#also fun fact :) everyone in this piece is wearing or holding something golden

[dandylyn]

My piece for the @legacies-entwined zine! Showing the moment after Barriss has received her tattoos - I felt as though this would've been a big ceremonious occasion, so I like to imagine she and Luminara returned to Mirial to be surrounded by their birth culture and other Mirialans. I also like to imagine that it was Luminara who gave Barriss her tattoos. :)

If you missed your chance to grab this beautiful zine, the leftover sale will be going live Feb. 22! More info here

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

[nxrthmizu]

Second Place ; Miya Osamu.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | miya osamu x fem!reader

w.c | 2.2k

genre | fluff

warning(s) | slightly suggestive, implied sexual content

author's note | i've been wanting to write this for a while! so here it is <3 it's not beta read and I didn't use a lot of metaphorical filling so it's not that poetic but eh Idc bc ✨ self indulgence ✨

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Once upon a time, Miya Osamu swore that he would never settle for second place again— He was never going to let another Miya score first place while he stood in the shadows. The twins had split paths after graduation, stepping onto stages where they'd never have to compete against each other for the spotlight again.

... Okay, who was he kidding. He'd be compared to Atsumu for his whole life— It wasn't like a different career would change that. Besides, his aunts were way too bored to not spin up something about him and his brother during family gatherings.

"Atsumu's making more money, isn't he?"

Well duh, he was a professional volleyball player, of course he made more money— Osamu wanted to roll his eyes in front of his aunts to make sure they understood that he heard their hushed whispers— But then again, he was an adult now, and he knew better than to stoop that low.

The comforting grip you had on his wrist also helped.

Things did get slightly better for him, though.

"Atsumu, your brother's already married," Osamu overheard his second aunt say to his twin during his wedding reception, "When are you going to settle down?"

The grey-haired Miya couldn't help but have a grin on his face for the entire night. Granted, the fact there was a silver ring on your finger also helped. You were absolutely radiant that night, and Osamu couldn't have been happier to finally be able to introduce you as his spouse.

Osamu's marriage did tilt more pressure towards his twin's way, because not more than half a year later, Atsumu caved in and found a sweet little thing to share his life with. The setter had had a couple flings here and there in his earlier years— But none of them ever lasted that long, and Atsumu had never introduced them to his brother, which is how Osamu knew that his twin really cared about the girl when the golden-haired man visited Onigiri Miya with her hanging on his arms.

If he didn't have the decency to help his brother maintain a good image, Osamu would've straight-up snorted at how tense his twin was when he served onigiri up onto their table, the shop empty with the exception of one table. It was almost like Atsumu was seeking Osamu's approval— Which was hilarious enough without the fact that the setter was nervous about it.

At the end of the night, it was as if the weight of the world was lifted off Atsumu's shoulders. Kaoru— The name of Osamu's potential sister-in-law— Got along wonderfully with you, who kept the shy-but-bright woman entertained as Osamu dragged his twin into the kitchen to make fun of him.

"Oh, go easy on him," You elbowed him lightly as the two of you closed up the shop for the night, wiping down the tables and tucking the chairs in. "Atsumu genuinely cares about her, he's making an effort!"

Osamu let out the snort he had held in for most of the evening. "I wouldn't be his brother if I didn't make fun of him."

"Boys." You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. You had been around to catch the tail-end of some of Atsumu's previous relationships, so you could tell that Kaoru was different; In a way, Atsumu looked at her the same way Osamu eyed a nice piece of mackerel in the grocery shop.

"I heard that! C'mere," Osamu grinned, tackling you from the back. A smile burst across his lips when a giggle erupted from your lips, a cloth rag smacking him in the face when you tried to wriggle away from his hold. "You aren't getting away, pumpkin. Save your energy for later."

He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, yelping when he was smacked with the rag again.

"There won't be a later if you keep that up." You warned, laughing when horror instantly swept over his expression. His protests echoed in your ears as you thought about how this marriage was something you'd never regret. Yes, it was rough because his business took off on a rocky road, but you knew there was no gain without pain, so you hung on and saw him through to the fruits of his labour.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The next family meeting was graced with the presence of Kaoru, who, in turn, had been graced with your advice.

"Dress decently, do not wear black," You had warned her the night before on the phone, grimacing at the memory of your first Miya family dinner. No one had aunts more judgemental than the Miya twins. "I would suggest going with a dress. Oh, and it might help to bring a gift. A bottle of Ginseng Wine might be a good idea."

"We're here," Osamu parked the car outside the family home, subconsciously wincing at the sight of his aunts' vehicles. "... Ah. They’re here."

"I see they turned up early," You grimaced, "Atsumu and Kaoru-chan are going to have a brilliant night."

"Yup." Your husband grinned slightly at that, earning a smack for smiling at his brother's suffering. "Oh, he'll be fine. We'll mention that when Atsumu really needs saving." The wink he sent your way made your stomach butterflies flutter, but the warm touch of his fingers on your hand made them settle. "We'll be fine," Osamu's eyes softened as he met yours, reassuring you. "You've got me, remember? Worst case scenario, we'll just high-tail out of there and say we need to work tomorrow."

"Right," You released a breath of relief, interlocking your fingers with his. "Ready?"

"To see Atsumu suffer?" Osamu quipped. "Hell yeah."

And suffer did Atsumu. Kaoru wasn’t spared (of course she wasn’t—) and was judged from head-to-toe by the Miya's critical aunts. From the way they were eyeing her, you'd think they were the judges of Miss Universe instead of potential aunt-in-laws. Despite that, Kaoru braved the storm and stood strong through the whole night, her resilience shining with her determination to be with the other Miya twin— Osamu nodded his approval at that.

After dinner, the family gathered in the living room, with the elderly seated on the cushioned couches while the twins were squashed together on a bean bag (that you had to convince them to share, because apparently they were adamant about pushing the other off of it). Kaoru and you managed to snag a small corner of a couch, stifling your laughter at the sour faces of your respective significant others.

"So, Kaoru-san," Four heads collectively flinched when the aunt opened her mouth, "What's your job? Yearly salary?"

"Um, I'm... I'm a newspaper editor," Kaoru fidgeted with the strap of her bag while you resisted the urge to snap at her to look as confident as she could if she didn't want the interrogation to go on for the rest of the night. A shy, nervous thing like her would only make the predator's lick their lips at the sight of easy prey.

"Oh! That makes sense," The woman sneered, Osamu's mother not-so-discreetly turning up the volume of the television in hopes that the conversation would be drowned out. "You definitely dress with the salary of an editor."

Offence flashed across Atsumu's face like lightning, but before he could start a fight to defend his girlfriend's honour, Osamu dragged his brother back onto the bean bag and stood up.

"Excuse me, everyone," Osamu put on his practiced customer-service smile flawlessly, capturing everyone's attention instantly. "Y/N and I have an announcement to make." His eyes met yours, and you nodded, a smile waltzing across your lips.

"Mother, father," You begin, addressing your in-laws like you addressed your own parents. Encouragement swirled in your blood as Osamu interlocked your hands and squeezed your fingers. "You're going to be grandparents."

It took a while for the news to kick in.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Osamu's mother cried out, rushing to envelop you in a hug that you gracefully accepted. "Do you know the gender yet?"

"Of course not, mother." Osamu rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We're not that far along yet."

"That's amazing! Congratulations!" Kaoru beamed brightly, not having picked up on Osamu's timely intervention.

"Thank you." You replied warmly.

"Well then, are you going to stop working?" The first aunt shot at you, smirking, coy as ever. She knew that you weren't the type to drop your job just because of an incoming child.

"Of course not." You replied easily, "What kind of spouse would I be if I couldn't help carry the financial burdens with my husband?"

She shut her trap instantly, huffing in fury. Osamu had never looked prouder.

The family rejoiced for a little longer, and from the tip of your ears, you heard Osamu gloating slightly about having reached another milestone earlier than his brother.

"I love you," Your husband murmured into the crook of your neck as the two of you cuddled in the warmth of your bed, too far for his aunts' sharp words to hurt you. "And our little boy in there.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

“... Father’s instinct.”

Months flew by in a blur, and so did doctor appointments, Sunday shopping trips with Kaoru as you left Atsumu to help Osamu in the restaurant. The pair would drive the half-an-hour trip from Osaka to Hyogo every weekend. This arrangement elicited a couple silly arguments between the twins, of course, but once you taught Kaoru the stern look that would make the two settle like guilty puppies with their tails between their legs— Those arguments became simple matters to handle.

“Have you thought of names yet?” Kaoru asked you while the two of you sipped on coffee.

“I have a couple in mind,” You smiled. “Osamu won’t stop going on about how he was right. The baby’s a boy.”

“Boys will be boys,” Kaoru rolled her eyes. Then, her expression changed to a wistful one. “This might sound odd, but… I just find myself thinking, sometimes… One day, I want what you and Osamu have.”

“... A happy marriage?” You raised an eyebrow, “Honey, you’re already on your way to one. Atsumu looks at you the same way ‘Samu looks at a bowl of gyudon. Or the way I look at a bucket of mint ice cream with peanut butter…”

Kaoru made a concerned look. “The baby sure craves some odd things.”

“You’ll experience this one day.” You returned pointedly. “Logically, I never would’ve thought of eating mint chocolate ice cream with peanut butter slathered on… But cravings are cravings. And it was surprisingly nice.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

After nine long months of waiting, Miya Tomohito was welcomed to the world. Osamu cried (Atsumu made fun of him for it before getting smacked by Kaoru— She was learning a lot from you). Both yours and Osamu’s parents wouldn’t stop gawking at your baby boy, with his little tuff of dark hair, his tightly-fisted hands and the slight cherry-red flush of his cheeks. You never thought you’d fall in love at first sight— But your son was living proof that you were wrong. From the first moment you held him in your arms, you had already given a piece of your heart for him to hold in his tiny little hands.

It quickly became a regular sight for frequent customers of Onigiri Miya to see Osamu walking around the shop, a sleeping baby boy strapped to his back. The two were inseparable. Once, you walked in on your husband having a full conversation with Tomohito, who was sucking on a spoon.

“I’m thinking of adding a twist to my tuna onigiri recipe,” Osamu said, as if he were talking to an adult and not a three-month old baby. “Do you think adding a squeeze of lemon juice will make it taste better?”

“Gwa.” Tomohito replied intelligently.

“Great suggestion, Tomo.”

“Mmm.”

“I see. We could go to the grocery store later to get some tuna and try that recipe tonight.”

“Ba.”

“You’re a genius, Tomo.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“I can’t believe you.” Osamu looked helpless. “You’re not… You’re not seriously doing this to me.”

“I’m completely serious.” You said firmly, having put your foot down with no room for argument.

“You’re really choosing him over me?” Your husband’s jaw dropped when you nodded solemnly. “I’m your husband!”

“And he’s my son.” You shot back instantly.

“You’re kicking me out of our bed for our son?”

“He’s sick!” You refuted. “I need him to be as close as possible to me. His fever hasn’t gone down completely yet and I can’t let him go back into his cot tonight. Besides, you might get sick if we all sleep in the same bed. Who’ll take care of the shop then?”

Osamu drooped visibly. He couldn’t believe what was happening— He had lost to a Miya once again— Now his son instead of his brother. “Fine.” He mumbled sadly. “Make your poor husband sleep on the couch.”

“It’s only for one night, ‘Samu.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomohito's name is written as 智仁. '智' means intelligence and '仁' means compassionate. I have a friend named Tomohito.

Also, when I was writing this I reminded myself to make sure I made the reader gender-neutral. That is, until I realised that I made the reader pregnant. I am an idiot.

haikyuu!! gen taglist: @haru-senji @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @animegirlweeb @cemeiia @haikyuushuffle

[diavolosthots]

I adore your work and I am so happy I caught you open request it's my first time! May I please request something with Diavolo handling his human exchange student being a kid who is like 6 who is convinced that Diavolo os their dad and clings to him crying when someone tries to take them away because they don't want to loose their dad scared of being alone again? 100000% platonic obvs. It just sounds cute and sad because Dia could probably relate to the poor kid and I'm a sucker for soft dia and found family stuff. As per your rules that I hope I'm getting right with mc being a kid being okay I want you to know this is not and oc just a basic sad little kid with family issues. Just don't want you to think it is when I swear ots not because of how detailed I felt I was giving. Sorry for rambling I really admire you and your skill and just am so nervous making a request.

Your rambling got cuter and cuter and I couldn't help myself from smiling. Yes this is okay and yes you've read the rules right :)

You're Not Not My Dad (DIAVOLO X GN!PLATONIC!CHILD!READER)

For a task he trusted the eldest with, he certainly didn’t think Lucifer would decide to let a literal child enter the Devildom. “Lord Diavolo, I swear I had no clue! On the paper it said 26, not 6!” Sure enough; a quick glance at the paper and it indeed said ‘age: 26’ and yet here they are, which a barely functioning human in a world they can’t even comprehend. “We can’t keep them here, under any circumstance.” Another quick glance at the child in front of him and then the pure fear they had in their eyes when they saw the rest of the demons in the room put Diavolo in a tough spot. “I will take them home immediately.” But the minute Lucifer tried to reach out for you, you jumped up and ran to Diavolo, clinging onto his pant leg and hiding behind him, “don’t let him take me, daddy!” Diavolo’s whole body stiffened at the name, “Daddy? I’m not your father.” But you would have none of it, still clinging to him and actually screaming out when Barbatos tried to pry you off. “It’s okay Barbatos, I’ll just take them.” He mainly said that because your screaming was unbearable but when he leaned down to pick you up so he could take you back, you had tears streaming down your cheeks and he hates admitting that it actually broke his heart, “why are you crying little one?” “Because the bad men want to take me away from you, daddy.” You snuggled into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, and for once in his own life, Diavolo wasn’t quite sure on what to do. 

That was a couple months ago. No matter how many times he tried to take you back home, you’d find a way to cling to him, kicking and screaming for him to not leave you too, so he decided to keep you, at least for a little while. He made sure to remind you every day that he was certainly not your father, but you never believed him so he gave up at some point and decided to just have a serious talk with you when you’re older and more willing to listen and comprehend. “Daddy!” Sadly, having you around also meant that he barely had time to get enough things done and Barbatos was constantly running after you and not getting things done, either. Speaking of Barbatos, he’s still salty about the time you decided to bite his tail and has made it a point to never be in his demon form around you. “My Lord, I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to keep (Y/N) occupied.”

In all honesty, Diavolo’s eye was twitching because this is the third meeting you decided to interrupt, not this week, but today alone. “(Y/N). Please listen to Barbatos.” You climbed up in his chair, sitting proudly and taking random papers from his desk, pretending to read them, “vetoed! Trashed! Wait… this one looks cool, it has a seal on it!” Diavolo snatched that one from you so fast, you could’ve thought it was just your imagination, “(Y/N), are you listening to me? I said you ha--!” “Daddy look, if you take two pens and hold it up, it looks like Barbatos has horns!” Barbatos was also getting mildly irritated but he was trying so hard to keep his calm. “(Y/N), why don’t you listen to Lord Diavolo? I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to play with you at the en--!” “Look Daddy, I’m wearing your coat!” You seemed so happy, so full of life and as much as it inconvenienced him right now, Diavolo couldn’t bring himself to get stern with you, and he didn’t have to. “(Y/N)! Listen to what people are telling you!” Because it was Barbatos who lost his cool, and apparently also his manners. 

