#I’ve been thinking about them singing it’s my party dancing in a kitchen for WEEKS

[dumbnotstupidfuck]

love the idea of husk having lived into an older age so his music taste is pretty firm in what he listened to when he was alive (though he says he hates disco that mf loves it), but angel’s taste has always been more adaptable and an important aspect to his fame is being at least semi up to date on music

this leads to angel playing hyperpop and club music CONSTANTLY to dance around doing mundane things and husk has to put up with the headache-inducing instrumentals if he wants to watch angel absentmindedly strutting and dancing around the hotel, which he absolutely does.

until one day, angel is at the bar, helping husk clean up when he starts humming the chorus to ‘it’s my party’ by lesley gore.

cue quiet mutual humming turning into quiet singing turning into belting I’ll cry if I want to! You would cry too if it happened to youuuuuu so loudly it wakes up the entire fuckin hotel, but husk and angel are too busy laughing, twirling and dipping each other to notice the death stare from everybody else

[theanothersherlockian]

You Are In Love

Frankie Morales x Reader

I’ve been on school break, i was bored so i made this little story. It’s based on “You are in love (TV’s)” by Taylor Swift.

It was fun writing this. English is not my first language so it might not be well written.

It’s fluffy. Mutual pinning. Reader speaks Spanish at the very end but is just one sentence.

Happy Frankie Friday! ❤️

1,600-ish words

Starting a new life away from where you grew up was difficult, eating alone in your job as a waitress at first, learning the shortcuts on the road or where the potholes were, not knowing anyone to hangout on weekends or days off. But you wanted to be far away from anything that could hold onto being someone you weren't, your household not being a home since you were a teeneger and feeling that you belonged somewhere else.

It was like that at first, until one day you met Benny Miller, an energetic young man who used to visit the restaurant at the same hour every week. He would always come at five pm, order a double cheeseburger with a milkshake, and then leave.

After a month of him entering the restaurant at the same time you started chatting with him, started to know him better, knew he was an MMA fighter, had a big brother named Will (who sometimes came with Benny) and that he had two best friends that had known when he was serving in the military.

Then he started inviting you to his fights and you met his friends there. A sassy but responsible man named Santiago Garcia and a shy with brown eyes named Francisco Morales, you knew by the way they were with each other that they meant the world to Benny and to the rest of them as well, they were a family.

With that they treated you as well like you were family, you started going with them everywhere, you went to the beach that summer and spent the whole time joking around with the guys. Benny and Will helping you move furniture. You felt comfortable with the guys around, but liking the company of someone specially.

You don't know how it started. The way his eyes shine when you tell a joke; or the way you both glances at each other at a party from the other side of the room talking with just the eyes; maybe it was when you found his bald patches where it's supposed to be a beard and joked about it to him; having inside jokes and the guys teasing you about it. You don’t know how it started, you just knew you felt safer when Francisco Morales was around.

~o~

He is driving you to your house after a night out. Hopping on his old truck like always. You were resting against Frankie’s shoulder. Watching him drive was one of the best views you ever encountered, watching his eyes dance around every car, his face when he's focused on a job, the way he licks his bottom lip without noticing but at the same time he acknowledge the things you say to him or still hums to the song at the radio drumming with his fingers the steering wheel.

You were talking to him, telling him how your week was, about that flickering light in your kitchen, rambling because no matter how mundane your thoughts were, he always wanted to hear them.

Frankie stopped at a red light and saw you looking at the window now. Cheeks still resting on his jacket. Feeling how both of your body radiates this soft warm energy, nobody knows how to explain it, just want to be together. The way the red light washes your body, lingering on your chest where his dog tags laid, in a secretly “you belong with me” way. He wanted to make this scene longer, to be with you like this.

To relive this intimate moment with you all night when he can’t sleep because of his nightmares. But he won’t tell you that. He won’t tell you that when he has nightmares, the nights when his PTSD gets worse, he calms himself remembering the times you spent time together. Remembering the way your nose crunches when something disgust you. When you think no one's paying attention and you start singing a song you get stuck in your head.

When Frankie’s all by himself those nights he remembers you, you are his light.

“Look up,” he says and your shoulders brush.

You both look at each other, his soft brown eyes stared as though hypnotized by something, someone. Everything felt slower, you could feel the way your heart pulse through your ears. Your breath becomes shallower by the time passes. Gently, Frankie moves a strand of hair from your face and opens his mouth, but before he could say anything a car behind him honks. The traffic light was green.

You both glance awkwardly, not sure how to react. He coughs trying to diffuse the tension.

“We should go,” he says.

~o~

The strand of light that passed through the curtains woke you. You laid there accommodating, trying to understand where you were. It wasn't your room, you knew that by the way the furniture in the room was different, but you heard an unmistakable voice singing in the kitchen.

Frankie had carried you to his bedroom after you’ve fallen asleep on the couch.

Grabbing a shirt from his closet, you came out of his bedroom. The music becomes louder every step you take. He was giving you his back, the white shirt Frankie was wearing stretching around his broad shoulder whenever he grabbed something, those big arms had you drizzling for just how big they were. He looked good like that.

“Good morning sleepy” he said cheerfully when he noticed you, but he stopped when he fully saw you. Standing there in his house wearing his shirt as pajamas, you were breathtaking. Your heart suddenly missed a beat the moment his eyes landed on you. A soft shy smile appears on your face.

And you knew right there, this was all what you dream of. A place where you can be yourself. You created your own safe space without knowing. And be grateful for them everytime. Benny, Will, Santi and Frankie rescue you when you thought no one could ever love you the way you are. You let go of your insecurities the moment you met them in that stinky MMA ring.

The air felt warm and you couldn't pinpoint if it was always like that or just you, until Frankie smelled it.

“shit the toast!” he hissed.

After breakfast and clearing the table, and some bumps into each other while doing so, you went to Frankie’s bedroom to change. But he grabbed your hand delicately, looking at you. His eyes conveyed vulnerability that you saw only when you were with him. You step closer to him. Skin tingling where his fingers went onto your skin, slowly going to your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Please” you sighed.

Franke had you feeling like you were the only one on his mind, of course he was your best friend, but you also had wanted more. So when his soft lips connected yours it felt like a weight got off your chest, he's been feeling the same for not knowing how long. You take your time, there's no place where you would rather be, slowly melting into one. His left arm hugging your back gets you closer to him, caging you against him, your own fortress against the world. His mustache tickles your upper lip. His kiss was warm, comfortable, and dizzy, just like his pouty lips look like. Your hand sliding its way into his hair, grasping it.

You both pull out, looking at each other. Grasping for hair. His head resting into yours. Both cheeks pinks with fluster. Your hand still on his hair, those brown curls getting wilder. Giggling, you still couldn't let go of each other, afraid that if you let him go it will all disappear into a weird dream.

“You have a crush on me, Morales?” you jokingly say, kissing him again softly.

~o~

“Took you long enough,” Santi said, hugging you.

“We are just dumb” you look at Frankie and smile at him.

“Yeah you are” Benny said giggling, he was the happiest one. You could wonder if he was a part of this relationship too.

After the kiss it felt easier. All this time wasting time wondering if the other felt the same, when it was obvious. He had told you the many times he almost confessed to you, he couldn't stop giggling at the thought of it. You’ve never felt this peace before, both were walking on a cloud when were around each other.

It was the first time you were with them as a couple, you didn't want to tell them right away. Sneaking into each other's houses while pretending to be just friends.

Touches lingering more than a friend would on each other's bodies when playing soccer at the beach. Escaping when Santi invited you to his house, Frankie pulled you just for himself, the others without a clue in the world about what was happening. Just couldn't get enough of each other, wanting to be with the other, to be touching, to feel him on your body, the roughness of his calloused hands on your back, your neck desiring the scratch of his beard whenever you see him.

But tonight you decided that you were just happy with each other. It felt natural like this, Frankie’s arm around your shoulder, taking your hand and playing with it, kissing him in front of the others. He wasn't afraid of showing you off. He was so proud of you.

“I just have to say that I already knew it,” Will says, sipping from his beer.

“What?” you laugh “How?”

“There’s a certain light in your eyes when you are together filled with magic, and it only radiates love” will say softly looking at you “that and, he has a photo of you in the garage and saw your new nickname on his phone”

“oh fuck off” Frankie say blushing.

“Te amo, Francisco” you say, kissing him softly.

“Y yo te amo a ti, mi amor”

'Cause you can hear in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You are in love, true love.

[fortuositywritings]

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all. 

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow. 

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong. 

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous. 

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says. 

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff. 

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him. 

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside. 

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder. 

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks. 

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing. 

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves. 

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh. 

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends. 

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks. 

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end. 

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round. 

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone. 

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night. 

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand. 

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke. 

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face. 

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch. 

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.” 

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you. 

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow. 

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. 

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach. 

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands. 

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything. 

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos. 

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after. 

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 4

Character(s) included: Kenma & Suna

Requested by: My sibling who doesn't read my work lmao.

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of alcohol [Kenma]

Song of the day: Tired by Beabadoobee

A/N: First off please check out my announcements post. It has a lot of important Information in it and I would really enjoy it if you checked it out! Next this is requested by my wonderful sibling. Hopefully you all enjoy- also how's my new stuff..? Tell me if its ugly lmao.. I recommend having the palette/theme set to Goth Rave for the best look- I might make a few things a darker purple though! This might be the last part to this series unless anyone wants a few more!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Kenma

Things were rough after Kenma landed his dream gig. Being a full time gamer had always been and always would be his dream. But now it was reality. He finally made it in the big league. He was finally there. It was perfect.. but soon enough flaws started to appear outside of his career. Which soon turned into flaws in the relationship. Kenma was known to be smart, calculated, and quiet. Even though all those seemed nice at times it was hard. Like any relationship things didn’t always work out. One of those being the communication. To be frank, there was no communication. At all.

You liked to drink and party. Hang out with friends and just live life to the fullest.. but even if you did like that, you loved just to cuddle. Which luckily you and Kenma shared. As time grew and his career finally branched into what he hoped it would, your time of physical affection shortened. Which sucked.. you loved physical affection. It was your love language. You couldn’t help it, whenever you saw him you just wanted to lay and be with him. But now that you couldn’t, you slowly branched out to others for what you couldn’t have. When that worked.. you just stuck with it. Getting drunk with friends and cuddling until one of your more sober friends called up Kenma and told him to pick you up. Kenma hated it. He really hated it. He hated to see you holding on to someone else, it didn’t matter what they looked like, what they identified as, or who they were. All that mattered was they weren’t him so they had no right to be that close.

Kenma likes to play games and stay home. He liked to be somewhere quiet and such. So every week when he had to go to pick you up, he sorta wondered if he didn’t pick you up what would happen..? Of course he wouldn’t do so though.. you had so many people eyeing you.. you were popular with everyone and extremely kind. So if he did leave you.. it would be as easy as it was for you to get a new cuddle partner as to get a new place to sleep. He trusted you.. well he kind of did. He wasn't good at expressing how he felt especially when it came to you or something you liked.

You got black out drunk the night before and when you walked into the kitchen you felt the heavy atmosphere. “Good morning baby..” you muttered rubbing your eyes. Your lips felt dry and your throat was raspy. Maybe you were screaming or something.. whatever it was fun.

“I don’t want you calling me that at the moment.” He stated. Which caught you off guard. Looking up your eyes were met with his. Clear confusion all over your face. “What? Did you really get that drunk to not remember being all over your friend last night..?  Calling them baby and shit. If that’s a name you just throw around please just refer to me as my name..” He muttered.

“Oh you know I didn’t mean too baby.. I love you and you know that.. you're the only one who makes me happy… but right now I'm having a headache so do you mind passing me the coffee..?” you muttered brushing everything to the side which only made him more frustrated with you. you did this every time. You pushed everything that wasn’t in your interest to the side.

“Look at you doing it again. You always do this,” he looked at you annoyed and frustrated. “Pushing everything to the side. Do you not understand how annoying it is to get a call at three in the morning that you're drunk. Not only that but that you're all over someone else. Do you not understand or do you just not care because seriously it's getting hard to think that you are just that, your heads just that blank.”

You were caught off guard. Of course you were, he never responded roughly like that. He never acted so upset with you. To be honest you never really thought about how he had to pick you up and stuff. You never thought about what happened the night before to be frank. You were a party drunk. You liked to sing and dance and cuddle and such. All the things Kenma couldn’t or wouldn’t do with you, you did with anyone else when you were drunk. It wasn’t that you wanted to blame being drunk on acting that way, so you just waited till you did get drunk. It was more, when you were sober you tried to get Kenma to do those things with you. Which most of the time ended badly because you would just be shut down again. “You know I don’t mean to do those things.”

“You don’t mean too?” He looked upset, really upset. You saw him upset often, frustrated with how the game was turning out and such, but this was different. He looked more hurt than anything. “You do it every week. Every single week you go out and drink you go out and party and sing and dance and have the fucking time of your life okay? Then when your all tired and cuddled up with a friend. I get a call to pick you up. When I get there you're either on their lap with your arms around them, on their side and holding them tight, or in between their legs as they cuddle you from the back. Not only that but when I try and help you up you more then half the time push me away, and then say you wanna go home with your ‘baby’! I’m getting sick and tired of it. You wake up the next morning and act as if the whole night you were just thinking of me and how you just wanna cuddle and all this shit. I am so fucking sick of you this. I’m so sick of you drinking. I am so fucking sick of you.” He was shouting. He was pissed and of course he was. But this time he just blew up. He didn’t even wait for a response to anything. “I’m going to go stream don’t fucking bug me.” He walked away walking into his streaming room. Once they slam the door leaving you in utter shock.

It took you a moment to take in everything. You messed up. It was your fault. He was hurt. Your lover was in pain because of your stupid actions. You grabbed your stuff, shoving it into your pocket and walked out. It was hard to think of anything but Kenma right now. Slowly you walked to the park. The leaves fell from the trees, when you looked around you saw couples wearing matching scarves and such. The smell of chai and pumpkin in every corner. Meeting your gaze you saw Kenma’s favorite bakery. Slowly you walked over opening the door and you immediately noticed this pie section. You made your way over biting your lip and you looked up at the sudden voice.

“Y/n.. is that you?” As you eye’s met the other you immediately recognized Bokuto.

“Oh hey.. nice to see you again.” You smiled weakly. Unfortunately your eyes were wet and glossy as soon as you walked into the bakery, and you didn’t know if you could handle pushing down the tears anymore.

“Where’s Kenma..? Are you okay..?” He asked softly, gently rubbing your back as he seemed to be alone at the moment. You didn’t wanna cause any more issues but you couldn’t help it, immediately you started to cry.

“I messed up, I really messed up..” you mutter as he gently leads you to a seat.

“Hey everything will be okay.. just tell me what’s wrong. I know you can work through it okay..? We can do it!” he smiled. He had always been a big brother to you. He knew just what to say to calm you down.

“I got drunk again and this time I just was a mess I guess.. and Kenma seems to be getting tired of me and me doing this. Doing all this dumb shit and messing around. But I just.. I don’t know. I wanna cuddle and hug and go on dates. But Kenma just got his dream job and I don’t wanna fuck it up. I know its so fucking selfish. I shouldn’t do this to him. I know I shouldn’t. I deserve to get yelled at and stuff I mean seriously.. he has to pick me up at three every fucking week because I’m to stupid to tell him how I feel and how I just want to be held and stuff. I just wonder sometimes.. Maybe I am not as perfect as I thought I was for Kenma. He needs someone who can be there for him all the time and I know I just know that I will keep fucking up..” You were shaking. “I mean seriously.. I am not even able to tell him I love him much less tell him about how his job is bugging me. It’s the one thing he wanted to do. The one fucking thing he really wanted to do. I just wasn’t able to support him.. I couldn’t.. I just keep hurting him..” tears were rolling down your face.

“Y/n.. hey it's okay, but he will never know anything if you keep holding it to yourself. Kenma has always been like that. He gets bugged by things but won’t say anything until he is at his limit. He never understood the importance of communication.. and he never ever takes the first steps okay? I understand that you're frustrated but you knew when you got into a relationship with him what type of person he is. You knew he was hard to understand. You told me you did. But I don’t think that you would give up this easily. You and him are the same, there will never be an understanding between you too if you guys don’t talk it out. Okay..? I suggest you get some pie and walk back to talk it out with him. I mean to be honest his stream today seems to be a mess. So it must really be bugging him and it would be better to figure it out sooner don’t you think..?” He smiled softly as you nodded. “Good. I have to go but look if you ever need to talk just message me okay? I’ve got your back!” He smiled, getting up and walking out.

You got up and bought two slices of apple pie and started to walk back. It was going to be tough to do this but you needed to. You knew you needed too.

Kenma couldn’t stay concentrated so the stream only lasted ten minutes before he turned it off and went back out to the living room. Which is when he found out you had left. Sadly his first thought was that you had gone drinking so he called up one of your friends to ask. When he found out you hadn’t he was even more worried. He looked around for a moment before he sat on the couch and held a pillow waiting. Hoping you would come back home. He wanted to fix this. He went too far. He knew he did. He knew he did of course he did. He knew he blew up, he always did and he tried not to but it was so fucking hard.

When you came into the room you immediately saw him lying on the couch cuddled up and crying. “What have I done..” You whispered softly as you made it next to you gently placed the pie down and looked at him. “I am sorry..” he looked up to you a bit and immediately his face changed.

“Oh thank god you're okay..” he whispered softly, “I didn’t me-”

You cut him off, “I messed up. I knew I did and I just want you to listen okay? I love you and I know I rarely say it. For a matter of a fact I can count the amount of times I’ve said it with one hand. I know I need to say it more okay? I know I shouldn’t drink but it is just really hard sometimes.. I just wanna go on dates and hold you and shit and I know it sounds so fucking stupid but sometimes I just get worried that if I do you will get sick of me faster okay..? So I just thought it would be easier to do it with my friends and stuff and get drunk and try to not bug you. You just got your dream job and I just don’t wanna fuck anything up more but I clearly have. I know I’m stupid and inconsiderate and I will think about it more.. just please don’t leave. Please. I will be better I swear.” You tried not to cry but you couldn’t help yourself.

Slowly he pulled you to him and held you tight. “I wasn’t planning to leave you anytime soon.. It is my fault I always don’t pay attention and It ends up hurting you and I know I should try and think about your feelings more. But I get scared to ask about it because I think if I do then you will think something is wrong but clearly that doesn’t work. So I will try to open up more okay.. I love you so much babe.. I love you.” He whispered softly, kissing your forehead.

“I love so so much too.. I love you..” You whispered. It would take time but soon everything would be perfect.. everything would be okay again.

Suna

It was hard to believe that Suna was still playing volleyball. It wasn’t a problem to you at all, to be frank you were glad that he decided to do something he loved. You were glad he wasn’t stuck at a desk all day. It just sucked when he came home all tired and unable to hang out. But maybe it would be the same either way. It just bugged you when he didn’t come home till like twelve and blamed it on practice. You didn’t wanna think that he was lying to you but you never really knew much about volleyball. It could be easily right but it just ticked you off that he came home so late. Claiming that he already had dinner and stuff. But there wasn’t anything you could really do about it. This was his passion. He loved to play volleyball and all you could do was give him your undying love and support.You worked hard, enjoying your job. Though it also got frustrating when your schedules conflicted so you couldn’t hang out but that was just life. There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and that was okay.

Suna got home late again. It was the middle of the night when you heard the shower start. He didn’t even say hello. He knew you were up. He had to know. You always were up when he came in. Mainly because you wanted to make sure he was okay when he got back. You wanted to make sure he got back. You were worried easily but it was going to be okay. Of course it was. You just had to tell yourself everyday and it would be true.. right?

When Suna walked into the room he slowly slipped next to you. “Sorry about the wait angel.. I promise soon I will have time off okay and we can hang out.” He muttered softly as his warm, soft arms wrapped around you. The smell of cherry blossoms radiated off of him. He used your hair wash sometimes, he claimed it made him feel like you were with him all the time and that made him happy. His wet hair touched your back as he held you close.

It was hard to be mad at him when he got like this. He was so soft when he was tired. He always made the same promise. At the beginning you believed him, you waited for it to happen but at this point you just tried to forget that he even said it because it just hurt you more. Of course it did. You were holding on to this stupid hope that he will get more time to hang out. That hope that soon everything would be okay. “It’s okay baby.. get some rest okay..?” You muttered softly. You turned your head slightly, kissing his head as you faced the front again. Closing your eyes you hoped everything would be okay once more.

The morning came quickly. The sun shone through the blinds, then the feeling of coldness hit as you turned over to the empty bed. Heh. What were you thinking? Did you really think that he was going to wait for you..? God sooner or later you really had to realize this relationship was more one sided then anything. That this thing was going to be a forever relationship. But god fuck, this was just as real as a fake relationship. It was only one when it was a relationship when it was convenient. It sucked but none of his teammates even knew about you and him being in a relationship. It sucked to feel like you were being forced to be hidden. It almost felt like he was embarrassed of you. It had gone on long enough. You were so fucking done. This was too hard to hold on.

After packing a bit you got up and grabbed your stuff. Getting up you headed out taking your car to one of your only friend’s houses. It was hard to have a conversation with him let alone try and explain how you felt. So you decided to take a night off from seeing him, and try and clear your head. You didn’t wanna break up, fuck that was the last thing you wanted to do. You decided not to leave a note.. secretly kind of hoping it would make him a bit worried or something. So you knew he actually noticed.. or actually liked you. Suna always had a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ additude and that was one of the big reasons you were drawn to him. He was always so free, he didn’t care what people had to say about him.. Something you wished you could have but it really didn’t matter because he had you back, back then.

After a few hours of hanging out your friend took your phone away from you, being that you had been waiting for a call from Suna. They powered it off and placed it on a shelf gently slipping next to you. They smiled. You and them were alway close. They had been with you for every break up and to be honest you even tried dating, though it didn’t work out it was a great experience and you would still have done it to this day. When night struck instead of waiting for Suna you actually were kind of relieved the fear of him not coming home kind of slipped off your shoulders as you laid down next to your friend. Closing your eyes you hoped for everything to get better. You wished that he would be able to get some free time and such.

On the other hand when Suna came home he did what he always did, take a shower and head to bed. But this time you weren’t there, you weren't waiting for him. He looked around almost instantly running to check if your shoes were there, which they weren’t. Now a bit shaken up he took a deep breath and walked over to check if anything else was missing. Once he did it kind of hit him harder than expected. Running to grab his phone he began to call you. It was too late out and it was pitch black, fear had settled in as he realized what could have happened. All the things that could have happened, might have happened. He immediately put on his shoes, his hair still wet. God even knows he can hear you to dry his hair before he leaves, in hope he won't get sick. He unlocked his car calling you for the third time, unsurprisingly he heard the same voice mail.

“Hey this is y/n! It seems you are trying to reach me. At the moment I might be busy or have missed your call! Please try and call again or leave a message. I promise to get back to you as soon as I can!”

It had been a wet month as the rain hit the floor but Suna didn’t seem to mind. So maybe he was being over dramatic but you never have been away from him during the night from the day you guys started dating. So for you not even to mention that you weren’t going to be home was fucking with him. He did the next best thing, calling your best friend. Lucky for him they picked up. “Hey is y/n there.. they're not picking up and I really wanna make sure they're okay..” he muttered his breath was loud. Almost as if he was having trouble breathing and such.

“Ya, do you wanna pick them up they seem to be having trouble sleeping.. and it seems like you guys need to work through a few things so maybe it would be best if you did..'' They were surprised that he called. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or anything, it was just that it didn’t always seem like he was that interested in you, as if being convenient to them and such. So for him to call up your friend was quite unexpected.

When Suna arrived he got out and knocked on the door after being met with your friend, “I’m only telling you this once so listen to me. Y/n loves you okay? If you're not interested just let them be okay? There are a bunch of people who would kill to be with them. If you do not have the time for them please just let them be, so they can find someone who can take care of them when they need someone too. Y/n is quiet about their feelings but that doesn’t mean you can only be with them when it is convenient to you, let alone only at night. If you don’t want to step up please just step down and let someone else fill your role for you. They are hurting to much because of your actions and you don’t seem to ever fucking care. Please just let them go if you're done.. This game has been over a long time ago. You won okay. You always will be against y/n..” they moved to the side letting the startled Suna in. “They're over there, if you don’t wanna carry them it is okay just call me over because I don’t want them to be woken up.” Suna shook his head gently. How fucking dare they assume that this was all a game to him. How dare they assume that he didn’t actually love you..? Why did they assume those things..?

Suna picked you up gently, gently you clung to him and his warmth. It was cold in the room and Suna seemed to be the only solution to it. It surprised Suna quite a lot, finding out that you were clinging to him. Being that at night he always hugged you, but you just wanted to give him space so he wouldn’t be bored of you. “Hey angel sorry for making you wait all these nights.. I promise I will be there okay.. please don’t move on I really do love you.. your my everything and I know it is stupid of me to talk to you while your asleep but sometimes I get to nervous to talk to you and I just want everything to be okay with you. Your friend is right though.. There is no excuse for what I am doing to you. I am so sorry.. angel trust me I really love you. I would be so fucking lost without you.” he muttered holding on to you tightly as he grabbed your stuff and carried you out. It was still raining as he tried his best to shelter you from the rain running to the car as he placed you in the front. It took him a moment to get you comfortable or at least that what he hoped was comfortable. He had placed a blanket on you and buckled you up as he moved to the front and started driving. It was a good thirty minute drive, and he knew soon you guys had to go back to go get your car but at this moment all he was worried about was you. “God angel.. I can’t compete with everyone else after you.. why did you choose me.. why are you still with me..?” he muttered. He gently held your hand as he looked out. You were always so cold. Suna on the other hand was like a walking heat source. Maybe because he was so big that he could hold you tight and stuff and it just made it feel warmer or something but it worked better than you could imagine.

It took a bit of time but soon you had arrived, sadly the rain hadn’t eased up. Suna got out first picking you up as he wrapped the blanket around you so you wouldn’t get cold or wet. You shifted around in his arms. “mm..” you muttered your eyes fluttering open with the feeling of his arms again and the feeling of movement. You held on tightly to Suna, “Baby..?” you grumbled softly confused where you were and what you were doing. Why was he here? More importantly, how did he find you.. did he really care? God it felt great to think that he did.

