a mutant daycare and Erik is his long-suffering engineer boyfriend.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Gift of the Magi, But Screw it Up – librata

Summary: He doesn't know if he's buying too much, too little, or even the right things at all, because he's never entertained a guest as important as Edie Lehnsherr.

Making perfect – aesc

Summary: As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

Continue firm and constant – aesc

Summary: Moira hasn't seen her old partner in saving the world from threats human and intergalactic, Erik Lehnsherr, for a few years. When she finally does see him again, she finds a man different from the one who's been with her down in the dark and the dirt and the blood... or maybe he isn't so different after all.

After School Special – listerinezero

Summary: Charles was barely seventeen and Erik was his social studies teacher. But after almost fifteen years together, does it really matter how they met?

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Trying is Half the Battle – Pookaseraph

Summary: Post-Cuba, no divorce, Charles and Erik are in an established relationship and when Charles gets sick with a random flu bug, they discover that Charles can get pregnant. They then try to get pregnant, and try, and try.

We’ll all be gone for the summer – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles and Erik's usual family beach vacation gets a little bigger when they agree to watch Erik's teenaged twins for the summer. Charles is looking forward to a chance to bond with his step-children. Erik is terrified of screwing them up even more.

A Summer Day So Late in Coming – helens78

Summary: Fifty years after they fell in love, Erik comes to Charles with a proposal that rocks Charles's world.

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

Before You Attempt Me (Fair Warning) – kianspo

Summary: Charles helps Raven get ready for the prom. Surprisingly, that part goes well. The prom itself not so much. Erik cooks a lot of unhealthy comfort foods and is incredibly patient. Charles mostly frets about everything, until Erik does something neither he, nor Raven see coming.

And now you will not be alone any more – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik gives driving, sewing, and cooking lessons, soothes nightmares, bolsters self-esteem, and still can't figure out why Charles keeps smiling at him like that.

Some sense of touch and a melody – pocky_slash

Summary: On a day when Charles, for once, finds himself saying the right thing to everyone he sees, he allows himself to be talked into a field trip to a local orchard.

It’s kind of our whole thing – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

Indulgence – grim_lupine

Summary: “The children are still asleep,” Charles murmurs groggily, flinging an arm out as if searching for Erik beside him. “The house is still standing, this is a ghastly hour, and more importantly, I’m still here. Why do you insist on doing this every morning?”

Your Father’s Daughter – ConsultingWriter

Summary: Wanda proves just how much she takes after Erik.

Pietro reeled back before leaning back in "They didn't tell you what happened? Wanda got in a fist fight and totally wailed on this guy, I mean, on one hand I feel kinda embarrassed for him, but it was so epic."

Erik's eyebrows shot to his hairline. Wanda got in a fight? That was....surprising, to say the least. Wanda tended to take after Charles in temperament and preferred talking to violence.

This Crazy Game Called Life – chiasmus

Summary: Raven declares game night in the mansion. Sean finds an elephant, Erik inherits one hundred unwanted cats, and Charles scars Hank for life with misdirected dirty thinking. This is five thousand-something words of crack with a dose of schmoop. I'm not sorry. Written for this kink meme prompt: Raven is tired of the boys going off to play chess (if they're even playing chess!) and pulls out a load of board games from one of the closets in the mansion. Madness ensues.

To my roomba with love – sareyen

Summary: There are a lot of things that Erik loves about Charles. He loves all of the obvious things; Charles’s kindness, his intelligence, his laughter, his eyes. He also loves the little private things; the way Charles sneaks Erik his unwanted tomatoes, his warbled opera singing in the shower, that sensitive spot on his hip.

And he loves the silly things about Charles, especially the way the man has a habit of talking to inanimate objects when he thinks no one is looking. Charles has conversations with the kettle, the washing machine, and their roomba – and every time Erik eavesdrops on him, he falls in love with the man a little bit more.

Everything About it is a Love Song – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's spent fifty years being a figurehead and he's ready to leave that behind. Luckily, so is Charles.

(aka Old Retired Dudes in Love)

A Very Xavier-Lehnsherr Christmas – zamwessell

Summary: Erik is discovering new things about Charles Xavier all the time. Charles sometimes talks in his sleep. Often about food. Occasionally in Latin. Charles has a scar on his left thigh from attempting to demonstrate relativity to a girl by sitting on a hot stove. Charles doesn’t mean to be so loud when they make love, but sometimes Charles can’t help himself.

Charles is a voracious reader. Charles has an unspeakably filthy imagination. Charles will try anything in bed twice to make sure he wasn’t wrong the first time.

Charles is unexpectedly fond of Christmas. Perhaps that is not the phrase. “Unhealthily obsessed” might be better.

The fluffiest holiday fluff you ever read in your dang life.

Of Crabs and Castles – flightinflame 

Summary: Charles and Erik take their children to the beach. Wanda builds a sandcastle, Nina makes some friends, and Pietro gets some exercise. Some family fun in the sunshine.

Bring Your Daughter To Work Day – listerinezero

Summary: Charles brings three year old Lorna to class with him.

Glasses – grim_lupine

Summary: Charles blinks at him bemusedly, but Erik barely notices because Charles is wearing glasses— wire-rimmed, and Erik can feel the metal humming, traces without touch the way they follow the curve of Charles’s nose and rest behind his ears.

Genetics Isn’t Sexy – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles lectures. The kids aren't very responsive. Erik, on the other hand....

Peanut Butter and Honey (The Fairytale Remix) – pocky_slash

Summary: Once upon a time there was a Princess named Anya who lived in a house with her Daddy and her wicked stepmother Charles. (A wicked stepmother is the person who comes and lives with princesses and their daddies after their mommies go away.) She had a best friend named Leroy, and one day he was lost.

The Bystander (The Consultant (aka A Westchester Telepath in the Avengers Tower) Remix) – Nanimok

Summary: When it comes to Professor Charles Xavier, telepath, SHIELD consultant and compulsive flirt, no one is safe.

Not even the Big Three.

[myrandom-fandomlife]

Jatp

Alive!Luke x Alive!reader

Reader and Luke are dating but reader’s parents disapprove of him being in a band. So one night reader sneaks him into her bedroom and things get steamy/smutty

Ladies and gentlemen are you ready for a cabinet meeting the first (sorta) smut fic of this fandom huh

K here it is under the cut because it’s kinda a lot, lmk if you like!

Warnings: cursing, kind smut, needy Luke, horny Luke, fluffy Luke, friends to lovers, angst, bed sharing, morning wood, accidental spooning, lowkey cringe, all the goods

Word count: 1,536

You sighed, realizing you forgot your phone in Julie’s garage when you were already halfway to your house. Turning around, you retrace your steps and head back to the rehearsal area. You were there for your best friend, Luke, and his band’s rehearsal that day. You ended up sitting in on a lot of them because you loved watching the band play, they were amazing. Luke, most of all. He has a fire when he sings, and it’s probably the most attractive thing you have ever seen. 

You finally arrive back at the rehearsal spot, walking through the door and breathing in the familiar scent of Julie’s Bath and Body candles and a mix of the boys’ colognes. 

When you walked through the door, you weren’t expecting to see Luke softly strumming his acoustic on the couch. There’s a notebook in front of him, and he’s frantically writing what you assume are lyrics. He looks up when he hears you walk in, “Oh, h- hey.” He says quietly, and you immediately know that something is wrong. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, knowing you’re not going to get an answer at first. You find your phone on the coffee table, pocket it, and sit down next to him. 

“Yeah. Fine.” You see him write down another note in his song book in front of him, a song titled ‘Unsaid Emily’ and you know it’s about his mom.

“Luke,” you look at him with knowing eyes, hoping he will just let you in. 

“I-” his voice cracks, “I got into a fight with my mom about the band again, and I don’t know if they want me there anymore.” 

His eyes fill with tears, and you pull him into you. His face is buried in your shoulder, tears falling freely now. You sit there in silence for a while, letting him cry and holding him. 

When the tears have slowed to a stop he sits up off you with a watery smile, “Thank you, and I’m sorry for ruining your shirt,” he laughs a little.

“There’s your smile,” you grin because he’s just so pretty. “We’ll sort things out with your parents, I promise, okay? In the meantime, you can stay with me.”

His face goes red, “L-like in your room?” 

“Well yeah, my bed is pretty big and I can’t have you sleeping on this old couch” You laugh, feeling heat crawl up your neck because did you really just tell Luke Patterson to sleep in your bed?

“You want me to sleep with you?” His face gets even redder- which you didn’t think was possible- and he immediately retracts that, “N-not that I don’t want to sleep with you, I do, but not like that, not that I wouldn’t sleep with you-” 

“Luke,” you cut him off feeling more heat rise to your cheeks at his words, “if you’re that concerned, I will sleep on the floor.” 

“No!” You jump at his small outburst, “I mean, I’m not making you sleep on the floor in your own house.”

“Great, then it’s settled. We sleep in my bed. But, you can’t be seen by my parents.” 

“I’ve gotten great at sneaking around parents, how do you think I change clothes?” 

You snort and grab his hand, pulling him off the couch. “C’mon dork, it’s almost 11, and I need to be home by 11:30.”

On the walk home you discuss how he can sneak home and grab a bag of clothes to keep at your house. 

~~~~

The first week of him staying goes well, just a lot of blushing and awkward comments. Nothing that can’t be survived. 

It’s on Thursday of the next week that you wake up to notice two things. You are completely wrapped in Luke’s arms, which is definitely NOT how you fell asleep. And, there‘s a poke at your back that you don’t think is one of Alex’s drum sticks. A shiver goes down your spine and you feel your body heat up a little at the thought. Your alarm goes off about two minutes later, waking Luke. 

He groggily opens his eyes, “Oh, hey there princess,” he smirks at your scowl in response to the nickname he started calling you when he learned that you needed at least 6 pillows to sleep. 

He doesn’t seem to register your position or his situation for another minute. You can pinpoint the exact moment it hits him because his eyes go wide and he jumps so hard he falls off of your bed. 

You start to laugh at his antics, when your mom knocks on your door, “Everything okay in there sweetie?” You hear her call.

“Yeah, yeah. I just tripped,” you huff out a laugh and she seems to buy it because you hear her retreating footsteps. 

“So, uhm,” Luke clears his throat.

“I’m gonna go get ready,” you cut him off, grabbing some clothes quickly and heading for the bathroom across the hall. 

It’s not until you reach the bathroom and you’re halfway through getting dressed that you realized you grabbed Luke’s Sunset Curve shirt by mistake. You decide to make the most of it, tying it up so it’s not so big on you and leaves a small patch of skin showing between the top of your ripped jeans and the bottom of the t-shirt. 

You walk back into your room, and Luke is sitting on your bed, waiting. Your mom and dad have left for work by now, so he wasn’t worried about being caught. 

When you enter, he looks up and his mouth drops open. His eyes trail up your body, stopping at the exposed skin on your stomach, then up to your eyes. His face is red as a cherry, yours most likely matching. He clears his throat, “Is tha- is that my shirt?” 

You meet his eyes, darker than usual, “Yeah, I hope that’s okay. I accidentally grabbed it and didn’t have time to come back and find another.” 

“No, no. It’s completely fine.” He can’t take his eyes off you all day, and his face keeps looking like his brain short circuited whenever he sees you. According to Julie, at least. 

~~~~

That night, you decide to just untie his shirt and wear it with shorts as pajamas, hair in a messy bun. Luke crawls through your window while you’re doing homework and when he sees you his jaw literally drops again, “Holy shit.”

“What now, Luke?” You sigh, trying to get some of your calculus done. You haven’t been able to focus lately, head full of fantasies with a certain messy-headed, puppy-eyed, brunette. 