The loud sound of his voice along with the fact that his smile dropped to a glare had the whole room silent. Even Lucifer who was part of the meeting, managed to stand at attention. No one remembers the last time Barbatos lost his patience and all of them wondered if he ever lost his patience before this, but that’s not the issue now. Your lip was quivering, tears threatening to spill over as small sobs escaped your mouth, “no…” Diavolo knew what would be next and he doesn’t have the heart or the time for it. “Ssh.. It’s okay, come here. Daddy’s got you.” He quickly picks you up, holding you against his chest and stroking through your hair lovingly, trying to keep you from screaming out. A crying you was a very loud you and he’s trying to save everyone’s ears from that spiel. “Barbatos, take Lucifer and leave, please.” The butler, as much as he wanted to just yank the kid back to human realm, could do nothing but nod, his usual smile returning to his face as he bowed, “of course, My Lord.” He waited until Lucifer went ahead of him, following suit and then closing the door behind him. 

Diavolo let out a long sigh, seating himself back in his chair and then propping you up in his lap. He pulled you back far enough to look at you, golden eyes soft while one of his hands continued to stroke through your hair, “he didn’t mean it, but he does have a point. You can’t keep interrupting me all the time, (Y/N).” You brought one of your hands up to wipe some of the tears before leaning back against him, burying your chest in his face, “b-but…. I just want to spend time with you, Daddy…” Another sigh escaped Diavolo as his mind raced to find solutions, turning left to right in his chair kind of in a rocking motion as he did so. “I know that, but I have things I need to get done before I can have fun time with you.” Diavolo rested his cheek against your head, staring at the paperwork on his desk and then at the sealed piece of paper that he took from you earlier.

“What if… when I don’t have a meeting, what if I set up a small desk for you right here, right beside mine, and we can work together, hm? How does that sound?” Your head immediately lifted off of his shoulder, a wide smile evident on your lips and Diavolo felt his heart settle with content at the sight, “yes! I want that, Daddy! And then you and I can rule together!” Diavolo laughed softly, shaking his head, “hm… we’ll see about that. You have to promise me you’ll listen to Barbatos though AND you have to leave when I have meetings, okay?” You nodded, holding up your tiny pinky, “pinky promise!” which Diavolo gladly wrapped around his before kissing it softly, turning you back around in his lap so you can watch him go through some paperwork. Part of him just hopes you’ll find this boring and leave, but a tiny, other part of him hopes you’ll stick around for a little while longer.

You may not be his child, but you’ve grown on him, and at this point, he’d do anything for you so as long as it didn’t put the Devildom in danger. He loves you, as if you were his own.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

 Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

[harfanfare]

Heart Competition 💕

It is the fifth pint of beer, and there is no sign that it is the last one.

Kaeya stares at the beer, its golden surface waves slightly. His hand is trembling as if the weight of the drink was too much for him. In the reflection of the glass vessel, he sees his face;  eyebrows furrowed by grief or anger – he hasn't figured it out yet – and corners of his mouth twitching, once up, to keep an impression of happy guest, once down, when his muscles refused to obey him.

Being out of control of his own body made him also incapable of flirting, the art he practised years in the bar, that some could assume that Kaeya did it mostly to get on Diluc's nerves.

Oh, right. Diluc Ragnvindr, the star of today's event.

Through a glass pint, half-filled with alcohol, Kaeya sees the distorted silhouettes of the bride and groom, in honor of which this whole party was held.

Loud, quite unexpectedly large for the groom's tastes, the event was a mixture of attempts to make the lady in the veil the happiest woman in the world, but with some balance. This party was also a sign that Diluc won't even consider future marriage offers, having such a sweet wife on his side.

[Name].

[Name] Ragnvindr, from today.

A girl who came to Mondstadt a few years ago and stole the attention of a Cavalry Captain at the first meeting.

At first, it was just another entertainment; he flirted with you, being so natural in this as if it was his personal dialect he used everyday. Well, it wasn't far from wrong. After few minutes the blush couldn't leave your cheeks, leaving your face painted with a rich strawberry scent. He teased you even more until you realised you are too engaged in conversation and cocked your head at the side, trying to hide a blush behind your hair.

And then something went wrong.

You've spent too much time together, and each moment made Kaeya fall in love with you. He didn't know, he doesn't know yet, but his heart started to be blind and slowly started heading towards you every time you smiled at him.

One day he noticed that his heart no longer belonged to him.

If he could turn back time, he would surely try not to fall in love with you. Or he would do everything not to let you meet his not-really-encouraging-to-spend-time-with-and-vice-versa sworn brother.

Really, he could give up taking you to the tavern when he knew that his red-haired relative was right there. At that point, he just felt the need to show you to everyone and wordlessly inform them "she is precious to me, and I will defend her with all my might."

Apparently, Diluc didn't notice the aura of his intentions because he was genuinely interested in a person who would stand up with his brother's quirks („These are secrets," Kaeya corrects every time someone points it out) and without a shadow of a doubt could talk about his disadvantages as advantages.

"You have quite an interesting way of looking at the world," Diluc admitted at one of your random meetings. They happened often; you two even started suspecting each other of tracking each other, but then accepted the fact that whenever any of you will be in a flower shop or going to the library, you will meet the other one on your way there.

"Or I'm pushy because I'm looking for the other bottom in everything," you said, smiling. Diluc also almost smiled in response. "You too, are completely different from Kaeya's descriptions.”

"And... what did he say about me?"

"I'm sorry, but if I told you, you probably would never sell him any alcohol again."

"There, who are you talking about, you two?" Kaeya appeared behind you.

He approached, behaving rather carelessly, though he felt like some invisible force was tightening on his throat. You two looked so good together that with every memory of your view, the needle of jealousy and desperation was sewing through his heart.

And what bothered him the most was the fact that Diluc seemed to like you very much.

Of course, he wanted you two to have a good relationship, but the fact that you spent a lot of time together was very, very, very difficult for him.

Kaeya takes another sip of beer, which this time seems extremely bitter on his tongue. He winces slightly but takes another swallow.

He must have delayed his love confession too much.

A day, no, a few hours would be enough, and everything could've been different. If it weren't for that one evening, when Kaeya decided that he must tell you about his feelings, he would definitely be better without your announcement that you would like him to help you figure out how to confess your love to Diluc.

The heart you've taken from him was broken into pieces. It being overwhelmingly delicate in your hands, was most likely destroyed inadvertently.

...And so, he helped you with your love confession.

After all, he lived with this guy for several years and knew more or less his preferences. Probably, even without his help, Diluc would have accepted your feelings without batting an eye. Kaeya spent a lot of his time watching redhead, and he could tell that these frequent glances towards yourself weren't only a coincidence.

"Only you seem alone in such a grand crowd," says Venti, who sat next to him. Like many other guests, he wears an elegant white shirt with frilly sleeves and black trousers. There is some blush on his cheeks, but even after drinking since the start of the wedding reception, he still manages to look serious.

They haven't talked very often, but as many times they sat together in the tavern and found good drinking companions in each other, they weren't as much of strangers as many could suppose.

"I am being happy for the bride and the groom from a distance," Kaeya replies with harshness in his voice that makes it sound like a growl.

Such a quick excuse could not deceive a poet as skilled in heartbreaking stories as Venti. "I know how losing someone hurts."

Kaeya doesn't ask what he meant. In his head one moment was still playing on repeat; the one when he took you to the altar. He really didn't feel anything, when he was leading you to the groom, who wasn't paying attention to anything but you.

The moment you let go of Kaeya's hand and walked the next steps in that white snow and princess-like gown was the most striking one. With every tap of your heels against the floor, the distance between you two was growing wider.

Kaeya looks at Venti, who rises from his seat and pats him on the shoulder before walking away. He could swear he saw him mouthing “good luck” before disappearing between guests.

It didn't take a minute before you appeared next to Kaeya with a beaming smile on your face.

"Are you having fun?" You ask, and he forces himself to send you a smile, even though for a moment the corners of his mouth trembled uncontrollably.

"Of course," he replies with an eagerness that he tries to raise in himself.

He starts to look for a topic that isn't going to betray his cloudy head. At least not now, when everyone should rejoice for the sake of a new relationship.

His gaze falls on a glass of white wine, which you held in your hands.

"Ah, right," you pick up his gaze. "Diluc chose these wine because he said you somehow recommend that one. He also said they are good for toast."

"Oh? Why don't we raise a toast [Name]?" Kaeya replies, pouring the wine into his glass. He turns to you, now stiffly holding crystal vessel uncomfortably between his fingers.

"What will we raise it for?"

Kaeya cocks his head lightly as if he's trying to come up with a good reason. His gaze wanders to your face, and then he swiftly looks away.

Of course, he knew what he should say in this situation and accept that fact, he wanted to do away with.

"Toast for," He raises a glass, you echo him. A few other guests start to lift their glasses as well. "The bride and her life alongside the man who won the heart competition."

[scxrlettwxtches]

of early morning pancakes and serendipity | kim seungmin

genre: just pure fluff

warnings: mentions of food (bacon and pancakes to be specific!)

prompt: wrapping arms around them when they make breakfast

description: worried about his safety, you may or may not have broken into your neighbor’s apartment and ended up cooking him breakfast. and your neighbor may or may not have fallen in love.

word count: ~2.0k

a/n: hi anon! i hope you like this little drabble i came up with! the wrapping arms around them while cooking is a fun prompt, and i tried to put a little twist to it. however, im not sure if it worked aksdhfkajhd >.< either way, hope you enjoy! and as always, love you all so very much and hope everyone is staying safe! <3

The first thing Seungmin picked up on as he groggily sat up in bed was the smell of bacon and pancakes wafting into his room. 

Which was a bit weird, since he lived alone. 

“What the…” he mumbled, shifting in bed as his books and papers slipped off his chest and onto the floor. Oh, he must’ve fallen asleep while working on his project. When was the last time he got more than three hours of shut eye? Maybe he was dreaming.

But the almost intoxicating scent of fresh made food was too strong, too alluring to be something conjured up from his caffeine filled brain. Groaning, he got out of bed, his hand smacking the table blindly in order to feel for his gold-rimmed glasses. 

Putting them on so he didn’t have to bruise himself crashing into drawers and cabinets again, he opened the door, only for his jaw to go slack as he stared upon a vaguely familiar figure standing in front of the stove.

“What are you doing here?” He sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at you. Gasping in surprise, you whirled around, eyes wide as the pancakes simmered behind you.

Seungmin couldn’t call you a friend. You were closer than an acquaintance, since the two of you crossed paths often. You were the next door neighbor, after all, and he was often made aware of your presence when he’d see you sitting out in the balcony, reading in the morning. Despite all the brief interactions, though, Seungmin never tried to get close or make any attempts to know you better.

There wasn't any particular reason, except maybe the fact that he was a little afraid of you. 

He knew the golden rule: don’t judge others by their appearances. He knew that rule very well, thank you very much! But how could he see you leaving your apartment every day, dressed all prim and proper with your black stiletto heels and pant-suit combination, and not be just a tad bit intimidated? Especially since you were so different from him, a struggling literature major whose style ranged from one hand-me-down sweater to the next.

But in this very moment, as he stared at you from across the living room, you didn’t look intimidating or authoritative in the least.

You were positively adorable, and Seungmin’s brain was reaching a crisis point.

Seungmin had never seen anyone be so engulfed by a Totoro onesie as you were. The grey fabric had practically swallowed you whole, especially since you also decided to keep the hood on, the little ears drooping at the top.

The two of you engaged in an accidental staring contest until you finally spoke up, startling him a bit.

“I wanted to make you breakfast.”

It was so simple yet so utterly preposterous at the same time that Seungmin was genuinely speechless for a long moment before he uttered a sophisticated response, “W-why? A-and that doesn’t explain how you’re in here.”

You huffed, your cheeks very clearly tinted with a darker color as you turned back around to face the stove, “You haven’t left your house in three days.”

“...Yes.”

As shameful as that was, Seungmin had to admit that it was true. He cautiously walked to the dining table, sitting down in one of the chairs as his eyes narrowed, “How did you know that?”

“The same way you knew I wasn’t following my schedule and deduced that I was most likely ill.”

Fuck, did he do that? In the crevices of his poor memory, he vaguely remembered getting a bit concerned that he had not seen you on the balcony at the normal sunset time, and also had not seen you leaving the house around the time he did. Because he was pretty sure you lived alone, he had put in an anonymous tip to your home, and he heard later that you’d fainted in the apartment from overwork.

“How did you know it was me?” Seungmin asked curiously. He barely even remembered the incident at all.

You flipped the pancakes with practiced ease, “Because you’re the only person I can deduce would care about me enough to put in an anonymous tip.”

Seungmin couldn’t help but feel a little sad about that. You really had no one else beside him? If that was true, he’d feel enormously guilty, as he and you had never spoken more than casual hi’s and goodbye’s and brief conversations in the apartment elevator. There was that one time he’d secretly tailed you back home to make sure you were safe, but he’d kept at least 20 feet of distance between the two of you, and you never knew about the incident ever.

(You actually did, but you just didn’t want to embarrass him.)

“Don’t feel bad, it’s just the truth,” you said simply, sliding the cooked pancakes onto a plate and turning off the stove.

“So, this is a thank you?” He mumbled sleepily, still not discrediting the idea that this was all just a fever dream. There was so much of it that didn’t make sense. You in the apartment, in his apartment, you cooking him breakfast, you wearing a giant Totoro onesie. It was just a lot to take in.

“Something like that,” you hummed, placing the plate and a fork onto the dining table before  heading back to the stove to check on the bacon, “I haven’t seen you in three days, so I just needed to make sure you hadn’t died.”

Seungmin’s lips curled into a wry smile. This was beginning to sound more like your normal personality. The dry remarks, the sarcastic words laced with care. The way you could exchange only three words with each other as you crossed paths, but the interaction would still be a highlight of his day.

“And how exactly did you get into my apartment?” He asked, cutting his pancake into smaller pieces as he stabbed at them absently. When was the last time he had pancakes that weren’t burnt to the point that he triggered smoke alarms? The ones you made were soft and fluffy, the closest to a perfect pancake he will eat in his lifetime.

“I climbed over to your balcony,” you answered nonchalantly as you flipped the bacon to cook both sides. 

Seungmin nodded in understanding, eating a piece of the pancake before he fully processed your words, and he choked in disbelief, “So you broke into my apartment?!”

“I thought you died! I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer!” You snapped back, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck. It was bad enough that your sort-of crush was seeing you in your normal pajama onesie, does he think you’re a creep now?

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his already unmanageable bed hair, “Well, I should thank you for being concerned.””

You huffed, keeping yourself turned away from him so he couldn’t see the conflict in your eyes, “Yes, you should be thankful.”

The boy chuckled, and the silence felt peaceful as he happily ate those delicious pancakes you’d made. It was such a weird moment of zen, with his normally intimidating neighbor softly humming and with the early morning glow filtering through the windows. Seungmin stared at your back, at the fluffiness of the cute onesie you were wearing, and before he knew it, he really did feel a strange, overwhelming sensation of gratitude for your presence.

You and him could hardly be classified as friends, and yet, you were the one breaking laws to check up him. He looked out for you, and you looked out for him in return. There was just something a bit surreal about it.

And now that he was thinking about it, had his heart always fluttered like that when he saw you? 

“You’ve gone quiet. Have you died back there?” You called teasingly, wondering what the radio silence was all about. 

When Seungmin didn’t answer, you frowned, but didn’t turn your head as you called again, “Hey, earth to Seungmin? Have you seriously--eek!”

You let out a rather embarrassing shriek as you suddenly felt a pair of gentle arms wrap around your waist from behind, exuding safety and care. Seungmin buried his face in your back, snuggling into the fuzzy fabric of your onesie.

“Um, Seungmin?” You prodded, completely caught off guard as your face felt hotter than ever. When you’d climbed over to his balcony and cut his lock to make sure he hadn’t died in his apartment, you’d never in your wildest dreams expected this.

“Shh,” Seungmin mumbled in reply, his voice still a little hoarse from sleep and exhaustion as he rested his cheek against you, holding you close, “Let me thank you...for caring about me.”

You thanked the gods that Seungmin could not see your face, see the way your eyes sparkled with glimmers of hope and astonishment as you tried to keep your voice level, “Thank me...with a hug?” You asked skeptically.