“Ah I’m sorry for waking you angel.. close your eyes I’ve got you now.. that house was too cold. I’ve got you now. We are home so you can be nice and warm again okay..? Don’t worry I’ve got you now so everything will be okay. I am going to take a break from practice for the week okay..? I am going to ease up on the practice so you won’t have to worry. I love you so much. I know I haven’t been a good boyfriend and I know I need to step it up. Will I be okay? Don’t worry I am going to be better for you okay. I am sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you and I am going to do my best to make you feel better.. and if it doesn’t help I will let go okay. I’m going to finally let you breathe but please just give me just one more chance. I know I love you, and I know I don’t show it but I promise I do. If I didn’t please tell me what was that pain in my chest when I didn’t see you, I know I sound stupid I know I do but I know I really do love you. Hearing what your friend said and I know they're right but it just hit me. I am not ashamed of you.. you know that right..? I just don't want my team to know because last time when word got out I was dating someone the pressure was to muc. on them and the new articles and stuff and I just don’t wanna pressure you. I don’t want us to end because of that. I want everything to be perfect. I know I come home late, I just.. I don’t know. I know it is too much on you and I don't want that I just don’t everything to be over because of an argument that could have been avoided if I just you know.. not came home or something. I know it is no excuse but I am telling the truth please believe me. I can’t live without you.. I love you so much please baby.. fuck. I keep rambling. I am sorry angel. get some rest we will talk about this in the morning..” he muttered softly walking inside and gently placing you in bed as he walked and changed coming back as soon as he could.

You were wide awake.. but you just wanted to wait so you knew he would still be there when you woke up. So you knew he wouldn’t be gone before anything. So you knew he wasn’t lying anymore. “Night baby..” you muttered as his arms wrapped around you.

“Good night angel.. I love you so much..” He muttered, closing his eyes.

When the morning came you were surprised when you felt his body tight around you. “Morning my angel..” he muttered. “Did you get some good rest..?”

“Good morning.. mhm.. thank you for staying.. you don’t understand how worried I was that you were going to leave before I could say anything.. But thank you. I love you so much okay.. and I don’t what my friend said but please ignore him.. I only love you.. I will only ever love you. Please try and stay home more. It is getting hard to handle and I know it is selfish but I just want you to stay longer sometimes. I know you want the best for me but please.. it makes me feel like you actually don’t love me and I know it is wrong but I get scared and I don’t want to be.. please believe me when I say that I can handle it.. I just wanna be with you more. I just want to be what you want. I love you so much..” You were trying not to cry but you were.

“Angel… I love you so much. I will tell the whole world.. I want to. Will I be okay? I will stay with you till you wake up and eat Breakfast with you. I will come home sooner so you're not scared anymore.. I’ve got you and everything I’ve ever wanted so please don’t cry.. I love you so fucking much angel..” he whispered kissing you. This felt good.. refreshing, you felt okay for the first time in a while. You felt happy. You were going to be alright now, he was going to keep you safe and you would do the same thing. You loved each other and that's all that would ever matter because you two were made for each other.

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[ravennm84]

Serafina

Part 2     Part 3

Based on @unmaskedagain post “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” this is my take on the story and the kind of things Serafina would have done to get even. There’ll be three parts, and will hopefully be posted through the week. Blood, gore, and character death ahead. You have been warned.

She was seven years old when her Grandma Gina’s sister, Ramona, passed away. Marinette couldn’t remember ever meeting her. Her dad said that she was a very private person and didn’t get out much. Since she had never married or had any children, all of her relatives were asked to come over to the house and divide the property before the rest was sold and equally divided. 

While her parents had been in the kitchen, looking over some family cook books, Marinette had wandered around the old house until she came to a small room. It was full of spiderwebs and old toys, which greatly interested her. She spent a long time looking through the boxes and shelves until she found a locked chest in the closet. Remembering the key she had seen in a dresser drawer, she retrieved it to see if it worked. It was hard to turn, but she heard the click and was able to open the lid. Inside was a box with an envelope laying on top of it. Curious she opened the envelope and read the note as best as she could.

“If I’m dead, Serafina killed me.”

Tilting her head in curiosity, Marinette set the letter aside and opened the box. Inside was an old looking porcelain doll. It was covered in spiderwebs, the dress was old and ripped, she was missing a shoe, and the hat looked like it was stained with red paint. 

“Are you Serafina?” She asked the doll before carefully lifting it out of the box. “I don’t think you’re bad, you just look lonely. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you!” Giving the doll a gentle hug, the little girl got to her feet and left the room and letter behind. Finding her parents, she asked if it was okay to take the doll home so she could take care of her.

Tom remembered seeing that doll when he was a kid and had always thought it was creepy, but if his little girl saw the good in it, he would trust her. And since none of the other relatives wanted anything to do with the doll, it came home with them. 

Once home, the little girl raced up to her room with the doll and immediately got to work. She threw away the old dress, hat, and shoe before cleaning away all the dirt with a washcloth and carefully combing out the knotted hair. Then Marinette got to work on making Serafina a brand new outfit with new shoes and a hat. It took a few days, but she was really happy with what she came up with: a pink Victorian dress with rose and pearl accents, a wide brimmed hat with maroon feathers, and maroon slippers that tied with ribbons around the ankles.

Proud of what she had made, Marinette held the doll up high as she twirled around her room. She had been interested in fashion and clothes for months now, and making the pretty outfit for Serafina was a lot of fun. If anything, it proved to her that fashion design was what she wanted to do.

“I hope you like your new clothes, Serafina. You make the perfect little model, so I hope you don’t mind if I make more clothes for you later on. I promise to only make you clothes that will make you feel pretty.” Giving the doll a kiss, Marinette placed her next to her computer before skipping down stairs for dinner.

~oOo~

Serafina had not been expecting this when the young girl, Marinette, had opened her box. It had been decades since anyone had shown her any kindness. For so many years, she had been passed from person to person, shoved into boxes and hidden from sight or attempted to be sold off. Serafina had had no choice but to punish many of her past owners, and she had not been lax with their punishments. 

But she didn’t feel the need to do that with Marinette, this girl was different. She wasn’t afraid of her. She didn’t scorn her and hide her away where no one could see her. No, this girl was kind and made Serafina feel loved; something she hadn’t felt in nearly a hundred years. Staying with Marinette, she knew that she would be happy. So, no one needed to die here.

And she was.

The porcelain doll smiled quietly on Marinette’s desk as the years passed, and felt more for this girl than she could remember with anyone else. She felt beautiful whenever Marinette used her to experiment with a new outfit before she would make a full sized outfit for herself. She had fun when the girl would sing and dance around the room, sometimes even picking her up so she could dance with her. She felt entertained when she would play movies on her computer, one time watching a movie about a haunted doll like herself; they didn’t watch much before she turned it off, but Serafina thought it was funny. Scratching people and leaving notes wasn’t scary, she had done much scarier things than that.

As Marinette grew into a teen, Serafina felt proud as she grew from a shy girl into a fearless superhero. Her owner had a lot of love and light to give, so it made sense to her that she became Ladybug. She also felt scared for the girl, not wanting to lose her to Hawkmoth, but silently promised her that if she was ever hurt, the people who hurt her would pay her back in blood.

Serafina was also aware of the tiny god that gave Marinette her power, just as Tikki was aware of her. No doubt, the god could sense the darkness that dwelled in her porcelain body, but realized that she cared for the girl and would not harm her. So the little god wisely said nothing, she would hate it if Marinette suddenly feared her.

After all, the three of them were happy and at peace.

Until the day Marinette came storming into her room, complaining about a girl named Lila. From what she could hear, this girl was a liar and was using her friends. Knowing how much her human cared for other people, that didn’t sit well with how it would affect her. Then she didn’t hear anything about the girl for months. But when she was mentioned again, it quickly got worse from there. 

Serafina heard about the threats, the lies, almost being akumatized, her crush Adrien telling her to take the high road, all of it. She watched as one by one, her friends turned against her. Bullying her while accusing her of being a bully until only three of her classmates remained. She knew that the teacher and principal were useless and even accused Marinette of being a problem, especially after the expulsion. Serafina had nearly enacted her revenge that day, but held back when she was reinstated the next day.

Nathaniel, Rose, and Juleka were the only people left that believed her or even bothered to try and help in her class. There was also Kagami and Luka, Juleka’s brother. Serafina would admit, that boy was sharper than most. When he first saw her, his blue eyes studied her intently for a long moment until Marinette spoke up.

“That’s Serafina, she’s been passed down through my family for a long time. She was in really bad condition when I got her and took a lot of work to get her fixed up, but it was worth it. She was my first ever model and I’ve never felt lonely since she’s been around.”

Luka looked back over at the doll and gave her a smile. “I can tell, I’d bet no one gave her the proper love or attention until she came to you. And I think, if she could talk, she would say that you kept her from feeling lonely too, and all she wants is for you to be happy.”

Serafina liked that boy, a lot more than she had liked Adrien when he had come to play video games. The boy genuinely seemed to care for Marinette. And even though he could somehow sense that she was more than just a doll, he didn’t spill her secret. Yes, she approved of this one.

And then, less than a week after she returned to school, came the worst day. They were taking pictures at the school and Marinette had worked so hard on a new dress; it was pale purple cotton with teacup sleeves, a tulip skirt and pink lace at the hem. It was so sweet and looked like she was going to a spring tea party. Then half way through the day, she came into her room crying. Her makeup was smeared, there were bruises and scratch marks on her arms, another bruise on her cheek, her hair was a mess and covered in dark blue paint. The same paint that covered almost half of the dress. Tikki was doing her best to comfort the girl as she showered. Marinette was unable to save her dress and ended up throwing it away before she cried herself to sleep on her bed. 

Serafina was angry, the kind of anger she hadn’t felt since Ramona had attempted to burn her in the fireplace… and that hadn’t gone well for her. Tikki flew over to face her. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t condone you falling into old habits and killing her entire class. Despite how much they’ve hurt her, it would still break her heart if they all suddenly died.”

The doll actually considered that for a moment before picturing some very specific people. Lila, the liar that was trying to take away/destroy the person she cared about. Alya, the best friend that betrayed her, acted like a hypocrite, and took joy in hurting her. Adrien, the boy that not only broke his promise to help her as a civilian, but continually harassed her as a pseudo-hero. And finally, Hawkmoth, the person that was constantly putting her in danger. Everyone else that had harmed her would be punished, paying back the harm they had done to Marinette in blood, but those four would pay with their lives.

Tikki shook her head. “As angry as I am with Adrien, you can’t kill him. Marinette still has feelings for him and if he dies, she might never get over him. I can’t stop you from punishing them, but please try not to kill them. You know that she has a big heart and it would hurt her to lose any of them, so please keep that in mind.”

Serafina would have argued, but the little god was right. Killing around Marinette would only upset her. So she would do her best to punish them without killing them… although, accidents do happen. 

~oOo~

It was easy enough to sneak herself into Marinette’s bag the next day of school. It was even easier to select her first victims. One of her classmates, Kim, stole her backpack and dumped out all of her stuff, including her. The boy laughed about Marinette bringing a doll to school as he ran up the stairs to keep it away from her. It took little effort to make the boy trip, in full view of everyone that had been watching, and fall backwards down the steps. 

Serafina had landed at the top landing with a perfect view of the boy’s tumble, and it was oh so satisfying. She could see his knee bent in the wrong direction, a bone in his arm protruding from the skin, and blood dripping from the cuts and open wounds. But the sound was even better, all the cracking and popping of bone before he began crying like a little girl, begging for his mom.  Ah, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed those sounds.

When the principal came out to see what was happening, she hid her presence and let the principal trip over her and fall as well. He even landed on Kim, causing more injuries to both of them. She held back a laugh as the grown man wailed and cried until the paramedics arrived. Loading the two into the ambulance while one of the teachers called the Board of Governors. A representative, M. Rupere, quickly came to take over the principal’s duties while he was gone, and was surprised when a bunch of students tried to blame Marinette for the incident.

“And how is it her fault?” He asked the students that surrounded him. “Did you see her push or trip M. Le Chien or M. Damocles down the stairs?

“Marinette brought in a doll and Kim was distracted by it when he was going up the stairs, that’s how he tripped and fell,” Lila told him with tears in her eyes. “Then M. Damocles tripped over the doll and fell down the stairs too. It’s just like how she pushed me down the stairs last week and I hurt my knee. I think she’s actually trying to hurt people.”

The man looked at Lila for a moment before looking to the top of the stairs, but there was no doll there. Then he looked back at Lila with a stern glare. “Young lady, if you had been pushed down the stairs last week, you would have been severely injured just like your friend or M. Damocles. And whether or not it was Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s doll that caused the incident or not, does not mean that she is at fault for the accident. To the principal’s office, right now. I think we should have a discussion as to why you are trying to blame another student for something she did not do.”

Totally shocked, the girl looked around to her followers for some support, but they were now looking at her with uncertainty. They had just seen two people fall down the stairs and receive severe injuries, so how was Lila walking around just fine without a scratch on her? Huffing in annoyance, Lila stomped her way to the office while the class stared after her, most of them noticing the lack of limp to her walk.

Serafina was pleased with how this was turning out, she had already punished two of the people that had betrayed Marinette and had begun sewing seeds of doubt with the liar. At the moment, she was hiding in the classroom, observing everyone so she could figure out the best way to punish them. She noticed Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel sitting close to the girl and doing their best to comfort her. She also noticed Nino, a boy she had seen a couple of times over the years, casting looks back at Marinette. 

During the first break, the boy cautiously approached her, clutching his hat in his hands. “Hey dudette, listen… I, um, wanted to say I was sorry,” he said, having a hard time looking her in the eye. “After Kim fell, what that Governor dude said about Lila not being hurt, and the fact that I’ve known you forever. I felt so stupid. You would never push someone down the stairs or cheat or steal from someone like that. And I tried looking up Jagged’s discography to see if there was any mention of a song about Lila, and there was literally nothing. I tried telling Alya, but she didn’t want to listen and-”

Nino was interrupted by Marinette giving him a hug. Serafina smiled at that. The boy had thought for himself and admitted that he was wrong. He apologized and Marinette was willing to offer him forgiveness. She supposed that Nino could also be exempt from punishment, so long as he never betrayed the girl again.

Half way through the second lesson, Lila had returned to the class with two weeks worth of detention and had a meeting scheduled with herself, M. Rupere, and her mother at the end of the week. Serafina decided to let the girl’s empire fall before going in to completely destroy her.

During lunch, when all the students had left. Serafina got to work on punishing Mme. Bustier. She started by slamming the door shut, it made the woman jump and look around the room, but there was no one there. Then the giggling started, causing her to look around the room again. This time, she walked up the steps to see if anyone was hiding in the room, but she was completely alone. When she turned back to her desk, the papers she had been grading were torn to pieces. A bit panicked, Bustier tried to run out of the room, but the door was locked. As she struggled with the door, she heard the scraping of chalk and froze for a moment before looking at the board. Large words were scrawled in block letters: LIAR, ENABLER, MEAN, CRUEL, and the most frightening of all, YOU WILL PAY.

Bustier’s hands were shaking as she erased the words from the board, not understanding what was happening. Only taking a breath when the door opened and her students began to file in. Serafina quietly laughed at the teacher’s fear, she was another person that she would take her time in punishing. Payback for failing to help Marinette. For now, it was time to take out her biggest supporter. 

Again, it was much easier than it should have been to sneak herself in Alya’s backpack and go home with her. When the girl found her she sneered. “The klutz must have put you in my bag by mistake.” Then she smiled cruelly at her. “I think I’ll give you to Etta and Ella to play with before giving you back to Maribrat, maybe tell them that you need a makeover and give them some permanent markers too.”

Turning to take the doll out to her sisters, she stubbed her toe on her desk chair hard enough that she felt a crack and dropped back on her butt while hissing in pain. When she was finally able to think past the pain, she realized that she had dropped the doll and didn't see it on the floor. After wrapping her foot, she looked all over her room but couldn’t find it anywhere.

That night, things got… more than scary. Alya was absolutely terrified.

First, her computer turned on, on its own, and started printing off papers saying “YOU KNOW THE TRUTH”. She turned the computer off, only for it to turn back on after she’d climbed into bed and the browser pulled up past searches; specifically, the searches that proved that Lila had been lying. She had found that out after Lila had disappeared from school for months, but had kept to herself so she wouldn’t lose her credibility on her blog or have to admit to Marinette that she’d been right. Turning it off again, she’d decided to sleep on the couch when her phone suddenly let out a hiss and burst into flames.  

Letting out a shriek, Alya rushed to her door, and had just barely opened it when it slammed shut on her fingers, causing her to scream as she struggled to pull her hand free. She could hear her parents and Nora shouting on the other side of the door, trying to push it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Her head got fuzzy and she suddenly felt cold, she realized that she was going into shock. Her parents’ shouts became garbled background noise and Alya heard the sound of tiny feet running around the room. She tried reaching the light switch so she could see, but it was out of reach.

From the light outside her window, she could barely make out the movement of a small shadow, moving from one part of the room to another. Coming closer and closer to her with every sweep. Alya began tugging harder on the doorknob and her hand. She needed to get out. Something was in the room with her. She could almost feel the darkness creeping closer. It wanted to hurt her!

What happened next, Serafina couldn’t have planned better if she’d tried. Alya jerked back her trapped arm and the doorknob at the same time Nora threw her shoulder into the door as hard as she could. Sending the teenagers flying into her bedside table and her head hitting the corner with an audible *crack*. The doll smiled silently in the corner of the room as the paramedics were called and listened to her parents cries for their horrid daughter to wake up. They called time of death at 2:03am.

~oOo~

It was a bit more of a chore for Serafina to get back to the school, but it was still manageable as her mother had to inform the school of her daughter’s death and pick up her things. The woman had also noticed the information that had been brought up on Alya’s computer and thought that she had been up late chasing a lead. And as the lead had to do with the disturbing behavior of one of her daughter’s classmates, she thought it best to show the acting principal the information before taking her leave. 

Making her way back to the classroom, she saw that the news had spread already. Nino seemed to be hit the hardest, as it was his girlfriend, but he would get over it. Kim was still out of class, and likely would be for a few more days. Tikki saw the doll when she was peeking out of the purse and gave her a disapproving glare, but there was nothing she could do. And in Serafina’s defense, she had only intended on maiming the failed journalist, her death had been an “accident”.

When class let out for lunch, Serafina got back to work tormenting Mme. Bustier. Today, the door slammed and locked shut a few minutes after the last student left. The woman shrieked and was struggling to open the door when the giggling started again. Bustier started screaming for it to “go away” but the giggling continued. Turning back to the door, books began flying at her from all over the room, hitting her chest, back, arms since they were shielding her head.

Then the door opened to show a panicked looking M. Rupere. “I heard screaming, are you alright?” The red haired teacher looked extremely frazzled; her hair was a mess, eyes wide and dilated, and her hands were shaking.

“The books,” she said in a trembling voice. “There was giggling, the door wouldn’t open, and the books attacked me. And this was the second time!”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he stared at the woman. “Did you see who was throwing the books at you?”

Bustier shook her head in a frantic manner. “There was no one, the books just started flying at me after the giggling.”

Giving her a slow nod, Rupere gently motioned her to step out of the room ahead of him. “How about you take the rest of the day to recover? Some rest will do you some good.” 

To his relief, Mme. Bustier agreed and collected her purse before leaving the school. Looking around the room, he was confused to see all the books in place on the shelves. Curious, he went to examine her desk and saw essay papers… covered in red ink with large “F’s” on every one of them. Reading the paper on top, all he saw were a few grammar mistakes, nothing that should have resulted in a failing grade. A bit unsettled, Rupere called the Board to schedule a psychological exam for the teacher. Serafina watched the man with satisfaction, at the rate she was going with that terrible teacher, she wouldn’t be around much longer.

Her next victims were Max and Alix during science class. She switched a couple of labels on the tubs on their desk before hiding in the room to enjoy the show. Half-way through class, Max poured a large amount of reactive chemical into the mix while it was warming over a burner, and the glass exploded. The two screamed and cursed in pain as Max tried wiping the liquid away from his face, only succeeding in getting more in his eyes. Alix tried wiping it away with a cloth, not noticing in time that the fabric was also soaked in the chemicals that now covered her entire face.

Serafina was impressed with how quickly Mme. Mendeleiev reacted to the incident. Doaning on gloves in an instant and leading the two students to the chemical wash station. Both students looked to have chemical burns on their faces, arms and necks. She could already see the burns covering a large amount of their exposed skin. While the class was distracted, Serafina switched the labels back so it would appear that the two had not been doing as instructed.

When school let out, the doll hid away in Mylene’s bag and ended up going on a date with the girl and Ivan. They commented on the bad luck their class seemed to be having and wondered out loud at what the cause might have been.

Mylene was hesitant to speak as the two ate their ice cream. “Do you think… maybe it’s karma coming back on our class?”

“Why do you think that?” Ivan asked her, seeming genuinely curious. Deciding that their conversation might lead to something more, Serafina waited and listened.

“It’s just… ever since Kim fell down the stairs, it’s got me thinking. Lila says that Marinette pushed her but the only injury she says she got was a bad knee, and she’s been walking around fine since then. And then she tried blaming Marinette for Kim and M. Damocles, when Kim shouldn’t have been running up the stairs and M. Damocles tripped at the top of the stairs when she was still down in the courtyard.”

“You’re right, now that I think about it. Lila lied to that new principal and she did it really easy.” Ivan nodded slowly, his brow creased as he pulled out his phone. “I wonder if she lied about anything else.” Mylene watched over his shoulder as he looked up the story about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from an airplane. There was nothing, the only article that came up about a pet was his crocodile, Fang. The story said that he had hatched the reptile himself seventeen years earlier and any other pet wouldn’t be as rock’n’roll as Fang. “I don’t think Jagged ever had a cat, this article says that he’s only had Fang for longer than we’ve been around.”

Mylene pulled out her phone and called Rose, putting the call on speaker when she answered. 

“Hi Mylene, did you hear anything about Max and Alix? Are they going to be okay?” The girl asked as soon as she picked up.

“Ivan and I haven’t heard anything about them yet, but we have a question for you, Rose, and it’s something only you would be able to answer.”

There was a slight pause on the line. “Go ahead.”

“Do you still chat with Prince Ali?”

“Sure I do! We video chat every Saturday and I send him videos of our performances with Kitty Section. Why do you ask?”

“Ivan and I were wondering… Has he ever mentioned Lila to you?”

There was another pause, although they could hear a hushed conversation in the background. “So, you guys figured out the truth about Lila?” When they didn’t respond right away, Rose continued. “I found out a few weeks after Lila says she came back from Achu. I mentioned Lila to Ali and asked him about the charities they had been working on together, but he’d never heard of her. And Ali is only working on charities involving children, nothing with the environment. When Juleka and I tried asking Lila about it, she got really mean and threatened us if we told anyone. I would have been akumatized if Marinette hadn’t been there to calm me down.”

Ivan and Mylene were horrified, not only had Lila been lying to them, but she had threatened Rose, Juleka, and probably Marinette too. “What should we do?”

“First, you should apologize to Marinette for how you’ve been treating her and let her know that you know the truth.” They heard Juleka over the phone. “Lila has been more terrible to her than anyone else and she keeps getting in Lila’s way to protect us and Nathaniel since we know the truth about her.”

“Who all knows?” Ivan asked, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Sure, he and Mylene hadn’t really hurt her or done anything, but they hadn’t stood up for her either and they were supposed to be her friend.

“Us, Luka, Kagami, Nathaniel figured it out when she said she could introduce him to Stan Lee, Nino figured it out yesterday, and Adrien’s apparently known from the start but didn’t say anything because he doesn’t think her lies are hurting anybody.”

Both of them could hear the acid in Juleka’s voice when she mentioned Adrien, and they couldn’t argue with her. They knew he had led a sheltered life, but how could he claim that ‘lies don’t hurt anybody’ after sitting back and watching Lila and her friends torment and bully Marinette?

Mylene hadn’t even realized that she had asked that question out loud until Rose answered them. “He told us that it was Marinette’s own fault for antagonizing Lila, and ‘If she just took the high road like I told her, then Lila would leave her alone’. It took everything I had not to slap him.”

Coming from Rose, that really was saying something.

Serafina was then taken on a shopping trip to an arts supplies store, a card shop, and a stop at an ATM before going to Marinette’s family’s bakery. She smiled quietly and with great respect to the couple as they apologized to her girl, gave her cards, an entire bolt of soft purple cotton the same color that her ruined dress had been, a new sketchbook, and money to pay her back for some of the things that Marinette had given them over the past year. They even asked her to provide them with proper receipts, and admitted that they knew the amount they had given her wasn’t enough to cover everything. But they promised to pay her back before asking for anything else, as well as pay in advance for any future items or baked goods. 

The little doll would have cried right along with Marinette if she could. These two had proven themselves to her and would avoid punishment, just as Nino had.

Taglist (it’s a long one):

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[ickle-ronniekins]

it takes two

desc: when you make a stupid mistake, you can feel a shift in your friendships with your two best mates. so what better way to take care of things than to not mention anything to either of them at all? that is, until you’re bursting at the seams and need to get the story out, one way or another.

word count: 5.6k

warning(s): mentions and consumption of alcoholic beverages

A/N: something a little different. i still hope you all enjoy :) took me freaking forever to write this oi veigh. notes: my requests are still currently closed, i am merely working through the ones in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any platforms.

taglist: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darlingdetails @laneygthememequeen @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @feffffffy​@acciotwinz @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @shadowsinger11 @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff​ @kageyama-i-want-tobiors​ @letsfightsomeorcs​ @theweasleysredhair​ @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @finecole​ @angelinathebook​ @highly-acidic​ @purplefragile @90shermione​ @zreads​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @hollands-weasley​ @andromedaa-tonks​ @bbystrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle​ @mytreec​ @imseeinggred​ @idont-knowrn​ @auroraboringalis57​ @godricsswords​ @jejegu​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @starlightweasley​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​ @thisismysketchbook​ @izzytheninja​ @imboredandneedalife​ @hemmoporro​ @valwritesx​ @heavenlymidnight​ @hannolannno​ @msmimimerton​ @oh-for-merlins-sake​ @hufflepuff5972​ @pigwidgexn​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breadqueen95​ | message me if you’d like to be added or removed!

“Fred! Bloody hell, can’t you let me win just once?”

The common room was vibrating with chattering students. Across the table from you sat Fred with a rather smug look painted onto his face as if to say, Won again! You huffed dramatically; you’d been trying this entire term to beat him in a game of exploding snap and had yet to do so. You sulkily sank back into the couch and folded your arms across your chest, all while Fred just sat across from you and laughed. Just then, George plopped down next to you and thrust a goblet that was filled to the brim into your hands.

“Are you giving me this because I’ve lost to your git of a brother for the millionth time this year and need some reconciling?” You lowered your voice and your eyes to the goblet, the insides of it swirling with Gryffindor-deep crimson reds and oranges, the liquid that would course through your veins like a rapid fire.