Something in him snaps because grabs your books and sets them on the ground with a surprising amount of care. He gets on your bed, arms on either side of you. 

“You really don’t know what you’re doing to me? God, Y/N, you’re driving me crazy. First you invite me to stay in your bed with you, which is so sweet of you. But then you go and prance around in tiny shorts and a tank top every night. Then this morning you walk in here wearing my shirt and think I’m not going to get turned on? Especially when I’ve been in love with you, basically since middle school. Then this? You might not know it, but you’ve been teasing me since the second you got here. So please, please let me kiss you because I don’t think I can go another second when you look like that.” 

You blink, trying to take in his speech, “Wait, like what?” You question, still feeling insecure. 

“Like an absolute angel, with my shirt on and tiny shorts, and your hair pulled up like that. Oh my god, you’re so gorgeous.” 

Your breath hitches for a second, realizing everything he just said. Then you grab him by the neck of his shirt and kiss him hard. 

He enthusiastically kisses back. You lay back on the bed and he follows, arms on either side of your head. 

He starts kissing down your neck, and you moan, grateful for your parents being out tonight. 

“Luke, no marks please.”

He leans back and smiles at you, “Too late for that one, princess.” Then goes to make another, before you pull him up a little so you can at least give him a hickey too.

His breath speeds up and you smile wickedly, “Now we‘re even.”

He pulls you back to his lips and starts pretty much attacking your mouth, biting your bottom lip occasionally. You pull back again, only to kiss under his ear, hand sliding under his shirt to splay across his toned stomach. His hips buck into yours in reaction, gasping at the feeling. 

You mirror his movement, making him groan, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Both of your hips are rolling against each other, and you pull his face back down to yours, kissing his swollen lips again. 

Your hands move to the top of his jeans and he pulls away from your mouth again, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“Absolutely,” you smile at the boy in front of you, “Oh, and, I’m in love with you too.”

tags (everyone who responded to my post about this request or I think would want to be tagged): @lukessimp @thatfandomgirl14 @lukes-orange-beanie @spiidergirlsworld @charminggirl-cs @peresphoncs @lovesanimals @hoodpankow @midnightmagicmusings

[lumosinlove]

Between Fifth And You

AO3

chapter two

~

It’s Saturday night for Manhattan’s elite, and we know what that means. The Noble House of Black beckons, and one particularly family seems to be a little behind on preparations—at least, their youngest son is.

Spotted—Logan Tremblay, looking hot in nothing but basketball shorts. Better soak up that fading blue August heat while you can, Lo. Or are you more interested in something a little more…fiery? But in the LES? Why so far from home, Dorothy? Eye color isn’t the only thing green about the Tremblay family. And they have a bad habit of sorting everything out with a little help from Ben Franklin.

“Shoot, shoot!”

Logan pivoted on his heel and was able to toss the ball around his opponent’s shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of red hair as Finn caught it with ease and jumped it up to the rim.

Finn O’Hara. One of these days Logan was going to step on his own shoes watching Finn O’Hara. His pale chest looked like sugar dusting, his exertion-red cheeks the goddamn cherry.

“Point moo-oi!” Finn shouted, slapping Will Morgan and Percy Marshall on their bare backs. “That’s how you say it, right, Tremblay?”

Logan feigned a shudder. “Non.”

“Shorty’s got game,” Will laughed, sweat dripping down his dark brown skin, darkening the leather bracelets he wore.

Percy shook his head, swallowing over a caught-breath, his silver Star of David swinging at his throat. “Shorty must be cheating with his Upper Side shoes.”

Logan just narrowed his eyes and laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re just tall. Doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mazel tov, you fucker.”

“I’m finally winning,” Finn grinned. “And now I gotta get back to the shop. I said be back in five…pretty sure it’s been fifty-five.”

Logan swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll walk you.”

Percy slapped him on the back as they left, and Finn held the cage door of the basketball court open for him.

“So, you’re back at school?” Finn asked as he pulled his shirt on. Logan nodded, following suit, picking at the neck where it stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I’m supposed to be getting fitted for a suit right now.”

Finn snorted. “What does that have to do with school?”

“Oh,” the corner of Logan’s mouth raised as he realized. “Nothing, I…well, you know. The social scene. It sort of all feels like one thing, up there.”

Finn pouted at him. “Poor baby. Too many parties.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan laughed.

“Hey, feel like lunch?”

“I thought you had to be back.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Logan bit his lip, wondering how many different ways his older sisters could actually kill him. Honestly, he thought he’d just die on the spot of he passed up the change to be squeezed into one of the small restaurants that Finn frequented. Screw the grand tables of his life. Logan wanted cracked leather booths small enough to let their ankles brush. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

Finn didn’t disappoint. They walked down the shade of Mott street, then turned at a bakeshop on the corner. Finn pointed at it.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Logan raised a shoulder. “I don’t get down here much.”

Finn snorted. “Listen to you. Down here. You’re down here enough to pop into my bookstore all the time.”

Logan studied the cakes in the windows, biting his lip when he realized Finn’s eyes were still on him in the reflection. “I…yeah.”

Finn flicked the bill of Logan’s hat which shaded the back of his neck. “How’s that latest book you bought?”

Logan turned away from the window to get them walking again, not sure where they were going but trusting Finn to lead. “I’m starting school, man, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finn just laughed. “Come on, let’s catch the 6.”

Logan found himself squeezed into a tiny French restaurant in the West Village that served them even tinier croissants.

“I know the chef,” Finn said popping one he had spread jam and butter on into his mouth. “Dumo. Don’t pay a cent. I fucking love these things.”

Logan would have bought Finn a thousand of the tiny pastries without a blink just to see him lick a bit of jam from his thumb again.

“Dumo doesn’t sound very French…” Logan began cutting up his waffle.

Finn laughed. “Pascal Dumais does.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Logan glanced at a woman and her baby, who had started crying. He tried to think of something to say. For someone who’s job seemed to be making small talk at various parties and charming people with his accent—or so his mother sometimes said—he sure was horrible at it.

“So, what’s the suit for?” Finn asked, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“A fashion show,” Logan sighed, hiding his surprise—and maybe delight—at Finn’s unknowing shrug. “It’s…sort of a lot. Lots of people and cameras. And I always have to wear something green.”

Finn hummed in understanding. “It’s the eyes, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “A lot of fast English, too.”

Finn tilted his head. “I didn’t know that was hard for you. You’re perfect.”

Logan tried not to flush and covered it with a shrug. “I lived in France until I was fifteen before we finally moved to my dad. It’s still nice to be able to read lips sometimes. With the flashes and they make it super dark…I don’t know.”

“No, that makes sense,” Finn said, brown eyes soft. He smiled. “Hey, well, if you don’t want to go to the fitting, come man the shop with me. I’d love the company.”

Logan looked at him and ached, but saw his older sister Noelle’s pleading, excited expression in his mind. He might not love the scene, but he loved his sisters. “I wish I could. Really.”

They finished up their food and Logan had to admit that he lingered over his coffee until Finn said he absolutely had to leave.

“Hey, Tremblay,” Finn called from down the sidewalk, and Logan turned in the full knowledge that seeing the smile Finn sent him would only make him want to stay more.

The dutiful son wants the bookshop boy…I don’t know, Lo. How will their royal highnesses feel about that?

“Come buy more books you don’t read soon, okay?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “D’accord.”

Finn walked backwards a few steps, yelling, “And bring me something green!” before turning and jogging down the subway stairs.

Logan laughed as he called his driver to him, escaping the heat for air conditioned leather.

XOXO

Pearls or diamonds, Upper Siders? Armani or Ralph? What, like you have other questions tonight?

Well, I have one for you. A tip from a friendly scroller gave me a peak at tonight’s guest list. Do you think we’re in for more than just a showdown on the runway? Cat fights over cat walks is what I always say.

XOXO.

[Image description: Two name cards reading, from left to right, Leo Knut and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Sebastian Montague]

Remus found Julian already dressed and tapping at a game on his phone when he descended the winding staircase of their penthouse.

“You waiting for mom and dad?” Remus said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“And you,” Julian said.

“Right, right,” Remus smoothed his black tuxedo, trying to ignore the subtle glint of blue-silver embroidered into the black velvet. His mother was a planner—which Remus liked usually—but this design had not aged well. This suit had a twin that it no longer belonged with. Remus clenched his jaw as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d hoped wearing it would feel like defiance.

But it only felt like he was lonely. He gave his head a hard shake. He had Leo. He couldn’t let New York throw him.

“Gossip Girl’s going crazy. Of course,” Julian said.

“Jules, you shouldn’t read that stuff,” Remus sighed. “It’s just gossip—”

“Just posted about Sirius,” Julian murmured.

Remus huffed, pushing his hair out of its too neat style in the mirror. “So?”

Julian shrugged, but pointedly looked away when Remus took out his own phone.

The photo looked like one from the paparazzi, but the sight of Sirius on the red carpet made Remus’ throat close up.

I spy a statement piece. Or maybe it’s just a statement. Sirius Black arrives on the red carpet—or should I say black carpet—with none other than New York’s favorite icon, in worship and fashion alike. The Saint of these streets is looking particularly dashing tonight, hand in hand with the heir of this city. Ouch, Re. Looks like you’ve been dethroned.

Remus stared down at the screen, neck hot. Sirius’ suit sleeves had the barely there leather half moon cut-outs that Remus remembered tracing onto his skin.

Sirius had smiled into their kiss. Think anyone will notice?

Remus had just laughed. Everyone will notice.

But there was Saint, a crown of moonstones in his golden hair.

Remus looked down at his own suit. Of course Saint had thought of a way they’d match, that was all it was, but it still felt like a snub.

“I sort of miss him,” Julian said quietly.

Remus’ heart pulled. He swallowed and clicked his phone off. He looked at Julian, who looked almost sheepish.

“Do you?” Julian asked even more quietly.

“Don’t you like Leo?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Julian nodded quickly. “But…”

“Remus,” Hope smiled, coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with their father. “Jules. Ready, boys?”

Remus didn’t think saying no was an option. He cleared his throat, pushed his hair back.

“Almost,” he said, backtracking towards the stairs. “Just a second. Gotta call Leo, make sure he hasn’t left yet.”

XOXO

“We can watch a livestream of the red carpet and the show,” Natalie said. “Sit.”

Finn groaned, squished beside Natalie on her tiny sofa. “That feels like I’m stalking him.”

“We’re allowed to stalk the boys we like.”

“You’re dating my brother, Nat. Does this mean you stalked him?”

“It really does,” Alex said, coming in from the kitchen with their margaritas and dropping a kiss to Natalie’s temple.

“Hm,” Natalie smiled up at him, accepting a kiss to her lips. “Scruffy.”

Finn sighed and pulled a knee up to his chest, watching the loading video Natalie had pulled up.

“Your wifi sucks,” he mumbled.

“It’ll load,” Natalie scooted over for Alex and passed Finn his drink.

“Salsa, too,” Finn said, waving it over.

Finally, the video popped up to a view of the red carpet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Natalie laughed. “It’s fashion!”

“Look,” Alex sighed. “I know they’re wealthy and it’s suppose to be all, I don’t know sandy beaches and wristwatches, but not a single one of these people look remotely happy. Like take a look at this guy—“

Finn looked over the sandy-haired man posing in front of the cameras—well, not posing, really. Kasey Winter, the commentators were saying.

“Nice hair,” Natalie crunched on a chip. “And listen to that, his mother’s one of the biggest producers at Weird Sisters Records.”

“Fine, but he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. I mean, anyone else think its kind of fucked up that the New York families go to a New York university where New York businesses draw from New York’s elite?”

“Yes,” Finn and Natalie said in unison.