“Mhm,” The boy replied simply, nuzzling into you as he said softly, “A hug, to thank you for taking care of me, for worrying about me, for going out of your way to make sure I was safe. Do you not like it?”

You hesitated, because here was your perfect chance to say yes and forever keep your feelings for your neighbor locked in an unbreakable box in the depths of your heart. It was so easy for you to say that you didn’t like to be hugged, and you’d never have to feel this sort of fear of rejection from him ever again.

But at the same time, the comfort and the gentleness of his arms, the feeling of domesticity that you felt as he hugged you, it stirred your emotions in a way you’ve never felt before in your life. For the first time, you were experiencing a moment in time that you never wanted to end. You wanted to keep this memory in a treasured crystal, so you could look on at it when you were gray and old. The memory of homeliness, the memory of love.

Yes, it was love. Seungmin may not be in love with you, and may never be in love with you, but in that moment of serendipity, Seungmin made you feel loved, and that was a feeling you would never be able to stop yearning for now that you’ve experienced it.

“I like it. I like it very much,” you murmured after a long moment, leaning back into his arms. Seungmin stiffened against you, as if surprised by your acceptance, but he didn’t complain, only tightening his arms around your waist as he hung his chin on your shoulder and watched as you cooked.

“Good, because I like it, too.”

“Dork,” you scoffed, unable to fight the smile on your face as you turned off the stove and slid the bacon onto a plate. Seungmin smiled along, happily keeping his arms wrapped around your torso as you shuffled around the kitchen.

As you stumbled to the sink, half dragging a full grown man around as Seungmin refused to let go for more than a moment, you complained, “Don’t you have some sort of thesis to finish?”

Seungmin called bullshit to your words immediately, rolling his eyes as his fingers gently played with your waist and the fluffy grey material, “Do you think I would’ve crashed if I didn’t finish? I just need to do revisions.”

“Oh? Congratulations,” you said, walking to the dining table and putting down the plate of bacon before heading to brew some tea, “Is that your final assignment of the year? What else are you going to be working on now?”

Seungmin hummed noncommittally, only resting his chin on your shoulder as he soaked up every ounce of your kindness and your care. To him, you had an endless supply of it, and beneath your cold glares and sarcastic front, you were so willing to give it to him. 

Little did you know, he had a very clear assignment planned once his thesis was submitted. The assignment might take days, weeks, months, maybe even years. But however long it would take, he’d be willing to pay the prince if it meant that he could earn your heart and your love in the process.

Step 1? Ask you out properly. 

.

a/n: in the real world, the bacon would’ve burned but oh well

[slkw]

Completely and Utterly (Peter Pevensie x Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 

summary : (Y/n) showed up in Narnia not unlike the Pevensie siblings did during the Golden Age and has been living in Cair Paravel since. Peter and (y/n) have been in love with each other for a while, but are both stupidly oblivious to the feelings. However, will a ball and a shared dance make them acknowledge what is truly there?

y/n - your name

n/n - nickname 

This is my first piece of writing that I have ever posted or really shared with anyone so I hope you enjoy this and if some people do I might make a part 2?? :)

I slowly walked down the grand staircase, the train of my crimson ball gown following closely behind me. As I glanced up I could see Peter at the bottom of the staircase waiting for me with his hand out for me to take. I could not help but smile at the gesture.

This was my first ball in Narnia. I was terrified but the mere sight of the oldest Pevensie sibling make my heart slow down a few paces. Once I reached the bottom of the staircase my left hand reached out to hold Peter’s and my right one hoisted up my dress.

‘You look beautiful,’ Peter said. I blushed and bowed my head.

‘As do you.’

Peter was wearing a loose white shirt, that clung tightly to his wrists with dark black trousers. He looked like a god. His hair fell over his face perfectly and his dimples were very evident as he wore a large smile.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I linked arms with Peter, and he began walking me into the bustling ballroom. The room was packed with people dancing and laughing. The music from the orchestra bounced off every wall, reaching the tops of the high ceiling.

Peter placed his hands delicately on my waist as we begun to dance. However, the music quickly changed, and he grinned at me as the pace of our danced increased. My heart raced as adrenaline coursed through my body. Everything around us vanished and it felt as though it was only him and I alone in this huge ballroom.

Unknown to us – everyone had stopped dancing, and all eyes were on us. There was now a large clearing in the middle of the hall, and we danced quickly around the room, passing the other three Pevensie siblings on the way, all of which sported large smirks.

I was completely and utterly entranced. His blue eyes shone, eye contacting never faulting. As the song came to a stop, so did we. We then stood in the middle of the ballroom, completely breathless and utterly in love (however, this was not known to either of us).

The hall broke into an applause, snapping us from our trance. We both blushed bright scarlet with embarrassment. Peter bowed; I curtsied. The orchestra began playing another song as the applause died out. This song bared a steadier and slower rhythm.

‘That was amazing,’ a voice from our left said.

We both turned our heads to see Edmund standing there – grinning. ‘If you would not mind Peter, may I steal (y/n) for this dance?’

‘Of course,’ Peter replied, slightly hesitant but nevertheless, he gave Edmund my hand.

Edmund and I began to dance. He leant forward and whispered in my ear, ‘You like him, don’t you?’

I stumbled over my words, attempting to deny it. However, my attempts were not convincing, and I eventually confessed.

‘I knew it, I think everyone does. Well, except Peter. He’s too in love with you to notice.’

Edmund gently spun me as I replied, ‘What – Peter cannot possibly be in love with me. He would have said something. Right?’

‘Dear (y/n), you are just as oblivious as him. Yes of course he is in love with you. Have you not seen the way he looks at you?’ Edmund teased.

‘Like what? He looks at everyone the same.’

‘Not you, he looks at you as though you might vanish into thin air if he looks away.’

I was at a loss for words. He actually likes me. The High King of Narnia likes me. My face was completely flushed red, almost matching my dress. Edmund could not help but smile at the blush painted across my face. We continued to dance gracefully, as the conversation topic switched from Peter to castle gossip and the likes.

 However, all while Edmund and I were immersed in our dancing and conversation, Peter was watching us both like a hawk. Although he would probably hate to admit, he was in fact jealous. From his point of view Edmund had his hand on my waist while I blushed and laughed along with him. Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that the blush along my cheeks was caused by himself. The thought of him being in love me with continuously ran through my head, along with the dance we had just shared.

Once again the song came to an end and this time it was replaced with an upbeat song. Edmund walked me over to Peter and Lucy who stood drinking out of golden rimmed goblets.

‘Where’s Susan?’ I questioned.

Peter nonchalantly nodded his head over towards Susan who was dancing with the Prince of the Lone Islands. I smiled and giggled at the sight of the lovestruck Susan. I turned back towards Peter and Lucy, Edmund’s arm still interlocked with mine. Peter looked unusually upset and I shot him a look of worry, to which he just brushed off. I ignored this action and slowly released my arm from Edmund’s and curtsied low in front of Lucy to meet her height and said, ‘Queen Lucy the Valiant, would you give me the honour of having this dance?’

She giggled and curtsied back, ‘Why yes of course.’

She took my arm and walked into the middle of the ballroom once again. I took her small hands in mine and began to spin her around.

Edmund walked over to Peter all while watching Lucy and I mess around in our ball gowns. ‘What’s the matter Pete?’ Edmund queried.

‘It’s nothing,’ replied Peter, attempting to keep up his High King façade and not let his feelings through.

‘Would it be anything to do with (y/n)?’ Edmund shot back.

Peter just glanced away and made up an excuse of having to attend to the guests to avoid any further questions on him and (y/n). Edmund was left smirking at where Peter stood moments previous.

 As the night came to an end, all the guests left Cair Paravel, and I retired back to my room. I untied to back of my dress and let it fall to the ground, pooling by my feet. Stepping out of the dress, I slipped on my nightgown. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore was distant but comforting. The events of the evening played on repeat in my head, however, I was still unsure of why Peter was so dismissive of me after the ball.

Exhaustion began to take over me, but due to not wanting to sleep just yet I opened the glass door onto the balcony and let the cool air fall over me. I walked out onto the balcony and took in the sight of Narnia sleeping. The stars laughed amongst each other as they shone down onto the castle and the trees rustled silently with one another. A dark silhouette came into view from the corner of my eye. I turned my head to see Peter also standing silently on his balcony a few along from mine. His white shirt billowed in the wind as his hands gripped the edge of the stone balcony. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight, I could not help but stare. I quietly coughed to grab his attention and when his eyes met mine, he was unable to conceal the small smile on the face. I motioned for him to wait there and dashed back into my room. The dressing gown that laid on my bed was quickly wrapped around my body and I was running down the hallway, not actually processing what I was doing.

 Pushing his door open, I could see him still standing on his balcony waiting for me – just as I had asked. At the sound of the door being opened, he turned around. I stepped out onto the cold stone, a nervous smile beginning to form on my face.

‘Hi’, I said, my voice wavering slightly.

‘Hi’, he repeated.

We then both stood there in silence, taking in the view of Narnia, just as we both were doing separately moments before. ‘Is everything alright?’ I questioned breaking the silence.

‘Yeah, I am just a little tired – that’s all.’

‘Peter. You don’t need to lie to me.’

Nothing was said back, and we continued to stand in the quiet. I rested my hands against the balcony and leaned over the side, looking down on the courtyard below. From the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at me, with a look on his face I could not describe. Nonetheless, it made me blush.

‘I enjoyed tonight,’ he spoke.

‘As did I,’ I replied.

Without warning, he placed his hand over mine. My heart skipped a few beats as I turned to face him.

‘Do you like Edmund?’ Peter blurted out, finally admitting what had been on his mind most of the night.

‘No, what would make you think that?’ I queried.

‘I don’t know, it’s just the way you look at him,’ he said.

‘Edmund is like a brother to me, nothing more. He is fun to have around and we share the same interests. He has really made me feel welcome in Narnia.’

‘Have I?’ said Peter, changing the subject.

‘More than anyone actually.’

After this was said, a deep blush made its way onto Peter’s face; I giggled at the sight and took his hand into mine. My eyes could not help but flicker down to his lips. ‘You look tired (n/n), you should sleep,’ Peter said.

The use of this new nickname made my heart jump in my chest. I bowed my head, attempting to hide my crimson face. At the sight of this, Peter lifted my chin upwards with his hand, causing us to make eye contact.

‘I should probably go back to my room then,’ I said, the tension between us making my legs feel as though they would give way any second.

I took my hand from his and made my way to the oak door that separated his room from the hallway.

‘Wait,’ he said just as I was about to turn the doorknob, ‘you could stay in my room for the night.’

‘Only if you want to,’ he added.

I did not know what to do or say or think. Did Peter Pevensie really ask me to stay in his room for the night?

‘I – I, I would love to’, I stammered out.

He motioned toward the bed and I got in, pulling the covers up to my chest. I laid my head against the silk pillows and closed my eyes. At the sound of buttons popping, I opened them again to see Peter taking off his shirt. I could not help but stare. His back muscles were quickly exposed as they flexed with movement. His eyes met mine as he nervously said, ‘Is this okay?’

‘More than okay.’

As my eyes fell closed in exhaustion, I felt him get in beside me and his arms pull me into his chest. I could hear Peter whisper something into my hair, but I drifted into unconsciousness before I could reply. I am still not sure, but it sounded very much like the words, ‘I love you.’

[megthemewlingquim]

WATERMELON SUGAR

Summary: Breathe him in, breathe him out.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: very brief smut, (public) oral sex (female receiving)

A/N: This is Chapter Two of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Watermelon Sugar, the first song I actually listened to by Harry (as a solo artist). I know he means for the meaning of this song to be open ended but come on, we all know that this song is about doing the dirty. 

I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.

A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

Read Chapter One, "GOLDEN", here!

Find the “Fine Line” masterlist here!

The sun shines, and the waves of the ocean crash onto the rocks and the shores of the beach. The sand is a beautiful white, and people laugh and talk as they lay on it, relishing in each others’ company.

And you are no exception to this. Loki lays beside you, on a pink blanket that you brought. He had mumbled, “I’m not laying on that,” but once he saw you lay down, he sighed, though not with annoyance, and went to join you.

“I’m not used to this heat,” he says. Black sunglasses cover his green eyes, but you can tell he has his eyes on the water in front of you. “I was born on a planet of snow. I am forever cold. But this… this feels quite nice.”

You can hear laughter and cheers from a group of people to your left. They are all dressed in bathing suits and sunglasses, and they lay on towels as well. It seems they are being well-fed as well, as they all snack on fruit — you can see some of them eating watermelon slices. As you glance over to them, you see other people, people who are not in the original group, being offered the fruits as well.

“Want some watermelon, sugar?” you ask, a grin on your face.

“Hm?” Loki asks. “What’s that?”

It takes a second for you to register it. “Wait, you’ve—” you stammer in disbelief, “you’ve never…” You stand up, looking determined. “You’ve never had watermelon? I’m getting you some.”

“Love, you don’t have to —” Loki tries to object.

“Nope, you’ve awakened my curious side. I wanna see how you like it.” You grin down at him again. “Hold on a second.” With that, you start to speed-walk down the sand.

Loki looks at you as you leave. His eyes roam all over you, and they spend a second longer on your ass than anything else. You wear a thin, small pair of bikini bottoms, and your legs are waxed and smooth.

He sighs, contentedly, laying completely on his blanket, letting the sun warm his face and his bare chest. He closes his eyes. He knows he can’t sleep, not in this midday sun, but simply resting is good enough for him now.

A cool drop of something lands on his face a few minutes later, and it startles him a bit. However, he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you standing above him, holding something in your hand. 

“Eat up, babe.”

Loki reaches up and swipes the drop of the wet something off his face. Tentatively, he licks it. “Hm,” he muses. “That’s sweet.”

“Try biting it, you’ll love it.” With a little grunt, you sit next to him again, offering him a piece of watermelon. He takes it.

After a bite and some slow chewing, he hums again in approval. “That’s nice. Quite refreshing.”

“Glad you like it,” you say cheerfully. You nod over to the party to your left. “Y’know, those people were awfully friendly. Extremely kind. Very, uh, open and cheerful. They didn’t seem to care about whether or not anyone was a stranger, they let them join anyway. It was just…” You stop, trying to search for the words. “Love all around. There was plenty of food to go around, more than just watermelons — also raspberries and blueberries. They were awfully cuddly, too.”

“Perhaps they’re on something,” Loki says smugly. “Maybe they’re all high.”

“You might think that, but maybe that’s because it’s not… not widely accepted to be cuddly and open in public.” You roll your eyes, though not at him. “Why can’t everyone just treat people with kindness?”

“You’re human. You have your faults. Those people? They might’ve just learned to move past them. We can all learn from them, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” you say. “They might also just be relishing in the fact that we can be close to each other again. Physically, I mean. I don’t know if you were here in 2020, but... uh, there was a —”

“I remember,” Loki smirks, though not at the unfortunate memories of what had happened back then. “Perhaps we can learn from them about that, too… would you like to stay here until dark, my love? We could walk around, do whatever it is you humans do in the ocean, find some supper, just spend the whole day here?”

“What’s that look on your face for?” you chuckle. “Do you have something planned?”

He gasps, faking surprise. “My darling, why would you ever think that? It’s just an innocent day at the beach. Besides, they’re not getting… too intimate.”

“What’s ‘too intimate’ supposed to mean?” you ask, a little something creeping into your head and making you smile.

He smirks but says nothing. Instead, he changes the subject. “Did you meet anybody when you went down to that group of people?”

Playfully, you roll your eyes at him. “Everyone there said hello, but I really didn’t get to talk to anyone besides this one man. He was dressed as if it were spring, not summer — he was wearing a multicolored shirt, a freakin’ vest, and some sort of jeans. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he certainly looked nice. I also liked his nails, they were colored as well.”