“What’re you on about?” George asked, a sly smile creeping onto his face, “that’s butterbeer.”

You knew by the colour alone and the sheer burn in the back of your throat when you swallowed that it was definitely not butterbeer. Your eyes began to water at the sting. “Mhmm,”

“To answer your question, Y/N,” Fred dragged your name out a little bit longer than you would have liked, but he just adored teasing you, didn’t he? You narrowed your eyes at him as he relaxed back into the armchair, bringing the goblet of firewhisky to his lips, “no, I can’t let you win just once, I reckon. That wouldn’t be fair.” He then took a too-big-to-handle gulp, and began to cough from the burn of the alcohol.

“Fred, I swear to Merlin, could you be any less subtle, you idiot?” George sneered at his twin, grabbing for the goblet which Fred held above his head. George just sighed. “Can’t let the prefects see I’ve snuck this in.”

You giggled and shoved him. “Oh, you mean, your brother?”

The three of you peered across the common room to see Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny chatting away, Ron and Hermione’s shiny Prefects badges glistening on their robes. You shoved George playfully when he began to laugh.

“What? Ron wouldn’t tell. He’s too scared of us. It’s Hermione I’m worried about.”

You clinked your goblet with his and then with Fred’s and wiggled your eyebrows at the both of them. “Well then, boys, best make sure she doesn’t see, yeah?”

The three of you threw back more gulps and you reckoned it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but the buzz of the party was making you abandon all logical thoughts.

You jumped up in surprise to find yourself still in your uniform from yesterday, but somehow tucked comfortably underneath the covers in your four poster. There were two perfect seconds where everything was fine and wonderful and lovely, until the haze above you lifted and you felt the very obnoxious thumping in your head when you turned toward your window and the sunlight nearly blinded you. Groaning, you pulled the covers back over your eyes and stayed in the dark until one of your mates began to yell that you were going to be late for breakfast.

You changed into new robes and tried to tame the wild animal that was your hair, but it was really no use, so you settled for pulling it back without accentuating your migraine. Sullenly, you dragged yourself away from bed, through the portrait hole, and down the steps toward the Great Hall.

It was all coming back in fuzzy little increments, wasn’t it? Last night. You grimaced when you remembered dancing and singing and playing exploding snap and giggling like mad all evening, like a little schoolgirl. The room had been buzzing with excited students and everyone was thoroughly enjoying their Sunday evening, despite the fact that Monday morning lessons loomed in the distance. Everything seemed to be better after some firewhisky, right? Blimey. The firewhisky. No wonder you had such an awful headache! That’s the last time you’d ever listen to Fred and George and -- oi. Bloody hell. Fred and George.

You were hit not only with another sharp pain through your skill, but with the overwhelming sensation of what exactly had happened. The truth. The painful, blinding, can’t-even-pretend-it-didn’t-happen truth.

And the truth was, of course, that you’d been so overpowered by your own giddiness mixed with the alcohol that you’d promptly danced the evening straight away and fell asleep uncomfortably in the armchair next to the fire quite early in the evening. One of them, one of the twins -- and which one, you didn’t know -- had taken it upon themselves to carry you from the common room and up to your dormitory before placing you safely in bed, all before you’d been too delirious to realize that you’d pulled him forward and kissed him. KISSED him.

But who was him exactly?

Your heart jumped into your throat, eager to escape, and you stopped short right in front of the Great Hall. How could you face them now? You didn’t even bloody know which one you’d embarrassed yourself in front of! Though, surely the one had told the other, so you reckoned you’d embarrassed yourself in front of them both at this point.

And then you saw him -- he had half of his body slung over the Gryffindor table, trying desperately to grab for the last bit of bacon Ron seemed to have snatched up. He flicked his red hair out of his eyes and took the final piece of toast off of Ron’s plate in an attempt to get his brother back for stealing the bacon from under his nose. And then a bright smile split his face as he sat back down, clearly satisfied with himself, and you knew right then and there that it had been him.

You’d kissed Fred, in a drunken, delirious state.

Your stomach grumbled. You knew that you desperately needed to eat, but you turned swiftly on your heel, away from the Great Hall, away from him, away from the mess that awaited you as you ignored it all and made way for the kitchens instead.

-- -

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells. You were conscious of every grin, every flutter of your eyelashes, every wave, every movement of your own so as not to come off a certain way.

There was no way you’d be able to avoid the two of them without rising suspicion, so you told yourself you’d go on as normal and only think or speak on the entire ordeal if one of them brought it up. It was proving rather difficult though, to not think on it at least. But it had been a week and thankfully, neither of them had brought it up to you. Fred and George continuously sent you winks across classrooms and teased you mercilessly, but this was nothing new; however, each and every time they said your name with an upward inflection, a question perched on their lips, you felt your heart constrict a little.

Why was this having such an effect on you? It’s not like you fancied Fred, or either one of them, for that matter.

But the butterflies that danced around in your stomach each and every time you saw him made you question everything you thought you knew about your heart. Were you only feeling this wave of nervousness because of the kiss-that-shouldn’t-have-been, or because you were actually developing feelings for him? And if you were developing feelings for him, were they genuine, or were they only because you’d kissed him? Or perhaps, maybe the kiss meant nothing in that it was simply just a kiss, a drunken, silly mistake. OI VEIGH. You internally scolded yourself for thinking in circles.

One particularly bad day, you’d been gawking. There was no other way of describing what you’d been doing. You were straight up staring, but not in an “I love you, let’s get married” type of way, but rather, “I need to look at you for a moment to see if these feelings I’m feeling are real or I’m just kidding myself” way. Of course, Fred couldn’t tell the difference, so when he caught you watching him attempt to cut bits of gurdyroot into five equal pieces, he smirked at you and asked, “Like what you see?”

You coughed in surprise on the air you were breathing and sat up a bit straighter. “Just watching your technique,” you blurted out, which didn’t sound any less pathetic, you reckoned. You just couldn’t wait to get out of the dungeons and back to the common room to stick your nose in a book and escape to someone else’s world for a bit.

But blimey, this was driving you mad. You hadn’t told anyone of this little adventure, had you? You thought about possibly consulting Ginny, though discussing the idea of you snogging one of her brothers probably wouldn’t be high on her priority list. Then you thought perhaps Hermione, who was always of a sound mind, but then you’d have to admit to the firewhisky and that wouldn’t benefit anyone. Then the possibility of Harry caught your attention, because he was always getting himself into conundrums, wasn’t he? He was probably an expert on damage control about now. Though when it came to romance, he was kind of awkward, so perhaps he wasn’t the best person to consult either.

You were nearly bursting at the seams with this story -- you just needed to get it off of your chest, you needed to be told that you weren’t crazy and that it was totally okay to be questioning these things you were feeling. But you hadn’t had enough time to find an appropriate confidant, which resulted in you spilling your guts to the absolute worst.

“I kissed him!”

In a moment of horror, your eyes widened and you brought your hands to your mouth in surprise, because you couldn’t believe you’d just said the words out loud. All it had been this whole time was a thought, right? Perhaps even a dream. Maybe you’d been imagining it the entire time. But now, saying it out loud, you realized that what had happened that evening was as real as the befuddled boy standing across from you.

Poor George arched an eyebrow and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, you could tell. You began to shake your head and lift a finger, but he just took a step forward, his eyes softened now, as if to say, It’ll be alright, you know.  “Wait, Y/N --”

“Erm --” you were finding it really difficult to string together coherent sentences, because you weren’t exactly sure what you’d like to say. I may or may not be mad for your brother? I kissed him that one time when I was delirious and he hasn’t said anything and now I’m confused? So instead, you opted for, “Can we just -- go ahead and forget I’ve ever said anything?”

The grounds were absolutely bloody freezing -- the snow was coming down quite heavily now, everything already covered in a blanket of white, and you watched George shiver as he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Yet you felt as if your entire soul was on fire.

You noticed though, that he didn’t look surprised; Fred must’ve told him. You felt crimson red flush your cheeks and you so very much wanted to bury yourself underneath the covers of your bed in your dorm. Unfortunately for you, though, you had lessons soon. “Fred’s told you already, hasn’t he?”

“No, no, he didn’t,” George replied, eager to make sure you knew the truth.

“Reckon you think I’m out of my bloody mind, don’t you?”

“I thought that long before this whole debacle.”

You punched him square in the arm and he recoiled jokingly. “Ha haaaa,” you told him before dropping your head into your hands and groaning. When you finally had the courage to lift your head, you met George’s gaze and watched as the wind rustled his hair and snowflakes landed all over his robes. He peered at you sympathetically. “Can we just... please don’t tell Fred you know anything. If he hasn’t told you, I reckon he’s trying to repress it -- you know, kind of like a nightmare you don’t wish to remember!” George snorted at your attempt at making fun of yourself. “Or -- I dunno, maybe you could help me figure out how to broach the subject with him -- or maybe --”

George placed gentle hands onto your shoulders. “Oi, you really haven’t a clue what you’d like to do about this, d’you?”

You shook your head embarrassingly and started to groan again.

“Tell you what,” George said, gesturing for you two to head back inside the castle, “you think on it, and if you need any help, let me know. Once you come to a decision, I’ll help you execute a plan, and for the time being, this stays between us. Deal?”

For the first time in nearly a week, you felt somewhat better. You took a rather deep breath and let the cold, winter air fill your lungs before exhaling and letting your muscles de-tense. Your heart fluttered at his kindness, and the tenderness in his eyes as he watched you. “Thanks, George, I appreciate it.”

Then you picked up a huge wad of snow and threw it straight at him until he was pummeling you, too.

-- -

He winked at you just as you rolled your eyes and walked across the classroom and plopped yourself in the seat beside his. He smirked a bit, as if to say, Fancy meeting you here.

You glanced up toward the ceiling for no reason other than to not look directly at him for a moment. With your heart thundering dramatically in your chest, you internally sent out a plea to the universe, who apparently found it rather funny to pair you and Fred together in nearly every single lesson. What’ve I done to deserve this type of internal agony?

“Wow, together again,” Fred teased as he pulled out his spellbook from his bag. Then he threaded his brows together and thought for a moment, as if he was concentrating his hardest on a scientific discovery, “Don’t you find it kind of odd that we’ve been paired together in nearly every class? I mean, blimey, it’s as if our professors are trying to get the two of us to date or something.”

A lump appeared in your throat at the word date, and you swallowed to try and dislodge it. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly, a nervous laugh escaping you, “odd.”

A few weeks ago, you would’ve been delighted to have been paired with Fred. Not because you were in love with him or anything, but because he was one of your best mates, wasn’t he? And now, as you inched as far away as you possibly could from him without looking suspicious, you felt a shift in your friendship -- a crack, if you will, that, as the days went on and you became more and more uncomfortable around him because of the secret you held close to you, seemed to be growing larger and the distance between you both bigger.

You had to admit, though, the two of you were pretty great together. Not in that way, but just as partners, as equals. As friends. Which is what you’d always been. Fred had this way about him that made even the most dreadful of lessons seem lighter, and you reckoned you could do far worse than having him as your partner. You wouldn’t want to be paired with a dreadful Slytherin in Potions now, would you? You made a mental note to thank the universe later and take back what you said about the agony thing.

“Right,” Fred began one afternoon as the two of you swiftly made your way up from the dungeons to the common room, “so I reckon we should probably meet sometime soon so we can get started on this dreadful assignment for Snape, so I’ll just cancel with Lee and George. What d’you say? This weekend?”

Your breath got caught in your throat when you realized that Fred wanted to cancel plans with his best mates to spend time with you, albeit, working on assignment for Snape. But it wasn’t due for a week! “Fred, you don’t have to do that --”

George appeared around the corner and waved at the two of you before making his way through the seat of students. Meanwhile, Fred just waved you off. “Nonsense. It’s no big deal. Not trying to get away from me, are you?” He smirked at you.

“Of course not,” you replied. George appeared in front of you both, immediately engaging Fred in some conversation that you were sure was centered around some type of mischief they were looking to get into, but the blood pounding in your ears seemed to drown everything out around you.

You hated this. There was no getting around it. Why had you stupidly kissed Fred? Why was your subconscious trying to make you fall in love when you had other pressing matters, like exams and things? And why had the universe caused this wedge between you and your two best friends in the entire world?

Fingers snapped in front of your eyes and everything came back into focus. George laughed breathlessly, “You alright? Zoned out there for a moment,”

“Not dreaming about working on that assignment with me, are you? Have got a few more days until then, I’m afraid.” Fred teased. You swallowed and watched as George’s eyes shifted from his brother’s to yours.

You were able to produce somewhat of a laugh and punched Fred in the arm, a little two hard, because the boys just peered from one another to you, with confused types of grins on their faces. “Hilarious, Freddie. I’ve -- I’ve just remembered that I’ve got another assignment to finish up, so I’m going to head to the library -- but I’ll see you both later!”

And before either of the twins could convince you to come with them back to the common room to take a break, you sped off toward the library, trying with all of your might to catch your breath that seemed to have been stolen away.

-- -

You vowed after that night in the library that you were not going to let Fred get to you, no matter what. You told yourself to stay calm and grounded and to push aside whatever happened. To focus on what was in front of you. There was absolutely no point in getting worked up when it had obviously meant nothing to him, for he still hadn’t mentioned it. Who knows? Perhaps you’d also apologized in your delirious state, and he played it off. You just needed to move forward. And if your feelings were true, and it was meant to be, it would happen, wouldn’t it? The two of you.

You’d done a surprisingly good job of keeping your promise to yourself.

You found yourself falling back into your old routine. Each and every time Fred teased you or sent a wink your way, you merely rolled your eyes, reminding yourself that this was his normal behaviour and that there was absolutely no reason for you to read into it. He didn’t act overly flirty, he didn’t try and hold your hand or hug you or anything -- in fact, now that you were less focused on the entire ordeal, you came to realize that he was showing no signs that anything had happened at all.

You were busy in the common room, flipping furiously through a copy of the Daily Prophet, when the twins dropped their belongings and fell onto the couch across from you.

Without looking up, you could feel them both smirking at you. “I am not engaging in any type of firewhisky-related activity with you two again,” you told them straightforwardly.

“Why,” Fred teased, “because you’re worried about doing something you’ll regret again?”

Your heart nearly stopped beating at those few words. You froze and lifted your head; Fred was peering at you as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and George was looking back and forth between the two of you, looking as though he was ready to jump in with something if you needed him too.

“W-what d’you mean?” you asked tentatively, though you weren’t sure you wanted him to answer.

This was it, you reckoned. He was going to bring it up and then it’ll be out there in the open for the three of you to mull over; you’ll become awkward and uncomfortable around them both and that’ll be the new normal. Absolutely bloody fabulous.

Fred shrugged, as if it were obvious. “Your one woman show was quite the entertainment, you know.”

Oh. That you remembered. You breathed a deep sigh of relief, but then realized as the twins began to laugh that you weren’t exactly off the hook. It wasn’t the kiss they’d been discussing, but you reckoned that singing obnoxiously in the common room was probably just as embarrassing.

“No matter,” Fred said, “We haven’t even got any on us. Now if you’d both excuse me, I’ve got to go and ask that lovely lady out on a date. She’s been rejecting me for weeks, but I know she’ll come round.” He straightened his tie as if he were off to a business meeting and stood up, sending you and George bright grins before he went off to the other end of the common room to where Angelina was sitting reading a book. “Wish me luck.”

You watched with furrowed brows as Fred waltzed over to her, looking positively chuffed and confident, his aura of confidence engulfing the room entirely. He sat down next to her and you felt your heart begin to thunder against your ribcage; you realized now that you wanted to know the answer to Fred’s proposal probably more so than he did. And when, inevitably, Angelina rolled her eyes in a teasing sort of way but nodded her head in agreement as her eyes sparkled, you were surprised at the feelings swirling in your stomach.

It wasn’t sadness, or heartbreak, or confusion at all.

What you felt, in actuality, was relief.

You knew deep down that you didn’t love him, and thank Merlin he didn’t love you, too.

When he pulled Angelina to her feet and guided her toward the portrait hole, he looked over toward you and George and sent a wink as he bit down on his bottom lip, and for the first time in weeks, the eye roll you sent him back was genuine, and you finally felt as though you had your best mate back.

Once Fred was gone and completely out of earshot, you jumped up excitedly and began to shake George by the shoulders. “Blimey, woman, what has gotten into you?” he asked through a laugh.

“George, don’t you see?” you pleaded with him. “Clearly, whatever the bloody hell came over me doesn’t matter to Fred, because he’s sought out Ange instead! And it doesn’t matter to me either -- all those feelings I thought I had were merely because I was a nervous wreck due to the mistake I’d made. It was all in my head, wasn’t it? The feelings, I mean,” you rushed to continue when you noticed George’s confused features, “or whatever they were. Reckon I can just forget about that kiss now.” You sank comfortably into the couch, feeling as though a huge weight had finally been lifted off of your shoulders after having carried it around for bloody months, and you picked up your copy of the Daily Prophet again, reading giddily.

George leaned forward in the armchair, pressing his elbows into his knees. “You’re just going to forget about the entire thing?”

“Well, I don’t see why I’ve got to harp on it anymore, you know? Besides, I’ve got so many other things to focus on,” you told him before folding up your news clipping and setting it down on the table. “Speaking of all those things I need to do, I’d like to avoid them for the evening. What d’you say we break curfew and head down to the Quidditch pitch? I’d really like to give you a run for your money, Weasley.”

You noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes, and he was up and back from the boys dormitory with his broomstick before you could second guess yourself. You felt yourself blush when he said, “Whatever makes you happy. But I’ve got to warn you, I’m absolutely going to crush you out there.”

You pulled a thick scarf around your neck and scoffed before hopping through the portrait hole. “In your dreams, mate.”

-- -

You both landed dramatically on the couch after spending far too much time out in the cold. You wondered if your nose and ears were going to turn permanently red, and you rubbed your hands together as you inched closer toward the fire.

“You may have gotten me that time,” you told George, who was slowly sipping his steaming hot tea, “but it’s only because I’ve had an off few weeks. Now that everything’s back to normal though, I’ll be able to kick your arse just like you deserve.”

“Easy there,” he replied, and though his voice was soft, it echoed throughout the desolate common room, “don’t go getting any ideas. Haven’t you heard that Fred and I are the greatest beaters Gryffindor has ever seen?”

You actually snorted. “Right, okay, sure -- whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You realized then just how tired you actually were. You sank back into the couch and closed your eyes for just a moment; if you gave yourself a few minutes, you knew that you’d be absolutely out cold and probably snoring. You giggled a bit at the thought -- it’s no wonder Fred didn’t fall in love with you!

You heard George laugh a little too, and his voice was quiet in your ears. “Come on, Y/N, it’s nearly one -- let’s get to bed.”

And then you bolted forward, just like you had the morning after drinking all of that firewhisky. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks; next to you, George froze, a bit confused by your jolt, and you just peered at him, reliving it all over again.

Come on then, let’s get you to bed, Y/N.

It was the way he said your name, both that evening and tonight, filled with such tenderness and care that you’d be able to recognize it anywhere, easily pick it out of a lineup. You wouldn’t forget it for as long as you lived.

George threaded his brows together and shook his head slightly, as if to say, Are you alright?

And before you could let yourself figure out a better way of doing this, you breathed out, “It was you.”

His features twisted from confusion to nervousness, and then to relief. His face was flushed red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold air or the fact that he was remembering, and reliving it all with you.

It was George that you’d kissed that night, not Fred.

It was evident that he didn’t know what to say. He parted his lips, as if he were going to open his mouth and speak, but nothing happened. You laughed a bit at how bloody stupid you’d been, and then grinned sympathetically at him. “It was you, the whole time.”

You wondered how you’d missed it, how you’d assumed it was Fred. And then, as George tentatively inched forward and placed his hand on top of yours, that all those feelings of butterflies and nervousness and heart-stopping moments hadn’t been because of Fred at all.

Whenever Fred had said something cheeky and your heart began to race, it was only because you’d caught George peering at you first.

When you stumbled over your words that time in a lesson, when Fred had jokingly told you that he thought your professors were trying to get you two to date, it was only because your head and heart subconsciously yearned for his twin instead.

And when your heart had started to race that day on the snow-covered grounds, at the idea of telling Fred anything at all, it was actually because of the tenderness in George’s eyes as he promised to not say a word to anyone.

“Why -- why didn’t you say anything?” you asked him.

It was so odd to see him so nervous; he and Fred were the most confident people in the bloody world, weren’t they? George sucked in a breath and you felt yourself tighten the grip around his hands as he spoke his own truth. “I dunno... you were so tired that night and so I figured it was just a mistake. But then you got all weird around us and so I figured perhaps not. Then you went and thought it was Fred and confided in me that one day... I just didn’t want to scare you away. You were so upset and confused and I didn’t want to worsen it. I figured you’d come to the realization on your own -- or, I hoped you would.”

You bit down on your lip and continued to laugh; you had felt so embarrassed by the idea of telling Fred when you thought it was him, but with George, it felt okay.

“Look,” he continued, squeezing your hands, “I’m not really sure where you’re at right now -- I mean, blimey, we’ve been best mates for years, haven’t we? If you’d like to forget the entire thing and go back to normal, then I -- I can do that.” He paused for a moment to consider the look in your eyes. He sucked in another breath, as if more oxygen in his lungs would give him the courage to continue. “I just... I don’t know if I want to.”

He was lucky then, because you didn’t know if you wanted to either. Perhaps it wasn’t the firewhisky that made you abandon all rational -- perhaps it was George and the way he made you feel -- because you pushed aside all what if’s and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you before gently brushing your lips over his. His surprise lasted about two seconds before he melted into you completely, and it was as if the feeling of his lips moving slowly against yours brought back all recognition from that night. Of course it had been him -- the faint taste of cinnamon and vanilla transported you right back.

When you broke apart, you both hovered close to one another for a moment before looking at one another and beginning to laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire ordeal. You pressed your lips together and said, “Normal’s overrated anyway, isn’t it?” He nodded and brought your hands to his lips. “Go to Hogsmeade with me.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow,” you told him straightforwardly, “I’ve been dying to head into Zonko’s. Then let’s grab lunch and a drink at the pub. No firewhisky, though." You both laughed.

He smirked at you and you watched as the fire reflected in his eyes burned brighter. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“That depends,” you replied, somehow feeling even more confident than before, “are you going to say yes?”

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

You pulled him to his feet and he pulled you into an embrace; you wondered again how you’d gone on so bloody long not realizing it had been him who you’d kissed. You thought about apologizing for it, though you just squeezed your eyes shut and leaned your head against his chest, and you realized that he’d somehow be able to hear all of the unspoken words inside of you. Thank you for being so kind about all of this, you’d say. He pulled you tighter toward him and he pressed a kiss to your hair. I care about you too much not to be anything but that.

You both stepped apart. Awkwardly, you began to fumble with the strings on your sweater and George ran a hand nervously through his hair. This was going to be so strange, wasn’t it? Dating your best friend. Though as odd as the prospect seemed, you thought for a moment why you two hadn’t been doing this the entire time.

“Erm, so, tomorrow,” George stumbled a bit, walking with you toward the steps up to the girls’ dormitory. “Lunch, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling overly giddy as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Tomorrow.”

Just as you were both headed up to your respective dormitories, George turned and said your name and stopped you. “Yeah?” you asked.

He shook his head slightly and furrowed his brows. “You know I’m only joking, right? It was Fred that night.”

Hot, bubbly panic took you over at those words, but then the git began to laugh hysterically and so you tossed a throw pillow directly at him and it hit him square in the head. For Merlin’s sake, these two you were going to drive you bloody mad.

“In that case, I won’t be seeing you for lunch tomorrow,” you called in a sing-song type of voice before heading up the steps.

You were right at the door of your dormitory when you heard George laughing still. “Aw, come on Y/N, I know that’s not true. You find me far too irresistible. I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

You bit down on your lip to suppress a giggle. You’d have been really bloody angry had he not been so right about the irresistible thing.

“I’ll be sure to bring Fred along, too.”

“Weasley!”

[fa-headhoncho]

Amajiki Tamaki x Reader

Prompt: You get drunk at a party and Tamaki saves the day.

Word Count: uh 2487

Reader: Female

Warning: very Americanized, out of character Tama??? I've never written for him before so be nice

Masterlist

=====

You walk up the stairs to the large house, the music echoing through the street through the open door. The party was in full swing, drunk college kids littered the lawn playing various games or talking amongst themselves. It was a normal occurrence by this point. Mirio threw a party almost every weekend and invited everyone he knew… which was a lot. His kindness and ability to make anyone feel welcomed made him friends with almost everyone he encountered.

The blonde was impressive, to say the least. He managed to keep his place in the top three of his class and party. You didn’t understand how he did it. He never seemed stress either… Oh, to be Mirio Togata.

“(Y/N)!” A voice calls interrupting your thoughts. You look around, spotting Nejire trying to wiggle her way between the dancing twenty-year-olds. She gives one of them a hefty shove, apologizing before finally standing in front of you. The periwinkle-haired woman, pulling you in for a short hug, “I didn’t think you were coming-- Oh, my god.” She cuts herself off as she takes in your outfit.

You fidget nervously under her gaze, pulling down the end of your skirt. You were wearing something you stole straight from Pinterest, a black lace top with a simple blue miniskirt and some boots. It was simple enough for a college party but edgy enough to catch a certain someone’s eyes. She stares a little too long causing you to rethink the entire thing.

“Neji, finish the sentence. You’re scaring me.” You snap her out of her thoughts, shaking the arm she had a gentle grip on.

A small smirk comes across her face, leaning in slightly as she whispers, “Are you wearing that for Tama?” She innocently questions. Blood rushes to your cheeks and you duck your head away from her. “You thought you were being subtle, I know why you come to these parties. Mirio isn’t good at keeping secrets.”

You let out a groan, bringing your hands to your face to hide. A couple of weeks ago, you got a little bit tipsier than you planned and ended up confessing how you felt about the awkward, indigo-haired man to his best friend. Explaining how the only reason you came to these parties was to catch a glance of him. Mirio, of course, encouraged you to just ask him to hang out but you were too scared to ruin what little friendship you built up.

Nejire giggles, knowing she caught you redhanded. “He likes you more than you think, (Y/N).” She mindlessly confesses causing a kaleidoscope of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “He was actually talking about you the other day! Oh, you should’ve heard him. She just so sweet for her own good--” She lowers her voice to mimic Tama. somehow keeping a straight face in the process.

“--The way her eyes light up when she talks about--” She stops talking again, his intoxicated state making her distracted. You furrow your eyebrows and try to figure out where her mind just went before she lets out a squeal. “Oh, I love this song! Come dance with me!”