And then there was Logan.

Finn let out an embarrassing sound and set his drink down, leaning forward.

Logan walked out in front of the cameras with three girls—his sisters, Finn remembered. Not to mention he followed all of them on Instagram. They had a lot of shoes, sure, but they seemed all right.

“I saw this thing on Gossip Girl about one of the sisters,” Natalie said. “She—”

“Nat, why the hell do you read that?”

Natalie shot him a look. “Like you don’t.”

Finn ignored them, too focused on the dark, nearly black, velvety green cape—or was it cloak?—that covered Logan’s shoulders down to above his elbows, falling to an elegant point at the small of his back over his black suit. The sisters had a similar get-up in one way or another—a green train, a shawl, a corset. Logan’s clasp was a silver fleur-de-lis.

“Green,” Finn breathed.

“What?” Alex asked.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek at Logan’s expression. It was meant to be blank, Finn thought, at-ease and untouchable, but it came off almost enticing. His dark eyelashes swept against his cheeks. Finn watched his throat bob around a swallow, his adored eyes shifting from flash to flash.

“Nothing,” Finn answered his brother.

“How’d you meet this kid anyway, Fish?” his brother asked.

“I was closing up shop about a month ago,” Finn said. “And he stopped at one of our windows. Looked like he’d run the entire island, he was breathing so hard. Not to mention it was pouring like nothing else. Thought he was gonna pass out, so I unlocked the door and let him in to get dry. I don’t know, he was kind of shy at first. Listened to me talk for about an hour before he started giving anything back.” Finn shrugged, watching Logan walk off screen. “I invite him to play basketball with me, Morg, and Percy now. We get lunch after sometimes.”

Natalie sighed. “He looked like one unhappy camper.”

“I think his family puts a lot of pressure on him. He’s the baby. Only son. All that bullshit.”

“I kind of want that cape,” Natalie said.

Alex sighed. “That’s the idea.”

Natalie slapped his chest, then kissed his cheek, and Finn watched Logan walk off-screen.

XOXO

“What say you, Capulet?”

Sirius looked down at Saint at his shoulder. “They’re out of crab puffs.”

“Boo,” Saint said. “You still closing the show?”

“Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you be in hair and makeup?”

“Yep.”

Saint stepped in front of him, the gold band of moonstones nestled in his curls glinting in the dark stage lights. “Looking for someone?”

Sirius just reached out and ran a gentle thumbnail beneath where Saint’s golden eyeliner had smudged against his brown skin, striking it back to a point. “Nope. See you after the show.”

Saint clucked his tongue. “I’m unimpressed.”

“What else is new?” Sirius said.

Saint went to smile, when his eyes flickered behind Sirius and he raised his eyebrows. “That.”

Sirius turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. The cameras were going wild, and in front of all the flashing lights was Remus, hand-in-hand with Leo Knut.

“They make a sunshine pair,” Saint said from beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

Sirius touched two fingers to one of the black-leather moons on his jacket sleeve. They were meant to go with Remus’ stars. He remembered planning for them. He’d thought…part of him had thought if he’d worn them tonight—

“Cloudy sky,” he replied to Saint.

“I was gonna say dappled sunlight in…” Saint glanced around. “A dark forest.”

Remus and Leo were wearing dress shirts, collars rumpled and unbuttoned at their throats, each in a smooth shade of cream. Their hands, decked out in golden rings, were laced together, and they both wore pale gray slacks, slim cut, and laceless nikes.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…hmm, but don’t I spy some burning jealous?

“What are we going for here,” Saint raised an eyebrow. “Left in a hurry and didn’t get the dress code?”

“We’re going against me,” Sirius replied, slipping his hands into his pockets and trying to stand straight. “That’s all.”

“Sunlight in a dark forest, indeed.”

Sirius watched them looking out over the flashes, and tried not to look surprised when golden eyes met his own. Remus’ expression didn’t change either. Instead, he simply blinked, then looked away. Leo, tall and lean, leaned into his ear, and Remus smiled. The cameras popped like champagne.

I love right here, Sirius remembered his own voice, the feeling of the soft skin by Remus’ eye beneath his thumb. I love right here when you smile.

“I need to get backstage,” Sirius said shortly, and turned on his heel.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t I know,” Sirius called as he weaved his way through the crowd, heading backstage. The woman with a radio in her ear looked annoyed and nervous when he slipped past her, and radioed that he had arrived to whoever it was that needed to know.

“Sirius!” Alice called, hands full of makeup brushes and up in the air. “Jesus Christ, do you think I have all fucking night?”

Sirius shrugged out of his red carpet jacket—which someone took—and slid into her chair. “Sorry, Al.”

She twirled a protective cape around his shoulders, snapping it at the base of his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. But then again, I think everyone’s pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes, letting her begin. “People are.”

Alice had just finished contour when Sirius all but felt his mother’s presence. A shift in the air. A cooler wind. People standing up straighter and shivering.  

“Sirius,” his mother’s face appeared in the mirror. Her red lipstick was the brightest thing about her, and even that was almost mauve. Her dress was tight around her breasts, but cascaded in thick waves of velvet behind her, and she wore tall leather boots. It almost looked like armor. “You’re very late, darling.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “Saint and I got caught up in the crowd, I guess.”

She hummed. “You two looked fetching out there. He’s much more pleasing than that other boy ever was. His family is important, too.”

It was true, that his mother had never liked Remus much. Though, Sirius couldn’t compare him and Saint. They were two different oceans.

“Get dressed,” his mother breathed, and was already snapping her fingers at one of the other models before Sirius could say another word.

“All right?” Alice asked him quietly.

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. Her contour made his face look almost gaunt, as was the general makeup for all of the models, and he knew he’d be given dark eye makeup next, his hair fluffed into perfect curls.

“Fine,” Sirius said, and closed his eyes to let her work.

Sirius was shrugging into his given outfit—a billowing longcoat, 20th century in fashion, and a longer tunic made almost entirely of the thinnest black silk. It would shimmer when he walked, he knew, and his tall, lace-up boots, the flat sole so thin and delicate that he almost felt barefoot, would disappear beneath the shimmer. His mother was cold, stubborn, and cruel sometimes, an unfeeling, yawning sort of dark, but she was talented.

“Lord Vader,” came a voice from behind him, and Sirius laughed even before he turned to face Thomas Walker.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius said, and they clasped hands, pulling them into a one-armed hug. “You look fantastic, though.”

Thomas spun slowly on his heel, letting the long, loose fitting white linen of his button-down—which went out in two, tuxedo-like tails at his back—flare out above his slim, black trousers. He wore a thin scarf of distressed wool.

“Like a fallen gentleman, no?” Thomas grinned. “I might try and steal these pants. And maybe the shirt for Noelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius smiled, spying Noelle’s green eyes behind his shoulder. “She’ll love that.”

Noelle wrapped her arms, which were draped in a transparent green cloth, around Thomas’ waist. “Thanks for thinking of me, T baby.”

Thomas laughed in surprise. “Who let you back stage?”

“I’m a Tremblay, they’ll let us in anywhere.”

Thomas turned his head to capture Noelle in a soft kiss.

“See you after, hm?” Noelle said. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friend, she’s walking tonight, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll ride to Honeyduke’s together.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow at him. “You coming, Black?”

“Saint all but owns the place,” Sirius said. “Of course I am.”

Sirius walked. He didn’t look down, or hear the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, to be up here, not able to see past the lights—but something tonight was different. It felt as it had the night of his and Remus’ first kiss.

In that show, he had had one, thin line of black lipstick traced over the center of his bottom lip. It had marked Remus’ throat and cheeks like soot by the end of it all.

Remus had been waiting for him back stage.

“Come here,” Remus had whispered, and laced their fingers together.

“Where?” Sirius had answered, surprised by their palms pressing together.

But it hadn’t been a place. Remus had pressed them back in between clothing racks, and crashed their mouths together.

Here, Remus had whispered, and kissed him again.

Sirius felt the absence of the stage lights like a wash of cold air, and he stretched out his back, letting his stony face drop a little. He glanced around, but there was no one to be found. His cheeks were warm just thinking about it.

“Good,” his mother said as he passed her by to take off the makeup, and that was all.

XOXO

Saint looked across Honeyduke’s and felt like it was his. Logan was laughing with Thomas and Noelle, and he had Kasey Winter beside him, securing tickets to one of their favorite bands to see together.

“Done,” Kasey said, and flashed one of his rare smiles.

“I knew you were my favorite,” Saint took a sip of his drink, and Kasey scoffed.

“Me or my mom?”

“Maybe a little of both. Oh, and we’re going to sushi beforehand.”

Kasey’s smile was larger now. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. You gonna leave with that drummer again? What’s her name?”

Saint smiled. “Oh, Sally. And I make it a habit to always leave with the drummer.”

Kasey just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a drink and leaving you to your one-liners.”

Saint watched him go, feeling settled, and set about scanning the room for Sirius. He was sure he’d know if he was there—people tended to swarm to Sirius, even if he didn’t ask for it. It was part of the reason they were so close. People flocked to Saint, too. So, they asked for each other’s company. A more intimate, calm part of life. Sirius was quiet. Saint wasn’t, but he let Saint , for a moment, be that way, too. Saint was loud. Sirius wasn’t, but Saint had his ways to fire him up.

“Another drink, sir?”

Saint looked over his shoulder, only to turn all the way around, interest peaked. The bartender had sandy hair, and a strong jaw, his cheeks textured by acne scars in some places. He had brown eyes—save for a sliver of green in one.

“Only if you have one with me,” Saint said, and glanced down at his name-tag. “Luke.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, pressing the heels of his palms onto the bar between them, revealing rolled up sleeves and some type of vine tattoo, wrapping all around both of his forearms.

“I’m working, sir.”

“Is that a later?” he nodded at the tattoo. “Nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke said.

“Oh, no?”

Luke scowled—how did he look so handsome doing that?

“Do you make it a habit to go home with all the waiters, too?”

Saint didn’t let his expression flicker, just smiled nice and slow.

“Hillrock,” Saint said. “Neat.”

The barkeep turned away.

Ouch. Looks like not everyone worships at your alter, Saint.

XOXO

The elevator doors opened, revealing the party to Sirius one outfit after the next. He had changed for the afterparty—the first of three. He wore a tight, thin black t-shirt and dark jeans. He hadn’t bothered to wash off the dark, smudged eyeliner from the show. His combat boots went up to just below his knee, and had the same nearly naked feeling sole. It made him feel soundless, like a shadow.

Maybe that’s why it was easy to find Remus and stand beside him without him stirring.

“You’re a little underdressed,” Sirius said without looking at him.

“Says the boy wearing a t-shirt,” Remus replied evenly.

Sirius scowled. “I meant at the show.”

“People like to be surprised,” Remus replied evenly.

“Who’s Leo?”

“My boyfriend.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Remus matched him. They were nearly chest to chest. “You didn’t say a word to me in class.”

“You didn’t—“

“I had the last word,” Remus snapped. “I figured maybe you’d finally have something to say back.”

Sirius stared at him, heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he let himself look. At the golden eyes, hair more blond than ever from the summer’s sun. Sirius couldn’t stand that mouth set in a frown.

“Guess not,” Remus said softly, lips dropping open in the way they used to before they kissed.

Sirius all but felt him vanish into the writhing crowd.

XOXO

Finn looked up when a flash of color on the morning-silent street outside caught his eye. He set the books he was holding down, took the pen out from between his teeth.

Green.

“What the hell?” Finn laughed as he pulled open the door to his bookshop to find Logan standing there. “It’s five in the fucking morning, what are you doing here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Never did,” Logan said, and that’s when Finn saw that Logan was still in his suit from the livestream.