You look at the water as you chew your fruit. “You’d look nice with black nails, maybe even green ones.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe…”

The day passes quite slowly, but you don’t mind. It stays hot and the sun stays visible. Clouds are almost nonexistent, which is always a plus when you want to swim.

Loki joins you, and you make great fun of splashing each other. When you go deeper into the water, he finds enjoyment in diving deep, coming up in front of you, holding your face in his hands, and kissing you before going back under. You’re taken aback the first few times, then you get the message and kiss him back with a breathy laugh.

Drowning is of no thought to you. You can swim, but even if you couldn��t, you know Loki would take care of you. He always stays close and you keep your eyes on each other.

When it gets a little later, you get out of the water and dry off. Many people have already left, including the little party you encountered. Only a few people remain, some of them in couples, and they either rest on their towels or walk on the shoreline.

“Could we stay here a little while longer?” Loki asks. “There’s one more thing I’d like to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say amiably, though you wonder what ‘one more thing’ might be.

You both wait until everyone else has left. By this time, you’ve put your shirt on, for your bathing suit has dried but it is getting colder. Loki has not put anything more on him. Perhaps he welcomes the cold.

When Loki starts to move, you look at him. He shuffles to you, practically crawling to you. You gasp as he lightly pushes you back onto your towel. Your head lands not on the hardness of sand but on a little pillow that was not there before.

“Loki, Loki, wh-what are you —”

He shushes you, and just that alone makes you shiver with arousal. “If you allow me, I would like to give you something… I’ve been here all day, resisting the urge to take you in front of all of those people. Do you know how difficult that was?”

“N-no,” you answer. “But —” You interrupt yourself with a nervous chuckle. “—knowing you, you probably couldn’t hold it in for long.”

“Hence,” he grins, looking down at you, his eyes lingering on your “quim”. He likes that word. He’s used it before. “Would you mind if I go down on you? I just wanna taste it. Maybe give you an orgasm. Whatever works for you.”

You nod frantically, but then you look around. No one else is on the beach, no one else is present to look at you.

“Do not worry about that,” Loki says when he notices your worried glances. He laces your fingers with his own, holding your hand and running his thumb across your skin in comforting little motions. “No one is here, sweetness, just look at me. Do that, or look up. I know how you are when I do this. Sometimes you’re too self conscious to see me doing this to you with all my enthusiasm. So, if you want, look up. I won’t mind.”

You breathe out shakily, and your breath gets caught in your throat as you see Loki pull your bottoms to the side. Immediately, he begins, latching his tongue and lips to your most intimate parts. He licks and sucks all around, paying special attention to your clit — he knows what you like. Your stomach heaves as you breathe. 

“I don’t know if I could ever go without this,” he moans. “You’re so wonderful and... and warm...”

You established long ago that Loki actually takes pleasure from pleasuring you, but it never fails to catch you off guard.

After a particularly hard suck to your clit, you moan, and it is louder than intended.

Loki seems to like it. “Sounds just like a song. Sing for me.”

A laugh then. “Okay, Phantom.” When Loki looks up at you in confusion, you shake your head. “I’ll show you later.”

Soon, it’s not long before you’re squirming in your chair, breathing heavily as Loki holds you down. The coil in your gut is rising, and rising fast. Loki’s drive to please you is incredible, and you can tell he’s determined.

You moan, quite shamelessly, out loud as you reach your end, and it takes quite a long time for you to regain your senses. Loki smiles up at you once he gets his mouth off of your quivering pussy. “Was that good, love?”

You laugh, breathlessly. “Yeah. Yeah, that was good. Thank you.”

You leave without saying much else about it. He takes you home, and kisses you in the doorway as you move to leave. The sun is long gone, and the moonlight fills the air with a white glow.

You turn to close the door behind you.

In a split second decision, you pull him into the house, and he doesn’t resist. He stays the night, in your house and in your bed.

[flamingo-writes]

Heat Waves — Rohan x Reader

Summary: Rohan can’t believe the amount of detail and effort put into the little present you had for him. The amount of love and admiration swelling in his chest drives him to show you how grateful he is in the most tenderof ways. 

Authors Note: This fic is named after the song that got me in the mood to write this, it was also the song I heard to the most while writing/proofreading this. Heat Waves by Glass Animals Why are glass animals songs so sexy aaaaaah

Fun fact: the reader's stand's name is based of this same band.

Word count: 2.8 words

Genre: tender fluffy smut

Warnings: NSFW

Date: nov.29.2020

Rohan was speechless. 

He never thought he'd be falling this hard for someone. And yet, with each new day, you made him fall more and more in love with you. How did you do it? He didn't know. And he didn't want to know either. For once, he didn't want to know the answer behind a question. He wanted to keep it a mystery, and keep the magic going. 

"You like it?" You whispered as Rohan gaze went around his room, noticing every small detail of your installation art. 

Your name escaped his lips in the dreamiest of whispers. 

"This is gorgeous..." He said breathless. 

Several pieces of glass hanging from the ceiling. White and yellow and even golden stained glass hanging from threads from the ceiling. From any point in the room, they just looked like pretty pieces of glass hanging, but in front of Rohan's bed, you could see the real thing the stained glass was painting. 

Heaven's Door. 

Rohan felt so flattered, not only you managed to make an installation art of his Stand, but the tones in the glass were beautiful. The sunlight shining through, only reflected the light in the walls, painting his room in warm golden tones. 

Rohan turned around, his heart beating excitedly on his chest. Oh, how bad he wanted to kiss you. How bad he wanted to hold you, and make you feel as good as you had just made him feel. 

"Babe, this is perfect. I love it" He whispered cupping your face in his hands, and brushed his nose against yours. 

Just how you loved it. 

He still couldn't understand how you hadn't grown tired of him. Everyone did. And to be fair, he did grow tired of everyone else. He liked to hang out with a few people every now and then, but never for too long. 

Not you. 

You leaned closer, pressing your lips against your boyfriend's in a soft melting kiss. A soft melting kiss that soon left Rohan breathless and wanting more. 

When he met you, sure he thought you were pretty. And whenever you both turned out to be at the coffee place at the same time, he'd sketch you from afar as you studied. But that was it. No other interest other than sketching you sparked from him. At least at first.

This, however, changed slowly over the weeks.

One time, you were leaving as he was walking in. In a clever attempt, taking advantage of the close proximity as you brushed your shoulder next to his, he thought of using Heaven's Door to try and peek into your mind. 

Though, he was surprised to find out you had a Stand yourself. A Stand that reacted instantly and stopped Heaven's Door. 

Rohan's hands moved down your sides, wrapping them around your back and squeezing you tightly against him, as his desire rose, wanting to feel you closer. The sweet moan that escaped your lips when he squeezed you, only fed his hunger. The heat rising between both your bodies pressed together.

You broke the kiss, resting your forehead on Rohan's cheek as you both caught your breaths silently.

"Im glad you liked it" You whispered. 

Rohan and you turned back to look at your sculpture, as the sunset shone through. The light reflected around the room, and Rohan's usual dark bedroom now looked golden. It was beautiful. The way Heaven's Door sculpture seemed to shine like the sun itself, white and yellow tones blending in all the corners of his room. The pieces of glass moving softly with the delicate evening wind coming from the window in a coordinated delicate dance. The soft clanking adding a gentle orchestra to the once silent room.

Rohan couldn't stop staring at the glass. 

The Glass. 

It had been a sudden, very thick, yet transparent glass what had stopped Heaven's Door from peeking into your mind that day. A glass that had come out of  nowhere, standing between the both of you. 

As Rohan's eyes caught a glance of what had happened, he saw a silhouette standing behind you. A tall, android looking figure standing behind you. A figure made out of glass. 

It was called Glass Animal. And it could create glass of all shapes, sizes and colors. It was for the most part, a stand meant for protection, since you could control how thin or how thick the glass was. 

However, the way you used your stand, was quite creative. Only adding to Rohan's new acquired interest in you. You used Glass Animal as a useful tool for your art. The news of you being an artist like him pushed him into developing feelings for you.

The installation art standing in front of him had come from Glass Animal. He had been there when you gathered the glass you used for Heaven's Door. And god, you looked so sexy that day. 

Rohan turned back, looking at you, and without thinking it twice, he kissed you passionately. The memories playing in his head as how the both of you became closer and closer with every passing day. How in the beginning you didn't quite like him. 

After the Heaven's Door incident. It took you a while to warm up to him. Mostly, your curiosity, since it wasn't until then that you noticed how much he frequented the coffee shop, and how he was always sketching. 

Rohan pushed you gently on the bed, as your heart skipped a beat, knowing where this was heading. 

You had been dating for almost 3 months, and you hadn't gone around it. Sure, you had come into his room before, made out, felt each other's skin, but it had never come down to it. Today it felt different. The looks he was giving you, the way he seemed completely enamored by your work, the golden tones adding to the atmosphere. It all made sense to you. It was crystal clear that Rohan wanted to finally cross that milestone with you. 

It was two days ago when Rohan arrived to your place, no plan made beforehand, he just wanted to take a break from his work and spend time with you and relax for a while. 

You were in the backyard, Glass Animal in front of you, materializing walls of glass in front of you. Several walls, all of them thin, all of them in very different colors. 

"What are you doing now?" Rohan asked,  walking towards you, noticing the menacing baseball bat in your hand. 

By this point, he knew you liked art as much as he did. However, your specialty was clay sculpture and installation art, glass being your first choice material for your installations. Something that didn't surprise him whatsoever.

"I got an email from City S's University, and they want to see my portfolio. I never take pictures of my work, so, I'm gonna be making installations like crazy and taking pictures" 

That day, Rohan watched you break glass like a psycho. The fact that you were wearing short shorts and a tanktop while breaking glass in the middle of the summer evening, scared him a bit. 

Swinging your bat far more violently than necessary, a thin layer of sweat shining on your skin, as the sun shone bright and strong in the middle of the sky. Glass raining all around, as the sunlight reflected everywhere as you fearlessly watched the glass jump everywhere. In the meantime, Glass Animal gathered all the broken class in a pile behind you as you kept breaking wall after wall.

Part of your stand's abilities included that you couldn't get cut by glass, which conveniently allowed you to break glass as if it were nothing.

Convenient. 

It was all too convenient. The setting, the gesture, the mood. Rohan had been craving this moment, and he wasn't going to let it slip. It just felt right. 

The way your skin got covered in goosebumps as soon as he crawled on top of you amused him. 

He whispered your name once more as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer, kissing him hungrily. 

Resting his weight on his elbow in the matress, his other hand quickly explored your skin underneath your shirt. Roaming the territory he knew all too well but was eager to finally claim as his. 

A loud  moan escaped your lips as his hand found your boob and squeezed it after teasingly running his fingers over your nipple. 

"Rohan..." You gasped.

Oh, how sweet your voice sounded. So needy and yet so sweet. It only fueled him to keep teasing you with his free hand. 

Little by little, clothing began to decorate the floor of Rohan's room. The both of you drowning in the echoes of each other's name, desperate moans and sweet nothings. 

Arousal becoming painfully evident as you took your time pleasuring each other with your hands and mouths. Anticipating what came next, eager to get fully lost in each other. 

Rohan's breath was still agitated from having you sucked him off. However, he was still so terribly turned on, and still desperate. The sight of you swallowing his cum, followed by your fingers cleaning the edges of your mouth before licking them clean was too much to bear. 

"Fuck, come here, darling" He whispered as you crawled on top of him. 

His hand went to the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss. His togue quick to tease your lips as you rested your weight on him. His other hand held on to your waist, as he swiftly managed to flip you over, leaving him on top, and your legs around his waist. 

He jerked his hips, as you felt his erection hot against your wet entrance. You moaned into his mouth. The hunger urged Rohan to make his way inside you already, but not yet. He cared about you, and felt the excitement built in his chest. He wanted to do this with you, god, how bad he wanted it. But he wanted to make it right. 

“Rohan…” Your voice felt gentle, too gentle. He felt you had touched his heart with your words alone. “Rohan, I want you so badly” 

The consent he was about to ask for came out of your swollen lips in a desperate moan. A chill ran down his back, as he positioned himself. 

“You do, baby girl?” His voice came out deeper than earlier, it was almost delirious. You arched your back and nodded. 

“Yes, Rohan. Please” 

The young artist smiled and leaned closer, kissing you. A tender delicate kiss. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer, feeling his chest pressing against yours. 

Slowly, Rohan jerked his hips, finding his way between your folds, going deeper. A whimper escaped your lips, your fingernails clawing on his shoulders as he went deeper and deeper, stretching you out. Finally, the whimper turned into an echo of his name, followed by a breathless gasp. His chest puffing with pride, he moaned your name back as he kissed your cheek and your neck. 

He began rocking his hips, slowly at first. Savouring every inch of your clenching wet walls. God, this felt as addictive as very few things in life. You felt perfect. Your voice, the rise and fall of your chest, Rohan feeling your heartbeat against his chest, the blush, the sweat. Not only it was adorable to watch you lose yourself around him, it was all so erotic. 

He remained going at a slow pace, mostly enjoying the way your body reacted to him. Arching your back, sometimes moving your own hips to make him go even deeper.

“Rohan, faster, please” You begged.

“Such an impatient little girl, aren’t you? I’m taking my time with you, doll” 

He pulled back, almost pulling out and went once more, deeply inside you. Painfully slowly. The way your back arched, and your cries became needy. The way your tone began rising slowly. He had already made you cum twice while eating you out, he was noticing the pattern in your voice as you got closer to your climax. He chuckled, and bit your neck gently. You gasped. Your fingers clawing on his skin once more. Rohan smiled against your skin. 

“You like that, don’t you? 

“Ye-yes” You said breathless. 

Rohan’s pace sped up, but not significantly. He was breathing deeply and steadily, trying to keep himself from going feral, since he wanted to enjoy his first time with you. The times he had been with other women, it was mostly to satisfy his curiosity and occasional needs, but he had never been with a woman and felt this intimate before. He never felt the need to slow down and savour everything his senses could detect.

But you were a different story. He wanted to make you feel as good as he felt. He wanted to make you addicted to him.

You lied in a melodic mess. Like an orchestra, filled with tiny details, all of them delighting Rohan. You were just too good to just have sex with you. No. He had to savour you all, hear, touch, see. For the first time, he felt the need to satisfy your needs rather than his own. Hearing your voice get progressively higher, as you continued to twist and shake underneath him with every deep thrust, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and the blush on your cheeks accentuated how you felt. It was something beautiful. Right now, you looked like the best piece of art he’d seen. The best piece of art he’d made. 

He had made a mess out of you. And what a satisfying mess. 

Feeling your walls clench around him tightly, as you screamed his name. He liked it. He couldn't help himself but speed his pace, each push stronger. Your moans got louder, as he rode you through your orgasm, feeling like every inch of your body was aching in the most delicious of ways. 

An echo in the shape of your name escaped through Rohan’s teeth. 

“Fuck, you feel so good” Rohan purred hissing your jaw. You slowly regained consciousness of your surroundings, feeling overwhelmed by the overstimulation and Rohan's faster and stronger pace. 

“Ah, Rohan” You said, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him closer, kissing him. “Rohan, cum inside me” You moaned, as a chill ran down his back. “Please” 

“You sure about that?” Rohan purred against your ear. 

“Ye-yeah. Don’t worry, I’ve taken my precautions” Your voice, lust dripping from it made a chill run up and down his back as he, for a second, felt like he was dangerously close to cumming on your command. “Rohan, I want you to fill me up” 

“Fuck, babe. You’ll make me last less than I anticipated” Rohan growled.

“Would it be too bad?”

“You are mine, babe" Rohan's green eyes stared into yours as his pace sped up suddenly "All mine. Only mine” 

You cried out in response, your nails digging into his back.