“Actually, I wanted to go see Tam--” You don’t have any time to finish your sentence before she drags you into the sea of drunk college students.

=====

Tamaki sighs, running a hand over his face as he contemplates the pros and cons of not going downstairs. Pros: he didn’t have to interact with anyone or possibly embarrass himself in front of almost everyone in their grade. Cons: starve to death… which sounded better at this point. The last time he went down to the kitchen during one of Mirio’s parties, he accidentally ran into someone and made them spill their drink all over themself.

He feels his face start to burn at the memory, he couldn’t even bring himself to apologize before Mirio stepped in and lead him back up to his room. After that, Tamaki stocked up on snacks in his room but they, unfortunately, ran out when he got a bit too hungry last night.

A loud growl sounds out from his stomach finalizes his decision. He decides to rip the bandaid and sets his laptop on the floor, flinging his covers off then marching towards the door. He makes his way down the stairs, the confidence he found now diminishing once he reaches the bottom.

Indigo eyes scan the first floor. Bodies were everywhere, people from different grades and even some from nearby universities filled the small three-bedroom home. It was times like these that made him grateful for his two best friends.

When Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki moved in together, it was an unspoken agreement that Tama would get the room in the attic. It was tucked away and you couldn’t hear the noise from the constant parties they threw. And, no matter what state of mind the two were in, the severity of the “no one goes past the second flight of stairs” rule was no joke. If they caught anyone trying to sneak off up there, they were kicked out and never invited to their home again.

Tamaki sucks in a breath then b-lines towards the kitchen. He skillfully avoids the bodies and safely makes it to his destination. Quickly, he goes to his cabinet of snacks and grabs the first thing he sees. He turns around and rushes back to the stairs but is stopped when he hears someone call out his name.

He immediately recognizes the voice and closes his eyes. Don’t say something stupid, don’t say something stupid, don’t stay something stupid--

His eyes snap open and his whole body goes stiff when he feels arms wrapping around his neck. Your signature scent flooded his nostrils making him relax into the hug. It feels as if the whole room disappears around the two of you, the music going silent and the people vanishing. His anxiety of coming down here was worth seeing you.

“Tama! I’ve looking for you everywhere!” You slur out, keeping your arms around him as you pull away from the embrace. “I asked Nejire where you were and I’ve been trying to get up to say hi but people keep dragging me away. I came here to see you, I--” You start to ramble off, your drunken mind taking over and allowing you to word vomit. He listens with stars in his eyes, his heart singing at the thought you came to one of these parties just to see him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for hugging you.” You suddenly unattached your body from his, a frown slipping onto your face at the action. “I know you don’t like that kind of attention. I just messed everything up--”

“It’s fine,” He rushes out before you could start rambling again. A small blush coats his cheeks as he watches your shoulders relax. “I don’t mind it from you.” He wasn’t sure you could hear him over the blaring music in the background but the large smile on your face says you did.

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by some guy sliding next to you. “Hey there, sweet thang.” The man chirped out with a small smirk on his face.

“Hi!” You innocently giggle out, eyes turning to him for a second before directing it back to him to continue your conversation. “Tama, I found this little cafe you might like--” The man looks Tamaki up and down before going back to you, stepping in between the two of you causing a pout to appear on your face. “Hey, I was talking to Tama.”

“Why don’t you and I go find a place alone?” He more of demands than offers. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at him, opening your mouth to deny him but snap it shut when he rests a hand on your hip.

“No, I don’t feel comfort--”

“Come on, don’t be a buzzkill.” He interjects, moving to lead you away from the crowd of people. Tamaki doesn’t know what takes over him when he reaches out and pulls the guy off of you. He has his hand on his shoulder as he looks down at him. He could tell by the steadiest of his words and the overpowering smell of body spray that he wasn’t drunk. He’s heard about the guys at parties that stay sober and scope out innocent girls who drank too much to take advantage of them.

He doesn’t realize how hard he was gripping the man’s shirt until he feels you gently place your hand on his lower back. “Tama, it’s fine. Let him alone.” He snaps his head to your voice and then back at the man, giving him the most intimidating look he could muster up before releasing the cotton.

“Tch. You can have her.” The man scoffs out, fixing the collar of his shirt and smoothing down the wrinkles. “She’s not even that hot anyways.” He mumbles out before walking away. Tamaki watches in satisfaction as Mirio stops him a few feet away, the bright smile on his face replaced with a scowl as he talks to him and then leads him out of the house.

Reality seems to come back to him when he hears a whine squeak out behind him. He spins around to see your lip pouted out and tears brimming your eyes. “Am I really not pretty?” You question causing his eyes to widen.

“No, no.” He rushes out, quickly moving forward to comfort you but stops himself. He didn’t want to make the situation worse by giving you an unwanted touch so he just stands there frozen. Your cries soon turn into body-shaking sobs, bringing attention towards you from other party-goers. Tamaki starts to panic on the inside, he was never good at consoling people but he couldn’t just stand there and let you degrade yourself.

Pushing down all his anxious thoughts, he reaches out and rests a gentle hand on your shoulder. He starts leading you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs as you continue to let the sleazeball’s words get to you. He couldn’t let you put yourself in front of all those people when he knew you were far from that.

Tamaki lets out a sigh of relief when you finally make it to the comfort of his bedroom. It was much easier to talk to you without anyone else around especially in this state of mind. He could focus on his thoughts and let you release your emotions freely without fearing the embarrassment tomorrow.

“I am ugly, aren’t I?” You suddenly croak out, voice still muffled by your hands.

“No, I-I think you’re very pretty, (Y/N).” You shake your head at him, dropping your hands to reveal your face. His heart sinks at your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

“You’re just saying that, Tama!” You cry out, stomping your foot like a child.

“No, I’m not!” He rushes out but you don’t look up at him. He allows his body to move over to you, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him in the eyes. Your lips were still in a pout but he noticed your tears yield. That gives him enough confidence to continue talking,

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He confesses with a small blush on his cheeks. “You don’t even need to dress up to make an impression. When you show up to class in sweats and a sweatshirt, you still take my breath away. Don’t let that guy’s words make you doubt your beauty.” You let his words soak in, sadness replaced with fluttering in your stomach.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper out with a tiny smile on your lips.

He lights up, a large smile on his own face seeing that he succeeded at comforting you. “No problem, bunny.” He gleams and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He doesn’t even realize he let his nickname slip until you let out a giggle.

“Bunny?” You innocently ask with a lift to your tone. He feels his face heat up, eye-widening once again. “I like that. Bunny, bunny, bunny.” You repeat as you rest your hands over his on your cheeks. “I’m your bunny.”

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at how joyous you were with the term of endearment. “You’re so cute.”

“So are you.” You're quick to reply, nuzzling yourself into his cheek. There's a moment of silence as you just bask in each other’s presence. The air shifts around the two of you as it happens. His gaze absently flicks to your lips then back to your eyes. You seem to notice since you start leaning in.

Before your lips could touch, Tamaki turns his head. He knew you weren’t in the right state of mind and he didn’t want you to regret kissing him. He dreamed your first kiss would be much more than that, something the two of you would remember.

Your kiss lands on his warm cheek. Your eyes flutter open to meet his downcasted ones. “I’m so sorry. I thought--”

“No, don’t apologize.” He cuts you off with a whisper as he takes your hands into his. “I really want to kiss you…” Your face lights up at that, “but I-- just think about it more, okay, bunny?”

You nod excitedly, “Can we cuddle then?”

“Of course, let’s get you into some comfy clothes first.” He suggests then presses another kiss to your forehead. You let out another giggle and wait patiently as he moves to his dresser and pulls out a t-shirt and sweats.

Tamaki turns around to give you some privacy while you change. He holds back a laugh when he hears you struggling behind him. Once he hears your shuffling stop followed by the sound of something plopping onto his bed, he decides it’s safe to turn back.

His heart nearly explodes as sees you in his clothes laying on his bed. You easily burrow into his pillows and find comfort in his blankets. He shakes his head, knocking out all the inappropriate thoughts and makes his way over to your grabby hands.

He slips under the covers and you’re immediately cuddled up to his side. He tries to calm his internal dialogue as you press against his side, carefully sliding an arm around your body and adjusting in a more comfortable position. Your head lays on your shoulder with a leg and an arm slung over him to get as close as possible.

You let out a content sigh, feeling the warmth of his body completely relaxing you. Your eyelids start to get heavy and you yawn, “Night, Tama. Love you.”

Tamaki’s body stiffens under you like a board, the hand that was absently playing with your hair comes to a halt. “I-I love you too.”

[fruitcoops]

Eve, I LOVE binging your masterlist. I was wondering if I could request a short lil story where someone reminds Jules that since Remus + Sirius got married, then Sirius and Reg are his brothers now too and Jules gets really excited about having TWO more older brothers after Coops' wedding? If not, totally fine!! Have a great year!!

Part 2 of the Coops Wedding series! It’s finally here after my computer was possessed and deleted the first version--this one is just over 4k words, so I hope that makes up for the delay! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

Preparations II Part 1

Remus had never been much of a dancer—despite his speed on the ice, he had two left feet and only the barest hint of rhythm. However, dancing at his wedding was a different story.

Sirius twirled him in a small circle, smiling from ear-to-ear as their friends and family spun around them to the beat blasting through the speakers. They still had three hours until sunset, and Remus was planning on spending every second of it with Sirius’ hand in his own. He pulled him in for another kiss—our tenth today? Twentieth? One hundredth? Who cares—and pulled away with a laugh as Jules and Katie bumped into the backs of his thighs.

“Watch it!” he called, ruffling Jules’ hair as they passed in a dramatic tango. Katie shrieked with giggles as Dumo swept her into his arms, spinning her around with a broad smile. Hope took Jules’ hands while Phil Collins began to sing about love, happiness, and everything Remus was already holding in his arms.

“Hey!” Sirius said over the music, giving Remus a squeeze.

“What?”

“I love you!”

“I hope so!” Remus laughed, spinning Sirius under his arm before reeling him in to bump their noses. “Not bad for a wedding we planned in six weeks, eh?”

Sirius shook his head, grinning. “We were engaged for ten months. How did we put that off for so long?”

“Because we’re busy all the fucking time.”

“We’re not going to be busy for three whole months,” Sirius said giddily as he picked Remus up a few inches with ease. He paused for a moment, scanning his face as if he was trying to memorize it.

“What’re you thinking about?” The were close enough that Remus hardly had to raise his voice above a murmur.

“We get to do this every day for the rest of our lives.”

His words hit Remus like a semitruck of affection and tears prickled his eyes as he leaned down for a kiss; Sirius set him down to kiss him properly, hands gently bracketing his jaw. “You are the most incredible person,” Remus said against his lips. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

“I could ask you the same.” Sirius smiled and rested their foreheads together. “Come on, I think Celeste wants to cut the cake soon.”

Remus looked over at the folding table on the other side of the dance floor and stifled a laugh; Celeste, in her pretty blue party dress, was adjusting the cake by millimeters and glanced at her watch every few seconds, as if she was afraid people were going to leave. “I’m dying to know what she eventually decided on for the flavors.”

Sirius hummed his agreement and pulled Remus along by the hand—they didn’t even have to say anything before the rest of the small crowd followed them and gathered around the table. “Wait, wait, wait!” Celeste gasped, taking her phone out of Dumo’s pocket. After a few seconds of quiet, she nodded and centered it on them. “D’accord.”

“Ready?” Remus set his hand on top of Sirius’ and the hilt of the knife, pushing slowly down as it cut through the white frosting in a smooth glide. It was perfectly baked; not a single crumb stuck to the blade as they pulled it out.

“Here we go,” Sirius muttered as they took the first piece out. “Vanilla!”

“Orange, actually,” Celeste said, beaming. “The next layer is chocolate.”

“Celeste.” Remus gave her a tight hug before passing her along to Sirius, who bent down so she could kiss his cheek.

“Merci, maman,” he said quietly. “C’est parfait.”

“Surprise!” She did little jazz hands before handing them two forks from the end of the table. “Oh, this is so exciting. You have to try it, I don’t know if it’s good. I’ve never made an orange cake before.”

“Hurry up, Cap, we’re hungry!” Logan called from the back of the crowd. Sirius pulled a face at him and carefully slid the piece onto a paper plate before linking his elbow with Remus’.

Remus took a forkful of the cake and held it to Sirius’ mouth—just as he went to eat it, Remus scooted it to the side. “Ope, a little to the left, love.”

“Remus.”

“Oh, you almost had it! Not quite that far.” He could hear Jules giggling and grinned, moving it two inches to the right as Sirius tried to get it a third time.

“Remus!”

“What? It’s not my fault you can’t catch a fork!”

Sirius finally grabbed his elbow and held it in place to get the cake into his mouth, narrowing his eyes at Remus. “Only you would be mean to me on our wedding day.”

“I’m not being mean.” Remus kissed his nose. “Just keeping things interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Sirius got his own bit of cake and held it up. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

The second his eyes shut he regretted his decision, but before he could shout a full paper plate of cake smacked into his face with a splat. Everyone gasped, then burst out laughing as the plate fell back down onto the table. Remus slowly wiped frosting from his eyes, flicking it down onto the grass. “That was mean.”

“That was payback,” Sirius corrected.

“See, I would believe you, except I know you’ve been planning to do that for at least three days.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t do it first,”

“C’mere, you.” Remus reached half-blindly for his tie, pulling him in for a sugary kiss and feeling around with his other hand for the plate. He pulled away and, before Sirius could open his eyes, smushed the leftover cake right onto his forehead.

Sirius licked his lips. “Celeste, the cake is fantastic. Do you think it’ll moisturize?”

She was laughing too hard to respond, but she blew him a kiss in between drying her eyes. Remus took a napkin of his own and wiped his face off, licking as much of it off his hands as he could. “Oh, please don’t wait for us to clean up,” he said, motioning the still-laughing crowd forward. “We’ll be here for a while.”

“Whose fault is that?” Sirius teased.

“Yours!”

They ended up ducking into the kitchen to wash up while Dumo and Celeste passed out slices of cake. “I hope there will be some left over for us,” Sirius said as Remus washed the crumbly frosting from his hair. “From the little I got, it was amazing.”

“Yeah, she nailed the orange flavor.” Remus leaned on the front of the sink, watching people mill around or return to the dance floor for one more song before enjoying their cake. The buzz of their mingled voices dripped with joy and he smiled to himself, soaking in the feeling of his family’s happiness.

Warm arms encircled his waist as Sirius’ chin rested on his shoulder. They said nothing and waited in utter silence until Remus laced their fingers together and headed back out into the summer sunshine.

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

An hour later, a dozen mismatched plates of food laid decimated on the folding table with a quarter of a wedding cake left as James headed toward the dance floor alone, clutching a piece of paper. He stopped just in front of Remus and Sirius’ table and winked at them.

“Hey, everyone. If you don’t know me, which I find difficult to believe for a number of reasons, I’m James Potter, the groom’s best friend. Yes, both of them.” He paused for a moment to let the laughter roll through. “However, I didn’t want a fight to break out over who got to have me as their best man—”

“There was no fight,” Remus corrected with a grin. “The loser got you, Pots.”

“And a lucky loser he is,” James shot back playfully before clearing his throat. “I met Sirius Black six and a half years ago, when he was eighteen and awkward. We were both awkward, actually, but he had this uncanny ability to make it look cool while I tripped over my own feet.

“The minute I met Sirius, I knew we were going to be friends. He was quiet, a little shy, and didn’t really know how talk to people. In that way, we were exactly alike.” The laughter was even louder that time and Sirius shook his head. “Ah, who am I kidding. I adopted Sirius as my best friend because I thought it would be hilarious to corrupt him.”

James glanced down at Sirius with a smile. “While I attempted to make an extrovert out of him, I learned several important things: number one, he is the least extroverted person I’ve ever met. Two, he is one of the kindest, funniest people on the planet. And three, my life had been severely lacking without him in it.”

A soft ‘aww’ washed over the group and Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ knuckles.

James looked back at the other tables as he continued. “Sirius Black is known to most of the world as one of the best hockey players of our time. To me, he’s the dorky little brother I never had, and I am so, so proud of him. I’ve had the privilege of watching him open up, not only to me, but to everyone else on the team that he loves with that big soft heart. When my son was born—you all know my son, right? I think I have a picture here somewhere—”

“No!” half the group shouted as James grinned.

“Just making sure you’re still awake. Anyway, when my son was born, naming Sirius godfather was literally the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I kinda sat back went ‘hmm, who is the first person I can think of to entrust with my child’s life?’ and the only natural decision was the one who is terrified of children.”

“Terrified is a bit of a strong word,” Sirius complained, though his eyes were shining.

“My bad, you’re petrified by children,” James corrected. “But in all seriousness—sorry, couldn’t resist—in all seriousness, I couldn’t think of anyone better suited to the job. I think that tells you everything you need to know about Sirius, actually. Even when he’s scared to death, he goes out of his way to help people when they need it.

“Sirius, however happy you are right now—and you’re basically glowing—I need you to know that it’s one tenth of how happy you have made the people you love.” James’ voice got a little tight and Sirius took an unsteady breath. “You are a natural leader and a great hockey player, but most importantly, you are an outstanding friend. You deserve every good thing coming your way, today and for the rest of your life. As your best man and your best friend, I’ll be there whenever you call.”

Sirius sniffled as James wiped his cheeks dry and turned to Remus. “Loops, take care of my little brother, alright?”

“You got it, Pots,” Remus said, barely above a whisper.

James nodded, then raised his glass of champagne. “To Sirius and Remus, and all the happiness they deserve.”

A loud cry of “cheers!” went up, followed by thunderous applause as Sirius got up and wrapped James in a full-body hug, nearly knocking them both over. They separated after a moment and James stood on his toes to kiss the top of Sirius’ head before they went back to their respective places.

“You okay?” Remus murmured, linking their hands together again.

“Fuck, I knew he was going to make me cry.” Sirius shook his head with a smile and sniffled once again. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Lily raised an eyebrow as she stood James’ place. “Y’know, Re, I seem to recall you promising me a microphone if I did this.”

“Sorry to disappoint!” Remus called back, feeling a flutter of nerves in his stomach. Lily had refused to share any of her speech with him; when he tried to sneakily grab it once, she shoved it down her shirt and glared until he left the room.

“I’ll get over it.” She rubbed her fingers along the edge of her paper and sighed. “I’ve written and rewritten this speech about a dozen times since Re asked me to do it, but just being here—” She took a moment and blinked back tears. “It’s different. Just ignore me if I cry, okay?

Lily cleared her throat and turned back to the paper. “I met Remus Lupin six and a half years ago, on the same day James met Sirius for the first time. Personally, I think we should make that day a national holiday, since it irrevocably changed the course of both our lives. James found his best friend and little brother, and I found my Remus.

“One of the first things you will notice when you meet Remus is that he is friend shaped.” Several murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd and Lily winked at Remus as he flushed pink. “Told you so. Honestly, Remus is one of those people who just exudes kindness. When I found out I was pregnant, he was the first person I told besides James. I knew Remus would not only keep my secret, but also be there in whatever capacity I needed because he cares. Truly, madly, deeply.”

Lily looked over to them with a soft, fond expression that made Remus’ stomach twist into knots. “In Sirius’ vows, he said you were sunshine through dark clouds, which is quite possibly my favorite descriptor of all time. It’s really sappy and cute, for one thing, but also true. Re, you bring light and warmth wherever you go. As someone who has been on the receiving end of that light, I can tell you that it is absolutely overwhelming in the best way. There are few places I feel safer than around you.

“And now we’re here, where you just married the love of your life.” The first tear slid down Lily’s cheek, dipping into her dimple as Remus’ own tracked down his chin. “God, Re, this is incredible. You two get to be together for the rest of your lives, and the rest of us have the best seat in the house to one of the greatest love stories of this century! I mean, c’mon, how many people can say they’ve made it through everything you did?”

Lily sniffled and raised her glass, though she maintained eye contact with him the whole time. “To Remus and Sirius, who remind us all what it looks like to be in love, even when the whole world tries to stand against you.”

A second ‘cheers’ began, but Remus was already on his feet and crashing into Lily, pulling her close as she clutched the back of his suit jacket. “I love you, Lils,” he choked out. “That was fucking incredible.”

“Love you too, Re.” She pulled back and carefully smudged her hands under her eyes to keep her makeup intact. “Ugh, sorry if I ruined your jacket with the waterworks.”

“You’re in good company.” She kissed each of his cheeks and fluffed the front of his hair up, making them both laugh as she took her seat again and Remus moved past his table with a last look to Sirius.

His mother’s eyes grew shiny with unshed tears as he held his hand out and guided her to the dance floor, where they swayed back and forth as Here Comes the Sun started to play, gentle and smooth. “Oh, you,” Hope managed as the lyrics began and Remus twirled her slowly. “I bet your father’s crying even though he’s not dancing.”

Remus glanced over to their table—as always, she was right. “He is. God, you’re good.”

“That’s what happens when you’ve been married for twenty-seven years,” she said, eyes crinkling. “Someday, that’s going to be you.”

He huffed softly. Don’t cry on mom, don’t cry on mom, don’t cry on mom. “You can’t just say stuff like that. It’s like kicking me while I’m down!”

“Little darlin’, it seems like years since it’s been clear,” she sang with a grin, tapping his nose. “Here comes the sun, dodododo, here comes the sun, and I say…”

“It’s all right,” Remus finished under his breath. The dance was over in an instant and after a thousand years at the same time—all too soon, people were clapping as they made their way back to the tables and Sirius walked over to Celeste.

She covered her mouth with her hands as he offered an arm, then nodded and accompanied him to the dance floor. He whispered something and she laughed, looping her arms around his neck with a bit of a stretch as a French song Remus had never heard came through the speakers and softened their smiles.

They talked quietly as they danced; Celeste was as elegant as ever and Sirius could be quite graceful when he put his mind to it. She traced his cheekbones with her thumbs and he closed his eyes, looking utterly at peace. Remus’ heartstrings tugged at the sight and he rested his chin on his hand, letting the waltz roll over him.

More applause followed their dance as Celeste held him in a tight embrace until a more upbeat song began and couples mobbed the dance floor. Sirius downed half his water in one gulp before sitting down with a heavy sigh, and dropped his forehead onto Remus’ shoulder. “You looked good out there,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair.

“So did you. I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

“I think we’re supposed to dance at our wedding.”

“I’m so hungry.”

Remus groaned; between the endless congratulations and conversations after the ceremony, they had no time to enjoy the assorted dishes people brought. “Same. We should go somewhere after this.”

“Other than home?”

“Home…” Remus trailed his lips to Sirius’ ear. “Is for other plans. Food happens elsewhere.”

“Good plan,” Sirius said, a little breathless as he sat back up and stood with a stretch. “Come on, sweetheart, the dance floor awaits.”

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

Thirty minutes after the sun set and Adele’s perfect fairy lights lit up the backyard, the party finally started winding down. Finn had fallen asleep with his head on Leo’s shoulder about ten minutes prior, but nobody had the heart to wake him; as the best dancer of the group, he had been a hot commodity for anyone looking to show off in addition to whirling both his boyfriends around.

Jules stumbled over to Remus and curled up in his lap without warning, snuggling his face into his chest with a jaw-cracking yawn. Regulus came up behind them a moment later, resting his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and scaring the daylights out of him. “Jesus f—frick, Reg!” he yelped, holding a hand over his heart.

“Sorry.” He didn’t look very apologetic as he turned to Remus. “Jules has been asking for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus looked down and brushed the soft bangs from his eyes. “What’s up, buddy?”

“I love you,” Jules mumbled. “You got married. That’s so cool.”

Remus smiled. “It really is. Thanks for being the ring-bearer, by the way. You did a great job.”

Jules made a muffled noise before wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist with a sigh. “Mmkay. G’night.”

“You can’t fall asleep yet!” Remus tickled his side lightly. “We’re almost done, I promise.”

“What time is it?” Jules cracked an eye open and fumbled for his wrist, turning Remus’ hand over to check. “It’s not even ten! Why am I tired?”

“You’ve had a busy day. Do you know where mom and dad are?”

“Still talking.”

Remus surveyed the crowd and quickly spotted them next to the cubs, sipping water and sharing a piece of cake. He stood carefully, making sure Jules was steady on his hip before heading toward the table with Sirius and Regulus in tow. “We’ve got a tired munchkin,” he whispered when they arrived, depositing Jules into the chair next to his mother; within moments, Jules laid his head on the table.

“Love you, Re,” he said as he tucked his arms under his head. “Best big brother.”

“Best of all three?” Logan gasped in mock-surprise.

“Three?” Jules sat up straight and gave him a confused look. It was made extra adorable by the crooked cowlick decorating the whole right side of his head. “I only have one.”

“Now that Remus and Sirius are married, you’ve got two more big brothers,” Logan reminded him. “Regulus and Sirius count.”

“That’s crazy,” Jules yawned, cocking his head at the brothers. “Re is still my favorite, but you’re awesome and I love you, too.”

Regulus made a soft sound and Sirius kissed the top of Jules’ head. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite Lupin,” he stage-whispered, laughing as Remus rolled his eyes.

Jules frowned. “You married one of us, and it sure wasn’t me.”

“Alright, second favorite,” Sirius conceded with a grin as the rest of the table laughed.

“Mama, I’m tired.” Jules traced the bead patterns on Hope’s dress.

“Okay, lovey, we can go home soon.” She raised an eyebrow at Remus and he nodded. “Do you want to say some goodbyes first?”

“We’ll see everyone tomorrow. ‘s okay.”

Lyall gathered Jules into his arms, then turned to Remus and pulled him close with a kiss to his forehead. “So proud of you, kiddo.” He looked over at Sirius for a moment. “Take good care of him, eh?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ temple as they separated, then moved aside for Hope.

She scanned his face for a moment, then touched their foreheads together. “Good luck, baby. Not that you need it, but you deserve it anyway.”

Remus pulled them both back in for a family hug, feeling Jules drape a drowsy arm around the back of his neck. “Thank you so much for being here. It means—it means everything to me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lyall whispered. “Now go, you two haven’t eaten anything tonight.”

“Thank you,” both of them breathed at the same time, sending the whole group into a fit of laughter.

They said a few more ‘thank you’s and goodbyes until the other Lions started a loud, incoherent cheer and all but chased them toward Sirius’ car, where a small ‘Just Married’ sign had been stuck on the back window. They were planning on keeping the wedding a secret from the media as long as they could—the reaction would be even more hilarious the longer they waited.

“What if—” Remus broke off into snickering as they pulled out of the Dumais’ driveway. “What if nobody notices?”

“What? That we’re married?” Sirius gave him a disbelieving look. “People are going to figure it out so fast, no matter how many times Pots changes the subject.”