“Ah, I see,” Finn said, eyes flicking up and down his broad form. He swallowed dryly. “The nature of afterparties, I suppose. Well, you—you look good. For someone who’s been up all night, I mean.”

Logan just smiled, one of his small, secretive ones. Finn watched as he stepped forward so they were almost toe to toe in the doorway.

“Wh…” Finn’s voice dropped off with a breathless laugh. He couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth. His full lips that could speak a language Finn couldn’t even begin to describe.

Logan just reached up to the base of his own throat and unclipped the fleur-de-lis clasp there. In one smooth swoop, he drew his short cloak from his shoulders and around Finn’s, right over his worn gray t-shirt, clicking it in place. The fabric brought a gentle scent, and he figured it must be Logan’s cologne.

“Something green,” Logan said softly. A warm, early morning breeze ruffled his hair, pushing the curls forward. Finn couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

“Inventory,” Finn whispered, then cleared his throat. “Inventory.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll help.”

[albatris]

here's what I thought about today and it's super fucking silly and idk if I'll use it but like. here we go

so quinn and nat's first conversation is NOT the encounter they have in the petrol station after nat accidentally kills a guy. although nat thinks this is the first time he's spoken to quinn

alex and quinn do a lot of fun background work trying to figure out as much as they can about nat before nat inevitably Snaps And Turns. except nat is a hermit whose personal information is wildly difficult to track down and they can barely find an email address let alone valuable info about his history and personal life and whatever

like. they can tail him and watch him but like. he doesn't have friends and he doesn't speak with family and he doesn't leave his apartment if he can avoid it. he goes to work and is in bland generic Customer Service Mode with customers and bland generic You Are A Vague Acquaintance I Have To Put Up With mode with coworkers. he has a favourite pizza restaurant. occasionally he says hi to a neighbour if he passes them. that's it. that's what they're working with

but anyway yeah no I think the first conversation quinn actually has with him happens because in the midst of being like "who the fuck is this guy and how are we supposed to find an angle to approach him that'll get him to trust us" quinn just kind of. stumbles onto nat in their call centre database and is like. lmao alright

because nat makes the occasional donation to fucking wildlife charities. bc he loves animals. and it just happens to be one of the places quinn's company works for to call folks and be like :) hey do you wanna give us money :) hey we'd love some more money :) except, like, in a polite and grateful way

so quinn is just like. fuck it I'm gonna call this guy. I wanna see what his vibe is

so they put on a dumb voice and make up a fake name and they have one extremely awkward phone conversation which is just like

quinn starting off with the generic hey how are you thanks so much for your support <3 and the usual company spiel. except it just devolves into uncomfortably personal questions and prying

hopping from the generic "haha this weather is crazy right?" and "so what made you want to donate? :)"

to the still vague but kinda weird "anything interesting or inexplicable happen to you lately? you wanna talk about it?" and "oh how did you sleep last night, have you been sleeping badly?"

to straight up bizarre bullshit no call centre employee would ever feasibly use for small talk like "do you have any roommates? how many?" and "how does your mouth feel?" and "how come you don't have any social media?"

until nat just gets freaked out enough that he hangs up

and I can't decide whether this conversation is funnier from quinn's perspective or nat's

and I think it'll be a quinn pov scene. bc while I love the image of nat answering the phone to this bonkers conversation with zero context and having juuuuust enough awareness of social cues and how one should carry themself in this type of interaction that he knows this is probably weird, but not quite enough that he's CERTAIN this is weird. until it gets to a point where he's like yeah no I'm out

on the other hand. like. quinn in their little call centre booth just like. smiling and twirling the phone cord round their finger like a teenager at a slumber party calling their crush. except it's just them terrorising this poor confused soon-to-be-vampire and being like "mm-hmm and what are your biggest fears, would you say? no, yeah, it's for a survey, we're asking everyone <3"

[achillestiel]

For @smiledean 🎉 Happy birthday for tomorrow Ali 🎉 here is a fluffy Teacher AU wherein all their students ship it

“Oh my god did you see them this morning?”

“Walking in together with coffee? Oh yeah. So freaking cute”

“I'm sure Mr Collins held the door open for Dean too.”

"Kaia I swear to God, I'm close to locking them in a classroom together."

There were three well known truths at Lawrence High school. The first; never trust the tuna surprise on Fridays. The second; the east stairwell would always smell like weed no matter what. The third was that Mr Collins and Mr Winchester were stupidly in love with each other.

As far as teachers went, Claire liked Mr. Winchester. No other teacher let the class call them by their first name. Dean would chat with them like he was a friend, play music during class and didn't care if they snacked while he spoke about the 1960's art movements. Still, if he didn't stop making doe eyes at her English teacher, Claire was going to stab him with a paintbrush.

Thursday's art class after lunch was just like all the others. Claire waltzed in, Kaia and Alex right next to her, to see Dean at his desk grinning over at the man leaning against the nearest table. The remains of their lunches next to them. Mr Collins would say something that wasn't funny but Dean would still laugh like it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard. Seriously, pre-school kids were more subtle than they were.

The whole thing had begun at the start of junior year. Mr Collins had joined the English department and students had quickly caught on that he had eyes for their art teacher. The two would laugh in the halls between classes, seek each other despite their departments being on the opposite ends of the school and shamelessly flirt. There had been a point two months prior when Claire was convinced they'd finally gotten a clue. For a whole week Dean and Mr Collins had carpooled in together when Mr Collins' Prius had broken down. Sadly, it seemed they were both clueless morons.

*More below the cut + tag list*

"Hey guys, grab a table and we'll carry on with our discussion on the Minimalist movement before you get started on your pieces." Dean called out as he cleared the remains of his lunch off his desk. Mr Collins whispered something to Dean, who laughed and nodded his head. Kaia just rolled her eyes as she grabbed the usual desk they all say at.

"I'll find that book out for you after my lesson. See you later." Mr Collins said to Dean.

"Catch you later Cas." Dean called while Mr Collins cleared off the table he'd been leaning against and hurried out the classroom.

Dean launched into his discussion on the Minimalist movement, occasionally stopping to sip lukewarm coffee out a mug shaped like a car tire. Everyone knew Mr Collins had given Dean that mug for Christmas. Dean had given Mr Collins one with a smiling bumblebee on it, cartoon font spelling out Bee Happy. They really were ridiculous. While students were taking notes, it was less about Dean's lecture and more about how blatantly obvious Dean and Mr Collins were.

"Any questions?" Dean asked. Claire's hand instantly shot up. Sure, she'd probably get detention for this but she was done. "Claire?"

"Dean, when are you going to ask Mr Collins out on a date?" She asked. The whole class fell silent, their eyes fixed on Dean who had gone the deepest shade of red Claire had ever seen.

"What? I...well...I…" Dean stammered out. "Cas doesn't... we're just friends."

"Seriously? Are you blind?" Alex then asked, forgoing putting her hand in the air. "Dude, we've had to sit through nearly an entire year of you guys flirting."

Dean's face was the shade of beetroot. "What? No...we...Cas...friends." he mumbled, scratching at his neck.

"They have a point Dean." Krissy said from the back of the room. "We were assigned Little Beast in English last week. Someone pointed out to Mr Collins that it kind of sounded like you and he blushed."

"What? He blushed? Really?" Dean asked, still bright red but with the smallest of a smile on his face. Ha! Busted.

"Went bright red, worse than you now." Kaia said smugly.

"So...let's say I asked him to go to a gallery showing with me tonight...do you think he'd say yes?" Dean asked.

"Yes!" The entire class cried.

"And you all think this?" Dean asked.

"Yes."

"Wow...oh...um…" Dean mumbled. "Yes Claire?" He asked when Claire thrust her hand back in the air.

"Dean, just ask him. If we're still sitting here just before graduation speculating about you two, we are going to go crazy." Claire said and several people in the class nodded.

"Ok...if I say that I'll do it can we get some work done?" Dean asked. The entire class nodded. "Cool...I'll ask him at the end of the day." Dean said, his cheeks still blushed with red but now his smile was even wider.

On Friday morning the entire school was awash with the news that a certain Mr Winchester and Mr Collins had driven into school together. They had even held hands when walking into the building. Dean played classic rock love ballads in his classroom for the entire day.

Tag List (if you want to be included in future writing just let me know):

@smiledean ​ @a-profoundbond ​ @poetcastiel ​ @castielsbeeslippers ​ 

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

I’ll be here to fix you

Tom Holland

masterlist

Warnings: OK, this has to do with domestic violence and an abusive relationship. Also just violence, and blackmail (kinda) so *Trigger warning*

For anonymous, confidential help, 24/7, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or  1-800-787-3224 (TTY)

A/N: If you are in an unsafe relationship, please reach out for help, and know it is not your fault.

A/N.2: I really debated posting this, for many reasons, so i’m sorry if this upsets or triggers anyone in anyway..

It was late when his phone began to ring, most times, he wouldn't answer calls this late, but that night something prompted him to answer. Without even a glance at his phone, he answered, bringing it to his ear. 

“Tommy?” your voice was frantic through the phone, almost like you had been running all while crying. “Tommy, are you there?” 

“I'm here love, what's wrong? Where are you?” He sat straight up in bed, the worry for you waking him up completely. 

“I sent you my location, can you just come and get me?” It was odd for you to ask him for anything, while you were best friends, you were always very adamant on being your own person, something Tom respected a whole lot. 

“I'm on my way,” Tom didn't even take any time to get dressed or anything, grabbing his keys and getting to his car in nothing but his grey sweats and old shirt he'd taken from the spider man set that he had been asleep in.

You weren't far from him, a five minute drive and he found you, sitting on a curb with your face buried in your hands. As soon as you heard the car, you glanced up, seeing it was him and practically running to get in. Once you were situated, you turned, giving Tom a light smile and nod, before looking back out the window, but he wasn't blind.

“Y/N-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“Tom, just.. Take me back to your house, we can talk about it there. I don't want to be here anymore,” you sniffled as the tears that had subsided made their way back to your eyes, “Please?” You added, small sobs escaping. 

Tom obliged your request, with no questions asked, and headed straight to his house. As soon as he parked the car, you were out and rushed inside, leaving Tom worried and angry. Angry at whoever left you like that. 

Tom tried to give you time, to cry or  wash up or whatever you were doing locked in his bathroom, but he just found himself pacing back and forth in front of the door. Finally, he couldn't take it, and knocked on the door. “Y/N?” he heard sniffles as he pressed his ear to the door, it broke his heart to hear you like that, you were his happy go lucky y/n, even if you weren't actually his. 

“Am i a terrible person?” you asked through the door. 

“What? No, of course not y/n, you're the best person i know!” Tom exclaimed, he was taken aback by the fact that you could ever even think that you were anything less than perfect, less then the way he saw you. 

“He told me I was selfish, and awful, and I put you above everything else, which makes me a slut,” you said, unlocking the door and opening it. Tom felt his jaw clench, hearing the words coming from your mouth and seeing the bruise that was forming by your eye. You looked terrible, your eyes were bloodshot from tears, your nose raw from blowing it over and over, and your hair was all over the place. 

“He said what?” Tom asked through clenched teeth. He could kill him, he would kill him, especially if he was the one that gave you the bruise. “Did he do this?” Tom reached out to touch your face but you flinched away from his hand, answering his question. He wouldn't let him get away with hurting someone, especially you.

Tom wasn't the most level headed person, some would even describe him as not being able to deal with his anger well, and in this instance he could agree he didn't handle himself as well as he could have.

The metal jail door slid open “Holland, you're free to go,” Tom sat up from where he had been laying on the concrete bench, not sure why he was being released, he was sure with how the events of last night had played out, there was no way he should be let out. 