With his heart beating fast in his chest, he felt dizzy with everything about you. Drunk on your scent, your touch, your sounds. His pace was growing erratic, as your voice got louder and louder, each moan higher and louder. His climax starting to condense in his belly, as you kept reacting as delicious as ever to his touch. Your grip on his skin became stringer and stronger. 

Boy, that blissful moment. It felt ecstatic. Filling you up, as you screamed his name, nails clawing to his back. One last push, goinf as deep as he could, as he came. The idea of cumming inside you, filling you up like this fed his ego. Having you in a twisting mess underneath him fed his ego as well. 

You looked so beautiful like this. 

As Rohan caught his breath, he kissed your face with soft kisses, as you purred his name, followed by sweet nothings. 

"Rohan, I—I...I really enjoyed that" You gasped breathless, as Rohan slipped out of you. 

"I know, babe...I noticed" He murmured resting on top of you, snuggling his head underneath your neck. "I did too…" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one of your hands caressing his hair.

"I noticed" 

The sunset now long gone, the golden tones now replaced by a pale blue light. Streetlights coming from the window, as the hanging glass made its job and reflected it all around the room.

Your breaths echoing softly as the world came back into focus,  as the both of you lied still breathless and satisfied.

Rohan was the first one to break the silence.

"Stay here tonight. Please?" 

"Anything you want, my darling"

Rohan looked up, resting his weight on his elbows before leaning closer and kissing you in the most gentles of ways. A slow, tired and breathless kiss, reflecting everything he felt for you. 

[katierosefun]

well, even though literally no one asked, am i going to do a whole analysis on how the red album is also lowkey about tcw? sure. sh, let me indulge 12/13 year old me.

state of grace:

our wonderful opening track. the lyrics “just twin fire signs / four blue eyes”—from this line alone, i think a lot about anakin and ahsoka and obi-wan, just because what color are their eyes? blue. check and mate.

but on a more serious level: “and i never saw you coming / and i’ll never be the same” speaks to how each of these characters’ lives were interrupted by the presence of the other. obi-wan certainly didn’t expect anakin to come into his life, and i doubted anakin ever expected ahsoka to come into his life.

“love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right” and “these are the hands of fate / you’re my Achilles heel” speaks to how this whole theme of love and how both raw and burning and ruthless love can shine in this specific universe. specifically anakin’s kind of love. additionally, the idea of Achilles heel...i’ve already discussed the parallels between Achilles and anakin and don’t feel like rehashing, but it’s def. worth noting.

“this is the golden age of something good and right and real”...golden age. the war was messy and terrible and shouldn’t have ever happened, but also, i think for that brief moment, disaster lineage was at least together.

red

look me in the eye and lie to me about how this song doesn’t sum up the exhilarating rush that must have been being around someone like anakin skywalker.

“losing him was blue like i’ve ever known / missing him was dark grey all alone / forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met / but loving him was red”: this entire refrain is about that kind of ruthless, very fiery-seeing-red-everywhere kind of sensation that comes with love. (or, as the song alludes, a kind of dangerous love.)

and if we’re talking about dangerous kind of love—“fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there’s no right answer / regretting him was like wishing you never found out love could be that strong”...thinking thoughts about how there must have been all these times for the people around anakin to clash heads. bro. what even is that.

“remembering him comes in flashbacks, in echoes / told myself it’s time now, gotta let go”. ha ha. you ever think about the people who live after order 66 and wonder what the hell happened to the person they loved. ha.

treacherous

alright, time to put on the anidala hat. this song is supposed to be all about loving someone and constantly feeling like you’re sliding down a slippery slope. a treacherous path—a reckless path—and yet, and yet, “i like it”.

the whole concept of these two being put in a whirlwind romance matches perfectly with these lyrics: “i can’t decide if it’s a choice / getting swept away / i hear the sound of my own voice / asking you to stay”. this mess of a relationship that probably shouldn’t have happened, but it happened, and now the only choice for these two is to hold on...bro.

i knew you were trouble.

ohhhh god, do i need to explain how this is an anidala song or—

“i was in your sights / you got me alone / you found me”,,,the fact that anakin skywalker really looked at padmé amidala after ten years and automatically went “i love her”. a part of me will always sigh and want to pat anakin’s head that please, please, please control yourself, but what am i supposed to do anyways—

but also, the way this song also addresses all the dangerous things that come with a love that probably shouldn’t have started / shouldn’t have been born with so many secrets. the damning / basically self-loathing lyrics like “the joke is on me” and “shame on me now” is honestly kind of sad, and while i don’t think padmé ever regretted loving anakin (and i’ve covered this so many times, but i think anakin and padmé genuinely loved each other), there was def. a sense of constant danger and fear that one day, all the secrets will come tumbling out / something’s going to happen. and all that ultimately bubbles over in revenge of the sith, right when padmé looks at anakin and just doesn’t see him anymore.

all too well

tbh, this song deserves a whole long post on its own, but i’ll try to be concise. i genuinely think this could be about any of the tcw characters / tcw pairings, but because it’s my post and my obsession, i’ll discuss the disaster lineage. there’s something so quietly sad about the line “but you still got [my scarf] in your drawer, even now” and how that speaks to how obi-wan has anakin’s lightsaber / how anakin has ahsoka’s lightsaber both as himself and as ahsoka after ahsoka left the order / after order 66. the fact that you still have a piece of someone you love(d), long after they’re gone...

the fact that this song is so full of memories and longing and aching and grief over a loved relationship. thinking about the lyrics “you tell me about your past, thinking your future was me” is especially sad because while i don’t think anakin was ever completely open about his childhood / past, i like to think he must have told some stories to obi-wan and padmé and ahsoka about happier moments—and you have to wonder what kind of future anakin saw for himself with his loved ones.

“maybe this thing was a masterpiece until you tore it all up” speaks to how for a rare, rare moment, we see anakin skywalker as the hero we’re all supposed to like—and we see how it all crumbles apart so fast.

“but you keep my old scarf from that very first week / because it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me” hits especially hard when you think about how vader still has ahsoka’s lightsabers, or the fact that everything goes “back to when i loved you so / back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known”...thinking. a lot about anakin and how the love he felt / received from his friends were real, realer than anything that palpacreep could ever give him. it was all real, and now they’re all memories.

22

okay, this is just a fun song so i can’t really apply it anywhere, but i like to think there must have been a birthday somewhere along the line / some kind of happy event where there’s some chaotic tcw fam shenanigans. ditching the whole scene and “end[ing] up dreaming instead of sleeping”...i like to think they must have had some kind of happy moment like that.

i almost do

this song honestly reminds me the most of anakin and ahsoka. do you ever think that ahsoka might have wanted to reach out to anakin at some point? how “it takes everything in me not to call you”—how she might wish that she could talk to him again but every time she doesn’t, she almost does. (and ha. this makes their S7 reunion even more painful.)

the whole “i bet you think i either moved on or hate you” and “i bet it never ever occurred to you that i can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye” speaks mostly to that very same reunion. the fact that ahsoka and anakin leave so many things unsaid—the fact that ahsoka restrains herself, cites that reason for the fact that they’ll just catch up another time...when that another time never happens.

we are never ever getting back together

hahaa, i can’t quite laugh about this but also i can because i kinda made a crack edit of disaster lineage + this song over the summer, and it really is just a joke but also...lol vader + ahsoka + obi-wan, but more specifically ahsoka and vader in their reunion in rebels lol. they’re never getting back together, geddit? they “used to think [they] were forever” and “[sigh] he calls me up again and is like i still love you and like,,,this is exhausting, you know?” yeah, me too sis. 🙄

stay stay stay

okay, okay, okay, maybe going a little bit into crack-y happy tcw feelings, but all i’m saying is that i love the image of these dorks staying for each other, you know? the whole “you took the time to memorize me” and “all those times that you didn’t leave / it’s been occurring to me i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life” and “no one else is gonna love me when i get mad” makes me kinda soft but also sad knowing that one of the tragedies of tcw fam is that no one really stays.

the last time

highkey the whole clovis arc in season 6. but anyways, especially the lines about “this is the last time i’m asking you this / put my name at the top of your list” speaks a lot to me about this hunger (yeah, this is @ anakin) to be someone’s first choice. it’s about the anger and jealousy and dull pain of knowing that everyone else’s priorities are elsewhere (and that’s not their fault, but you still feel like it is).

but if we’re thinking about the clovis arc especially, i think a whole lot about anakin + padmé, as well as anakin and obi-wan, esp. in these lyrics: “you wear your best apology / but i was there to watch you leave” and “all those times i let you in / just for you to go again”. we know anakin and padmé were...going through it in this arc, but specially anakin and obi-wan’s conversation—the one where obi-wan’s trying to reach anakin? we see obi-wan briefly open up (ie. about satine!) and anakin quickly shuts it down, and when obi-wan leaves, we see the pain on both of their faces because this wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go.

but also, if we’re circling back to anakin and padmé’s relationship in this arc especially: the really, really painful lyrics about “this is the last time you tell me i’ve got it wrong” and “this is the last time i say it’s been you all along” and “this is the last time i let you in my door” and “this is the last time / i won’t hurt you anymore”...this arc truly explores just how deep the hurt can run when you have a secret relationship. how quickly love can blur into possession and jealousy and anger, and we see that in how anakin and padmé just...both crumble apart, especially in that one bit when padmé basically says she doesn’t want to see anakin for a little while. like. idk. it’s just sad, because this arc really showed just all the issues and problems within a relationship built on lies.

holy ground

oh god, what a fun song. but anyways, just to kick things off: “and darling, it was good / never looking down / and right there where we stood / was holy ground” speaks to a relationship that was good, even if it was wild and brief. which. disaster lineage.

the whole “i guess we fall apart in the usual way / and the story’s got dust on every page” and “i see your face in every crowd” vibe too—these idiots miss each other, and they probably see each other where they’re not supposed to. there was nothing unusual about their falling apart, of course, but something about this song compels me to think about how even in the grief and pain that ultimately drags ahsoka and obi-wan down especially, i think they still are fond of their happier memories with anakin.

also, “tonight i’m gonna dance for all we’ve been through” and “but i don’t wanna dance if i’m not dancing you” makes me a little sad because i think a lot about the fall of the empire and how the whole galaxy is out celebrating, but there’s a certain togruta woman who can’t completely celebrate because now she knows that. her whole family. really is gone.

sad beautiful tragic

this whole song is so tragic, but. anyways. more tragic disaster lineage vibes. the words “words, how little they mean / when you’re a little too late” makes me want to scream because i think a lot about how in rebels, ahsoka tells vader that she won’t leave him—not this time—and obi-wan crying that he loved anakin—the real tragedy here is that these were all words that anakin should have known deep down, but he didn’t, and they all felt late. their timing is terrible.

and “in dreams, i meet you in warm conversation” screams to me this one passage about how obi-wan dreams about anakin, although those dreams are anything but warm. but the idea of how obi-wan still dreams and how “time is taking its sweet time erasing you”—because in the kenobi novel especially, obi-wan explicitly struggles...a lot with anakin’s loss. he definitely gets...sad and tries to remember how the hell it all happened. he keeps pulling out anakin’s lightsaber and just. forcibly puts it away because he knows looking at it would cause just more grief and oh yikes.

the lucky one

ngl i forgot how fuckign good this song is,,,bro. anyways, i think this def. speaks to the og prequel trilogy trio especially, because i think they were all seriously going through with the whole...reputation thing. thinking mostly about how anakin, padmé, and obi-wan are all supposed to be these heroic / cool / beautiful figures who everyone’s supposed to look up to when in reality, they were all struggling with something. also lol the fact that obi-wan and anakin were both propped up as war propaganda figures in-universe because of palpacreep def. speaks to that whole “they’ll tell you now you’re the lucky one”.

and “they tell you that you’re lucky / but you’re so confused because you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used” and “you wonder if you’ll make it out alive” hurts the most, i think, just because how they apply to all those in prequel trilogy. anakin, obi-wan, and padmé—not to mention all the other jedi and the clones, oh god, the clones—were all fighting a war that ultimately didn’t matter, and they were all fighting a war that didn’t leave them as heroes. it just left them as pawns.

but i think if there’s any hope—any hope at all in this song, i think it’s in the last lyrics: “and they still tell the legend of how you disappeared / how you took the money and your dignity and got the hell out” reminds me the most of probably ahsoka and rex, or the people who survived the mess that was the clone wars. granted, rex didn’t exactly have the choice that ahsoka had, because she was the one who really made the big decision to look around herself and say “nope, i can’t be a part of this order”. she got the hell out.

everything has changed

hear me out, but i just think this makes for a cute anakin and ahsoka song, esp. their very cute beginnings. just like. as soon as they meet each other, both of them are ultimately changed. the fact that ahsoka has been noted to be the key to understanding who anakin is—the fact that it’s ahsoka’s relationship / interactions with anakin that ultimately makes him a better person because they’re siblings, your honor—yeah. very much the cute “all i know is we said hello”...the lyrics going on about “i just wanna know you better” and “your eyes look like coming home” makes me soft because. i think that while yes, they had their own rocky beginning, the difference between anakin and ahsoka’s relationship vs. anakin and obi-wan’s (rip i love anakin and obi-wan and i genuinely believe that obi-wan was the best teacher for anakin, and i think their bond is incredibly special, but.......boys please communicate better) is that i think anakin makes a really explicit effort to make sure ahsoka knows that like. he wants her around.

idk—i’m not saying obi-wan didn’t want anakin around! but i think one of the greatest tragedies of their relationship is that anakin always seemed to just. not click with obi-wan’s own demonstrations of love / i want you to be here messages. (the gambit duology goes a little more into this—only in those books, anakin and obi-wan actually talk a little about their feelings! which is nice!) but anyways, point being: anakin and ahsoka really looked at each other and were like “oh yeah. you’re my idiot now.” and i think that’s really cool of them.

starlight

oh god, this is kind of an anidala song but i also am tempted to say obitine song just because of that one line about “pretending to be a duchess and a prince” because,,,lol duchess geddit? and overall just think it’s really cute because. summer love!!!

but also, i do see this as an anidala song because “he was trying to skip rocks on the ocean, saying to me / don’t you dream impossible things?” because i see anakin as most certainly that dreamy-eyed boy who looks at padmé and is just. like that. (and we see a whole ton of that, esp. in aotc and how padmé initially is like “this is a terrible idea” and eventually winds up falling in love anyways, as one does.)

begin again

this song is odd because it doesn’t really give me overwhelming star wars feelings, but it does remind me a little bit of how ahsoka must have felt getting with the rebels crew. because i think ahsoka must have “watched it begin again” when she noted kanan and ezra’s interactions with each other, and i feel like when she’s with ezra, she sees a lot of the young padawan she used to be, and i think there must have been a point where she recognizes that “what’s past is past”. she’s watching everything begin again.

the moment i knew

this is another one of those songs that makes me sad about anidala because it seems like they’re always getting interrupted? the idea of being told that someone’s going to show but it might not happen because life (ie. war! there’s a war!),,,and still not being able to be really that sad about it in public makes me sad. just. i’m reminded of this one moment in tcw where anakin has to leave early because of something and just. the lyrics “what do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn’t show”—like, of course, we see anakin sneaking off, but i def. think in that one tcw episode, we get a glimpse of. how lonely life might be if you’re just. waiting for someone to come home, only to realize that they might not show.

come back...be here

ha....hahahahaa weirdly both anakin and ahsoka and obitine feelings? give me a second.

okay, so as for anakin and ahsoka first: “i can’t help but wish you took me with you” hits hard just because of the time anakin tells ahsoka that he knows what it feels like to want to leave the order. just. oh god.

and then there’s this bit of “this is when the feeling sinks in / i don’t wanna miss you like this” hits hard, esp. considering the whole utapau arc where anakin accidentally slips in ahsoka’s name. he misses her, and i don’t think he really wanted to show that—but it sinks in so hard and fast for him, and it hurts so much oh god

also, the “right when i was just about to fall”: i know that in this context, fall is supposed to mean falling in love, but. the fact that anakin is literally about to fall like,,,a few days after his reunion with ahsoka. i cry now!

as for obitine: ahahahaha. pain, esp. considering how they probably separated after their year on the run? thinking about how that goodbye must have been like—mostly thinking about how there’s so much history between the two. how strange it is that they “didn’t know each other at all”, and how they might have had “the feeling they could know so much without knowing anything at all”, and now i think about how both of them could have “stumbled through the long goodbye”. i think a lot about those years of separation and how satine confesses how she had been in love with obi-wan for a long time—and how that in itself...wondering how or when satine knew for certain that she had fallen in love with the young jedi who came to her aid. thinking about how her “falling in love in the cruelest way” is how that whole falling in love—and realizing just how in love she was—is so cruel, because like. you know. when you’ve been in love / are loving someone for like...ten years....that’s kinda intense ngl

girl at home

lol this song doesn’t really fit with anything star wars related because i don’t think anyone in tcw would actually cheat on their loved ones? still 100000/10 a bop of a song though, and i still think it’s one of swift’s more mature songs, 10000/10 recommend.