Remus hummed and rested his hand on Sirius’ thigh as he drove, tapping along to the rhythm of the radio; the route was familiar to them both, even after the chaos of the day. A slow, unstoppable smile made his cheeks hurt. “We got married.”

“Damn right, we did.”

“Scuse me for a moment.” Remus rolled down his window and cleared his throat, then leaned out and whooped loud enough that people in the next state would probably be able to hear it. He calmly closed it once more, fighting down a smile. ���Sorry, I just had to get that out.”

Sirius slowed and rolled his own window down, sticking his head out into the empty night air. “I got married!” he shouted at the top of his lungs with a wild grin. “I have a husband now! Just thought you should know!”

“Husband,” Remus mused as the car started moving again. “Hmm. I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.”

[robinofinashiro]

prompt/note: i wanted to a break between the AoT posts so i wanted to post a prompt about the BNHA bois forgetting about your birthday and them attempting to make it up to you. / the req status should be opened soon if any of you want to start of thinking of reqs you want to send me. fandoms and rules are pinned to the top of my blog. also, for any other blog writers, isn’t the beta testing their doing super fucking annoying.

request status: CLOSED

pairing: bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, iida tenya

you were bit more dressed up more than usual today and bakugou noticed. he didn't say anything as he thought you were just getting more dolled up for the hell of it. he gave you a quick compliment and went on his way, stating that he had a few things to do with Kiri before the day ended

you got a bit down, feeling that maybe he had forgotten. you quickly dismissed that thought, realizing that maybe he was planning a birthday party for you and didn't want you finding out.

the rest of the day flew by, an excited feeling bubbling up inside you as you inched closer to the end of the day. you wondered by Bakugou was planning on doing for your birthday. you knew Bakugou wasn't good with planning such lovey dovey things but since it was your birthday, you figured he must've done something.

you went to Bakugou's room, knocking on the door softly as you heard a rough come in. you were about to say hello when you realized he was in training close, ready to go workout with Kiri.

+

"where are you going?" you asked, twiddling with your fingers. he didn't bother to even look back at you, "training with Kirishma," he murmured.

you sighed, "oh, I just thought you would be able to come out with me tonight," you tried to say. he shook his head no. "no, I already told you I was going to train with weird hair so stop asking!" he screamed, making you jump a bit.

Kirishima gave you a sympathetic look as you gave Bakugou one last look and walked out of his dorm.

you walked into the hallway, seeing Uraraka and Momo walking out of Momo's dorm with a small cake. they immediately saw your tear stained face and put the cake down.

"hey, what's wrong?" Momo asked. you sighed, trying to get out what you were saying but the sobs that racked your body wouldn't let you, "wait, are you trying to say that Bakugou forgot your birthday?" Uraraka asked.

you nodded, "I thought he was trying to throw me a surprise party but I walked in there, asking him if he wanted to do anything and he kicked me out saying that he was going to workout with Kirishima," upon you finishing your sentence, Bakugou and Kirishima walked out.

Uraraka gave Bakugou a death glare as Momo pulled you into her arms and walked you into your dorm. Bakugou paid no mind to them as Kirishima looked to him and sighed. "pretty crappy day for her, huh?" Kirishima asked, looking at your dorm room door. Bakugou shrugged, "she'll be fine later. she's probably mad about earlier," he said, not putting much mind on it.

Kiri gave him a look, making Bakugou confused, "I guess. just sucks she spent her birthday trapped in her room but whatever you said bro," Bakugou stood in place, wide eyed realizing that today was in fact your birthday. "

don't tell me you forgot." "FUCK."

Kirishima slammed his hands against his face, not wanting to see Bakugou's face. Bakugou felt his heart drop, feeling a huge sensation of guilt and sadness washing over him. "that's why everyone was surrounding her desk this morning," Kirishima nodded, shaking his head in disappointment, "I don't know dude, you better figure it out before it gets worse," he mentioned before walking away.

Bakugou walked into his room, slamming the door and laying his bed. he had no idea how he was going to even start to apologize to you but he knew he had to do it tonight.

he knew Kirishima had a point.

he hadn't been the most diligent in trying to be with you recently and he kept shoving and cancelling your dates last minute to train or get work done. Bakugou was the one who asked you out first and promised you he would try his hardest to make it work out and now you were crying on your birthday.

the night was coming in and he walked over to your door, quietly knocking on it. you didn't bother to open it, knowing it was Bakugou who was more than likely to be the one who was knocking.

you flipped to the other side of the bed and ignored the knock, figuring he would leave you alone if you didn't answer. Bakugou knew that you kept the spare key for your dorm room in the small pot by your door. he dug for it, panicking that maybe you had moved it but as he finally found it, he grabbed it and unlocked it.

“hey,” his rough voice said. you shut your eyes, pretending to be asleep so he could leave quicker. he went by your side of the bed, realizing that you had fallen asleep, “damn, I didn’t think you’d be in bed this early.”

he sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“listen, I know you probably don’t care for what I have to say but you mean a lot to me, idiot. I know I fucked up, big time actually but I want to make it up to you. please? I thought maybe we could get dinner, let me treat you right and like I’m supposed too.”

Bakugou moved a piece of your hair out of the way and kissed your hair softly. a part of you wanted to continue to be upset at him but hearing his apology and what he wanted to do to make it up to you, you wanted to wake up.

“I guess I’ll be leaving before Aizawa kills us.”

you shuffled in place, pretending to wake up, making Bakugou turn his head around to look at you. “Suki?” you whispered, rubbing your eyes.

he made his way back to you, sitting on the edge of bed, “I’m sorry for what I did today,” he murmured, not even wanting to look at you in the eye, “I’ve been a dick, more than usual recently and none of it has been your fault. can I make it up to you?” he asked.

you stayed silent for a moment, “Suki, I understand that you’ve been a lot more busier than usual but that isn’t my fault. it really hurt that you forgot my birthday and it hurts even more that you’ve been putting me in second place,” you murmured, trying not to sound hurt.

Katsuki nodded.

“I know. I promise I’ll do better.”

he gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up from the bed and getting ready to leave, “love you Suki’,” you said, finding a comfortable spot in bed again, “you better,” he laughed before leaving.

you were beyond livid. todoroki had been anticipating your birthday for weeks now. the two of you were planning on going out to dinner if Aizawa had given you both permission, which he gladly allowed but two days before the outing came and he wasn’t having a good day. insults were being said and now the two of you were angry to say the least.

you figured that maybe by Saturday, he would have forgotten about the argument and the date would still have happened but what you hoped for fell through and now it was noon on Saturday and you were in your room crying to Kaminari of all people. 

he rubbed your back, trying to get you to calm down as he told you to try and forget about the argument. he knew the two of you liked each other a lot but he couldn’t help but side with you on this one so he suggested a plan!

he took Todoroki’s spot for the day and the two of you went out for your birthday. since no one else had gotten permission to leave for the day, only Kaminari was able to do this but in the backside of your mind, you knew Todoroki was going to be upset to say the least. 

+

both you and Kaminari walked to the nearest train station and took the ride to the outskirts of the city and went to a small ramen shop to catch a late lunch/early dinner. 

the only one who knew about you and Kaminari leaving was ironically enough, Bakugou. he had saw the two of you leaving the building, unenthusiastically asking where the two of you were going since you were leaving school premises. 

“so, we still have a few hours before we’re due back to school,” Kaminari reminded you. you gave him the signal to give you a minute and pulled up the nearest arcade, which happened only to be a few blocks from the ramen shop and a bit closer the train station, “you in the mood to play arcade games?” 

-

Todoroki walked down stairs to the kitchen, hoping that you were to see what kind of mood you were in. he wanted to apologize for getting angry at you and prepare himself for you dinner date in a few days. 

“hey Todoroki!” Midoriya greeted, as happily as ever. he waved at the green haired boy as he sat down next to him and watched him scroll through his Snapchat story, “oh, ( your name ) isn’t on campus?” Midoriya asked him. 

Todoroki gave him a confused look, “what do mean?” he asked back, a small bit of panic settling in the pit of his stomach. “oh, well, since it’s birthday, it looks like she went out with Kaminari,” he replied, showing Todoroki his snapchat. 

you and Kaminari both had posted a few photos and videos from the day. the ramen the two of you had eaten and then a few videos from the arcade. you were playing Mario Kart, singing some really REALLY shitty karaoke, and eating some really bad junk food. 

“is something wrong?” Midoriya asked. Todoroki ran his fingers through his hair, panic finally fully setting into his stomach, “I didn’t remember that today was her birthday,” he murmured, playing with his lip as Midoriya’s eyes widened, hearing what his friend was saying.

the two of you remained quiet, trying not to freak out. 

“what do you mean forgot? I thought the two of you were both planning something out!” Midoriya exclaimed, “we were but then the two of us got into a pretty bad argument and haven’t talked since. I forgot that we were supposed to go out together today and I think she took Kaminari instead,” he explained. 

Bakugou chuckled, shaking his head, “she sure did. I’m on Kaminari’s private Snapchat story and they seem to be getting really close,” he tossed his phone to Todoroki who watched the two of you dancing and singing together.  

Kaminari was sitting pretty close to you, his arm was around your waist, a little too firm for Todoroki’s liking. Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh at his ‘friends’ reaction as he tried to keep his anger to a minimum as he continued to watch his story. 

you were damn near cuddled up to his chest, laughing and giggling at whatever Denki was telling you and he HATED it. you never acted like that around him. you never laughed or giggled that way with him. never have you ever held yourself like that with him.

“well, did you get her anything at least? that should save your ass, at least a little bit,” Bakugou said. Todoroki stared at the floor, too scared to look at them when he replied no, “well then....don’t act surprised if she doesn’t take you back after this,” he added on. 

“Kacchan!” “it’s true! you’re just mad I’m right. Kaminari might be an idiot but he can actually hold a conversation with a girl and be civil around them when he puts his one brain cell to use.” 

Todoroki growled, remaining silent for the rest of the night as he stayed downstairs to wait for you. now that he was realizing it, the way you were being with Kaminari did correlate to what Bakugou was saying and although he didn’t want to admit to it, he knew Bakugou had a point. 

the night crawled in as Todoroki was now alone in the living room. you were getting to the front of the building, Kaminari telling you some stupid joke that made you hysterically laugh as you walked into the living space. upon entering it, you saw Todoroki sitting there with shame and anger on his face.

you waved Kaminari good, telling him you’d text him later to thank him for hanging out with you. you stared at half-n-half, not saying a word, your face saying everything it needed too. 

“where were you today?” “out with Kaminari.”

your short sentences made him realize you were still as angry as you were the day you argued with him. “I saw you getting pretty close with him,” Todoroki stated. you chuckled, not believing what he was telling you. “yup, that’s kind of what happens when your boyfriend was being a dick on your birthday,” and there it is, Todoroki thought. 

“you could have reminded me about today.” 

“REMINDED YOU ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY?” 

your voice was at an all time high, not caring who heard. “you know what? this is useless. your playing the victim when in reality I should be! it’s my fucking birthday and you know what I got as a birthday gift? another argument from my fucking boyfriend and not even a measly happy birthday text.” you continued to yell.

“you know what?” Todoroki was suddenly nervous about you quick attiude change, “maybe what Kami said was true. maybe you need to weed out the dicks in your life until you get to the good people.” you said before walking away and not sparing Todoroki another glance. 

this argument happened the day of your birthday, actually.  he had forgotten your birthday and although you had told him a few days in advanced, you weren’t making a big deal of the day itself. 

you just wanted to make a small cake, enough to feed you and Iida so when you asked him if he wanted to come to your dorm after dinner so you could eat the cake together and he outrightly denied, claiming he had a ton of training and homework to get done. 

“seriously? it’ll just be thirty minutes!” “no! I told you, I have to train for exactly an hour and a half before I take a shower and do homework! you should have known that. I wonder why we’re even together with that dismissive attitude of yours.” “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY YOU DICK!” 

he stared at you, your birthday had completely passed his mind and he felt so shitty as you dropped the cake on the floor, letting it splatter everywhere. 

+

everyone who heard the conversation stared at each other, not wanting to say anything as they saw Iida process what he had told you. he never meant to insinuate that he wanted to break up with you but it came out like word vomit and you were gone. 

he grabbed a mop and broom, slowly picking it up as he saw the disappointed faces of his friends. Iida knew he fucked up, way too badly this time and now you were crying on your birthday, practically broken hearted and angry at him. 

Iida sighed, sitting at his desk and mourning silently. the time read 7:30 and he wanted to do nothing more than bang on your door and apologize like there was no tomorrow but he knew that idea could be thrown out the window as you weren’t even texting him back. 

he saw the small gift you had given him on his birthday and felt a small wave tears hit his eyes. you did so much for him, going out of your way to bring him lunch on some days and other days, you offered to patch him up if you saw that he had gotten busted up during training. 

Iida stood up, going to the door and running to the kitchen. he knew this could be the only thing he could do to even start making it up to you again. you loved the cookies that Tensei had made for him a few weeks ago when he dropped by to visit.

he called his brother, explaining the situation to him as he immediately got a mini lecture as a response. Tensei basically yelling at him for not treating you right and how guilty he should be feeling for not only forgetting your birthday but also making you cry today. 

Iida got work as Tensei explained everything to make the cookies. he was lucky enough to have everything he needed to make the cookies, even going out of his way to remind himself to put small written notes on the cookies themselves when he finished. 

within that time, you were laying in bed, thinking about everything that Iida told you. you tried not to think about it, putting it on the fact that maybe he was stressed and forgot and everything just came tumbling out of his mouth. regardless, you tried to sleep, only to be awoken by a frantic knock.

you growled, slipping on one of Iida’s sweaters and going to the door. to your surprise, it was Iida himself, holding a plate of cookies and words coming out of his mouth like vomit. 

“I am so sorry. I meant nothing I said earlier and I apologize for acting extremely out of line. I never meant to insinuate that I wanted to break up with you and I never wanted to in the first place. please forgive me.”

you stared at him, lifting an eyebrow before rolling your eyes playfully, “the next time you decide to say something like that, we’re over and you’re not getting another chance after that,” you stated, taking a bite of the cookie and instantly letting out a moan of pleasure, “holy shit, are these Tensei’s cookies?” he nodded as you snatched the plate out of his hand. 

“that sucks that you made me cry tonight because we could have shared them but since you are on thin ice, these are mine! see you tomorrow, Iida!” you giggled, shutting the door on his face. “see you tomorrow, love.” he replied, a smile on his face as he made his way back to his dorm room to finish up some homework. 

[atths--twice]

Quiet, Soft

Needing a break from living life on the run in motel rooms, Mulder and Scully venture out to a different living environment.

A few weeks ago, I was driving home and decided to listen to a 90s playlist on Amazon and heard the song in this story. I was instantly back to nights of parties and having fun with friends. When being in my twenties was the best and life was easier. 

THEN, it made me think of MSR, out in the world enjoying places from my own memories.

Hope you enjoy. 

August 2003

The air around them was warm, stars filling the sky. There was word of a meteor shower happening later and they were sitting out waiting for it. Well, he was anyway. He was not sure Scully was even thinking about it anymore. Currently, she was swaying to the music echoing from across the river.

Two weeks ago they had been leaving a motel room, after an exceptionally long stay, and she had sighed as they put their bags into the car. Looking at her, she had shaken her head and sighed again.

"What is it?" he had asked.

"I don't know," she had answered. "I feel like we were here for too long or something. It’s a small town and thankfully people left us alone, but something feels… off. I know I wasn't always overly excited about our past trips to the forest, but I feel the time in the motel here has left me wishing for some fresh air." She shrugged and he nodded in understanding.

"Well, we do have the tent with us. We could head to the forest if that’s what you want." He had raised his eyebrows and smiled, knowing that was not exactly what she had been implying.

"I wouldn't go that far," she had said with a laugh, as they got into the car and shut the doors. "Something different would be nice, though I’ll never admit that I want to camp out in the woods." She had smiled at him and he nodded, his mind already thinking of what they could do.

After some discussion, they rented a cabin cruiser boat from a jovial, red cheeked man on a large river, despite Mulder’s tendency toward seasickness. They had stayed both on the boat and also camped out in their tent on little sandbars or grassy picnic areas with public bathrooms and showers.

About halfway down the river, there was a small dock. A path led up to a small convenience store where Scully stocked up on supplies, bringing them back to the boat with a happy smile.

Food and other necessities procured, they had driven around the river, the wind blowing through their hair as Scully laughed happily, her arm around his waist. Other times they had floated lazily, the boat rocking as Scully lay on the bow of the boat on a towel in a bikini, the sun warming her skin, as he had walked over to join her on silent bare feet with a bottle of sunscreen in his hand.

They made love in the early morning, the sun just beginning to brighten the sky, or late at night, the stars above them twinkling down through the mesh of the tent.

They went skinny dipping, day or night, shivering in the chilly water, laughing as they dunked under and swam around.

Simple meals had been cooked over a campfire or in the small kitchen of the boat, touching and smiling as they worked together.

Sitting on the boat at night, with her between his legs and leaning back against his chest, as her fingers ran gently up and down his thighs, they had listened to others who were camping around the river, music and laughter sounding in the still air.

Needless to say, she had the fresh air she had been seeking.

Tonight, there were people on the other side of the river having a party around a large fire, their music playing loudly. If they had not been there, Mulder was certain that he and Scully could have been the last two people on earth, and that would have been just fine with him.

"Mmm…” Scully hummed as she swayed, her eyes closed, a happy smile on her face, and he smiled as he watched her.

They were drinking tonight, not something they usually did, but when she had suggested margaritas by the fire, he’d had no argument. Margaritas had then turned into drinking tequila straight from the bottle, her cheeks becoming more flushed with every sip. But she was happy and he loved seeing her that way.

"Mulder, come dance with me," she sighed and he poked at the fire before getting up and coming to stand beside her. She smiled at him, her eyes half closed and head tilting back. He took the bottle of tequila from her and capped it, tossing it onto the sand.

Smiling at her, he reached out and grabbed handfuls of the new sun dress she had bought before they came onto the boat, and pulled her close. It was an interesting dress that simply wrapped around her and tied in specific spots. A wrap dress, she had called it.

“Or an unwrapped one,” he had said, tugging at the tie and kissing her neck, her laughter in his ear as his hand had slid into the dress. Finding her wearing nothing underneath, his kiss had become a nip as he growled and she shivered.

It had quickly become one of his favorite clothing items she owned.

“Hmm,” she hummed, leaning heavily against him, and he smiled.

They were not exactly dancing, but standing in the sand holding one another. She smelled of tequila, sunscreen, and sunshine; having spent the day swimming and lying lazily in the sun.

"So have you had all the fresh air you were craving?" he asked and she hummed again in response. He chuckled and ran his fingers through her hair as a yell went up across the take and he glanced in that direction.

"What do you suppose they’re doing over there? Excited for the meaty shower?"

"Do you mean meteor shower?" he asked with a soft laugh and he felt her shrug. “Are you excited, tequila drinker?"

"I've seen many me-teor showers, Mulder,” she slurred, her hands locking around his waist, her thumbs stroking his back. "But, I know you like them, so..."

"Yes, how odd of me to enjoy something as romantic as gazing up at the stars,” he said dryly as he rolled his eyes and she laughed. Tipping her head back, she looked at him through heavy lidded eyes.

"I like that you're a romantic person," she said softly. "Have I ever told you that before, Mulder?" He smiled, stroking her cheek, and brushing her hair back.

"I don't know if you've ever said as such, but l know you do."

"Good, because I really do. I always have you know." Her eyes closed and he smiled, stroking her cheek again.

"What was it that you liked most about my romantic side, Miss Scully?" he asked teasingly, but knowing her answer would be more forthcoming, the alcohol in her bloodstream loosening her tongue.

"Most? Hmm...” She licked her lips and ran her teeth slowly across the bottom one. He swallowed as he watched her, wanting to taste her lips. She smiled and opened her eyes, the moonlight shining in them. "You’re a quiet romantic, Mulder. I think that's what I’ve always liked most. It's not something… overstated or really known unless someone was paying attention."

"And you were of course.”

"Damn straight I was," she replied, her nails pressing into his back. “I always pay attention.” She stumbled slightly and he chuckled as he held her tighter.

“Mmhmm,” he murmured and she stared at him, her eyes having a hard time focusing.

“Do you… doubt me?” she slurred again and he shook his head.

“I would never,” he whispered with a shake of his head, a smile on his lips.

Strumming my pain with his fingers

“Oh… Mulder…” she said, her eyes widening as she pulled away from him unsteadily, before she closed them and began to sway and hum, the people across the way cheering and singing along loudly to the song now playing.

Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

“I really like this song. Hmm…” She raised her arms over her head as she danced, and he grinned as he watched her, the people still cheering and chanting hey, hey, hey as the song began past the chorus, Scully humming and singing along.

I heard he sang a good song I heard he had a style And so I came to see him and listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

Loud singing continued, Scully joining in a quieter tone, and he shook his head, closing his eyes as he smiled, listening and swaying slightly.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

Her hands on his chest caused his eyes to fly open. Staring down into her eyes, she sang quietly, the words slightly slurred, her body pressed close to his own, his hands falling to her hips.

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

From across the river, the singing grew louder, men and women joining in and Scully stepped away from him, her eyes closed and arms over her head again, singing along loudly in their direction.

Woah Woah-oah-ah-ah-ah uh, uh La-la-la, la, la, la Woah, la Woah, la La-ah-ah-ah-ah

It seemed everyone was now singing and he smiled as he nodded along, not knowing all the words, but enjoying the beat, and the sway of Scully’s hips.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (yes, he was singing my life) Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

She hummed as the words died down and the people laughed and the occasional chorus continued to ring out before the next song began to play.

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” she sang softly as she turned around and stepped over to him. He pulled her close as she stumbled slightly, her feet touching his in the sand and her arms wrapping loosely around him. “Killing me softly with his song… hmm.”

He smiled as they stood, only slightly moving, the warm air blowing. Moving his head down, he kissed just below her ear as he breathed in deeply. Better than any alcohol he would ever drink, her scent intoxicated him, leaving him with a hangover from which he never wanted to recover.  

“I think I should sit down,” she whispered and he laughed, kissing her neck again as she leaned further into him.

Walking to the large quilt spread out before the fire, he helped her down and then sat beside her as she laid on her back.

“The earth is spinning,” she mumbled.

“Every second of every day,” he retorted as he looked at her, a slight smile on her lips as she closed her eyes.

“Even more so right now, for me anyway. I don’t know if I’ll make it for the meteor shower.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?” she asked, reaching for his hand, her eyes opening with only a slight struggle. Appearing sober for a moment, he saw sadness within them and he wanted her to remain happy, the thoughts that haunted her lingering and causing pain.

“Of course I’m sure,” he said with a smile, taking her hand and kissing her fingers. “There are many meteor showers every year. You can catch the next one.”

He laid down beside her and she turned onto her side, releasing his hand and snuggling into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, looking up at the night sky, the stars shining brightly.

“Your understanding. Your touch. Your eyes on me. The way you lean in and it becomes only the two of us, even if there are hundreds of others around. How you care for others, for children especially. It’s quiet, soft…” She fell silent and he was sure she had fallen asleep, her breathing deep and even. He smiled, kissing the top of her head as his fingers massaged it softly, and he looked back at the sky.

“It’s quiet and soft,” she repeated in a whisper, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re a good looking man, anyone can see that, but that’s not what attracts them to you.”

“No? You don’t find me attractive?” he teased and she breathed out a laugh.

“Fuck yes I do.” He laughed and she shifted, finding a more comfortable position. “But it’s not the physical, not completely. It’s you, your intensity and caring. It’s so damn attractive and sexy.” He laughed again as she ran her hand slowly up and down his chest with a low hum.

A flash flew across the sky and he tapped her head, tugging her hair a little to raise her head back and look up.

“It’s starting, Scully. Look.”

She shifted again and they watched the sky flashing with meteors passing quickly, some brighter and longer than others. Once again he stroked her hair, her breathing deep, her fingers nearly still.

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” she sang in a whisper and he smiled.

“One time, one time,” he sang back, and she exhaled a chuckle.

“Killing me softly with his song…” she whispered, shifting again and kissing his neck, breathing out her love for him before she fell asleep, her fingers gripping his shirt.

The party across the way continued, seemingly unaware of the wonder of nature happening above them.

He stayed awake as long as he could, but the warmth of the fire, the woman beside him, and the summer evening, soon pulled him to sleep.

He dreamed of her. She was dancing in the sand, her hands beckoning to him, a beautiful smile on her face as music echoed all around them.

Strumming my pain with his fingers…

[calcifermovesthecastle]

Plus One

Mista x F! Reader, College AU

nsfw, minors dni

warnings: alcohol, swearing. 

“What’s the word?” A familiar arm drapes across your shoulders, pulling you against a warm side. You huff, doing your best to squirm away from him. 

“Let me read, Mista,” You turn the page in your book, refusing to look anywhere but the text. Mista squeezes you, laughing. 

“C’mon, Bombolone. I’ve been here forty five minutes and you haven’t even said hi to me once.” 

“Hi. Let me read.” You nudge his side with your elbow, and he laughs again. You’re loathe to admit the sound fills you with warmth. 

“So what’s the word?” He repeats, swinging his legs over your lap. You huff, pink beginning to dust your cheeks. 

“Nothing new, other than the fact that I can’t read anymore, I guess,” You look over at him, snapping your book shut. “C’mon, Mista. I have a paper on this book due next week.” 

“And I have a plus one due to a wedding in two days.” He grins easily, linking his hands behind his head. Your gaze flits to the other students in the common area. “You still haven’t given me an answer.” 

“Oh, Mista, you know I-” You sigh, meeting his face. “I’m busy.” 

“If I go to that wedding alone, my Famiglia will never let me hear the end of it,” He hums. “I’m on my knees, bombolone, you know how us Italians are.” 

“Clearly, on your knees.” You rest your elbows on his legs, putting your chin in your hands. “Promise you’ll leave me alone after?” 

“Scouts honor.” 

He grins, reaching over to gently punch your arm. “Do you have a dress?” 

“The nicest thing I own is a polo from a career tech program I joined in high school and a pair of khakis,” You answer, rolling your eyes. He hums, his eyes closing in thought. 

“Come on. I’ll buy you a dress, then.” He swings his legs off of you, dragging you to your feet. You balk at the idea, trying to wrench free from his grasp. 

“No, I can buy my own-” 

“Nonsense! We have to match anyways. It’ll be fine. Think of it as me paying for you to come to the wedding with me,” He smiles, lacing his fingers with yours. You bite your lip, squeezing his hand. 

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” You finally relent, easing out of his grip to grab your school bag. “Has anyone ever been able to say no to you?” 