He followed the guard to the counter where they had a bag full of his personal things, before motioning for him to leave. He walked out of the police station puzzled, until he saw you standing against his car with crossed arms and a worried look on your face. 

“Thomas Stanley Holland,” you said with a stern voice. Your face was back to how it usually looked, making tom figure you had makeup on, to cover the reminder of the night before.

“How did you get me out?” Tom asked you, worried you had gone out of your way to pull of some crazy jailbreak mission.  

“I told him I would not press charges if he wouldn't press charges on you,” you told him. Tom felt his jaw clench again, you were unbelievable sometimes. 

“What Y/N?! I would have been fine!” He exclaimed, making you roll your eyes. 

“I don't really think an assault charge would be good for your career, Tommy,” of course you were right, and avoiding a charge all together was probably best for his career, but that didn't mean he was happy about it, Alex deserved to be punished for what he had done to you, and if that meant Tom went down for defending you then so be it, but he also knew arguing with you over it would get him nowhere.

“Well, i don't like it,” Tom went to grab the keys from your hands, but you quickly pulled your hand away, walking over to the drivers side and opening the door. 

“Y/N, it's my car,” Tom laughed. 

“And? I didn't spend the night in jail,” You shot him a smile before climbing in. You were also impossible at times, but that was part of the reason Tom was in love with you, and had been for quite a while. He wouldn't admit that to you though, he could barely admit it to himself. 

You drove to Tom's house, parking the car in the wrong spot of the driveway, on purpose to irritate him. “Go shower, Tommy you smell gross,” You teased. 

“I was only in there for like six hours!” He argued, shoving your shoulder lightly as you unlocked his front door. 

“Uh huh, whatever you say stinky,” you giggled. 

Tom went to his bathroom to shower away his night as a criminal, but he stopped when he saw your makeup scattered around his counter. He wasn't sure when you had brought it over, you hadn't had anything with you when he picked you up last night, not even your purse. He peeked his head into his bedroom and could see that his bed had been slept in, and you had a small bag of clothes on the floor by his dresser. A smile snuck onto his face, he had always told you that you had a place to go whenever you needed it, but you were so hard headed he was sure you would never actually take him up on that. On a whim, Tom decided to peek into his spare room before getting in the shower, and just like he had expected, there were a few bags and boxes of your personal things that were just waiting to be unpacked. “I should have asked, but I just needed to cut ties, get away from all of that,” You explained from behind him. 

“Y/N, you can stay as long as you'd like, i'm just glad you are here,” Tom told you, pulling you against his chest.

“Me to Tommy,” You sighed into his chest. 

“Y/N?” Tom asked while still holding you.

“Hmm?” You hummed into his chest. 

Tom really considered his next question, he didn't want to upset you, but he had to know. “Was that not the first time he hit you?” 

“I should have left months ago,” You whispered. “I just, I thought I could fix him, he was broken, and I'm a fixer, but instead of me fixing him, he broke me,” Tom felt the warmth of your tears on his chest. “It started off as little things, one fight he threw a rag at me, and then another he slammed the door on my hand, that's when I broke my fingers, and I kept telling myself it wouldn't escalate, and then last night.. He said that I was a slut, because I spent too much time with you, and I tried to argue that it was because you were just my best friend, and he slapped me across the face, and called me a liar.” you pulled away to look up at tom. “I'm a strong girl Tom, but I felt like next to nothing last night, and that's when I knew I had to get out.. I left and ran to the park and called you. Months of belittling, and name calling.. i didn't even see how bad it was, until it was to late,”

Tom's heart broke knowing this had been going on for months under his nose, that his y/n was hurting so much and he didn't even see it. He brought his thumb up to your bruise barely visible thanks to the makeup. He wasn't sure what exactly came over him, but he leaned down and kissed the spot ever so lightly. 

“He may have broken you y/n, but I'll be here to fix you, no matter how long it takes,” he whispered. You smiled at your best friend, your Tommy. Taking a chance, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, and pressed your lips into his. It had always been Tom, you were just way too stubborn to accept it. You pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“What happened last night tom?” You asked. You had only seen the aftermath, after Tom's phone call from the police station, informing you he'd been arrested. He rushed out so quickly, leaving you a mess in his bathroom. Then after his call, you had to uber to your apartment, finding it in shambles, from a physical fight. You knew you had to protect Tom. You couldn't let him go down to protect you. So you called Alex, telling him you were going to press charges, unless he promised to not press charges against Tom, and of course him being who he was, he agreed instantly, anything to keep his own name clean. morally, it probably wasn't the right decision, but you had to do what you had to do. 

“Well,” Tom started, thinking back to how he had acted, and what had actually transpired. 

Tom banged on the door, repeatedly, until Alex finally opened it. As soon as the door opened Tom shoved Alex pushing his way into the apartment. “Did you lay your hands on her?” he shouted. Causing a scoff out of Alex. 

“Of course she went crying to you, it's always you Holland,” he spat, pushing Tom back. 

The rest was a blur, Tom wasn't sure who threw the first punch, but he was sure who threw the last, and though he had been a little too rough, he didn't regret it, because he had done it for you.

Tom told you exactly how he had recalled the night, down to the police showing up. You were upset with him for jeopardizing his career, but you were also thankful to have someone like Tom, who would always come to your rescue when you allowed it. 

“Thank you Tommy,” You whispered. It would take time to recover from the last few months of your life, but you were sure with the help of Tom, and a little too much ice cream, you would come out on the other side stronger than ever.

[davidpastrsnack]

girls need love - mikko rantanen

a/n: here it finally is! mikko is absolutely adorable but also so hot and i think it’s time he gets some more love on here. this is filthy, but you probably already knew that lol. the title is from girls need love by summer walker ft drake, a bop that gave me so much inspo. also major shoutout to @hookingminor​ for always screaming about mikko with me. i hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think!

word count: 5k

You were completely zoned out, the sounds of the bar overcoming your senses as you stirred your nearly empty, watered-down drink. Nate and Tyson were howling about some locker room argument they had earlier that day while Tyson bumped into your shoulders, falling over in laughter at their foolery. The bodysuit you had on was driving you crazy, you wished so badly that you could be laying across in your sweats at home instead. 

You needed more alcohol if you were going to get through this night. Your gaze trailed to the bar, only to catch a glimpse of the one person you had been avoiding all night, a beautiful girl hanging off his arm drinking up whatever story he was telling. You subconsciously rolled your eyes at the way they were drooling over each other, pushing off the table with a scoff to go get another drink. 

It had been a rough week for you, but Tyson would not take no for an answer when he called you that morning asking you to go out with everyone. Just five days ago you had broken up with your boyfriend of a year and a half after finding half a lingerie set that did not belong to you under the bed in your shared apartment. Sure, you were beyond hurt that Alex would betray you like that, but it was almost alarming to you how quickly your anger turned to relief. 

It wasn’t that Alex hadn’t treated you well, until he didn’t, of course, but as the months passed in your relationship so did the excitement and passion. The two of you coexisted in that apartment, always saying hello and goodbye but there was barely anything in between. Not to mention the sex had plummeted downhill. He was never amazing in bed, but in the beginning, you still enjoyed it because you were having so much fun with him. Now you couldn’t even remember the last time you had an orgasm at the hands of someone other than yourself. 

You stomped up to the bar, your heeled booties clicking against the hardwood floor before they rested on the base of the stool you sat on. You easily grabbed the bartender’s attention, giving her your order before your head fell into your hands, running them through your hair while you waited. 

But of course, you couldn’t just get your drink in peace. Only minutes later you felt a body slide in next to you, shame crashing over you as you immediately recognized the scent of his cologne. You slowly lifted your head, your gaze locking with his as you confirmed that it was, in fact, Mikko. 

“What do you want?” you groaned, eyes squinting as you looked up at him.

It was taking everything within you not to drag your eyes down his body. He looked incredible, per usual. He was wearing all black, except for his crisp white designer sneakers. His bright blonde hair was longer than usual, the soft waves hanging over his forehead. His baby blue eyes were sparking down at you, slightly glazed over making it clear that he had his fair share of drinks tonight. His dark pink lips curved in a smirk as he heard your words, a comeback already falling off the tip of his tongue. 

“Why so grumpy, Y/N?” he teased, leaning his arms against the bartop encroaching on your personal space even more than his big body already was. 

“Not in the mood, Mikko,” you warned, smiling at the bartender as she slid you your drink. “What happened to your little friend, hmm?” 

The smirk on his face grew bigger, your jealousy not going over his head. 

“So you were watching me?” he grinned, patiently waiting for your response as you sip your drink. 

“It’s pretty hard to miss you when you’re eight feet tall,” you threw back, swinging your legs off the stool before heading back to the table. You meant it as an insult, but Mikko saw your bluff, just laughing as he watched you saunter away, his eyes lingering across your frame. His height was one of the things you found so disgustingly attractive about him and he knew it. 

You and Mikko had a complicated relationship, to say the least. 

You befriended Tyson over two years ago, one of your roommates briefly dated him and you hit it off when she introduced him to the group. You stayed in touch even after they broke up and you now considered him one of your closet friends in Denver. You were immediately welcomed into the crew of his teammates and Mikko caught your eye right away, the feeling mutual. He was in awe of you: the way you laughed at Gabe’s dad jokes, the way you blushed when EJ forced you two to talk, the way you cared so deeply for everyone in your life. You were perfect, but Mikko was as shy as they come. He stayed in his comfort zone, admiring you from a far distance despite the constant encouragement from the guys. He never garnered the courage to get to know you more personally, and before long you were with Alex. 

From that point on, your relationship turned from polite acquaintances to the two members of the group that were constantly going at each other. Mikko had been beating himself up for letting you go and it was easier for him to deflect his feelings through meaningless chirps. You felt the same way. You loved spending time with Alex but part of you always wondered what it would have been like if you had just made a move with Mikko. 

Now that you were single again, you couldn’t help but think about if things could change. So much had happened since you first met, but the physical attraction was still heavy between you two, if not more now that you didn’t have any reason to feel guilty for it. 

You slid back into the booth, resting your head against Tyson’s shoulder as you observed the conversation. He was in for one tonight, his cheeks already flushed bright red and his eyes glazed over. Great, you thought to yourself, already imagining the struggle you were going to have when you tried to get him home later. 

Your moment of peace was short-lived, however, your stomach dropping when Mikko sat down directly across from you, his legs brushing up against yours under the table. You picked your head up and rolled your eyes in disgust, bringing your drink up to your lips for a long sip. He left you alone for the time being, but it didn’t take him long for him to turn his attention back to you. 

“So, Y/N, where’s our favorite Alex?” he questioned, eyebrows raised as he looked at you, his sarcasm almost as thick as his accent. 

Your heart sank and you just stared back at him dumbfounded. Did he not know? There was no way none of the guys told him, right? Was he just playing a sick joke on you? You decided that it couldn’t be the latter, Mikko was a lot of things but he wasn’t cruel. 

The table was silent, everyone’s eyes on you waiting for your response. 

“Well, Mikko,” you hissed, emphasizing his name, “We broke up so I have no idea where Alex is.” 

His face fell as he heard your words, he had no idea. The guilt washed over him instantly, eyes trailing down to where your hands were anxiously twirling the straw of your drink. The awkwardness at the table was like nothing you had ever felt before, and you wished you could disappear at that moment. You were doing fine without Alex, more than fine actually, but you didn’t need to be reminded of your failed relationship in such a cold way, by Mikko of all people. 

The tension was finally broken by Tyson, his drunk rambling in full swing as he raised his glass. 

“We love you, Y/N,” he slurred, throwing his arm around your shoulders, “Plus, when’s the last time that asshole got you off?”