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

School Dance

For Maribat March day 25 theme school dance

Master List

“Now remember class,” Mrs. Davis spoke, “The Father Daughter dance is tomorrow afternoon at 5 till 7, make sure you get your tickets at the booth near the cafeteria.” 

“Yes Mrs. Davis.” All the students answered in unison. 

Little Charlotte Martha Brown-Wayne walked out of her 4th grade class with her best friend, Faith Couffaine, in tow. 

“So Char, are you going to be going to the dance?” Faith asked, her blue eyes locked onto Charlotte.

“I don’t think so Fae.” Charlotte turned so that her brown eyes faced the ground.

“Why not? Me and my dad are going to be there!” Faith exclaimed, fixing her headband that somehow got tangled in her thick black hair.

“Yeah because you have a dad, I don’t think moms are allowed.” Charlotte replied, tucking some stray pieces of her dark brown hair behind her ears.

“Oh please, just bring one of your moms, it’ll be fine!”

“But Fae-” She turned her head to face her best friend.

“No don’t Fae me. I already got my ticket and I know your parents are just waiting for you to ‘remember’,” She used air quotes, “to get yours. You’ll be fine Char, plus isn’t your mom really looking forward to this?” She didn’t wait for her to answer, “Exactly, so I expect to see you there.”

“Fae-” 

“Bye Charlotte, you better not leave me hanging!” Was the last thing said before she raced to hug her mom and leave in her limo. 

“Ugh, really Faith.” Charlotte then walked to the place where Alfred was always parked in order to pick her up. 

“Hello Miss Charlotte, did you have a good day at school?” Alfred questioned as he got out of the car to open the door for her. 

“It was fine.” 

“Now you’re not forgetting anything are you?” Charlotte froze like a deer in headlights, acting was not her strong suit. 

“No?” Neither was lying, just like her maman. 

Alfred opened the door for her and she quickly ducked inside, Alfred returned to his seat but didn’t move. He also didn’t lock the doors. 

“Miss Charlotte, why do you not want to go to the dance?” A simple question with a complicated answer, at least in her mind. 

“Everyone is gonna be there with their dad. I won’t because I don’t have a dad. I would be there with mom, I’d be the outcast.” 

“I don’t believe the gender of the parent you bring should matter as long as you have fun.” 

“It's called the Father Daughter dance for a reason Alfred.” 

“A simple label that should not matter Miss Charlotte.” He thought for a minute, “Tell me Miss Charlotte, will any of your friends care that you bring your mom?” 

She thought back to what Faith had been saying the entire week. “No.” 

“Will your classmates?” 

She thought again, she didn’t interact with her classmates a ton, but none of them seemed to mind the fact that she had 2 moms. “Probably not.” 

“Then what is the problem?” 

“It's just-I’ll look weird because I’m the only one with my mom. Everyone else will be there with their fathers and I’ll be there with my mother.”

“Like I stated before Miss Charlotte, it matters not the gender of the parent as long as you have fun with them. I have no doubt that some of your classmates will be their fathers but will be miserable.” 

Charlotte snapped her head up to look at him, like the mere thought of one of her classmates being miserable with their father at the Father Daughter dance was impossible. But it seemed reasonable, she knew quite a few of her classmates who talked fondly about their mothers but not their fathers. And when the subject of the Father Daughter dance came up, they never participated in the conversations unless asked, and their answers were never enthusiastic. Plus Alfred was always right, that’s what her mom, maman, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandfather taught her.

She nodded her head in determination, opening the car door and saying over her shoulder, “Be right back Alfred!” 

She pulled a 5 dollar bill out of her backpack pocket, one that had been haunting her for the past week. She made her way to the cafeteria then to the booth right next to it. 

“Hello Charlotte. Here to buy a ticket?” The lady, she’s pretty sure is a fifth grade teacher, asked.

“Yes ma’am.” She handed her the 5 dollar bill and received a small slip of paper in return.

“Remember to show that to the lady who will be at the entrance tomorrow. That’s the only way she’ll let you in. Promise not to lose it?” 

“I promise.” She smiled at the woman before racing back to where Alfred was waiting. 

-

“Mom! Maman!” Charlotte called as she entered the manor. Not hearing their voices she assumed they were in the kitchen so she went to her room to drop her backpack off and change into some more comfy clothes. 

After changing out of her uniform and into some leggings and a t-shirt she made her way to the kitchen where she found her moms. 

Her maman was baking something, probably cookies, while her mom watched her, occasionally handing her ingredients. It wasn’t an uncommon sight for Charlotte, in fact they had family baking days every Sunday. The only hard part was getting their attention, since whenever they baked they were always in their own little world together. 

Her eyes caught the frosting that she was guessing her maman had just finished making. Perfect. 

She made her way over to the bowl, grabbed the spoon, and took a big bite of the sweet treat. And as predicted,

“Charlotte!”

She turned and there her maman stood staring at her, hands on her hips as she tried to fight the smile off her face. Her mom was trying to hold back her giggling in the background. 

“Hi maman. Hi mom.” 

“Why are you eating frosting? When you know you’re not allowed.” Her maman gave her a pointed look. 

“It was the only way to get your attention.” 

“She’s not wrong Nette.” Steph interjected, coming up to stand next to Charlotte. She crouched down so she was at Charlotte’s level, “Did you get the ticket.”

“Yes, it's in my backpack.” 

“Ok make sure you don’t lose it. We all know you have your maman’s memory.” 

“Hey! My memory is not that bad!” Marinette protested. 

“Anymore. We all know what your memory was like when you were younger.” Steph reminded. 

“...Fine. I’ll give you that.” 

“Can I help frost the cookies?” Charlotte asked.

“Of course my little ladybug. Pinkie promise not to eat any frosting?” Steph held out her pinkie to Charlotte. 

“Yes mom!” Charlotte held out her pinkie, returning the promise. 

-

“Charlotte! Are you almost ready!” Steph shouted from outside her room. 

“Almost ready mom!” Charlotte replied as she adjusted the golden colored clip in her hair. 

“Charlotte you look great.” Marinette came to stand next to her in the mirror. 

Charlotte ran her hands down her black and gold dress for the umpteeth time. Whatever she did, something just didn’t look right. But she didn’t know what.

“Something doesn’t look right.” 

“I think I have an idea of what might help,” Marinette took a gold necklace off her neck, “Here you go.” 

“Wait Maman, isn’t this your favorite necklace.” 

“It is, but I think for tonight it’ll look best with you.” Marinette put the necklace around Charlotte’s neck and clipped it in the back. “There, what do you think?” 

“I love it,” She turned around and hugged Marinette, “Thank you Maman!” 

“Of course my beautiful baby bat. Now don’t keep your mom waiting.” 

Charlotte opened the door and met her mom’s face on the other side. 

“Well look at you little ladybug, ready to go?” Steph held her arm out to Charlotte. 

“Yes mom.” Charlotte took her arm as they headed outside where Alfred was waiting. 

They seated themselves in the back of the car when Steph noticed the necklace. 

"Charlotte, where did you get that necklace?" 

"Maman gave it to me. Do you like it?" 

"Yes, very much. It even goes with your dress." 

"It kinda goes with your dress too."

"I see, did Maman ever tell you how she got that necklace?"

"No, why?"

"We have arrived Miss Stephanie and Miss Charlotte." Alfred spoke.

"I'll tell you later." Steph promised. 

“You better.” Charlotte grumbled as they got out of the car, unsure if her mom actually heard her. 

-

“They’re pretty cute huh?” A man asked Stephanie. Both parents were watching their respective daughters dance together, the two girls forgetting about their parents that sat only a few feet away. 

“Adorable. I’m Stephanie, by the way, Charlotte’s mom.” She held her hand out to the man. 

“Ethan, Jasmine’s dad.” He returned the handshake. 

“I don’t suppose we could arrange some playdates in the future?”

“Of course we can. If I don’t tell Jazzy that she can see her friend again then she’ll have a riot.”

“Well would you look at that! Both of our children have at least one thing in common!” 

“Here you can put my number in here.” He slid her his phone. 

“And you can put yours in mine.” She handed her phone over.

After putting their information in the other’s phone, they both took their respective phones back and glanced at the names.

“Well Mrs. Brown-Wayne, it seems we will be seeing each other quite a lot in the future.” 

“It seems we will Mr. Cook.”

-

Marinette got a video sent to her later that night. From her lovely wife. She opened up the video to see her daughter dancing with another girl. It seemed she had inherited another one of her traits, the inability to hide her blush. 

Marinette giggled to herself as she watched her daughter continue to dance with the unknown girl. It seemed like the other girl was having fun too, if the smile she was wearing and the glow in her eyes told her anything. 

The video was followed by a text, ‘I think there will be many more playdates in the future.’ 

Marinette smiled to herself as she tucked her phone away. Fully planning on getting answers the next day on this mysterious girl who had captured her daughter’s heart. Young love was always so cute to watch.

-

“Maman?” Charlotte asked as she was being tucked into bed, the night’s events had taken a toll on her. In the comfort of her bed she was struggling to keep her eyes open. 

“Yes my baby bat?” Marinette asked as she sat on her bed. 

“Mom never told me how you got that necklace,” She lazily pointed to the necklace that had returned to its original place on Marinette’s neck, “Can you?”

“That’s quite the story, maybe when you're older.”

“Aw, but mom said she would.”

“Did she say she’d tell you later?” 

“Uh...yes.” 

“When mom says later, she really means not for a long time.”

“Oh…”

“How about about this, in around five years-” 

“Five years!” 

“Yes, when you're 15, the age I met your mom, I’ll tell you the story.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” Charlotte held her pinkie out.

“Pinky promise.” Marinette linked her pinky with her daughter’s. 

“Okay goodnight Mom.” Charlotte snuggled into the blankets and closed her eyes. 

“Goodnight sweetie.” Marinette gave her a light kiss on the forehead. 

She made her way out of the room, silently closing the door, before making her way to her and her wife’s bedroom. She entered and heard her wife getting ready in the bathroom so she sat down on the bed and waited. 

She didn’t have to wait long as only a few minutes later her wife came out of the bathroom and sat down with her on the bed. 

“Hey what’s on your mind?” Steph asked as Marinette laid her head on her shoulder. Her hand subconsciously fiddling with the gold necklace that sat on her neck. 

“Did you tell Charlotte that you would tell her the story of how you got me the necklace?” Marinette got straight to the point, she had learned that sometimes it was much better than beating around the bush. 

“Maybe.” 

“Stephanie.” 

“What! She asked and-” 

“You should know better! The necklace has to do with how we met!” 

“Yeah but-” 

“No buts! You know we didn’t meet the most child friendly way!”

“I know, I just thought that she would forget about it after the dance.”

“I told her I would tell her when she turns 15, now she’s going to be counting down the days till then.” 

“I’m sorry Nette.”

“It’s okay Steph, I just wish we had a little time before she knew.” 

“She was going to find out eventually, at least now we have a date to prepare ourselves.” 

Marinette’s mind went back to a time where her only worries were what to wear for her next date with Stephanie. Where she didn’t have to worry about her best friend dying, or the grief that followed. 

“Come on let’s not worry about it tonight.” Steph brought her out of her stupor. 

“Yeah, goodnight Steph.”

“Goodnight Nette.”

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

You have literally no idea how long this took me to write. There will be part 2, I kinda left you guys hanging, but that won’t be for a long time. Anyways I do hope that you enjoyed, like I said in day 24 of Maribat March, Story, I will be posting 2 of these each time I come back from the dead. Now I am going to go finish school work so I don’t fail! Who knows when you’ll see me next?

@maribatmarch-2k21 

[hwrryscherry]

The one with the New Year’s Eve

characters: HARRYxMODEL Y/N

blurb: It’s Dec 31st, 2020 and this is the first time since they started dating that Harry and Model Y/n won’t be traveling for New Year’s Eve but an outing to the Rockfeller Center may be all they needed.

word count: 4.6K

author’s note: HI GUYS!!!! So first of all I wanna say MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone🥳🥳 I know I've been MIA BUT I had a major writer's block and it felt so bad and I couldn't finish this blurb even though I was trying so hard. Anyway, here it is and I hope you like it as much as I do. I also want to say that the reason why I closed my requests it's because we're starting a new year and I want to release all of my requests before receiving new ones. I'm excited for 2021 and I hope it brings all the peace that 2020 didn't. And I'm also very excited to see where 2021 will take Harry and Model Y/N's relationship🥰 Anyway, Happy New Year everyone, I'm so grateful for the support I've been receiving about my writing. I see all of you and I appreciate all of you. THANK YOU!!!♥️♥️♥️♥️

— Can I wear this? — You’d ask looking at Harry while holding one of his dress shirts that was light bluely, with some navy blue strands in it up in the air showing it to him. It's an old shirt, though. You remember buying it for Harry in your first year of dating and you also remember probably wearing it more than Harry himself.

   Harry was sitting by the couch on the living room of your NYC apartment. After spending such a magical time with your families in the French Alps, you both decided that spending christmas with your family was more of a priority than going on your annual new year's trip and that's the reason why you and Harry decided to come back to the USA and after being in LA for so long, New York just felt like the perfect choice. You like Los Angeles, but New York hit different. You loved everything about NY, and you loved the memories and story you created to yourself in NY and that's why you'd choose NY over LA without thinking twice.

   Anyway, Harry was in the couch using his personal phone what made you assume that he's probably talking to his mom or Gemma because it's already 2021 in London and Cheshire, and unlike him, you had already sent Gemma and Anne a text earlier today because they knew that you took hours to get ready even though you're not even preparing to be "glamurous".

   Harry had his pink velvet pants on and a white shirt over it, and only complementing with his vans. Not the old "white" one with the pink shoelaces that he wore everywhere, including in the Vogue cover. Tonight he was wearing the good traditional vans. That one, that is black and have the Vans icon in white. And you couldn't smell from the spot you were but you could assure yourself that he was smelling like heaven, as he always does with his perfect hair that has just been washed, his freshly shaved beard and his nails, that even though wasn't painted by a professional, you can be proud of your job and honestly, so could Harry, because he really loved that you did his nails for him and even matched with yours. Otherwise, you were using a black baggy jeans and a bra because as always, you were procrastinating for too much time and had to get ready when Harry was already ready. A typical night out for both of you.

   Harry lifted his head to analyze your figure in front of him and the cloth piece you had in your hands as he listened to your voice and question directed at him.

— Sure! — He answered your question getting his attention back to his phone right after speaking. You sighed and calmly walked towards the man on the couch and sit besides him what brought his attention to you. You rested your right hand upon his thigh and then rested your chin on his right shoulder and stared at the boys captivating green eyes.