“Several people, actually. Most of the time.” He plucks the bag out of your arms, looking smug. You shove him gently, your face burning. 

“Oh, shut up.” You don’t protest when he drapes an arm around you. “We have to make this quick, though. I have a class at four.” 

“That’s plenty of time.” 

-

“Are you going to let me see the dress on you, or are you just going to hide in that changing room all day, Bombolone?” Mista’s voice leaks through the curtain, and you flush, worrying at how the fabric hugs your frame. It doesn’t look bad, but it does accent some of your insecurities. 

“Give me a moment,” You reply weakly, adjusting the fabric so that it sits more nicely against you. “Okay.” 

Before you can lose your resolve, you pull the curtain back, spinning around in a slow circle. The soft blue fabric sways with your movement, and when you finally meet Mista’s eyes, his mouth is hanging open. 

“I knew it! It looks terrible on me, doesn’t it?” You blurt out, hugging your arms. Mista grabs your shoulders, getting right up in your face. 

“What?! No! I think you look incredible! I just...Stai così bene che ho dimenticato come parlare,” He mumbles, and you step back, huffing. 

“You know I don’t speak Italian, Mista.” 

He flushes, and you stare for a moment. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him blush. 

“I said you look so good I forgot how to speak,” He turns away from you, biting his lip. “I mean it. You look amazing in that dress.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” He sounds breathless. “Let’s get this one. There is nothing terrible about this dress.” 

You shuffle your feet when you reach the counter, flushing when you hear the clerk tell Mista how much he’ll be paying. 

“Oh, Mista, no, Let’s go back and find a cheaper dress,” You tug on his arm. “Or let me pay for some of it.” 

“Absolutely not,” He pulls out his wallet, handing the clerk his card. “I told you I’d pay, right? So let me pay. Don’t worry about the price.” 

“Who’s even getting married?” You ask, dropping your arms and clasping your hands in front of you. He grins down at you when the purchase is made and slides his arm through yours, leading you out of the store. 

“You’ll meet them at the wedding.” 

You slide into the passenger seat of his car, checking your phone. He puts the dress in the trunk, slipping behind the wheel and starting the car a moment later. 

“It’s only two thirty, do you want to go get lunch? My treat?” 

“After you already blew so much on me?” 

“Please?” 

“Mista, I couldn’t. Really. You can come join me in my apartment if you’re quiet and let me study.” 

“I’ll cook for you then!” He drives off, smiling to himself. You sigh, fixing your gaze out the window. 

-

You’re roused by your phone ringing early in the morning, and you groan, answering it without even checking the caller ID, your voice thick with sleep. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, get ready. You can do whatever you want with your hair. I’ll be there in about forty five minutes.” 

“Mista?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, jesus,” You pinch the bridge of your nose, yawning. “You really expect me to be able to do my hair in forty five minutes?” 

“No, of course not. I’m going to make you breakfast. We don’t have to leave for another four hours.” 

“Jesus Christ,” You yawn again. “Door’s unlocked. Just walk in.” 

-

“Hey,” You jerk awake when your shoulder is shaken, and bolt up, narrowly missing Mista’s face. 

“Shit! What time is it?!” 

“Relax, you still have plenty of time,” Mista steps back, tilting his head. “Did you fall back asleep?” 

“Unintentionally,” You sheepishly avoid his gaze. “Sorry about that.” 

“Hey, that’s why I came over so early. C’mon.” He grasps your hands and pulls you out of bed, righting you when you stand so you don’t fall over. “Coffee?” 

“Huh? No, I’m just going to take a quick shower.” You wipe at your eyes, and he smiles at you, lopsided. You stare at him blankly. “What?” 

“Nothing. You’re cute when you wake up, that’s all.” He tweaks your nose and leaves your bedroom, humming to himself. You stretch and head towards your bathroom. 

The shower does a good job at waking you up.

You enter the kitchen, in nothing but a slip and a robe, running a towel over your face. 

“Should I wear makeup?” 

“If you want,” He answers, setting a plate of pancakes in front of you. “I personally don’t think you need it.” 

“You made these?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They look good.” You take a bite, your eyes fluttering closed. “They taste good too.” 

“Hey, thanks.” He grins. “Do you mind if I use your bedroom to change?” 

“Go for it.”   

He emerges some time later, fixing the cuffs of his shirt, and you stare, dumbfounded. He catches your eye and grins easily, running a hand through his hair. 

“My eyes are up here,” He jokes, and you flush, looking away. “Like what you see?” 

“You wish,” You shoot at him, placing your thumb nail in between your teeth. He laughs, nudging your arm with his fist. 

“Did you think maybe I was bald under my hat? I know, my hair does come as a shock to some people, but don’t let it get your panties in a twist.”

“Go change into your dress if you’re ready,” He pours himself another mug of coffee, leaning against the counter and watching you with glinting eyes. You slide out of your chair, face flushed, and disappear into your room. 

Twenty minutes later, you emerge, dress on, makeup and hair done, facing another problem. 

“Uh, Mista? What am I going to do about shoes?” 

“Go ahead and just wear whatever for now, we’ll stop somewhere on the way. And make sure to take a jacket, it just started raining.” 

“Lovely,” You grab the nicest coat you own and shrug it on, pulling your umbrella out of the side closet after tugging on the shoes sitting by the door. Mista checks his phone, humming. 

“Ready?” 

“Alright. I’m part of the wedding party, but I won’t be away from you for long.” He offers you his arm and takes the umbrella from you, walking you out to his car and helping you into the passenger seat. You scroll aimlessly through your phone, nerves causing your hands to shake the longer the car ride goes. 

Halfway through the ride, he turns on the cd player and sings along quietly, tapping the wheel to the beat of the song. You’re surprised to find that he has an amazing singing voice. 

He catches your gaze out of the corner of his eye and grins, winking at you.

“You’re catching flies, bombolone.” 

You flush, looking back down at your phone. He chuckles, pulling into the parking lot of a shoe store you’ve barely even dreamed of seeing the inside of. 

“What size shoe do you wear? I’ll go in and pick something out for you.” 

“Oh, uh-” You tell him, and he grabs the umbrella from the backseat. “But-” 

“I better not hear you complain about me buying you something else, Tesoro,” He catches your eye, his glinting. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. We’re friends, right?” 

“At least let me pay you back?” 

“Absolutely not,” He smiles, leaving before you can get another word in edgewise. You slump against the seat, exhaling sharply.

He returns roughly fifteen minutes later, box in hand, a smile on his face.

“They match your dress,” Is all he says, and drives off, humming to himself. 

-

You’re asking yourself why you ever agreed to this when he pulls up to the venue, and your nervousness only grows when he reaches into the backseat and hands you a small box. 

“Relax, I’m not asking you to marry me yet,” He jokes, opening the box for you. “It’s just a corsage.” 

“Even if you did ask, I’d say no.” You watch as he slips the flower onto your wrist. He jokingly slumps back into his seat and throws an arm over his eyes, groaning. 

“Merda! How do you expect me to go on like this? I’ll just stare forlornly at the wall the entire wedding! I won’t even dance!” 

His joking manner chips away at some of your anxiety, and you can’t help but smile. 

“You’ll move on, I’m sure. Maybe I’ll finally be able to finish my schoolwork when you do.” 

“No chance,” He grins and peeks at you from under his arm. “Pull your seat back and change into your shoes so we can go in. I’ll have to leave you pretty soon but just pick a seat wherever and I’ll meet back up with you after so I can take you to the reception.” 

“I know what’s bothering me about this,” You say, opening the shoebox and gazing at the blue satin flats inside. “You never have anything this planned out.” 

“Ah, you can’t say never,” He jokes. “I had a whole plan to ask you out after I met you in Professor Nero’s class.” 

“You dropped that class, Mista.” 

“Who knew that biochem would be so difficult?” He sighs wistfully. “I just don’t have the brain for it. Who would have thought we’d see each other again in Sociology?” 

“Did you finish your paper yet?” You ask him, tugging the new shoes on. 

“Absolutely,” He laughs. “Absolutely not. I haven’t even started it.” 

“Mista, that’s due on friday.” 

“Ah, I’ll get it done,” He waves you off. “We have other things to worry about right now.” 

He steps out and around the car, opening up the umbrella and your door for you. Instead of offering you his arm, he laces your hands together as you walk into the massive church. 

“Mista, Siamo tutto qui!” A younger boy, with black hair and bizarrely violet eyes waves Mista down, and Mista calls over to him. 

“Ah, arrivo tra un minuto, Narancia!” 

“Mista, am I going to be the only english speaker at this whole wedding?” 

“Nah, ‘course not,” He squeezes your hand. “Everyone here speaks English, some better than others. I gotta get going, sit anywhere in the chapel but the first three rows.” 

“O-okay,” You find you miss his hand when he lets go, and you watch him walk down the hall, tossing his arm around a slender blonde man. 

You suppose it’s good to know he’s this familiar with everyone he comes across, You think to yourself as you take your seat and clasp your hands together. 

Other guests begin to fill the pews as time goes on, some casting you weird looks, other’s ignoring you completely, some smiling. You bite the inside of your cheek, jumping when the music starts. You watch as the groom makes his way up to the front- a long silver haired man in a black suit and purple lipstick. Trailing behind him is a young woman with bright pink hair, the purple haired boy you saw earlier, and a different, grumpier looking blond. The first blond follows him, and he’s followed by Mista, who winks when he catches your eye. Everyone stands when the- other groom starts to walk down the aisle, donned in an elegant white suit, his raven hair pristine and perfectly in place. 

The actual ceremony flies by for you, mostly because you barely understand any of the Italian being spoken. Mista grins over at you when the couple kisses, and when you finally meet back up with him at the back of the church, he pulls you into a hug. 

“Let me introduce you to my famiglia, bombolone.” 

“O-okay?” There’s not much you can do but follow him, and you’re skidded to a halt in front of the married couple themselves. 

“Bucciarati, questa è quella ragazza di cui ti ho parlato, da scuola.” 

The man in the white suit turns and smiles at you warmly, taking your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. 

“Parli italiano?” 

“Uh, molto poco,” You’re nervous, but much less in front of this man than you thought you’d be. He nods. 

“How are you enjoying your time here?” His accent is thick, but his english is near perfect. 

“I love it here,” You tell him, clasping your hands in front of you. “My Italian classes are giving me a hard time, but I am working hard to learn the language.” 

“Ciao,” The other man says gruffly, glancing over you before turning away. Bucciarati smiles, waving his hand. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s like that with everyone new. I’m surprised Mista convinced you to come.” 

“I have a hard time saying no to him,” You confess quietly. Bucciarati laughs. 

“He can have that effect on people, can’t he?” 

“Come meet Giorno,” Mista tugs on your arm, pulling you out of your conversation. Bucciarati reprimands him in italian and waves you off. 

-

You step out of the passenger seat of his car, hurrying into the convention center where the reception is being held. Mista waits in the car for the rest of the wedding party, watching you go. 

It’s later in the night when Mista approaches you out on the patio. You had retreated from the cacophony of loud music and voices, nursing your fourth glass of sweet red wine and watching as the clouds roll through the dark sky. 

“You disappeared on me,” He rests his forearms against the railing, and you glance at him, eying him appreciatively when you see that his jacket has been discarded and the sleeves of his dress shirt have been rolled up. The alcohol is doing well to make your judgement fuzzy, so you reach over and squeeze his arm. 

“Loud.” 

“It can be, yeah,” He nods, noting the way your cheeks are flushed. “How much have you had?” 

“This is my last one. Promise.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” He smiles, looking up at the sky. The loud, boisterous music turns into something soft and sweet, and you hear Mista take a deep breath.

“Would you come dance with me? Per favor?” 

You look down into your half empty wine glass, nodding. He pulls it from your hands, setting it down on the ledge, and moves to guide you back inside. You pause, just at the door. 

“Can we dance out here? I don’t want to take any attention away from the newlyweds. And it’s quieter out here, I can hear myself think.”  

“Of course,” He smiles and takes your elbows gently in his hands, pulling you against his chest. You stumble and fall, a giggle spouting from your mouth. “God, I finally get you on a date and you’re drunk.” 

His tone is teasing, and he rests his hands on your hips to keep you steady. 

“Not that drunk,” You giggle again, winding your arms around his shoulders. He tilts his head down towards you, his grin morphing into a smirk. 

“After this dance, I’m making you drink some water,” He lifts a hand and tweaks your nose. You flush and, thanks to your clouded judgement, bury your face into his chest. He rests his chin on top of your head, humming softly along to the song that filters through the door. 

-

You’re nearly sober by the time you make it back to his car, and he asks if you want to go home or if you’d like to spend the night at his place or if you’d like him to take you back home. 

“Do you live alone?” 

“Yeah, I have a one bedroom just off campus.” 

“How big is your bed?” 

“I was going to sleep on the couch.” 

“That didn’t answer my question,” You say, leaning back against the seat. 

“It’s a double.” 

“Mm, sure then. I’ll stay,” You smile over at him. “I can help you write that Sociology paper tomorrow then.” 

“Curses! You’ve revealed my hidden plan!” He slumps jokingly, burying his face in his hands. You laugh, and god, he could listen to the sound of you genuinely laughing forever. 

You step into his apartment, slipping the flats off of your feet by the door. He steps around you after slipping his own shoes off, and turns the kitchen light on. 

“Want some tea? It’ll probably do you good to prevent a hangover tomorrow.” 

“Sure.” You sit gingerly on his couch, looking around. He watches you for a moment, disappearing into his bedroom after putting the kettle on the stove. 

When he comes out, He hands you a folded pile of something soft and tells you to go ahead and shower and change, and that your tea will be ready by the time you’re done. 

You do as he says, washing your face and changing into the clothes he provided. 

You inspect the blue hoodie and clean pair of shorts he gave you, smiling to yourself. You never expected to dance with him, much less spend the night at his place and wear his clothes. The hoodie smells faintly of gunpowder, and you think to ask if he maybe visits the shooting range. 

Steam billows out of the bathroom door when you open it, and Mista teasingly asks if you’ve left him any hot water, handing you a warm mug of something that smells delicious before he disappears into the bathroom himself, emerging some time later in sweats and a loose t-shirt. You catch yourself eyeing him appreciatively again, and firmly turn your gaze down to the almost finished mug of tea. 

He joins you on the couch, tossing his arm across the back of it and flicking the tv on. For one of the first times, it’s silent between the two of you, and comfortable. Before long, you scoot closer to him and rest your head against his shoulder, and you can’t blame alcohol for that decision. Part of you is terrified, but the other part just feels warm and sleepy and content. 

“Woah, don’t fall asleep on me, bombolone,” He wraps an arm around you and peels you away from him, smiling softly. “If you’re tired let’s get you to bed.” 

“Mista, I want to cuddle with you,” You say, meeting his eyes. “It’s really scary, but I want to do it.” 

“Why is cuddling with me scary?!” 

“I may be realizing that I have a tiny amount of feelings for you,” You bite your lip. “And no one’s ever- I’ve never been held like the way you held me while we were dancing. It made me warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“That so?” He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of your head. You nod. 

“I promise that’s not the alcohol talking either. Please?” 

“I can’t say no to you,” He finally sighs, standing and pulling you up. You positively beam at him, and it’s his turn to flush and look away. 

He takes your hand and retires to the bedroom with you, allowing you to cuddle up against him when you both lie down. There’s a feather-light kiss pressed to your forehead, and your eyes have slipped closed. 

-

You wake first the next day, and notice you’re on your side facing Mista. His arm is draped over your side, and he’s snoring softly. His face is much more boyish when he sleeps, his face completely relaxed. You stretch, turning onto your back, and think about what you told him last night. 

Seeing him like this only solidifies the feelings that have nestled in the center of your chest, and you curse yourself lightly when you realize that he’s won, and that you aren’t even upset that he’s finally won you over after a year of knowing you. 

He grunts softly in his sleep and drags you closer, so you turn to face him again and card a hand through the short curls on top of his head. His eyelids flutter, and you’re met with his impossibly dark eyes the next moment. 

“Cazzo, you’re really cute when you’re sleepy,” He reaffirms what he said to you yesterday, giving you a lopsided smile. You blush, trying your best to keep a smile off of your own face. 

You don’t do a very good job at it. 

“You too. You snore though.” You avert your eyes, covering your mouth with one of the hoodie sleeves. 

“Shoulda heard yourself last night. Though a weed wacker had gone off in my room.” 

“I do not snore!” You gasp, sitting up. He laughs and drags you on top of him, securing his arms tight around you so you have nowhere to go. 

“I wouldn’t call it snoring so much as a 747 temporarily taking up residence in the back of your throat.” He hums, keeping that cocky grin on his face. You scoff. 

“I do not snore.” You state it again, firmly, and he laughs, squeezing you. 

“There are ways of getting me to shut up,” He says lightly, and you narrow your eyes, tilting your head back. 

“Why is that my responsibility? Shut yourself up, Mista.” 

“D’you mind?” 

“By all means, I’ve been asking you to for a year.” 

He smiles, then, and grabs the front of his hoodie, dragging you down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. They’re extraordinarily soft, and they do more to shut you up than him. When he pulls away, you stare at him for a moment, before cupping his face in your hands and leaning down to kiss him again, and again, and again, until you have to physically drag yourself away for air. 

“Cazzo,” He pants, cupping the back of your neck with his palm. “Just...wow.” 

“Yeah,” You nod dumbly, searching his face. “Give me more.” 

His eyes glint, and he flips the two of you so that your back is pressed against the sheets. 

“Are you sure?” 

“God, yes. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, and I am absolutely certain that I want to do it,” You reach up and drag him down to meet your lips again. His breath catches in his throat, and he worms his way down to your neck, his hands pushing up the hem of the hoodie he gave you. 

You arch your back so he can slide it off, and he groans out loud when your chest is laid bare before him. 

“Cazzo, You’re not cute, bombolone, you’re actually really fucking hot,” He breathes, cupping your breasts in his hands. You flush at his words. 

“Even the playing field,” You tell him, and you don’t have to twice because he’s already shrugging his shirt off. You’re finally met with the full plane of his stomach, instead of what you see when he wears his crop tops, and you trace the muscles appreciatively with a finger, stopping just at the hem of his sweatpants. He leans down, kissing your cheek, and starts to trail open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your carotid, stopping once or twice to suck gently at the soft skin there. He relishes in the way your breath jumps in your throat and grins against your skin, kissing along your collarbone and down your chest and stomach. 

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, pausing at the hem of the shorts, and you groan, twisting his hair into your hands. 

“God, please!” 

He laughs, a little nervously, and slides the shorts down your legs, tossing them off of the bed and spreading your legs and dipping his head between your thighs. His breath ghosts just over your clit, and you have to beg him again for him to finally start moving. 

“Sorry, I’ve just...never eaten anybody out before,” He huffs, closing his eyes and swiping his tongue up and along your folds. You gasp. “Sorry if I get a little experimental.” 

He slides his tongue up again, flicking it just right against your clit. You grip his hair harder, grinding down onto his face, your eyes squeezed shut. 

When he seals his lips around your clit and gives a testing suck, you cry out, clenching your thighs around his head. He groans against you, working to figure out what you like and what you don’t until you cry his name and arch your back, grinding against his face while you ride out your orgasm. He continues through it, forcing your thigh up and out with his free hand so he can have better access. It’s not long until you cum again, and you have to push him away when the stimulation nears pain.

“F-fuck,” You pant, blinking slowly as you try to bring the ceiling into focus. He pulls his fingers- you didn’t even notice he added more- out of you with a wet noise and holds them in front of your mouth for you to taste. 

He groans when you run your tongue along his digits, watching your face as you work diligently to clean them. He’s rock hard at this point, and itching to be inside you. 

He works off his sweatpants with a huff, his cock springing out and smacking your stomach heavily. It’s not terribly long, but dark and thick, uncut, the tip flushed pink and dribbling precum where it’s peeking out. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, but he rolls his foreskin back and nestles between your thighs, and your thoughts are clouded by what he’ll feel like inside of you. 

He takes his time, brushing the head along your folds until it catches at your entrance, and with a shaky breath, he slowly pushes in. 

You both moan when he does, your head falling back on the pillows, his hand reaching up to grip the headboard. 

“Cazzo,” He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

He rolls his hips, eliciting a cry from you that sounds like his name, and sets a slow, heavy pace. He lifts one of your legs, resting it against his shoulder, and angles his hips so he can hit all of the best spots inside you.

“Christo, do you know how good you feel? Se non sto attento, verrò subito,” He leans down and catches your lips in a kiss, brushing against your cervix when he does. You moan into his mouth, your walls spasming around him. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groans, his hips pistoning even faster into you. “F-fuck, where do you want me to cum?” 

“I d-don’t care! Anywhere is-” Your words get cut off, and you scramble to find purchase against him when you cum for a third time. He pulls out and starts jerking furiously into his hand, and you flinch when warm cum spurts against your stomach. 

“C-cazzo, he groans, flopping down next to you when he’s spent. Both of you can do nothing but breathe and bask in the afterglow, your minds working hard to catch up to the experience. His chest heaves, and he turns his head to face you, a goofy smile on his face. “That was so hot.” 

“There’s no way that was your first time eating someone out,” You gasp, loosely clasping hands with him. He laughs. “That was too good.” 

“I’m glad you think so,” He squeezes your hand, exhaling sharply. “Fuck. Let me get you a towel. 

“If you clean me up good in the shower I’ll suck your dick for you while you write your paper,” You meet his eyes, grinning at him. His face flushes, and the next moment, he’s standing and lifting you off the bed. 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

[harryspet]

Could you possibly write some dark Bucky Barnes ? Maybe the reader is super innocent and he takes advantage of it?

party princess | bucky barnes 

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x innocent reader, natasha x reader (sort of), nanny reader, manipulation, affair, drunk consent (dubcon?), little editing

A/N: I’m gonna be honest and say that I basically DNF’d this one-shot after working on it for awhile. I liked the idea at first but then towards the middle my interests in it got a little iffy. anyways, I hope you can still enjoy it for what it is. I’ll def try to write more stories like this in the future! 

In which married Bucky takes advantage of the birthday party princess. 

word count: 2.5k

“Okay, let’s see, who wants to have their wish granted?”

The crowd of first graders erupted but you quickly held up your hands to shush them, “Before I can use my magic on any of my little friends, I have to make sure you’re all good little girls and boys. How many of you are kind to your friends and listen to your Mommies and Daddies?”

Hands raised and you smiled, “That’s very good, my friends. If you want to be a princess like me or a prince, then are certain things you have to do. Princess’s are polite, kind, and most important of all …” A hush fell over the crowd as they listened patiently before you suddenly exploded with giddiness, “They like to sing and dance! Will you sing a song with me, friends?”

Bucky watched from behind the glass door as you twirled around on the terrace. He sipped at his bottle of beer, noting how your eyes lit up as the group of children gather around you. They wanted to touch your ball gown and have you tap them with your fairy wand so you could grant their wishes. You seemed to be in your element and you hadn’t fallen out of character once as you pranced around in your fairy princess costume. It was a character from the latest Disney junior show that his daughter had recently fallen in love with and Natasha had the idea of hiring a party princess for her fifth birthday party. 

Both Natasha and Bucky were surprised when you volunteered to do it. You loved makeup and the idea of making their daughter’s birthday spectacular seemed like fun. Besides, you had only been nannying with the Barnes family for a couple of weeks and you wanted to make even more of a good impression. 

“I’m starting to think she actually has magic,” Natasha commented, and Bucky turned to see her placing candles on their daughter’s birthday cake, “I can barely handle our baby girl alone and yet she’s tamed fifteen of them.”

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” Bucky smirked and Natasha grinned, lighting the candles. 

“Keep it in your pants for now,” Natasha stated slyly, “C’mon Daddy, let’s sing happy birthday.”

As he opened the sliding door for Natasha, she rolled out the cake and the entire terrace erupted with singing. Bucky joined along, of course, watching as his daughter grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the cake. You sang happily, encouraging her to blow out the candles and make a wish when the song had ended. 

Natasha took a million pictures of you and, out of the corner of your eyes, you could feel Mr. Barnes’ gaze on you. You hoped that meant you were doing a good job. Keeping a smile on your face for that long was quite a lot of work. You watched as the birthday girl ran up to her father and he swung her in his arms.

You had already noticed what a beautiful family they were and how incredibly lucky they were to live in such a nice part of town. You hoped to have something like this one day and to find someone as attentive as Mr. Barnes. You were holding a little girl in your lap as she was asking if you personally knew Mulan before you heard a gagging noise.

Before you knew it, icing colored vomit was dripping down the bottom of your dress. 

Her mother came quickly, swooping the little girl from your arms, “I’m so so so sorry! She must’ve had too much cake,” You only smiled, trying to hide any disgust that you felt. 

“It’s okay,” You stood, making sure the little girl wasn’t embarrassed, “Even princess’s get tummy aches. Besides, I have lots of dresses in my castle.”

You felt a hand on the small of your back and turned to see Mr. Barnes, “The princess will be back in just a moment,” He spoke to the crowd of first graders as if to say that he’d personally help out with your accident. 

“I’m just going to return to my castle for a moment, friends” You assured the little ones with a smile, as Bucky helped you with the long train of your dress. Natasha had spent a fortune on the dress just to make sure it was realistic. He helped you inside, and as the sliding glass door closed, you let out a breath of air. 

Your smile fell a little though you didn’t want to appear completely tired in front of Mr. Barnes. One hand carrying your train and the metal one on your back, he led you towards the master bedroom. At first, you blushed but then you realized that was probably where the most room was. 

“You looked like you were having fun out there,” Bucky commented. 

“It’s nice making them smile,” You spoke earnestly and part of Bucky told him to beware. You were too pure for him to dip his fingers into yet he still wanted to taste you. 

“Do you want to take off your dress?” Bucky smiled evilly as your eyes widened and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. 

It took a minute for you to realize what he was actually asking, “W-Well, the show must go on, right? I think I can just try to wipe it with a wet washcloth and hope for the best. I don’t want to let this ruin the party.”

Bucky nodded though he added, “My daughter loves you so I doubt you could ever ruin anything.” That made you genuinely smile because you knew then that the impression you were trying so hard to make was definitely good. Natasha had even said you deserved a raise before you’d gotten thrown upon. 

Bucky led you into the bathroom before he retrieved a washcloth and ran in under the sinkwater for you. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury of it all, the tall ceilings and the chandelier that hung. You could fit the size of your entire apartment in their bathroom. 

You sat down on the tub and began to scrub at your dress, “I really appreciate you guys giving me a chance. I know I didn’t have as many qualifications as the other girls,” Bucky knew you’d be grateful for that. Your interview with them was good and Natasha liked your personality but Bucky wanted you because of your beauty and youth. 