Your eyes went wide at his words, your head snapping to glare at him. You and Tyson were very close, and for better or worse you shared nearly everything with him. You trusted him with anything, but you couldn’t count on him keeping his mouth shut when alcohol was in the picture. 

Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, only getting worse when you caught Mikko’s eye. He had a soft expression on his face as he stared at you, but there was a glint behind the blue of his irises that you had never seen before. 

That was the last straw and you quickly left the booth, heading straight to the bathroom in hopes of gathering yourself. Ever since you and Mikko had started going at each other, you always kept up the facade that Alex was the perfect man. It was now very much so obvious that he wasn’t with Tyson exposing the fact that he barely managed to satisfy you for over a year. You didn’t know what was worse: your embarrassment or your anger. 

After almost ten minutes of wallowing in the filthy bathroom, you pulled yourself together enough that you were ready to go back out. Hopefully, by now they had moved on, Tyson’s slip up just a faint memory. You opened the door, only to run into a broad chest as soon as you stepped outside. 

Goddammit, Mikko. 

You didn’t need to look to know who it was, pulling back right away to put some distance between the two of you. 

“Mikko, please,” you begged, “Can you please just leave me alone tonight?”

You finally raised your gaze to meet his, the emotion making your voice shaky as you pleaded with him. 

“No,” he spoke, his voice deep as he inched closer to you. 

You shook your head, a small laugh slipping out of your lips in disbelief of his audacity. You backed away from him even further until your body bumped against the brick wall. You were stuck, his scent intoxicating you as he inched closer. 

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he continued, his fingertips dragging up the skin of your exposed forearm. 

Your breath hitched as he touched you, the close proximity clouding your senses and leaving a trail of goosebumps up your arm. 

“I want to take care of you, Y/N.”

Your eyes slipped shut as he spoke, his body nearly completely encroaching on yours now in the dingy corner of the bar. 

“Mikko,” you whispered, your head falling to look at your feet. There was no way he was saying what you thought he was, what you secretly hoped he was. 

He placed his thick pointer finger underneath your chin, urging you to look at him. 

“I’m sorry about Alex, I really am, but I don’t think you are. I was a complete idiot when I met you and I’m not doing that again.”

Your eyes were wide as you stared up at him, waiting for him to continue. Your heart was racing beneath your chest, your cheeks flushed as his eyes burned into your own. 

“Come home with me, Y/N. Let me take care of you like I should have been doing all along,” Mikko finished, his voice trailing off as he stood before you. 

One of his hands snaked around your waist, just lingering there, barely touching you as your head fell to rest against the hard brick. His other hand was pressed to the wall right next to your head, his bulging bicep clouding your peripheral vision. 

Two years. You had spent two years admiring Mikko from afar. And now here he was, offering himself up to you on a silver platter. There was no doubt in your mind that he would absolutely worship your body if you let him, and you wanted to let him. You were ashamed to admit how many times you had thought about him while getting yourself off over the years. He was just so big, so strong, and you couldn’t stop your mind from imagining what it would feel like to have him wrapped around you. 

“Take me home, Mikko,” you whispered, the slightest smile creeping onto your face as he smirked down at you. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, wanting to check that you were sure. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “But hurry up before I change my mind,” you smiled, your hand brushing against his chest as you teased him. 

He rolled his eyes, a deep laugh coming from his throat. But the tension was back right away, your heart stopping as his gaze flickered down to your lips and he leaned in. You closed your eyes in anticipation, so ready to finally have him touch you, but just as your mouths were about to connect he swerved, instead pecking your cheek. You pouted as he pulled back, a cheeky grin across his lips as he started to back away from you. 

“I think you can wait a little bit longer, prinsessa,” he spoke, urging you to follow him back to the table. 

-----

Less than fifteen minutes later you were in the back of an Uber, Mikko’s hand sitting dangerously high on your thigh as he stared out the window. After your encounter outside the bathroom, you told the guys that you weren’t doing well and you were going to head out. He took his chance to slip out with you, claiming that he wanted to make sure you got home okay considering his comment was why you were leaving. Or so they thought. 

The ride to his place was quick, and you were grateful because you didn’t think you could go much longer without him touching you. The tension in the car was palpable and you were convinced even the driver could feel it in the air. Mikko got out first, offering you his hand to help you slide out. You gulped as you felt his hand completely engulfed yours, your mind wandering to what else was that big. 

The painful anticipation didn’t last much longer, Mikko pinning you against the door as soon as you both were inside. His lips found yours immediately and you sighed into the kiss, two years of tension finally being released. You worked perfectly against each other, the first moan of the night coming from you as he bit your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it snap back so he could re-tangle your tongues. His hands were wrapped around your waist, fingertips sneaking under the hem of the black top you had on. He pulled away from your mouth, trailing wet, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. 

“Fuck, Mikko,” you whimpered, your hips rutting up as he found your sweet spot below your ear. He smirked against your skin and knowing exactly what you needed he moved one hand down to your ass so he could hike your leg up across his hip. His hardening length was now pressed against your core and you couldn’t control the moan you let out, desperately needing more from him. 

“Mikko, please,” you begged, your hands tugging the base of his blonde curls. 

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, lifting you up with ease and carrying you to his room, his lips still attached to your neck. 

He dropped you down on the bed, pulling back from you only to take his shirt off before he was hovering over you. You ran your hands across his pale skin, the ripples of his muscles in contrast with your soft fingertips. He stared down at you, his baby blue eyes burning into yours, and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes shut at his tender action, your hands wrapping across the expanse of his back. 

He continued his assault on your neck, this time soothing the many marks he made in the entryway. The tops of your breasts were now spilling over your blouse, his plump lips biting into the flesh. You pushed him away just enough so you could yank the shirt off, Mikko swearing under his breath as he saw the black lace bra you had on. His hands slipped around your back, unclasping it before attaching his mouth to your nipples. Your body arched up into his at the contact, Mikko smiling as he trailed down your stomach before pausing at the waistband of your jeans. 

“How do you wanna cum first, baby, hmm?” he cooed as you squirmed beneath him, “Tongue? Fingers? Both?”

“Anything, Mikko,” you pleaded, “Please just touch me.”

“Whatever you want, prinsessa.”

Mikko finally unzipped your jeans, sliding the denim off your legs painfully slowly. He groaned as he saw your matching panties, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth at the wet spot seeping through the lace. 

“You really need this, huh?” he smirked, his middle finger delicately tracing the outline of the material. 

“So badly, Mikko,” you whined, lifting your hips in search of more friction. 

Mikko didn’t waste any more time teasing you, instead hastily ripping the panties off and hooking your legs over his shoulders, attaching his mouth to your dripping core. You cried out at the contact, his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit before reaching your clit. He moaned into you at his first taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Your head was thrown back against the pillows, your hands tangled in his blonde hair as he flicked his tongue against you. He moved one of his arms to rest against your stomach, keeping you in place as he pulled moan after moan from you. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you cried out. Alex hadn’t gone down on you for at least the last six months of your relationship, but even when he had it didn’t feel anything like this. Mikko seemingly already knew your body inside and out and he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were. 

“So good, prinsessa,” he groaned, “So good for me.”

His dark pink pout wrapped around your clit, the pressure overwhelming your senses. He switched between flicking and sucking, your back arched off the mattress as you felt your climax approaching. 

“Fuck, I- I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Mikko didn’t stop, rather he went faster, your high crashing over you as your mouth hung open in a silent scream. Your hands pulled his hair so tight, your body tensing as his tongue coaxed you through your high, only stopping when you pushed him away, the sensitivity getting to be too much. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your swollen clit before pulling away, trailing kisses down the inside of your inner thighs while you came down. 

“Feel good, baby?” 

You laughed at his question, you had never felt better. 

“So good, Mikko.”

Your body felt numb, still not recovered from one of the best orgasms you’ve had in years. Your hand pushed Mikko’s hair out of his face, his eyes meeting yours as he smiled up at you. You played with the curls for a few minutes, the smell of sex thick in the air, before he got antsy again. 

“Ready for another?” he asked, a cheeky smirk on his face as you looked down at him.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and gave him a slow nod, having an idea what he had in mind. 

You were right, as soon as you gave him the all good Mikko’s middle finger was back on your core, spreading your cum around before slowly slipping inside. Your head fell back at the stretch, it only took one of his thick fingers to make you ache. He stared up at you as he moved it in and out, gaging your reaction before adding a second. 

“Yes, Mikko,” you whined, your breath hitching each time he brushed your g-spot. 

He picked up his pace, the filthy sounds of your wetness filling the air as he pumped in and out. The contrast between the roughness of his fingers and the smoothness of your walls was making your eyes roll back, your high already approaching. 

“You want another one, baby?” he hummed, his accent growing thicker. 

You couldn’t find the words to respond, just nodding as you looked down at him. He looked so pretty, his face hovering above you as his blue eyes stared up at you, smiling as you lost control of your body. His arm was flexing with each movement, hitting your g-spot perfectly over and over again. 

“Mikko- Mikko,” you screamed, your climax overtaking you as he added his thumb to the equation, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

Your legs started shaking, your heels digging into his back while Mikko fucked you through your high, words of encouragement falling from his lips as you cried out his name. 

“So pretty, prinsessa,” he cooed, “Such a good girl.”

He finally pulled back, slipping his fingers out of you and licking your cum off of them one by one. You were in a state of complete bliss, your body tingling from the two orgasms and his pants hadn’t even come off yet. He kissed up your body, smiling into you when he reached your lips. You sighed into him, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. It didn’t take long for you to get desperate for him again and you could feel him resting heavy against your leg.

You separated from him, whispering, “I need you, Mikko.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, sitting up so he could shake his pants and boxers off. 

You audibly whimpered as you saw him completely bare in front of you, he was large. Without even realizing you were doing it, you reached out for him begging him to come back to you. Mikko let out a chuckle at your eagerness, grabbing a condom from his nightstand before leaning over you again. 

“I got you, Y/N,” he murmured, throwing the foil to the side. 

 “How do you want me?” you purred, giving him your most innocent eyes as you gently stroked him. 

Mikko nearly gave out at your touch, mumbling a fuck before he responded. 

“Turn around,” he ordered, his hands spreading over your ass when you did what he said. 

A soft smile crept onto your lips, you had a feeling that’s what he would want. You arched your back, your ass resting against his lower stomach as he gripped your waist. A whimper escaped your lips as he teased your entrance with his tip before finally sinking in. Your mouth fell open as he stretched you out, he was without a doubt the biggest you had ever had. 

“Shit, so fucking tight, prinsessa,” he murmured. 

He made sure to go slow, pausing once he was all the way in to let you adjust. 

“Mikko, please,” you moaned out once you were ready. 

He took the hint right away, swiftly pulling out before slamming back into you. Your mind went blank as he moved, he was hitting so deep within you with every thrust. He slid one of his hands from its post on your waist to the back of your neck, holding you there for more leverage. 

“Fu- Fuck,” you cried, surely loud enough for his poor neighbors to hear. 

“Feel good, baby?” he questioned, continuing his relentless pace. 

He leaned down to rest his body against yours and you whined at the feeling of having him completely envelop you. Your head was pressed into the pillows when you felt his hot breath on your neck. 

“Were you jealous when you thought about me fucking that girl like this, hmm?”

His accent was so heavy at this point that his words were barely understandable, but you knew what exactly he said. You couldn't muster up a response, rather a deep groan came from your throat as you nodded. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I only fuck you like this, like that piece of shit should have been this whole time.”

Your body almost collapsed at his words, the contrast between the cute, funny Mikko everyone loved and the filthy one that was fucking you into next week clouding your senses. 