— You're alright? — You asked with a low voice tone giving the boy a tender smile. Harry looked kinda sad, not sad, he seemed a bit down and whenever you noticed he looked like this you would usually get worried about him because you just care and love him so much that you never want to see him in anyway but happy.

— Yeah, I am! — Harry said, but it sounded more like a whisper or a murmur and you kept your gaze at him waiting for him to tell the truth and he sighed letting out a chuckle. Sometimes he'd just forget about how great you knew him. He'd look to his feet upon the grey carpet of your living room and then back at your face on his shoulder — Just feel bad, ye' know? If we were in other circumstances we'd be with our friends or family having the most fun in some place around the world — He'd tell you as he widens his eyes a little and you felt his muscles tense under your hands — It's not that I won't have fun just with you, love —  He'd now complement making you let out a small chuckle at his words because of course you understood exactly what he was saying even though you didn't say anything yet — It's just different, like, there won't be having any shows by the Times Square and all that stuff and I wanted it to be fun for you.

— So...you're worried about me not having fun tonight? — You'd ask him with an ironic tone and raised eyebrows lifting your chin from his shoulder and staring at his face. Your mocking expression and tone was based on the irony f the situation because earlier today you were talking to him about how most of the times that you were together you just felt like you could be stuck in a room with him forever and it would be the funniest thing you've ever done.

— Kinda! — He'd murmur deflecting his gaze from yours until he listened to you let out a giggle which made him look immediately at you as he tried to understand why you were laughing and if you were mocking at him for being that worried about something very silly.

— Harry...how could you even think that? I’ll always have fun with you! — You'd say lively with a smile on your lips and then take a deep breath while you finished forming the words you were about to say in your mind — It's been such a long and hard year and we had some amazing moments and some really bad moments but we're here. We're alive, we're healthy and most of all, we're here together and believe me, even if the world ends by the time that clock turns midnight, there's no other person I'd rather spend the end of the world with — You'd say making a little fun of the "end of the world" conspiracy that you've read previously on that same day and couldn't help giggling with Harry as you'd hear that same angelic sound coming from his mouth. You'd take your hand that was upon his thigh and grab his hand taking it to your lips giving a slight kiss to it feeling the cold metals of his rings against your cheeks and then you gave him a tender smile — Don't worry about it, it'll be great! It will be more than great, it'll be exquisite!

— Alright, alright! — Harry'd say with the cutest smile on his face. That type of smile that you could feel his happiness through it. Now he took your hand to his lips and gave a peck in it — You should finish getting ready though, weren't you the one that was dying for pizza and burgers? — Harry’d tell you mocking at the fact that you've been talking about wanting to eat pizza and burgers from NYC for the past three days in a row and how annoying you were being about it. And with his comment you'd fastly stand up with the shirt in your hands and look at him with a cheeky smile in your face.

— I'll go, I'm sorry for being the best girlfriend in the world and use my time to comfort you! — You'd say ironically as you walked back to the bedroom listening Harry's laugh and a "You're forgiven" being loudly said by your boyfriend.

— By the way, I don't think you should go out only with that shirt because it’s freezing outside! — Harry said on a loud tone from the living room and you'd look up to the big glass window in your bedroom and realizes that he was right. It was probably 32 °F outside and only this shirt wouldn't make you warm enough, so you'd walk to the closet placed in your bedroom and take a dark grey long sleeve blouse and dress up before complementing with Harry's dress shirt and taking out of the closet your brand new leather jacket that you gained from Gemma on christmas day, remembering how perfect it was becase Gemma knows you well enough to know that you'd love it when she bought it. And lastly, you put on shoes that looks more like boots. And finally, with your jacket and your bag in your hand you walked into the living room after turning off the bedroom light.

   You were completely ready when you'd step in the living room with your phone in your hand getting all the attention from Harry that immidietely stoped using his phone to admire you. One of the things that Harry most loved in you is that you don't need to put on the most glamurous outfit or makeup to look stunning and you knew that. You knew that you were beautiful in your own way and if you felt like glamming up, you'd be gorgeous and if you didn't feel like it, you'd still be gorgeous. Harry admired your tomboy styled outfit. He'd admire how your hair fell upon your face as you finished typing on your phone and how you'd use your hand to put a strand of hair behind your ear, giving to him the vision of your gold earrings that was also a previous birthday gift from him. He'd admire the fact that both of your nails were painted the same color because you only had one good nail polish to use so you'd go out matching nails color. He'd admire how the delicate golden rings on your fingers would sparkle because of the light in the room and he'd notice too how your face looked pretty with the small amount of makeup you had putten on your face for the night and he could only imagine how great you smelled now with the one perfume you use since the day he met you and he'd remember how much he loves that scent. He loved everything about you. He loved even the small things about you that stressed the shit out of him. He learned to love your annoying habits just as much as he loved the precious little things about you.

   Harry would stand up from the couch putting his phone on the inner pocket of his black coat as he walked towards your distracted self on the phone. You'd only notice him when he'd stop right beside you looking at your figure. You'd stop looking at the screen of your phone and lift your head up a bit to see the man's smiley face beside you. He was silent and it seemed awkward so you'd let out a chuckle and frown a little at him.

— What are you doing? — You'd ask him holding a mistrusting look on your face as you waited for him to pronouce anything as a response.

— I just think that you look really pretty and I love you! And your hair looks really pretty, though — Harry would say quietly with a tender smile on his face as he listened you murmur a "aw, thank you, love!" with the biggest smile on your lips. He knew how much you loved when he compliments your hair so he'd do it often just to make you smile this big. He'd use his hands to cup your face and lean in a little to give you a peck in the lips — Let's get going! Where do you want to go first?

— Honestly, I wish we went to The Greens at Pier 17 because it looked really cute this year in the pics I saw — You'd tell him as both of you walked towards the door and left the apartment walking to the elevator as you both put on your masks. Your apartment was situated in East Village so depending on the place you'd choose to go, it would take you a while to get there and that's the reason why neither of you had enough patience to drive in NYC, specially on a night like this one because the traffic in New York can be considerated out of this world.

— Isn't it open? — Harry would ask pressing the elevator button to take you to the lobby of the building and feel as the elevator started to go down with both of you in it.

— No, it was between 6 and 10pm, I guess! — You said pressing your back agaisnt the elevator wall as you felt it going down. It's crazy, but whenever you enter a elevator you think about what would happen if it starts collapsing, yes, it's weird — But all I want is to eat a pizza from East Village Pizza because I haven't eaten it in ages — You'd complement letting out a chuckle feeling the elevator stops at the lobby floor.

— Alright, we can go eat pizza and just hang out! Will you be meeting Bella? — Harry said as the elevator door opened giving both of you the iluminated vision of the streets lights coming through the big glasses in the front of the building. You and Harry walked past the porter and both of you smile at him and waved before leaving. You both are very familiar to Toby, the porter of your building and that's the reason why you'd wish him a Happy New Year before leaving, and you also have lived in this building in the past 5 years probably.

— No, she’ll spend it with her family. They’ll all spend it together because of the baby, I guess — You'd answer him feeling the freezing air run through the skin of your face at the moment you'd step in the street. You'd notice the wet floor underneath you because it rained the entire morning and the beginning of the afternoon, there was no resting sign of the snow that happened some days ago but you could definetly still notice the past rain, specially because of all the christmas lights that iluminated the streets now.

   You and Harry walked your way to the East Village Pizza because it was really close to your house which at this moment seems amazing but it's not. It takes you a lot of control to not dine their pizza everyday though. Pizza it's pizza, if you don't like pizza you can't even be consideraded a human being, just saying.

   You and Harry could notice the few people leaving their houses as you walked, and some of them were already by the streets though. The thing is that the big New Year's Eve attraction in New York is the Ball Drop in Times Square and this year is not allowed to have a crowd in there so the streets wasn't completely crowed and honestly that made you feel a little better. It's just that paranoic feeling that when you're around a lot of people you start thinking that one of them is infected, probably everyone during this pandemic had felt like this at some point.

By the moment you and Harry arrived at the pizzeria and ordered your slices of pizza Harry couldn't hold back his laughs at your liveliness that you also couldn't hold back for finally eating your pizza. The place wasn't as crowed as it used to be at this time of the night and that's why you and Harry could take a sit in one of their empty tables. You and him would talk about silly things. You both would talk about the ending of Gossip Girl that you had just watched this afternoon because it was shocking to both of you. You'd talk about the songs you just added at your playlist and you'd talk about what you wanted to do tomorrow on the first day of the year.

— I don't accept any other plan that you can make but if it's to stay cuddling in bed with me all day, love — Harry would say and you'd giggle at his words. He had a point though, because you couldn't imagine anything better to do tomorrow than stay cuddled up in bed under the heavy blankets with him all day long; maybe watching a movie or starting a new tv show together as you just finished gossip girl, you'd probably starts Bridgerton because you have already read the books and you loved it. And then take as many naps as you wanted. It sounded perfect and he knew you just couldn't resist to it.

   It didn't take too much for both of you to eat your pizza slices and as you ate it, Harry would take tons of photos from you all smiley eating your pizza while dancing to a random song that was playing in the background of the pizzeria. Harry loved to take random pics of you and he'd do it everytime he had a chance, which was quite often. But he did it because this way, whenever he was away and his heart ached missing you, he could go on his gallery and see all the random pics he has from you and in some way feel closer to his girl and god, so did you. Even though none of you shared the millions of photos you'd have of each other's in your phones, it felt so good to have them with you whenever you needed it to make your hearts warmer.

                  ��                     ...

— Alright but, do you think that Brad and Angelina slept together before or after he and Jen "broke up"? — You'd randomly ask Harry as you both left the cab that was taking both of you to the Rockefeller Center because a walk from East Village to Rockefeller Center would be a hell of a walk. You both felt the christmas lights on your faces and your eyes were glowing because of them and you couldn't think of a prettier thing in this moment. It wasn't your plan to celebrate the New Year's Eve in New York and actually, the last time you've celebrated it in this city was about four years about before you even met Harry. And honestly, it just feel really cool to go ice skating in Rockfeller Center and then later go dinner somewhere and starts 2021 with a person that you really loved and appreciate on a city that you really loved, and maybe this wasn't what you planned but it was what you needed.

— They definetely were! — Harry said almost immidietely making you let out a loud laugh over his comment. You love when Harry gets into his gossiping mode, it's probably the best thing ever. He doesn't do it much when he's sober, but when he's drunk he'd just say everything you ask him and that's usually really funny, expect for sometimes when he'd tell things that are supposed to be a secret — Just look at their movie together. You could see the sexual tension and no one will convice me otherwise!

— I know but he had a sexual tension with all his co-stars! Don't you remember Legends of the fall? He had a sexual tension with his brother's fiancé that later marries his other brother — You'd argue back to him as making your point. You and Harry are definetely the "Netflix & Chill" type of couple, and as in quarantine you stayed home, you and Harry watched tons of movies on netflix and you'd always take your time to discuss them pretty often. Movies, music and books are the things that fullfill both of your souls the most and that's the reason why you'd often get caught up on discussing the things you've saw.

— It wasn't sexual tension, it was chemistry. It's different, love! — Harry'd argue back throwing his arm upon your shoulders as you both walked closer to the small line of people that were waiting to go ice skating. And you'd stop walking as realizing that you and him just arrived at the right spot and as you waited on the line of the ice skating, you had your back pressed on Harry's chest as he hugged you from behind to take the cold away as you talked. It was a nice time where you could just catch up about your thoughts while admiring the christmas lights and the people on the rink, and if you must confess, laugh a little about the people that couldn't ice skate. Harry told you about his plans to release the Treat People with Kindness music video tomorrow and talked about working with Phoebe Waller-Bridge and had to deal with your drama about not meeting her for what it seems like the millionth time, but you did make it pretty clear to him that you were so excited about the video because you haven't watched it yet because you wanted it to be a new year's surprise to you. You told him about how you missed walking the runaway and everything you want to do in 2021 in your professional career and also personal life, like the books and movies you wanted to read and watch and the places you wanted to visit.

   Anyway, it didn't take you long to get on the ice skating rink, and it also didn't take you more than two minutes to start regretting it. You were clearly not the best skater in the world. You weren't even 50% good; reasonable, would be the right term. And so, when you didn’t have the ability to move gracefully and lightly across the ice, and instead had to skate by holding on to the bars or Harry's arm and then after, having Harry insisting on trying to let you skate alone and then having you to crash into on the floor, Harry couldn't help but laugh. The boy laughed so hard, in a way where he couldn't even breathe properly from laughing so much, and you couldn't contain your own laughs either. Of course, Harry helped you up and then asked you a thousand times if you were okay and you hadn't been hurt, but the scene was just too fun at the moment not to laugh and you'd admit it.

   At around 11:20 pm, you both retired from the skating rink as your time was up and then, you walked away from the short line to the ice skating rink getting a little far away from the line. You used your right hand to move some strands of hair from your face as Harry carefully looked at you.

— You're sure you're alright? — Harry asked one last time making you glare at him with an annoyed look at your face becase he had already asked this about forty times now. He'd shrug his shoulders and put his hands inside the pockets of his black coat — Alright, you're fine.

— I am, love! — You said wrapping your arms around yourself while moving your head to look around you before getting your gaze to focus on Harry's face again — Should we go to a restaurant? Because it's almost midnight! — You asked Harry that looked the time as he took his phone off his pocket to see that the clock indicated the time to be 11:25 pm.

— Yeah let's go! And it's cold here! — He'd say wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both started to walk again. The things is that near Rockefeller Center, there was plenty of cool and great restaurants that of course you had no idea if they were or not open but it didn't cost you to go check and that's why you'd walk around it to see — Oh, let's go to Bill's Bar and Burger. I want nachos and fries so bad — Harry would say as he stopped walking abruptly in front of the restaurant making you to gaze at the place and then at him.

— Oh my god, yes! — You'd nod at him as you both walked inside the place. You've been in it before and the menu was spectacular, the burgers were so amazing and the place was really cool, though. It had a dark wooden floor and tables and big glass windows that gave you the perfect vision from outside and at the moment you both entered the space you noticed that it wasn't extremely crowed but it had a few people. The televisions in the walls transmitted the Times Square New Year's Eve performances and you sat at the table in the corner of the wall with a padded accent.

You'd take a look at the menu and order. Harry'd order a alcoholic beverage, unlike you that'd go with a coke because if your boyfriend went wasted you needed to take him home and take a 6'0 foot taller man home after few drinks can be quite hard. You'd order fries and nachos for Harry because he just eats fish now and then orders a chicken burger for you and then some milkshakes because you were going to eat all that you wanted as it was the last day of the year.

While your orders were being prepared, you and Harry talked about the christmas trip with your families and how funny it was. You'd talk about how the hell could you both forget about the christmas presents and how thank god you could find good new presents in the last minute. Harry would probably tell you about a life story of his starting by "in my epoch" sounding like he was forty years older than you because he knows that this pissed you off. He's three years older. It's not like it's a lifetime. But you'd find fun on his stories, just like he does to yours because even though you're younger than him, you both came from different sides of the world. From completely different families and cultures and it's so cool to share your experiences with each other. With the time, you and Harry learned that everyone had something to add in your life. Something about art, or about bad feelings or good feelings. Something about love, about friendship and jobs and opportunities. You both would reflect about how you just find things and people in life that makes you whole. You grow older and start noticing what really matters. You and Harry always travel on New Year and this year you didn't and being there, on a bar in New York just with each other having the most fun as you shared your stories, made you realize that it's not about the trip or the journey. It's about the person you have on your side as you doing those things. It's about having someone that you love at your side to share the good and the bad and after a hard year, you're lucky for having each other and getting out of it stronger than ever.