“You’re a hard worker, Y/N,” You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue like you could hear the satisfaction in each syllable. “Natasha and I were thinking … I’m not sure she’d want me to mention it yet-”

“What were you thinking?” You looked up with curious eyes, “I mean, of course, you don’t have to tell me, sorry.”

Be patient with her, Natasha had told him. But looking down at how the heart shape neckline of your dress exposed your breasts, patience was the last thing on his mind. 

“We wanted you to stay with us, join our staff full time. Nat wants to start working more and it’s hard for both of us to keep up with things around the house.”

“Really?” You perked up, your eyes wide with excitement, “I’d love that. I’d love that so much, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky admired the light in your eyes and knew the power he held over your life. You wanted this job desperately since it was probably the best you were going to do. You’d probably do a lot to keep it as well. 

“I’m sure Nat will be glad to hear it …. and you can call me Bucky, Y/N. Might as well drop the formalities if we’re going to be getting closer.”

Closer in proximity is what you thought he meant, “Sounds good, Bucky.”

+

It had been a few weeks since you’d moved into their luxurious home. It had been a complete dream especially with the huge pay raise that it had earned you. 

“Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?” You looked up abruptly from where you were wiping down the kitchen counter. Natasha was sitting down at the island, typing away at her laptop, while she looked you over. You still had paint on your hands and on your cheek from the painting session you had with her daughter. Now the little girl was down for her night and Natasha thought it was the perfect time to get some information, “I mean, you just never mention anyone.”

“I-I don’t,” Your cheeks heated from embarrassment, “Dating isn’t really … my thing.”

“Why’s that? You’re a lovely girl, Y/N.”

Why was she saying all this? Why the sudden curiosity? Was she worried you’d bring someone around her daughter?

“I-It’s just hard. With kids, I’m confident but, with adults, not so much.”

“Bucky used to be that way,” You weren’t expecting to hear about him, “When I met him, he was very closed off. He thought dating was still like it is in the ’40s. Sure, it’s nice to settle down but everyone these days is so … open. You know what I mean?”

You tilted your head to the side, “But you and Bucky settled down?”

“Yes, we love each other and I wanted kids so it made sense. But we still like to keep things interesting. We want to make sure each of us happy.”

“How … How do you do that?”

Natasha bit down on her lip as she thought for a moment, “Let’s have a glass of wine,” She spoke, getting up from her seat.

“Oh, I don’t drink,” You rushed out nervously, “I mean, I’ve never done it before.”

She was still moving towards the wine cabinet, “There’s a first time for everything, right? C’mon have a drink with your boss.” Your boss, right. She was speaking so casually that you had almost forgotten the line between you. 

“Are you sure? What about-”

“Bucky won’t be home until late and the little one is fast asleep. We can have some girl talk, it’ll be fun. One glass won’t do any harm,” Natasha sat the two glasses on the counter before she started to pour you some red wine. 

You’d probably be good after one glass but the universe didn’t work in your favor that night. There was a second after the first glass and now you were a giggling mess. 

Natasha managed to reach into the deepest parts of your past and had you laughing at the same time. You were exactly as she had previously predicted. You had a sheltered life, you grew up disadvantaged but had religious parents. They shamed you into not doing a lot of things but Natasha manages to drill into you that “you shouldn’t be ashamed of anything you do”.

When Bucky strolled in later that night, he found you and Nat sprawled on the couch in the living room. Whatever plan Nat had was working on, it was clearly successful, “Bucky, honey, come sit with us!”

You set your glass down, realizing how comfortable you had gotten, “Don’t be shy now, Y/N,” Nat said to you as Bucky took a seat beside her, “Y/N was telling me about her love life.”

You stared at Nat in disbelief. You understood talking about this stuff with her because she was a girl but with Bucky? “It’s exciting, I hope. There are lots of people in New York.”

“A-Actually, I-”

Natasha placed a hand on Bucky’s leg, taking another sip of wine before saying, “She’s a virgin.”

Bucky looked you over with a smirk, “And I thought the fairy princess stuff was an act ... “

You weren’t sure if you should be offended so you only said, “It’s not like that. I still know things ... “

Natasha handed her glass of wine to Bucky before standing and walking to where you were sitting on the couch. She held her hands out to you and you took them hesitantly. She pulled you up so you were standing impossibly close to her, “How much do you know, honey?”

“I … “

“Don’t you want to learn some things? So you can please the man in your life?”

“You won’t be much use to your future boyfriend if you don’t know how to please him,” Bucky interjected, leaning forward. 

You hadn’t even thought of it that way …Maybe it was the wine or something because you didn’t object to their words. “I don’t think I can ... “

Natasha still held your hands as she guided you over to where Bucky was sitting, “Of course you can,” Before you knew it, she was pushing you into his lap. You felt his hands tightening on your waist and you began to panic. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes-”

“It’s okay,” Natasha grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her as his cold hand roamed over your thigh, “We’re gonna help each other out. You can’t go the rest of your life without knowing how to please a man. How I please Bucky is with girls like you, understand?”

It was so far from anything you had ever experienced that you weren’t sure if you did understand. That didn’t stop Bucky from pressing his front to you, grabbing at your breast and rubbing circles against your nipples through your top, “Let me teach you, Y/N, I promise I won’t bite” He whispered into your ear and it must’ve been the wine that makes you whisper back, “O-Okay.”

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about Bucky in that way but the thoughts had never gone far because of Natasha. 

Natasha stepped away from a small grin on her face. After Bucky got his hands on one of the innocent dolls like you, it seemed to turn him into a complete animal in bed, and Natasha loved dealing with the consequences, “Bucky’s going to be very gentle with you, honey. Just give a shout if you need anything.”

Bucky watched as his wife stepped away, knowing he liked to watch her go. He turned his head back to you, dipping his face into your neck, starting to kiss the sensitive area there. It sent fire through you, not only to your cheeks but all over your body, “What do you know about kissing, Y/N?” Again, he could tell you were only pretending as you stuttered over your response, “Then I’m your first?”

You nodded. Nat had really hit the jackpot. He was going to thank her really well later. 

Bucky’s hand stroked your bottom lips for a moment, “Just relax,” You did your best but you couldn’t help but tense as he leaned into you and pressed his lips against yours. You thought it would be a short moment but his hands roamed over your bare legs as the tip of his tongue began to pry open your mouth. 

You let him and soon you were trying to copy his movements by moving your mouth against his. When he finally did pull away, you thought you might have totally embarrassed yourself, “Was that bad?”

Bucky immediately shook his head, “You’re a natural, baby.”

+

i really wanted to write more but i kinda just lost inspo : / and I didn’t just want to not post it. 

[lost-in-the-80s]

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood

Pairing: Axl Rose x (fem) reader

Words: 2,546k

Requested by: @sugwinter

Summary: You, one of the most prestigious actresses in Hollywood, meet Axl Rose at a party and the two of you just can’t stay away from each other. 

A/N: I’m sorry Tarantino, but the title fitted too well for me not to use it. Thanks for the request, darling! I LOVED this concept!! I hope you like it 💗

Note: This is the second version of it, since I didn’t like the first one. Tell me what you guys thought of it :)

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @normatural​ add yourself to my tag list :)

Once upon a time in Hollywood, there was a smart young woman named Y/N. She had always been ambitious and very determined so she knew she wanted to be an actress at a very young age.

When she was 16 she started running after her dreams. Coming from a poor neighborhood in Los Angeles, she’d take the bus every day after school and go to Hollywood, distributing resumes at every set she could find, hoping to get any type of work that could bring her closer to her dream.

The chance came a few months later when she was hired to be the director’s assistant. Her work consisted of getting coffee, organizing his table, staying with him while filming and distributing the scripts to all the cast members.

He was directing a sitcom and one day the main actress didn’t show up for the filming, realizing that the two of them looked alike, he asked Y/N to take her place during that day.

She did such a good job, that the following year he called her asking if she would be interested in taking part in a movie.

That was the first of many jobs, 10 years had passed after that. It was 1991 and Y/N was one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood, any movie with her name on, joined countless people in cinema lines just to see it. 

She didn’t just make movies and series, but she extended her career,  taking part in some modeling jobs for major brands and appearing in video clips.

That’s how she met Steven Tyler, the infamous vocalist of Aerosmith. She had said in an interview that Aerosmith was one of her favorite bands and got surprised when the band’s manager got in touch with her a few days later asking if she would want to take part in a video clip of theirs. 

Doing small talk before the footage they found out they had the same zodiac sign, Aries. After that the two of them got really along, Steven invited her to have dinner with him and his wife and soon all of them became good friends. 

That’s how she ended up here, on March 26th in front of his mansion, a bottle of expensive wine wrapped as a gift in one hand while the other rang the doorbell. 

“Y/N! Come in!” It was Steven’s wife.

“Hello, Teresa, how are you?” She hugged her.

“I’m fine!” She smiled tenderly at Y/N.

There was rock music blasting from the speakers sprawled around the living room, where lots of people were dancing and having fun together. Steven was known for having many friends.

“Ste!!” She shouted, lifting her arms to get a hug from the man.

“Y/N! I’m happy that you came!”  He hugged her while smiling.

“Happy birthday!!” She let go of him. “Here, I brought you a gift.”

“Ohh, this is one of my favorites!” He smirked checking out the bottle. “I’ll take it to the wine house before someone decides to drink it.” He gave her a small smile, turning around. 

That’s when she saw him. He was talking to some people, his hair half-covered by a blue bandana. He was already looking at her, smiling in her direction when their gazes met. 

A shiver ran through her body at that moment. He was beautiful, an adjective she hardly used with men. But damn, she had never seen a man like that before. Everything on him looked perfect, his beard, his hair, his eyes and the shape of his face. 

He lifted his beer in her direction and she gave him a small smile, contemplating if she should go and try to talk to him. However, a friend of hers showed up, blocking her plans.

After a few minutes of talking her friend walked away, but the ginger man had disappeared. Walking towards the kitchen she got herself a beer and went to the backyard where some people were smoking, including Steven.

“Can I have one?” She asked, stopping beside him.

He handed her the cigarette, without saying anything. The two of them just stayed there, looking at the night sky in silence. 

“What’s up?” She frowned, turning to look at him.

“What do you mean?” He looked down at her.

“You’re quiet tonight.” She drank from her beer, still looking at him.

“That makes two of us.” He smiled at her.

“Fair enough.” She grinned. “You go first.” Y/N pointed at him with the bottle while taking the cigarette to her lips.

“I was just thinking… I’m already in my forties.” 

“Annd?” She prolonged the question, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought I’d be dead by now.” He said giggling, making her laugh as well.

She shook her head. “Quit using it and I’m sure you’ll live a very long life, Tyler.” 

“I’ll try, I’ll try.” He puffed some smoke. “What about you? What’s going on that little head of yours?” He touched her forehead with his index finger, giggling at his own gesture.

“There’s a guy inside…” 

He raised an eyebrow, instigating her to keep talking.

“He seems familiar.”

“How does he look like?”

“He’s ginger, with a bandana and leather jacket.” She dragged some smoke.

“Oh, that’s Axl. He’s from Guns n Roses.” He threw his cigarette on the pavement, stepping on it.

Realization took hold of her face. “Oh yeah. Paradise City! I remember now.”

“Did he catch your eye?” He asked smirking.

“You know how I am. I’m weak on the knees for a ginger.” She smirked back.

“Let’s go inside then, I’ll introduce the two of you.” 

She followed him inside the house, putting out the cigarette in an ashtray she found on the way.

They found him in the kitchen, putting some punch on a red plastic glass nearby the counter. 

“Axl!” He shouted over the music, stopping nearby the man. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet..”

Fuck, Steven. You really know how to be discreet. She thought to herself.

“Axl, this is Y/N.” With a hand on her back, he led her closer to him. “Y/N this is Axl.” He grinned at them.

“Nice to meet you.” Axl said, extending his hand for her to shake.  

She shook his hand giving him a small smile.

“I was just telling Y/N that you guys released a new album this year…” Steven looked at her. 

“There’s two of them actually.” He answered while taking a sip from the punch.

“So I’ve heard! But I didn’t get the chance to listen to them yet.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty recent… Did you listen to the previous ones?”

“I did! They’re quite impressive, I must say.”

He smiled at her. “I’ve seen some movies of yours too.”

“Oh, did you? What did you think of them?”

“They’re… quite impressive.” He mocked her while grinning. 

She giggled. 

“Ste, can you help me with something?” Teresa showed up, hugging Steven from the side.

“Of course my darling.” He hugged her back. “Sorry guys.” Giving them a small smile he left with Teresa. 

“Punch?” He asked seeing that her bottle was empty. 

“Yes, please.” She placed the bottle on the counter. 

Axl handed her a glass, their fingers brushing against each other when she took it from his hand, making a strange electricity run through their bodies.

“Do you live here? In L.A I mean.” She asked before taking a small sip of the beverage. 

“I do, even though I’m never at home. I’m out on tour now, came back just for a few weeks.”

“It must be really tiring to be always traveling.”

“Well, it is, but it’s worth it. After all I get to do what I love.” His eyes shined while he spoke and she smiled at his passion. 

A tall guy came to the counter trying to get some punch for himself, making the two of them move.

Starting to lead him towards an adjacent living room, she asked. “Have you always wanted to be a singer?”

“No really, my family is very religious so I started singing in the church’s choir. Then someone told my mother that I could sing and she made me take classes almost every day. It was very exhausting, but it made me realize that I actually liked to sing.”

Arriving at the room, nobody was there and the music made itself lower, allowing them to talk in a normal volume. They sat on the purple velvet couch. 

“I would’ve never guessed. And are you still religious?”

“I mean, I don’t go to church anymore, but yeah, I’m still very religious.”

She nodded drinking from her glass. 

“What about you? Have you always wanted to be an actress?”

“Yes! I remember being 3 or 4 and sitting in the living room, I’d point to the TV and tell my mom that I wanted to do that.” She smiled with the memory, her eyes getting a different glist. 

“That’s a sweet memory.” He smiled at her.

And so they carried on with the conversation, talking about their favorite things and their ambitions, never letting an uncomfortable silence fill in. Even if they were sure that if the silence set in it would not be uncomfortable. The two were too comfortable with each other for this to happen.

Axl was leaning against the couch casually, his legs spread open while S/N had removed her high heels and was sitting with her two legs sprawled on top of the couch.

“And how did you end up in Los Angeles?” She asked.

“Well, when I was 16 or something, this boy from my school, he’s my rhythm guitarist now, he started a garage band with some other dudes and asked me to be their vocalist.” 

He paused getting closer to her.

“In the beginning, I was very shy, there would be days where I’d literally leave before I could sing anything. But after some time I got used to it and eventually realized that it was nice to rehearse with them.”

“However the band didn’t work out and when Izzy graduated high-school he moved to L.A, he said he’d start a band here. He asked me to come with him, but I was kinda scared of coming to a big city like this, so I stayed in Lafayette.” 

He looked around, realizing that the music had stopped. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t listened to anything for a good while. “I think we’re the only ones who are still here.” He giggled.

“No shit! What time is it?” She touched his arm, turning it towards her so she could see the time on his wristwatch. “Fuck, it’s almost 5 am.”

“Wow. We should go then.”

“Yeah!” Getting up she got her heels and purse and followed him through the house.

There were some people passed out in the living room and Steven and Teresa were in the kitchen, nearby the sink, talking quietly.

After saying their goodbyes Axl and Y/N exited the house. The cool breeze involved their bodies, even though they could see the sun starting to shine on the horizon. 

“Did you come driving?” He asked.

“No, I got a taxi actually.”

“Come, I’ll give you a ride then.”

They got into the car and Axl started driving slowly down the street. “Where should I take you to?”

“I live in Venice.”

“Alright then.” He turned right in a bifurcation.

Checking the interior of the car, Y/N realized it was a convertible one. She gasped. “It’s a convertible! Open it up, please!” 

He giggled pressing a button that opened the bonnet. “Why are you so impressed? I’m sure you have at least three of these in your car collection…”

“I don’t have a car collection. I don’t even have a car” She turned around on her seat. The bonnet was fully open and she enjoyed feeling the breeze on her hair.

“Why not?” He frowned, looking at her for a brief moment.

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” She sat still on her seat, placing her feet on the dashboard. 

“I promise I won’t.”

“Fine… I don’t know how to drive.” 

“Wait. What? But what about all those movies where you were driving?” He looked at her, trying to see if she was joking.

“I wasn’t really driving, silly.” She giggled.

He laughed along.

“Anyway, you were telling me about how you ended here.”

“Oh yeah! So, Izzy came to L.A and I stayed for two more years. I got a job and stuff, but I was always getting in trouble. I’d spend the night in jail and they’d let me go in the morning ‘cause it wasn’t a big deal. But then I got in trouble one more time and they told me they’d arrest me for real if they got me again. So I realized I should leave the city.”

“Hmm, so you’re a bad boy…” Y/N smirked.

“I guess so…. But you’re no saint yourself! You’re not best friends with the press…”

“Well...yeah! The problem is that I don’t know how to be politically correct, I just know how to be me, and people don’t usually like when you give them your honest opinion.”

He looked at her and saw that she was looking through the window.

“On top of that, I have a high tendency of not giving a fuck… I like to live, you know? I like to go out and enjoy every moment, I like to live in the present. But apparently, you’re a bad influence if they see you leaving a club at 3 am every weekend.”

With every word she said, the more he wanted to know about her. She was so much more than what he had thought. 

It was a long drive to Venice and accompanied by the soft music playing on the car radio they talked all the way, never getting tired of each other’s voice.

“That’s my building.” She pointed to a big white building in front of the beach.

“Fully delivered.” Axl said smiling, stopping the car in front of it and turning around to look at her.

“I really liked spending time with you.” She smiled.

“Do you think we could do it again on a date?” He asked expectantly.

“I’d love that! What about Friday?”

“Friday’s good for me. I’ll pick you up at 7 pm.” 

“Okay.”

The two of them just stayed still, looking at each other without saying anything. 

“Is it too early for me to kiss you?” He asked smiling.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you try it?” She smiled back.

And so the two of them leaned in, involving each other in a quick kiss that turned into a passionate one.

After a few seconds, she pulled away, catching her breath and opening the car door.

“Goodnight, Axl.” 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Little did they know that this was the beginning of a beautiful love story. Full of struggles and problems but that eventually worked out. They found a way of accepting their differences and getting along in a way that few couples could do. And after many years people still talked about them, after all, they became the most iconic 90s couple. 

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 4

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

If you have been reading this series....things are going to start happening....

Title: Dreams, Chapter 4

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3773

Summary: For Sam and the reader, a winter night working together leads to an uncomfortable confrontation and a confusing dream.

Warnings: angst, fluff?, alcohol, swearing, slow burn, I think that’s it!

           The tree was still up a few days later when you were throwing together sandwiches. It was a gloomy afternoon, stealing from the already meager offering of sunlight you got each day, but at least you could see the Christmas lights as you worked in the little kitchen and listened to Me Talk Pretty One Day. Brushing crumbs off your hands, you ducked your head into the bedroom to tell Sam lunch was ready.

           He was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed under him, looking surprisingly young with his long limbs folded. He glanced over at you briefly with a noncommittal nod before turning his gaze back to the wall. You walked into the room when you understood; following his eyes to the photos where you’d taped them up. Toeing off each of your boots, you climbed onto the mattress with him and gently put your arm around his broad shoulders. “He would’ve loved this,” Sam murmured, and it was almost too low for you to hear.

           “Which part?” you asked, trying to match his tone.

           “This cabin, the bar, Christmas.”

           “I think you’re right.”

           You looked over at the pictures, a tight row intentionally placed a little too low so you could see them as you fell asleep. Sam tilted his head to rest on yours.

           “We had a lot of fun though, didn’t we?”

           You considered the memories and the heat coming off of him under your cold fingers. “Yeah, we did.” After a beat you opened your mouth again. “Getting that tree was fun.”

           Sam pulled back and you looked up at him. A sad smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

           You curved your head back into him. “Dean would’ve liked that too.” He was silent for a moment.

           “There’s no way he would’ve worked at the bar and not made every night a party.”

           He was right. Even just passing through, bars like the one you worked at were Dean’s favorite—no frills, honest people, décor not so nice it couldn’t tolerate some spills in the name of a good time. In the right mood Dean would’ve been everyone’s best friend in an hour, taking shots with the owners and playing pool with anyone who had a spare minute.

           You sat upright and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay, then tonight’ll be a party.”

           Sam looked at you in surprise. “Uh, what?”

           “You heard me. Tonight, we’re doing tequila shots and dancing on tables and talking to people longer than to take their orders.”

           “It’s a Monday.”

           “Wouldn’t have stopped Dean. Now come eat this sandwich I slaved over, you’re a lightweight on an empty stomach.”

           Sam’s smile was tired, but he obediently untangled his legs and got off the bed to head to the kitchen. You padded after him, letting a deep breath out through your nose. Dean would be so pissed if he saw you weren’t being strong for Sammy, just a little tougher, come on. By the time Sam sat down at the tiny breakfast bar to eat, you’d screwed your face back together.

           In some ways, it was better that you’d had this sudden change of heart on a Monday, when there weren’t so many customers to watch you crumble if it came to that. You had a propensity for being a sad drunk even in the best circumstances, and this first time truly drinking around people since losing Dean was about the worst circumstance as you could imagine.

           A few shots in Sam’s cheeks were flushed and you could feel the heat in yours as you sucked hard on a lime wedge. He was pretending to know about some football controversy with the over-shoulder towel that was ever present when he worked, his legs crossed and accentuating the long, relaxed line of his body. It was an especially cold night and condensation clouded the windows of the bar where hot air met the freezing glass. You watched as a woman about your age—you were pretty sure her name was Megan but had only served her a handful of times—traced lazy shapes in it before replacing the moisture with a hot breath and starting over. It was almost hypnotic and you didn’t know how long it was until you snapped back to reality when Sam’s warm hands wrapped over your shoulders.

           “You okay?” he asked, low and private, straight into your ear.

           “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you lied.

           Sam gently and half-consciously kneaded the muscles in your shoulders. Before you realized what you were doing, muscle memory bobbed your head to the side, kissed his rough knuckles, and pressed your cheek to his hand. You both froze.

           “Aw, so cute,” Steve sang out from across the bar top.

           You took your chance to step forward out of Sam’s grip. “Yeah, yeah. Refill?” Steve nodded, and you snatched another Miller High Life out of a mini fridge under the bar and popped the cap with a fluid practiced motion. About a week ago you’d realized that the twist-bottle callus you had just below the first joint of your index finger had come back, a recurrent souvenir that had lasted years after you’d quit bartending last time. You were thankful for it as much as the distraction from your bizarre reflexive step over the unspoken boundary between you and Sam. It wasn’t that the contact was unprecedented, obviously, you could only catch even chunks of sleep tightly wound around Sam and kept your fingers wrapped around his forearm as he drove, but Dean was the last person whose skin your lips had touched. Until now, you corrected yourself. It was a very specific kind of closeness in a relationship already stretching the limits of what appropriate intimacy could possibly be.

           You jammed a cold metal scoop into the ice machine to break up chunks and buy some time. The same grief-hungry part of your brain that searched Sam for facial tics and habits that Dean had couldn’t stop repeating how much those hands felt the same, dry and warm and firm under your lips, under your cheek, and you wanted to clutch at them, a phantom of Dean’s that first stitched you up in Bobby’s kitchen all those years ago when life was easy and bloody, so nervous to touch you his hands shook and the scar still remained to this day. You crashed through those thoughts with a solid thump of This Is Sam Not Dean Sam Your Friend Sam The Only Thing You Have In This World, and how cruel it was to triple distill him down to only the parts that were reminiscent of someone else. Sam, who chopped wood to keep you warm, who restocked beer in the little life you’d created here. Sam, who in his own unfathomable sadness let you latch onto him as a steady point in a storm and kept you afloat just as you had him.

           “Hello?” Joe repeated, a touch of concern peeking through his annoyance.

           “Yeah, sorry! What’s up?” you asked, hearing the shrillness of your voice as you tried to overcompensate.

           “I’m trying to buy you a drink, hon. 5 shots, dealer’s choice.”

           “You, me, Jake, Steve and who?” you asked, racking up 5 sturdy shot glasses.

           “Your Paul Bunyan over there, unless you’re trying to take his too. I’ve never seen you guys really drink before, gotta jump on my chance,” he winked.

           “Oh, okay. Uh, Sam—” you called out across the bar. He was wiping up a spill you knew didn’t exist from the way he focused too hard on the bar top, trying to look busy. He looked up at his name and walked over with his hands jammed in his pockets. His unease was palpable, and your heart sank as you let go of any possibility that he wouldn’t have registered the fleeting kiss and the shift was only in your head. “—Joe’s trying to get you drunk.”

           “Careful, Joe, you think you can carry me home?” Sam joked, and you thought you would be the only one who’d be able to detect the tightness in his throat underneath it. He rubbed a lime wedge on the web of his thumb and poured salt over it before handing you the shaker. You almost dropped it when your fingertips grazed his.

           “To the only people dumb enough to move up here in the winter,” Steve proclaimed, touching his glass to the counter before shooting it. You all followed suit, politely chuckling at the teasing. When you took the lime wedge out of your mouth, Sam had his palm open in front of you. You dropped the rind in his hand and let him take the stack of glasses to the sink.

           It didn’t get as crazy as Dean likely would’ve gotten which was probably good for the bar’s bottom line and your drive back to the cabin, but Sam did end up somewhat accidentally hustling Jake for $100 over a game of pool and singing along to Shania Twain when you put it on. You were careful not to touch him or stare too long the rest of the evening, and by the time you were flipping chairs up for the night you had almost convinced yourself that nothing was different save for a little softness around the edges of the ever-present bolus of sadness in your stomach.

           Sam had two cases of Miller Lite from the basement in his grip, the veins on his forearms popping out as he set them on the ground in front of the beer cooler and crouched to replace the ones that had been drunk that night. You double checked that the cash drawer of the register was even and hopped up to sit on a spare spot of counter.

           “That’s the last one?”

           “Yeah, I already did the Coors and Bud.”

           “Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” You wiggled your toes in your shoes, feeling the ache of standing for hours in the balls of your feet.

           “No, I’m good to drive,” Sam said, shaking hair out of his face. He looked up at you, hazel eyes hard to read with fatigue or fear or pity or some murky combination thereof. You drew tight spirals over orders you’d taken that night, feeling the pen press impressions into the small notepad. The absence of words spread out to close the distance between you, feeling cloying and claustrophobic even as the Nate Bargatze standup you’d cued up piped out through the bar’s speakers.