“I- I’m so close,” you whined 

Mikko snapped his hips even faster and snaking one hand down to your clit. 

“Come on, baby, cum for me.”

The pressure on your sensitive nub was too much, his small circles sending you over the edge right away as he continued to brush your g-spot. 

“Mikko, Mikko, Mikko,” you screamed, your mind completely blank as he fucked you through your climax, prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible. You had never had an orgasm so intense, stars filling your vision as the pure pleasure overtook your body. 

The way you cried and clenched around him had him giving in as well, his loud moans as he came the hottest sound you had ever heard. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned as he finally slowed his hips, leaning over you once again to press a trail of kisses across your spine while you tried to regain your breath. 

He stayed like that for a few minutes, moving your hair to the side to continue kissing around your neck before he finally slipped out. You winced at the sudden loss of contact. 

 “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” Mikko cooed as he went to throw out the condom and get a damp towel to clean you up with. 

You laid on your stomach as you waited for him, your body too weak to even think about moving. Before long you heard his footsteps coming towards you, a soft smile on his face as you turned your head to look at him. 

“Come here, honey,” he spoke, a quiet laugh leaving his lips as he saw you completely fucked out on the bed. 

Mikko grabbed your waist, gently flipping you over so you were now resting on your back. You winced again as he brushed the washcloth against your still so sensitive core, but he tried to relax you with a kiss to your forehead. You opened your eyes to watch him walk around the room, his arms flexing as he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers. Your eyes slipped shut once again, the physical and emotional exhaustion hitting you. 

“Here, prinsessa,” you heard from just above you, looking up to see Mikko sitting right next to you. You were surprised that he was still using pet names now that the activities of the night were over, but you were even more surprised to see a shirt in his hands. 

“Oh, I-,” you stumbled, “I don’t have to stay, Mikko,” you whispered, realizing that now you would have to figure out what your relationship was going to look like moving forward. 

“I want you to stay,” he rebutted, “I mean- if you want to.”

“I want to,” you reassured, sensing that he was feeling vulnerable after his confession. 

“Good,” Mikko smiled, moving his hand to push a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

You took the shirt from him, slipping the soft fabric over your head. It was huge on you and you didn’t miss how his eyes lingered on the Rantanen 96 that was written across the sleeve. Mikko lifted the sheets so you could slide beneath them, pulling you flush against his body as soon as he was under them as well. 

Mikko’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, his fingertips resting under the hem of the shirt on your bare skin. His legs tangled with yours while he tucked his head in the crook of your neck. You were completely enveloped by his large frame, your body relaxing as he gave you a gentle squeeze. 

After just a few minutes of comfortable silence, you heard his quiet voice tickle your ear. 

“Y/N?” he whispered. 

“Yeah?” you responded, your voice barely loud enough to hear. 

“I really mean what I said before. You deserve so much better. Someone who can treat you right. And not just with sex, but obviously that too,” he nervously laughed, his tired rambling continuing, “I don’t know if I’m totally out of line here, but I really want to be that for you.”

You couldn’t contain your emotions as Mikko spoke, the tears burning the back of your eyes as you took in his tender words. You had settled for mediocre for so long, and he was right, you deserved better. You turned in his grasp, your hand gripping his forearm as you looked up at him. 

“Oh no, don’t cry, prinsessa,” he cooed, his thumb catching the single tear that was rolling down your cheek. 

“I’m fine,” you chuckled, blinking until you could see clearly again. “I just- yes, Mikko. I really want that too.”

The grin that spread across his face was one of pure joy, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you even closer to him. Your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, smiling into his skin when he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I have to say, I’m impressed that you went so long pretending to hate me,” Mikko chirped, the playfulness of your relationship coming right back. 

You pulled back with an exaggeration gasp, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. His dark pink lips were spread open as he laughed, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. 

“Keep that up and I won’t be pretending anymore,” you challenged, nuzzling back into his bare chest. 

“No this is way more fun,” he giggled. 

You rolled your eyes at him, sliding your arm around his toned middle as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. 

“Good night, prinsessa.”

“Good night, Mikko.”

This was the last place you expected to find yourself tonight, but you knew it was exactly where you were supposed to be. 

[4stars-uswnt]

You Take My Heart Away [Kelley O’Hara x Reader]

requested by anon: Kelley O’Hara x reader where reader gets into a fist fight but she’s like I won’t throw the first punch bc I’ll finish it and like she gets teased by the team but Kelley is mad at reader for it bc R could’ve gotten hurt but it was still cool

requested by anon: Can we get another Kelley O’Hara x reader doesn’t have to be anything specific just maybe along the lines of them both being crazy and maybe oblivious

A/N: i decided to combine these two prompts! hope y’all enjoy it. also bonus points to anybody who gets the title reference (there’s a lil connection to a reference within the story)

warnings: homophobic and sexist language, violence, and swearing

Conversation was flowing and music was playing in the background of the bar, as the USWNT finished up their first round of drinks and appetizers. The team had pushed together a couple of tables, where you all were now sitting, laughing at each other’s jokes.

The air was light, victory and celebration filling the atmosphere. Megan and Ashlyn had been the ones to suggest a night out after your win against Japan, not only to celebrate the 2-0 victory but also to celebrate Lindsey’s birthday that was in the next couple of days.

You were currently sitting next to your best friend, Kelley O’Hara, bridging the gap between the veterans and the youngsters.

“Anybody want another drink?” Alex asks, pushing her chair back, as she moves to get up.

A chorus of yeses ring out, the team’s orders ringing out.

“I’ll help you with that, Al.” You stand up from your seat, giving the other woman a warm smile.

Once the two of you had left for the bar, the rest of the team began interrogating Kelley, who let her eyes follow you as you moved through the crowd.

“Kel,” Ash calls out over the noise of the music. “When are you gonna admit to (Y/N) that you’re hopelessly in love with her?”

“What?” Kelley sputters, flustered.

Megan rolls her eyes at the defender. “It’s so obvious that you’ve had a crush on her for the past like six years, and a blind person can see that she likes you too.”

“I- I’m not in love with (Y/N).” Kelley’s face flushes, as she rubs the back of her neck nervously. “She’s my best friend.”

“Kelley,” Christen softly chimes in,, hoping to talk some sense in her friend she’s known since college. “You guys obviously have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship, and you’ve been dancing around them for years. We just want you two to be happy.”

Many of the women nod and voice their agreement.

“But what if it ruins our friendship and I lose her forever?” The freckled defender bites her lip nervously.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Christen gives her a knowing look. “Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she’s not gonna cut you out of her life.”

“And Kel,” Tobin adds on. “You never know until you ask her. And who knows? The risk of putting your heart out there may be worth it. But you’re just gonna live in the dark haunted by the unknown and what ifs unless you tell her how you feel.”

“I hate that you’re philosophical insights are usually right,” Kelley huffs.

Meanwhile, as the team holds their intervention for your best friend, you and Alex were at the bar ordering another round of drinks.

As you were waiting for the bartender, you and Alex were engaged in your own conversation, when you hear a boisterous voice interrupt you.

“Hey! It’s Alex Morgan!” A large man approaches the two of you, holding a half-full cup of beer in his hand, and you have a feeling he’s downed a couple pints already.

You sense Alex tense up next to you, as she gives the stranger a tight smile. “Hello.”

“Oh, and who’s this?” He turns to you, a leering grin on his face, making your insides turn. You reach for Alex’s hand in search of comfort but also as a protective gesture.

“Is she your girlfriend?” The man looks back at the star forward. “I hear your entire team is full of d*kes, but I didn’t think you were one. You’re way too hot to be a d*ke.”

Alex’s grip on your hand tightens, as anger radiates off of her. “I’m actually happily married.” She raises her left hand to show off her ring.

“Woah.” The stranger lets out a low whistle, his eyes slowly widening before he squinting to get a better look, as his movements impaired by the alcohol. “That is quite the rock. How’d you afford that with your pay? I’ve heard all about your team’s fight for equal pay and all that. I personally think it’s a load of crap. You guys aren’t even that good at soccer, and it’s so boring. The only thing that makes your games interesting is your smoking hot bodies.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at this man’s blatant misogyny. “I’m surprised you know about our equal pay fight. I’d think it’d be too complicated for your thick skull,” you quip, throwing the insult right in his face.

“Ooooo feisty, are we?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “And where do you get off calling me dumb?”

“I’m just calling them as I see them,” you simply state, letting go of Alex’s hand, as you move to stand in front of her protectively. “Where do you get off disrespecting women and being a bigot?”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not worth it,” Alex whispers in your ear.

“I’d listen to your friend,” the man sneers and stands up straighter, slightly sobering up. “Because I’m not afraid to hit a girl, especially a mouthy one like you. Women like you deserve to be put in your place.”

“Go on then,” you challenge, probably a stupid decision on your part, but the adrenaline is rushing and you are at your wits end with this man in front of you. “I dare you.”

You thank all the gods in the universe that the stupid stranger was actually stupid enough to try and throw a punch with his blood-alcohol level because you can see his punch coming from a mile away.

Before his fist can make contact with your face, you grab his hand and twist his arm, leaning in closely to his face. “Is that all you got? My mom hits better than you.” You smirk.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” he growls, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” you call out.

“What the hell are you talk-”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, rather your fist cuts him off. The man in front of you had been testing your patience and had used up all your grace, which, in your opinion, warranted a punch in the face.

You can’t help but wince at the sharp pain shooting through your hand upon the contact, but the cracking sound of his nose eases some of your discomfort.

By now, the rest of the team had become worried by your prolonged absence and then had noticed the commotion this stranger was stirring. Hearing the raised voices coming from your direction, many of the veterans, including Kelley, Christen, Tobin, Ash, Ali, and Megan, made their way over to where Alex was currently holding you back from unleashing your anger on this drunk man.

“What is going on here?” Becky asks, surveying the situation in front of her.

“This asshole was insulting Al and then had the audacity to continue being a sexist pig,” you spit out, directing your words at the man, who was still holding his bloody nose, while Alex was doing her best to keep you under wraps.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Ashlyn states firmly.

As the goalie, along with Becky, Megan, and Ali, coax the stranger into leaving you alone, and hopefully leaving the club, Alex, Christen, Tobin, and Kelley try and calm you down.

“(Y/N/N),” Christen soothes, cupping your face. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” The curly-haired forward inhales and exhales, motioning for you to mimic her actions.

You take a deep breath, and upon exhaling, you feel the tension, along with the adrenaline, leave your body.

“Shit,” you sigh. “My hand.”

You lift your right hand, revealing your split knuckles on which bruises were starting to form.

“Come on, Sylvester.” Tobin claps your shoulder, letting out an amused chuckle. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, and on the way, you can tell us all about your heroics.”

You amusedly roll your eyes and lean into the other woman’s side.

As the team gathers their things, ready to call it a night after the turn of events, Megan approaches you, holding out a bag of ice.

“Here, (Y/N), the bartender gave me this for your hand.”

“Thanks, P.” You place the cool ice on your knuckles, hissing at the temperature shock.

On the way back to the hotel, many of your teammates were interrogating you about what had happened back at the bar. After telling the entire story, you received many hoots and hollers from the rest of the team.

“Damn (Y/N)!” Ash whistles. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Way to protect our honor,” Rose gushes, as many of the women nod along.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for defending me,” Alex says sincerely.

“Of course, Al. Anytime.” You give the forward a warm smile.

“Who knew (Y/N) could be such a badass?!” Emily exclaims with an impressed look on her face. “Kel, did you know that your best friend was a secret badass?”

While the rest of the girls had been teasing you about your heroic actions, your best friend had been oddly quiet.

“News to me.” Kelley answers shortly, her face hard and distant. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering if the defender was mad at you. You thought she would’ve been proud of you for standing up for the team and putting a sexist douchebag in his place.