           “Hey, I—”

           “Are you—” Sam started at the same time. You held out a palm to signal for him to continue, not truly wanting to speak yourself. “Uh, sorry. I just…I—I’m not Dean. I can’t be Dean.”

           The words and deflation in his shoulders made you wish you’d been set ablaze. Stunned, you felt your mouth open and close around words that weren’t materializing, just collecting in your throat and hardening there, the backup starting to choke you.

           “I, uh—I know,” you finally managed to squeak past the lump.

           And part of you wondered if he was right in thinking you were using him as a stand-in. As atypical as the whole situation was, you couldn’t imagine that it was normal to sleep in the same bed and spend virtually every minute together. You began to feel sick at the thought that Sam would be out living up to his potential somewhere if it weren’t for you, back to law school or righting the wrongs of the world rather than in a Northwoods dive bar restocking domestic beers at 2:30 on a Tuesday morning. The selflessness of it seemed unfathomable and yet so entirely something Sam would do. Suddenly it felt like the walls were collapsing around you.

           The moment stretched out and Sam stood up, leaning on the counter across the bar from you. His jaw was set hard and he tilted his head the way he did when he was trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge of tears. “Sam, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

           He cleared his throat but looked down at the nonstick mats on the floor. “No, ah, you don’t need to apologize. I just need you to know I can’t be him for you.”

           You didn’t dare look up in case you met Sam’s eyes as you nodded, so eviscerated and humiliated you were having a hard time taking a deep breath. After a long minute you heard the clink of bottles as Sam finished restocking, grabbed your coat to mumble something about warming up the car, and went to the small parking lot. You managed to make it into the Impala before your vision started swimming and the potential enormity of the situation crashed against you; was this the end of your carved out hideaway, full of grief and memories and comfort and little moments of affection and joy you had just barely started to accept? All for some stupid thought that Dean would be happier if you were out getting wasted, an idea that reduced him to a drifter barfly instead of the complex man who’d been more loyal and loved more deeply than anyone you’d ever met. The tears dried up quickly as self-disgust rolled over you and started ringing in your ears. You didn’t hear Sam coming and jolted when he opened the door, recoiling against the passenger side to give him as much space as possible. He glanced over at you with eyes so pitying that you couldn’t bear to look at them, staring out the window at the abject darkness the rest of the drive home.

           Sam didn’t turn on the stereo.

           Back in the cabin, you quickly shucked off your coat and snatched what you needed out of the bedroom before barricading yourself in for a shower. You didn’t bother taking your makeup off first, allowing the sting of mascara to get washed away in the water. It was too hot and you didn’t care; you only came out when you realized you were going to leave Sam in a cold shower in the last week in December.

           You brushed your teeth in the mirror and took a few deep breaths before sliding out, heading past the open bedroom door straight to the kitchen in order to gulp down a panicked glass of water. Mercifully, you heard the bathroom door lock when Sam entered it quietly. You took the opportunity to grab your pillow out of the bedroom, tossing it on the couch and pulling the throw off the sofa’s back to cover yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and ramming up against your racing mind when Sam came out.

           “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he said softly from behind you.

           You opened your eyes but didn’t move your head to seek him out. “It’s okay.”

           Sam appeared in front of you, legs bending severely to perch on the short coffee table. His bare chest still glistened a little from the shower and you knew the green flannel pants he was wearing were soft and thick to the touch. Earnest hazel eyes meeting yours, Sam braced his elbows on his knees.

           “Sam, I’m really sorry. It was a weird reflex and it was unfair for me to—”

           “No, I, it—it wasn’t that. It’s just like, sometimes when you look at me, you look like you’re seeing a ghost. I’m just—I need to know you’re not staying here because I’m the closest you can get.”

           If your heart hadn’t been shattered and re-shattered over the last almost- two-years and today, the fear and resignation in his eyes would’ve sent you to pieces. You pushed up to sitting in order to give Sam the respect he deserved.

           “I can’t—I won’t lie and say you don’t remind me of him, but you’re my best friend—been my best friend since I first met you guys—and I am so, so, sorry I made you feel…I could never try to replace him, Sam.” You were barely making sense, having a hard time stringing together how you felt. “The only place I want to be is with you. You’re all I’ve got.”

           It felt desperate and needy but it was true and Sam deserved the truth. You didn’t shy away from him, stayed there holding his gaze until he seemed content having searched your eyes for anything hiding from the light. After a moment he nodded tightly against lips pressed in a firm line. “Okay.”

           Sam stood up, the broad planes of him catching the glitter of the Christmas tree lights. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tentative. “Can you, uh, can you come back?”

           It took a moment to process before you nodded, standing up and snagging your pillow before following Sam into the bedroom. You climbed into your side of the mattress, close to the wall and your tiny precious gallery, and Sam folded around you, his warm skin seeping through your t-shirt onto your back. You felt tense and comfortable all at once, safe and uneasy. The two of you sat there for a long time, the relatively light weight of Sam’s arm over you betraying that he wasn’t asleep either. When drowsiness finally began to tug your eyelids closed, he pressed his lips to a spot on your shoulder exposed from the looseness of its sleeve. The last thing you remembered was his arm going heavy like an anchor across yours.

           The sun is hot and delicious on your cheeks, baking the cotton of your jeans and t-shirt into you and turning the roof tiles under you into a frying pan. Wispy clouds move with no urgency across the sky above you and you can’t think of anything better than this, glancing down to worn laces on Dean’s boots undone to give his feet some air as his t-shirt clings half-humid to him. You know his freckles are going to be darker by dinner and it makes you smile to think about it but you’ll never tell him—it makes him shy to be reminded of the spray of pigment that makes him feel alternatively feminine or juvenile but never stunning the way you think it should. You press up to your elbows, barely registering the sting of heat and grit of the roof underneath you and kiss the spot on Dean’s arm where his shoulder slopes into his bicep. He smiles down at you, a lazy half-open smirk perfectly framed by the blue sky behind him like a painting.

           “You’re so weird,” he chuckles. “Who kisses someone’s arm?”

           “Then come down here,” you toss back, exaggerated pout ready for him. He ducks down to you, the warmth of his lips on yours like a cookie fresh out of the oven, like sliding down the hallway on new fuzzy socks, like the summer’s first plunge into water.

           Sam’s head peeks out from under the gutter. “Bobby’s putting brats on the grill, do you want any?”

           “Hell yeah, extra onions,” Dean yells down, grinning smugly when you make a face.

           “Me too!” you call out, watching Sam squint up at the roof. 

           “No onions though, right?”

           “You’re the best, Sam.”

           Sam beams up at you, dimples almost high enough to reach the squint-crinkled skin around his eyes. He nods and ducks back out of sight.

           “Come on, I’m thirsty,” Dean says, standing up. He reaches a hand down to you and takes a half step back to brace himself, stepping on the lace of his other boot. He stumbles and it’s a quick shuffle and you realize he’s too close to the edge his next step is into thin air like Wil E. Coyote and you’re grabbing at that same thin air and you can see his face change when he realizes and some part of your subconscious that’s even deeper than this can feel it’s happening again and the sound is so final, such a wet crack but you scrabble to the edge anyway because you have to see and Dean’s lying there.

           He’s clutching his left leg bent against his chest like a stretch. “Son of a bitch, what the fuck!” he mutter-yells, and you hear the thump of Sam and Bobby running through the old house and skittering to a stop in front of him as you carefully shimmy down the porch post with your hands tearing on the gutter’s rusty edge, jumping down when you feel the railing beneath you.

           “Dean! Are you okay?” Sam yells over Bobby who’s cursing out the goddamn idjit told you not to climb up there it’s like having a bunch of teenagers in this goddamned house and Dean winces and nods angrily.

           You’re lifting up the hem of his jeans and gingerly taking off his boot and Dean hisses when you peel off his sock, but nothing is poking through the skin and that’s better than you expected. “Can you stand up?”

           He nods again and you can practically taste him biting back the string of expletives when you and Sam each take an arm and lift him to standing. You snake a hand into his pocket and grab the keys to the Impala, leaning behind Dean to say to his brother, “I’ll take him to the ER.”

           Dean doesn’t argue and it’s yet more evidence that it’s pretty bad, but you feel fine, elated almost, that he’s still warm under your palm and against your side, that he still smells like fresh laundry and domestic beer and a little bit of salt and engine grease. Sam’s long arm opens the door when you get there and slides Dean in and you promise to text when you know how bad it is as you round the car and get to the driver’s side. You turn the key in the ignition and throw your arm around Dean’s seat to reverse out of the driveway. Dean’s looking at you as you throw the car back into drive, staring almost, and his face is soft even around the broken ankle.

           “I’m always going to love you,” he says, smooth and sure of himself. You tug your eyes away from the road with half a question on your face but Dean doesn’t explain why he’s saying this now. “I’ll be okay and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.”

           It doesn’t make any sense and you open your mouth to tease this unexpected sappiness, remind him the ankle is just one more in a long string of injuries he’ll owe you for, and then Dean’s gone, the car’s gone, and the heat is coming from Sam’s chest in front of you. 

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 5

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[extraordinarilyfadedmemories]

Shenanigans

Cordelia x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol and Cannabis consumption (if you consider that a warning)

Let me know what you think 💕 For real feedback is appreciated!

Tag List: @scarlspookyszn​

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It was almost 10 PM on a Friday night at Miss Robichauxs Academy and that meant that the work could end and the fun would begin. Madison was off getting some type of liquor and Mallory was picking out a movie.  You were sitting on the couch with Coco, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when you heard Misty singing her way through the corridor to some Fleetwood Mac song. “Funny or scary?” Mallory asked while scrolling through the movies on the TV. Misty spoke up right away, “Funny!  The last scary movie y’all picked kept me up for weeks!”  Mallory just chuckled and replied, “Funny it is.”  As Misty settled into her chair, Zoe walked up behind the couch and handed you and Coco some chips before speaking, “Has anyone seen Cordelia?  The greenhouse was empty.” After dinner, Cordelia had disappeared, which wasn’t unlike her.  She didn’t like participating in our “weekend shenanigans” as she liked to call it. She would usually lock herself in the greenhouse to focus on her work, even after we all stumbled to bed.  “The bedroom door was cracked and her light was on when I was coming down.  Maybe she’s calling it an early night.” Misty said shrugging as Zoe nodded and started back toward the kitchen. The next few minutes were filled with mindless chatter and laughing while we decided on a movie.  Hearing the sound of the front door opening let us know that Madison was back, but the sound of giggling indicated that someone else was with her.

You stood up and turned around to see who it was before you heard that sweet familiar voice. It was Cordelia. You followed them into the kitchen with the other girls close behind. “Well this is a sight to see.” Coco was the first to speak up. “Yeah. I never would’a thought you’d be hanging around with Madison now, Ms. Cordelia.” Misty chimed in. Cordelia just chuckled as she slurred, “It’s been a long week and I figured I would join in on your shenanigans, but Madison just insisted that we get some shots at the bar across from the corner store.” Madison couldn’t hold back her laughter, “She talked such a good game that the bartender gave us free shots! Poor thing tried so hard to get Cordy’s number.” The girls were all laughing, but something about that made you burn up inside.  The thought of some sleezy bartender hitting on Cordelia made you uneasy. She wasn’t yours to claim, but you had feelings for her, and it hurt to think that one day someone could come and sweep her off her feet. An elbow to your side pulled you out of your thoughts as you looked over to see Coco staring at you. “You okay, Y/N?” she whispered, low enough so that no one could here over the multiple conversations going on.  “Yes of course.” you replied, putting on a smile and trying to catch up on what was going on. Madison has 7 shots of Tequila lined up on the counter, one for each of us. “Alright bitches.” Madison said as she motioned for everyone to grab a shot. “Since our dear Supreme has decided to join us tonight, I say we dedicate this first shot to the stick that finally came out of her ass.”  She continued while holding her shot glass in the air, earning her a playful punch in the arm from a rather tipsy Cordelia. Coco was the next to follow Madison, “Well. To Ms Supreme!” she yelled, causing us all to yell and follow suit. As you swallowed back the burning liquid, you couldn’t help but gaze over at Cordelia doing the same.  The way her blonde hair was flowing freely around her face, and her eyes held a hint of joy, instead of their usual emptiness.  She looked happy, and seeing her happy made you happy. As the girls made their way to the living room, Coco grabbed your arm and pulled you in the opposite direction. "What are you doing?" you asked. Coco just smirked and reached into her pocket, pulling out a joint and a lighter as she continued to the back door. "Oh." was all you could say as you followed right behind her.

"I didn't plan on Delia being up, but I've been holding on to this for a few days now, and I want to smoke it." Coco said as she lit one end of the joint. "You know I'm not complaining." you said taking the joint from her hand to take a few hits before handing it back. "So what happened in the kitchen?  Everything okay?"  You enjoyed having Coco around.  She understood you more than any of the other girls, and she knew that you had a little crush on your Supreme. "It was nothing, honestly." Coco went to say something, but the sound of loud music turning on inside startled the both of you. You rolled your eyes and handed the joint back, as you opened the door and went back in to see what was going on.  As you approach the living room, you see that the movie has been completely ignored and the girls were dancing, apart from Cordelia, who was fixated on Madison doing a body shot off of Mallory with rosy cheeks. Zoe looked over at you and motioned for you to join her and Misty. Coco walked right past you and starting dancing to the electronic beat playing over the speaker. You followed behind wondering what alternate universe you had walked into. Madison, who was pouring shots, made her way over to you, Coco, and Zoe. "You can do two shots right now, or do a body shot.  It's not a party without body shots!" Zoe held up two fingers, and you were about to do the same when Cordelia walked up. "I am having so much fun! I want to try this 'body shot' I have never done one before." she said forming air quotes around the words. Madison smirked as she spoke, "Alright well partner up, bitches. We're doing body shots!"

Of course Coco immediately turned to Zoe, while Madison poured Zoe a shot.  Zoe smiled nervously when she finished her second shot, then she tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. Coco sprinkled some salt on Zoe's exposed skin and grabbed a lime from the coffee table as Madison handed her the shot glass. She licked the salt, then threw back the shot, and sucked on the lime.  They both laughed as they turned towards you and Cordelia. A blush rose on your cheeks as Madison handed you the shot glass. You could feel your heart beating fast, and you were sure your knees were going to give out at any second. You looked up and brown eyes met yours as Cordelia smiled. "Are you sure about this, Delia?" you asked, making sure that she was comfortable with what was about to happen. "Yes! Come on Y/N, let's have a little fun." She replied as she tilted her head. All the girls cheered and began chanting "shot!  shot!", so you put a little salt on the crook of Cordelia's neck as Coco handed you a lime. "Have fun." she whispered with a smirk.  That dirty little bitch knew exactly was she did. You could feel the high setting in as the alcohol began to take over your thoughts. The closer you got to your Supreme, the more light-headed you became. Better go ahead and get it over with, you thought, as you brought your tongue to the thin line of salt on Cordelia's skin. Without hesitation, you closed your lips around her pale skin and sucked lightly, not being able to control your body for a moment. You could've swore you heard a soft moan, but everything was spinning and your thoughts weren't too clear. Your cheeks grew red as you took your shot and sucked the lime, trying hard to avoid everyone in front of you. Madison quickly took a shot before pouring another and handing it to Cordelia, who took it rather quickly. "Okay, so I lick the salt, then take the shot, then the lime." Cordelia said to herself, but quickly laughed it off as she continued. I tilted my head and waited as she grabbed some salt. You made the mistake of looking into her eyes, and you know you saw a look of hunger, causing your insides to burn with excitement. She smirked at you as she quickly brought her lips to your skin and mimicked exactly what you did, sucking on my exposed flesh, and this time you know for sure you heard her moan. "Get a room you two!" Madison yelled, which caused your cheeks to heat up again. Cordelia laughed as she took her shot, then wrapped her lips around the lime, making direct eye contact with you as she began to suck at it. You looked away and turned to Coco who was dancing with Mallory, Misty, and Zoe. She reached her hand out to you, and pulled you closer to them as you all began dancing while your thoughts completely drifted away.

Four hours and three and half empty bottles of Tequila later, and all of you were telling stories and laughing together drunkingly. Misty and Coco were the first to excuse themselves, and Mallory wasn't too far behind. "Well I guess I'm going to call it a night, too. I'm gonna feel like shit in the morning." You all laughed seeing the well mannered supreme cuss in front of you. Cordelia went to stand from the couch and fell back down. "Fuck, I don't think I can make it to my room."  Cordelia sighed causing everyone, even herself, to laugh even more. I stood up with Zoe and we offered out arms to help steady the supreme, which she happily accepted. "Thank you so much girls, I had a wonderful time and I really needed this." Cordelia said as you helped guide her to her room. When we got to the door in front of her room, Cordelia let go of Zoe's arm and turned to you. "Will you please stay with me? I really don't want to sleep alone tonight, Y/N." You shot a glance at Zoe who was already walking away from you two. "Delia you're drunk. I don't think that is the best idea." Dragging you with her, Cordelia stumbled into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. "Come on, Y/N. You practically gave me a hickey in the living room earlier. Stay with me, please. We can talk in the morning, but please just come lay next to me." She had climbed in bed, and was waiting for you to do or say anything. Without a word, you climbed into the bed, and positioned yourself so you both were laying face to face. "It was a pleasure to do my first body shot with you." She said while smiling, breaking the awkward silence that was lingering in the room. She had a soft look in her eyes, her usual dark eyes shining a soft brown with the reflection of the dim light on the night table. You wanted to lean forward and connect your lips with hers, and feel her soft skin pressed up against yours, but, instead, you just chuckled, turned over, and mumbled a "Goodnight, Delia."  She moved closer to you and wrapped her arms around your stomach, making herself the big spoon as she brought her lips close to your ear. "Goodnight my sweet Y/N. I love you."  The butterflies in your stomach kicked into overdrive and you felt like your heart was going to explode. You were both going to feel like complete hell in the morning.

[sparring-hyena]

can we try again?

@alexroyard asked if this story had a part two. i’m in a writing mood, so i guess it does now.

OR, the one where Becca knows that she’s accidentally fallen in love, hates that she’s fallen in love (except not really), and is a little bit self-destructive.

-

-

they bump into each other at a party a few days into the new quarter. it’s brief, barely a moment, and naturally, it’s a complete disaster.

they find each other in the empty hall just outside Alex’s suite. there’s music beating just inside, but there’s something quiet that settles when their eyes lock—something quiet and calm and only for the two of them.

they move closer together. as if pulled by some unknowable force. Becca wonders if Alex can feel it too.

Alex says, “hey,” when they’re only a foot apart.

and Becca itches to say something. ask one of the questions that have been burning in her mind for weeks. but all she does in yank Alex in for a kiss that’s slow and soft and so damn easy to get lost in.

their tongues move together so effortlessly and easily, it’s as if this is what they were always meant to do. Becca lets herself fall into it, lets her grip on Alex’s jacket loosen, and her fingers sink into Alex’s hair.

Becca tells herself that she’s trying to prove something to herself. that she’s not in love with Alex; could never be in love with Alex. her brain laughs and says, you know that’s not true.

then Becca feels Alex’s arms settle around her waist and that’s when she pushes her away. because suddenly it’s real.

she says, “fuck you,” and doesn’t add anything else. doesn’t dare ask why didn’t you call? why did you leave? why why why?

Alex looks confused and tries to apologise. but Becca doesn’t bother sticking around. she feels tears in her eyes but doesn’t dare stop running until she’s outside and can finally breathe.

-

the next time Becca sees Alex, it’s at the auditions for James’ play. she can only see the back of her, but Becca knows it’s her. and she thinks of leaving before Alex has a chance to see her.

leaving would be the safer option. the easier option. but running isn’t something she does. it’s Alex who makes her run. who makes her feel giddy and happy and ignites something warm and intense inside her. and— what was the point of this again?

whatever. but she’ll be damned if she runs because of Alex again.

Alex turns around and sees her standing near the stage. she offers a hesitant smile and wave. the gesture warms Becca. but she still marches up to Alex and says something nasty. she just can’t stop herself. and then she walks away. tries to hold her head high even though she feels like shit inside.

Becca watches from the side as Alex and Chris talk and laugh in hushed whispers as they practice their lines. she feels something green flare up in the pit of her stomach. she almost marches right over to the pair, but then some guy walks in and he looks vaguely interesting so Becca goes and introduces herself.

Sebastian, she learns. he comes from money and seems to take pleasure in undermining Alex and her ragtag group of friends. and maybe that irritates Becca a bit. but she sees the way Alex’s gaze stays on her when she brushes her hand against Sebastian’s arm. and maybe that ignites a quiet thrill inside her.

-

the opening night of the play arrives. and when Kaitlyn and Alex kiss on stage, Becca silently wishes that she was on stage with Alex.

-

there’s a cast party later and Becca tosses with the idea of not going at all. but, naturally, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in Alex’s kitchen making a drink as a party rages on around her.

she flirts with Sebastian. tries to tell herself that this can work. even as she knows that it won’t.

her brain seems to take pity on her and leaves her alone for a while.

she moves up to the rooftop terrace later in the night. it’s empty—a small blessing due to the cold—and Becca wraps her coat tighter around her body as she leans against the railing.

“i was hoping to find you up here,” a voice says a few minutes later.

Becca glances over her shoulder and finds Alex leaning against the closed door with her hands buried deep in her pockets. Alex offers one of her easy smiles as she steps up to the railing beside Becca.

“enjoying the party?” Alex asks.

Becca hums and fiddles with her fingers. Alex then reaches out and cups Becca’s hands in her own. everything goes quiet in an instant and Becca stares at their hands clasped together and doesn’t feel the cold around them anymore.

she doesn’t dare look up and meet Alex’s gaze; she knows what she’ll see, and she’s almost certain she won’t be able to come back from that.

the door flies opens a short while later and Kaitlyn and Abbie stumble onto the terrace. and their quiet moment falls away like water down a drain. Becca slips away while Alex is talking to Kaitlyn, and she’s almost certain Abbie gives her an odd understanding smile. almost like she knows.

there’s not even anything to know, Becca thinks.

that’s not true, her brain sing-songs.

-

she hangs out with Sebastian a lot. makes a show of always touching his arm or shoulder or something like that when she sees Alex nearby. she knows and yet she doesn’t know at all why she does that.

her brain tells her to stop, that this isn’t a good idea. but Becca ignores it and focuses on the way Alex’s gaze burns into her.

-

they don’t see each other much for a while. just passing glances that simultaneously hurt and excite. but she always goes back to Sebastian.

she even helps him with collecting signatures for the student body president election. she sees Alex a few times then. says a few catty remarks that she doesn’t at all mean. and feels that pull, that desire, to be closer to Alex. she wonders, again, if Alex can feel it too.

her brain doesn’t give her answer for that one though. and Becca finds that she misses the sarcastic comments.

-

there’s the sixties themed party where they have a moment. Becca wonders if she can even call it a moment. because all she did was pull Alex aside and tell her something that might help Chris win the election.

so it was nothing. more of a favour really. but then when Alex returns with the damaging information about Sebastian, she slides up to Becca’s side and whispers “thank you,” and then links their pinkies together.

maybe it was a moment then. because it matters. it means something. right?

when Becca watches Alex laughing and dancing across the room later in the night, she wonders if Alex would ever help her like she just did with Chris.

-

she breaks up with Sebastian.

her brain says fucking finally! i’ve been waiting for weeks.

but Becca just feels empty and doesn’t have any energy left to bite back.

-

and then, finally, there’s the dance at the end of the quarter on the boat. Becca goes solo again and tries to fly under the radar. she spots Alex walk in a little while later with all her friends.

she feels that ache return. although now she’s almost certain she knows what the ache is for.

Alex offers a smile and a wave, and Becca’s cheeks warm barely-so as she returns the gesture in kind.

it’s later in the night when they find each other on some quiet part of the deck. the wind is cold against their skin, so they stand close together. maybe closer than what they should.

and there’s something simmering between them—hasn’t there always been? it bubbles and hisses and Becca wonders how much longer they’ll be able to last. 

she’s not sure who breaks first, who bubbles over with want and desire. because suddenly they’re kissing and groping and moaning. and it’s somehow wonderful and terrible and feels like electricity is zapping across her veins.

it hurts and it heals and Becca needs more. there’s a bathroom nearby, barely big enough for the both of them, but they stumble inside and make it work.

Becca lets Alex press her up against the wall and hike her dress up around her waist as her hands wander and explore. she pulls at Alex’s hair and swallows the groan that falls from her mouth. and suddenly she feels everything.

it’s like she’s been hit with a freight train. there’s the heat and the desire, and the pain of not knowing and the pain of hoping and needing. she doesn’t even realise that she’s crying until Alex’s stops what she’s doing.

“i’m fine,” she says, trying to pull Alex in again to kiss away all the pain.

“hey, you can talk to me,” Alex says, and Becca knows that’s a fact. “was it something i did? do you want me to leave or—”

“no!” Becca holds on tight to Alex’s shoulders. “don’t leave. not again.”

“okay.” Alex stays and then pulls Becca in for a hug. she holds her for a long time—long enough to mean something. and only pulls away when Becca is ready.

“sorry,” Becca says.

“what for?” Alex asks, brows knitting together in confusion.

“a lot of things. mostly for being cruel.”

“you weren’t cruel. a little rude maybe. but definitely not cruel.”

Becca smiles. “you’re too good.”

Alex shrugs and grins a little sheepishly.

“no but you are.” Becca stresses the words. wants Alex to know that she means them. “things between us got messy—maybe they always were—and my head was just so... busy, so i had a lot of misdirected anger towards you. i’m sorry.”

“i know you are.” Alex rests their foreheads together, and Becca wonders if they can ever get better. “you look gorgeous, by the way.”

“you too.”

“do you wanna dance?”

“in here?” she gestures vaguely to the tight bathroom they’re currently in.

“outside. we can go somewhere quiet so no one will see. but we didn’t get to dance together at the last dance, so i thought it might be nice.”

Becca feels a warmth bloom in her chest and spread out from there. she fixes her dress and hair in the mirror, and so does Alex, before they slip out of the bathroom and find a quiet part of the boat where they can still hear the low hum of music.

they share one song together. and Becca really hopes that this isn’t the end. that they can try again.

they head back to the party, their hands slipping apart when they can hear the voices of their classmates getting closer.

Alex returns to her friends. and Becca doesn’t feel that ache anymore. it’s been replaced by something different. something good. 

you know what that is, don’t you? her brain says.

she thinks that she does. but she’s not quite ready to say it yet.

her brains says, that’s fine. whenever you’re ready.

and Becca wonders when her brain became so understanding. but it doesn’t matter—not really anyway. because she’s found something good. something worth trying for. so who really cares about all the other little details?