Before going back to entertaining your teammates’s jokes and questions, you make a mental note to talk to her once you get back to the hotel, silently thanking Vlatko for rooming the two of you together this camp.

You would never in a million years admit it, but you were harboring a huge crush for your best friend, had been for the past six years, ever since you’d joined the national team. Not only did you not want to ruin your friendship and end up losing Kelley, but you knew she would never return your feelings.

Over the past several years that you’d been friends with the defender, you’d seen Kelley go in and out of relationships, and comparing yourself to her other girlfriend’s, you had a feeling you weren’t her type.

You also had reservations due to the fact that Kelley was your teammate, and you didn’t want to change the team dynamic, especially if the two of you didn’t work out.

Thoughts of Kelley clouded your mind all the way back to the hotel, only further exacerbated by her deafening silence.

Upon arriving to the hotel lobby, before you all disperse to your rooms, Alex gives you another hug and thanks you again, and Becky, ever the mother of the group, gives you a warning.

“Make sure to ice on and off. 20 minutes. You know the drill, (Y/L/N). Kelley, make sure she takes care of that hand.”

“Don’t worry about me, Becks. I got it,” you reassure the veteran defender, giving her a mock salute.

Following Kelley, you cautiously enter the hotel room. You nervously watch the other women move around the room, as she silently goes about her usual nighttime routine. Taking the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to you anytime soon, you go about your own routine and get ready for bed.

After about twenty minutes later, after both of you had showered, you were finishing wrapping your hand and were about to get into bed, when you noticed Kelley discretely staring at your bandaged hand.

Unable to tolerate the silence anymore, you break the tension. “Okay, what is up with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kel,” you sigh, plopping down on the side of her bed. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder ever since what happened at the bar. Are you mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad,” Kelley hums slightly passive aggressively, still not looking up from her book.

You roll your eyes, frustrated by your best friend’s childish behavior. “Kelley, I know when you’re lying, and I know that you’re mad at me right now, so would you please just look at me?!”

Sensing the exasperation and frustration in your voice, Kelley closes and sets down her book. “Fine, you’re right. I am mad at you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, hearing her confirm your suspicions, but instead, the pressure in your chest increases.

“Why? What did I do?” You practically beg, scooting up the bed, so you’re closer to the other woman.

“As if you don’t know,” she scoffs.

Confused, you tilt your head. “I clearly don’t. Kel, please talk to me, tell me what I did.”

“You literally punched a dude in the face!”

“Yeah, but he deserved it, Kel! You heard the things he was saying,” you defend. “I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about our team like that. I thought you’d be proud of me for standing up to a sexist asshole like him.”

“I am proud, sort of. I mean that was completely badass and totally warranted, not that I necessarily expected that from you, and I’m glad you put him in his place,” Kelley babbles. “But that’s not the point, (Y/N/N). You were reckless tonight. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Your face softens at her outburst. Taking a deep breath, Kelley confesses, “I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you, and I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, especially by some drunk idiot who doesn’t know shit about football or respecting women.”

Your eyes widen and your heart practically stop, when you process the words that have come out of your best friend’s mouth.

“(Y/N), please say something,” Kelley begs.

“You’re in love with me?” You test the words on your mouth.

“Yeah,” she sighs contently, giving you a soft smile. “Have been for the past eight years.”

“Gosh, we really are idiots.” You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, Kel,” you rasped, your voice laced with pure emotion. “I’ve loved you since my first camp.”

“Wow,” Kelley scoffs, an amused grin playing on her face. “Are we really that oblivious?”

“Apparently so.” You shrug. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah, we are.” The freckled woman softens. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, leaning in to meat the other woman’s lips. The kiss is nothing like you’d dreamed of; it’s better. It’s soft and tender, full of love and passion. You melt into each other, as your lips move together in harmony.

Not wanting things to get too heated, especially not before you’ve talked about what this meant for the future of your relationship, you pull away, resting your forehead against hers.

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling like a fool.

“Hey,” Kelley murmurs softly, returning your smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes your hand, kissing your wrapped knuckles. “But please don’t be getting into any more bar fights.”

“Hey! I would never start a fight, however I have no problem finishing them.” You smirk, boasting slightly triumphantly.

Kelley rolls her eyes playfully, but then looks into your eyes. “I mean it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. So no more fights alright?”

“I promise, Kel.” You give her a chaste kiss.

“Good.”

That night, you stay in Kelley’s bed, cuddling into her side. As you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, you notice the woman next to you is already fast asleep.

You sigh contently, and you can’t help but feel extremely lucky that even after all these years, and everything that’s happened, life still led you to this woman and a love worth fighting for.

[letters-from-alex]

June 13, 2021

To the boy with green eyes,

It’s currently 12:59am and I can’t seem to get you out of my head. I’ve got a song on repeat: “You” by Regard. You made fun of me one day after picking you up from the hotel-- “You play this song a lot,” you said and laughed. “Well, I’m sorry it’s my current obsession right now!” I rebutted as I tried looking for a different song to play. But did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, I am trying to speak to you through my favorite songs? And how relevant they may be to the current situation? If you are reading these letters, then perhaps you should pay a little more attention next time.

I wish I could go into detail about how amazing my night was with you yesterday and what it meant to me that you stuck around. You literally had no obligation to stay, much less had any reason to, but nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed your presence and I was thrilled and surprised to see you open up to some of my friends to whom you which barely greeted yourself to. “I don’t like people,” echoed through my head a lot-- worried me even, that you wouldn’t let yourself get loose and open up to a handful of strangers, but I hoped, just hoped that you’d open up for me because these were people that I care very much about, just like you. Slowly, but surely, you did. I caught you laughing and smiling way too much and that hugged my heart. 

All night you followed me like a puppy, and please take that as a compliment as I really enjoyed it. And the playful sarcastic banter that we do way too often that comes off as partly comedic, yet slightly and secretly flirtatious (at least for me it is). And the way you’d look at me with that side-eye stare, your signature move. And that smile you make when I try to compete with you. And even that moment when our friend asked “Who’s the DJ?!” Your face was priceless. A big “oops” painted across your face as you handed me the phone and picked up my arm, “It’s Alex. It’s not me!” But she saw through that guilt in your eyes and the lie in your voice. You can’t fool too many people and according to you, you are an honest person, but to what extent will you go to protect yourself? To make sure that you protect your heart from your own feelings?

You’re always reminding me of something: “Don’t let other people control your emotions.” I’ve been questioning myself ever since you said it to me for the very first time. We all have our moments, of course, when we can’t control our emotions after getting offended, for example. Just like you did when my ignorant friend said something out of line. I had never seen you so upset before, but I liked you anyway because you had valid points, valid reasons, and a passion of respect that made me fall in love with your mind than I did before.

In that moment, when you just couldn’t cool down that boiling anger deep inside you, I asked, “What is it that you’re always telling me not to do?” There was a pause. You smiled. I actually made you smile in a tough moment. You played stupid, but you knew exactly what I was talking about. I repeated myself. You laughed and said, “You say it.” 

I looked deep into your eyes and said, “Don’t let other people control your emotions.”

I could tell you breathed in a breath of fresh air and in that moment, I swear I just wanted to hug you. I don’t know why I didn’t. I should’ve, but I didn’t. Why didn’t I? You let me touch your shoulders through the night. I accidentally touched your hand. I punched your bicep. And caressed your back. You even tussled my hair as you called me short, yet feisty in Spanish. So, why couldn’t I wrap my arms around your body? I have no clue where to draw that line without getting too close to you or perhaps even pushing you away.

I felt the same way when we were lying in my bed together-- a moment that I thought would never come to fruition. I couldn’t believe you were actually sleeping... on. my. bed. And to make it worse, you were sleeping on the side I usually sleep on-- the side closest to the window.

I had accidentally woken you up after kicking a water bottle on the floor. “I’m sorry.” I whispered. “No. You’re good,” you said as you got up to use the restroom. Moments later, you walked back into my room and closed the door behind you. I don’t know why, but I had this thought in the back of my head that you were going to tell me something like, “I can sleep in the other room,” or “Could you take me back to the hotel?” But no... nothing. You just laid there, less than two feet away from me, with my dogs in between us, separated. I felt so close, yet so far from you.

You were on your phone for a moment or two. My heart began to race, much faster after you turned off your phone and got comfortable. I listened to you breathe, tried getting mine in sync with yours, but I was too nervous. I had so much on my mind. I had so much to say to you, but didn’t know how to say it or thought maybe I shouldn’t even speak my mind. I didn’t realize how much more painful it is to bottle up the heartfelt thoughts over the heartless ones until last night. 

I struggled to sleep for about half an hour. I felt you move around, I heard you scratch your face, and even turn your head around. Were you struggling to fall asleep too and if so, what was on your mind? What was keeping you awake? I wish the answer was me, but I know that won’t ever be true. Unlike me, it was you. It was you. My heart was racing because of you. My mind wouldn’t quiet because of you. I couldn’t sleep because of you. I laid there, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily, and sighing, and thinking... just thinking.

“I have so many things to say, but I will only say them if you promise me you’ll pretend that I never did.”

You’d nod.

“And I just want you to listen. I don’t expect you to say anything because I know where we stand and I know you wont reciprocate anything I tell you or anything I feel for you.”

You’d nod.

“Okay. Now that we’ve got that cleared up... I just wanted to tell you how much I adore you. Your eyes. Your smile. Your laugh. Your voice. Your accent. Your hair. Your soft skin. Your callused hands. Your tattoos. Your defined body. Just everything about you drives me so crazy and I hate that you make me feel this kind of way only because you don’t feel the same way. Don’t get me wrong, you bring me so much joy and contentedness. You don’t know much about him, but you make me forget that this other boy with green eyes exists. You make me ever forget that my heart has ever been broken into a million pieces. I enjoy my time with you. I love being in your presence. I love breathing the same air in the same room as you. I love making you laugh and I love our playful banter because I bet you can’t be like that with just anyone, which also makes me wonder-- why me? But I guess that’s something I shouldn’t question and be something I should be grateful for and just go with the flow. But you see, I’d be lying if I said I just wanted this to stay like this-- to be friends, to be platonic. I don’t want to be platonic with you. Right now, I just want to hold you and intertwine my body with yours. I want to keep you warm throughout the night and caress your beautiful face and tussle your soft hair. I want to breathe on your neck and I want to whisper all the things I’ve never been brave enough to say.”

But I was mute the rest of the night. If only my mind was just as silent. It rushed so fast and my heart dropped each time I felt you move or showed any sign of being awake still, that I had to grab my blanket and walk to the guest room. I just couldn’t bear the pain of keeping all these unsaid feelings in while you were lying next to me-- a moment that I only dreamed about and never thought would actually happen. And I can’t help but beat myself up at the fact that something like this more than likely won’t happen again and should’ve taken advantage of the situation while I could, but I didn’t. And the most pathetic part of it all is that as I stepped out of the room, I actually hoped that you’d tell me to stay.

You’re always telling me not to let other people control my emotions, but I think it’s me who I’m scared of the most. People always say that happiness is a choice, but if that one emotion is a choice, why can’t the rest of them be? I am my worst enemy. I do these things to myself. I control my own emotions, but I’m not strong enough to let myself be happy in the moment because I know, eventually, this happiness will soon end. I get so carried away with my own feelings and everything that I want-- especially when it comes to fruition, makes me want to believe in this hopeless romantic fairytale fantasy that maybe things like this, nights like this, are meant to happen because it’s just the beginning of a beautiful love story. But then I start to come back to reality. I come back to the sudden realization that I can never have you.

Sincerely, Alex