When the countdown started, everyone in the bar starting to count as well. You used your phone to record both you and Harry as you both counted. The camera caught the big smile perfectly that you and Harry had on your faces, and it actually caught the cheese from the french fries that Harry was previously eating right in the corner of his mouth but we don't have to focus on this part just yet. When the clock turned midnight, the entire bar screamed happily and you and Harry turned to each other with the happiest smiles ever, hugging each other sharing the "Happy New Year" and then sharing your first kiss of 2021, just as you both did three years ago when the clock turned midnight entering 2018 and you both shared the first kiss of your life. You've been kissing since then.

[boymeetsweevil]

in your court

Grouping: Reader x B-ball player!Jaehyun (feat. BFF!Hyuck)

Word Count: ~10.8k

Warnings/Themes: Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

Prompt: “awkward!oc with his basketball teammate jaehyun. Honestly anything with bff!haechan.”

“Make sure you don’t make it look shaky.”

Donghyuck puts the phone camera close to his face so he can better see your handiwork through the video call. He looks a bit like a fish, but you can’t see him because you’re focused on the mirror in front of you.

“Remind me why I’m being forced to do this?”

“Because I’m your best friend and I deserve a sign just as much as Jisung and Johnny.”

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes so you don’t mess up the number 14 you’re drawing carefully onto your cheek in eyeliner. Although you hate to see good makeup go to waste, you’re trying to be a better friend while also trying not to accidentally write the number backwards. It’s Donghyuck’s new number this season and he begged you to show some team spirit despite the fact that you normally mix with sports the same way oil mixes with water. The last time you showed up at practice was the first day of the season and you fell from the third courtside bleacher after Donghyuck called you over to introduce you to a cute new walk-on team member. If anything, just being around sports is dangerous for you.

A minute later, you sneeze while holding the pencil and draw a huge line straight through all your hard work. Donghyuck literally screams and you hang up the call to focus. When you finally finish redrawing on the side of your face, there’s half an hour left before the first home game of the spring season starts. You grab the matching construction paper sign you made earlier, complete with a huge gold glitter 14, and head out the door.  Taeyong is supposed to pick you up so you can make it to the gym on time. He’s the only other friend you have who is remotely associated with sports and that’s only because he’s dating one of the players, Doyoung.

The ticket Donghyuck gave you days ago places you near the court’s side with a near-perfect view. You settle in and wait for the game to begin. The team is already out on half of the court, doing some light warmup tosses and making the occasional mean eye at the visiting team practicing on the other half. You catch your best friend’s eye and he lights up when he sees the sign and eyeliner drawing.

“Check me out, Hyuck!” 

You turn to give him a full view of your profile, subtly proud of your skills.

“Look at you,” he drawls as he jogs over to you, “You know, I think this is the best your eyeliner has ever looked.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” 

You try your best to cast an elbow at him without disturbing the still slightly wet glitter on the sign. When you nearly take out the old man sitting directly in front of you, you settle for flipping him off.

“Wait,” Taeyong peers at the sign, “Aren’t you—”

“I think Doyoung said he was looking for you. Something about wanting a good luck kiss.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes but still stands up to go look for said boyfriend. Doyoung’s not the nervous type, but he’s also not the type to say no to some pre-game affection. You watch Taeyong disappear towards the locker room while Donghyuck steps over some of the fans already seated and takes the now open spot next to you.

“Hey,” he says with no trace of humor in his voice any longer. “Promise you’ll still be my friend after this game?”

You place the sign on your lap and turn to look at your friend. Lately the coach has been pushing him harder and you suppose it’s starting to wear down his usual confidence. With the hand that’s not covered in little golden glitter flecks, you reach down to rub his shoulder.

“Of course I will, Hyuck. And even if you guys don’t win tonight, I’m still taking you to get food after. My treat.”

It was supposed to be a rare moment of sincere friendliness. But this seems to distress him further because he looks down at your hand on his arm and then groans before covering his face in his hands. You’re confused but you don’t have any time to ask him what’s up. A few of his teammates walk over then.

“Sorry to break up the love fest, but Coach wants us to do some stretches before the whistle,” team captain Johnny says, gesturing to the other side of the gym where some other players are already contorting themselves. 

Behind Johnny stands that new walk-on. The one you fell on your face in front of. He takes in your temporary face tattoo and overly detailed sign and smirks, allowing a dimple to wink at you. You can only hope to every deity in the universe that he doesn’t remember the way you first met.

“Hey,” he smiles good-naturedly. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece.” 

“Thank you,” you say with way too much sincerity.

It’s enough to knock Donghyuck out of his bad mood and make him snort loudly beside you. The new guy smiles a bit wider, revealing a twin dimple. You look away.

“Don’t get too friendly, Jung,” Donghyuck says with fake menace in his voice. “There’s only room for one Dream Team member in her life, and that’s me.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you guys were—”

“We’re just friends,” you blurt out before looking down at the fascinating liver spots on the old man’s head in front of you.

“Yeah, she wishes.”

“I definitely don’t,” you snap.

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Well, I’m glad you don’t.” 

“Guys, come on!” Johnny calls a moment before the coach’s whistle blows to give a final warning.

As they walk over to the side of the gym you curse yourself for acting so weird in front of that Jung kid. If he didn’t think you were a dope when you tripped over nothing the first time you met, you’re certain he thinks you have the charms of a 13 year-old boy by now. The only thing that snaps you out of it is the fact that Donghyuck is in a time of distress and clearly needs his friend. 

With squared shoulders and a new sense of duty, you try your hardest to be the world’s best cheerleader. You’re not really sure how sports work, basketball included. The game itself turns out to be really fun. Even though you’re not quite sure what’s happening. Taeyong sends you a text with a picture of your own mildly confused face contorted into a pout as you raise your handmade sign a moment too late, after everyone has already sat back down. But eventually you figure it out after enough times of standing when people around you wearing school colors stand up first. You know enough to cheer every time Donghyuck takes the ball to the basket and boo loudly every time he gets knocked down or his shot misses. In fact, you get so into it that you catch yourself cheering for other players. You even make the mistake of cheering once for new kid Jung but immediately stop when he catches a glimpse of you in the stands and shoots you a beaming smile. 

They win by a small margin, thanks to a 3 pointer Johnny shot in the first half of the game. By the time that happens, you feel like you have a good feel for the game. You don’t have to wait for the other fans from your school to stand up when the last buzzer rings, and you instinctively run out onto the court with the rest of them as the final score settles. There’s adrenaline and joy pushing you into Donghyuck’s arms. He’s genuinely surprised but welcomes the greeting, spinning you lightly while he laughs.

“Congrats on the first win of the season,” you shout when you finally pull back. He lets you squish his cheeks in excitement. Doyoung ambles over then, looking for Taeyong. You offer him congratulations as well.

“Thanks,” he smirks a bit as he takes in your large sign and the slightly smudged 14 on your cheek. “Shouldn’t Jaehyun be the first to hear it, though?”

You raise a confused brow.

“Shouldn’t I be the first to hear what?”

You can’t help the way you stumble back against Donghyuck at the deep sound of Jung—no— Jaehyun’s voice. He looks pleased. Probably with the outcome of their first game.

“I was just saying you should get the first ‘congrats’,” Doyoung explains, nodding in your direction. Jaehyun blinks, but takes it in stride.

“I’d be glad to receive it,” he says with a grin. His dimples pop out even more than usual under the sheen of sweat and the glow from the fluorescents. “So, what’d you think? How’d I do?”

You have no idea why but your heart is beating like it’ll fly out of your chest. It takes everything in you to muster up a cool and natural response.

“You throw good.”

Donghyuck, the traitor that he is, gets sent into a cackling fit. If you listen carefully, between the gasps for air and the hyena-pitched giggles you can hear him calling you a dork. You’d turn to yell at him, but he’s right. Doyoung barely covers up his own laughter while leaning on Donghyuck’s shoulder to try to disguise the sound as a series of coughs. But Jaehyun merely smiles down at his shoes as if he’s somehow moved by your clunky words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, I feel like I did well today thanks to your little sign.”

“The sign? Oh. Actually, this is for—” 

In that moment you realize two things. The first is that Jaehyun’s jersey has a big 14 emblazoned on the front of it. Just like the one you spent 10 whole minutes drawing onto your right cheek. And the one you spent 2 hours glittering the night before. The second is that you aren’t nearly as observant as you thought you were. Then you realize a third thing: Donghyuck is slowly creeping away from you as it all clicks together in your head.

When you turn to face your friend, the color has already drained out of his neck. He can see the wheels turning in your head and he raises his hands in a placating gesture, but you cut him off before he can even start. Grabbing at his jersey you make him turn around until you can see the white number 6 emblazoned on the fabric. It’s the same number he had last season, and the season before that.

“Just to clarify,” you begin with an unsettlingly calm voice, “When you asked me earlier if I would still be your friend after the game, you were talking about this, right?”

Donghyuck’s eyes go wide and dart around anywhere but your face. “You know what? I think you’re thinking of my brother, Hyongduck. We look a lot alike, so it’s an honest mistake.”

The coach calling him over in that moment is the only thing that keeps you from eviscerating him on the court with so many witnesses. You let him go, but not without him having to un-pry your fingers from his jersey. Jaehyun watches on with amusement in his eyes and you remember that he saw you nearly Hulk out on your friend.

“So, you actually didn’t know my number was 14?”

You shake your head, “I thought it was Hyuck’s.”

“I see.”

He tilts his head again, with eyes narrowed he looks you over before looking past you to where Donghyuck has finally made it to locker room safety.

“Well,” he fiddles with the chain around his neck, “I’m kind of sad the sign isn’t actually mine.”

“Oh. I mean, you can keep it if you want.”

Jaehyun’s head ducks down a second time, shaking his head at the ground like he heard something funny that you couldn’t hear. He does take the sign out of your hands though. With slow hands, he wraps the construction paper up until all the remaining glitter is safely tucked away.

“What about that one?”

“What do you mean?”

He points at his own cheek to mirror yours. You had forgotten all about the 14 you drew on your face to go with the sign.

“I don’t—I don’t know if you can wrap this one up, you know” you laugh stiltedly.

“Yeah. But I could always take a bit for the road. May I?”

All you can do is let out an eloquent ‘huh’ before he’s reaching out then and swiping away at some of the eyeliner that had moved around during the game. The drag of the pad of his thumb across your cheek should be completely harmless. Donghyuck has been infinitely rougher with his handling of you; one of the privileges of close friendship. And yet it’s this soft touch that has your breath leaving you like he punched it out of you. You swear the corner of his mouth raises, but it could be a trick of the light.

“What are you doing after—”

“I gotta go, sorry. Good game,” you toss over your shoulder before pulling your phone up to your ear like you’re taking a sudden phone call. 

No one has to know that you spend the next few minutes dunking your head under one of the running faucets in an empty locker room to cool your heated face.

---

Nearly 20 minutes later, Donghyuck is tiptoeing out of the men’s locker room. He doesn’t notice the shadow waiting for him. When he deems the coast all clear, he opens up his messaging app and shoots you a text asking for your whereabouts.

“I’m right here.”

He jumps nearly 3 feet in the air before letting the scream that built in his throat turn into a whine. You’re just barely visible in the dark corner of the gym. If he squints you look a bit like his sleep paralysis demon.

“You scared me,” he says as he takes a step back only to hit a wall.

“Funny how that happens.”

You pull out your phone, stilling standing in the dark, and let the light from your phone cast eerie shadows across your face. Donghyuck gulps audibly as he watches you type slowly in response to his text. The sound of his phone notification moments later sounds deafening in the otherwise silent space.

You (21:39) - Run.

“Look, let’s talk this out like adults.” His hands come up, palms exposed like you’re a feral animal.

“I knew you weren’t number 14,” your voice is steady and devoid of emotion as you take a step towards him.

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen for it—shit. Wait!”

He trips in his haste to get away from you and falls. You foot lands dangerously close to his face as you come to stand in over him and he grimaces.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything.”

“Why did you tell me your number was Jaehyun’s number? Make it good and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“I just felt like it.”

“What the hell!”

“I’m serious.”

“Wrong answer, Hyuck.”

With that, you wriggle a foot free from one of your sneakers and shove your socked foot over his nose. You’ve been wearing the shoes all day and, because you forgot to do laundry the night before, the socks are recycled. The sound of Donghyuck’s cries for help make you slightly better and you smile softly to yourself.

You would think that Donghyuck would have learned his lesson about not causing chaos in your life after a face-full of foot. But you should know that it’s practically his job description after knowing him for as long as you have. Sometimes you love that about him and sometimes you kind of hate him for it. This time, you hate him for it. 

Donghyuck prefaces the outing as a way of apologizing for tricking you. Normally you would have been slightly more critical. The first thing to tip you off should have been the fact the “apology" in question was coming almost two and a half weeks after the fateful jersey swap accident. The second thing should have been that the “apology” was coming in the form of a trip to a very specific tea house you don’t frequent because you’re not a tea person. And Donghyuck knows this. Because he knows everything else about you. Like which sweatpants you wear when you’re feeling bloated or when you just need a hug. But mainly you should have known something was up because it was Donghyuck. When he feels like he should do something, there’s no stopping him.

“What do you want to order,” he asks while holding the front door open for you to pass through. 

“A smoothie.”

“It’s a damn tea house, order something normal.”

“A smoothie is normal.”

“Do you order hot dogs at seafood restaurants too,” he pins you with a tired glare. You mirror the glare and add crossed arms.

“If they don’t have a smoothie, then I don’t want anything.”

You take a look around at the interior of the shop. It’s the polar opposite of the shops you usually frequent, which are all trendy with their mixes of dark, unfinished woodwork and sleek minimalist furniture. This place is almost cottage-like in the ornateness of the older architecture and the collection of kitschy antique pieces. You’re not surprised to see that a good deal of the patrons are older, some verging on elderly. There’s only a handful of people who look like they could be your peers. One of them looks oddly familiar. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something familiar about the way he stands and the delicate gold links laying across the back of his neck.

“Jaehyun,” Donghyuck calls a bit too excitedly, “Hey, man is that you? What are you doing here”

“You told me to meet you—” Donghyuck cuts him off with a dramatic gasp and a glance at his bare wrist.

“Aw, would you look at the time. I actually have somewhere to be right now, so I can’t stick around.”

“But you drove us here,” you whip your head around to look at him, but he coughs suddenly and looks away.

“Yeah, sorry. No time to drop you back off at your place, so I guess you have to figure that out yourself. Jae drives though. Maybe you can figure something out.”

Neither of you really know what to say. You watch silently with your mouth open in disbelief as Donghyuck turns on his heel and struts out of the tea shop exit, whistling contentedly. You suppose that if you’re the god of chaos reincarnated, all of this would feel like a good day’s work. You berate yourself for recently washing your socks.

“Good to see you again,” Jaehyun says after a beat. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thought I had scared you off after...yeah.”

“Oh, right. That.”

The air feels both too thick and too thin at the same time. You want to leave, every fiber of your being is screaming at you to leave before you do something weird in front of him again. But you can’t move. So you stand there, 3 feet away and not saying anything as Jaehyun looks over the large chalkboard menu hanging above the head of the older woman who is manning the front counter.

“What are you getting?”

“Me? Uh, I don’t know. I’m not really a tea person.”

“Well, what kind of person are you?”

Given the context, it’s a harmless question. But there’s a sing-songy lilt to the way he asks the question. It’s so blatant that curiosity gets the best of you and you stop purposefully avoiding looking at him. One of his dimples is out and he’s very nearly poking the tip of his tongue out at you, like he knows you’re suffering and he thinks it's funny. Almost like he’s flirting. Almost.

“I’m a smoothie person,” you finally say. “But there’s no smoothies on the menu.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“But doesn’t it say ‘no customizations’?” 

There’s a sign on the edge of the counter that says just that. Despite the fact that it’s written in beautiful, looping cursive, there’s an ominous tone to the message. Like the little old lady behind the counter might actually make you into tea if you asked for a frappe or something. You’re a little worried for Jaehyun’s safety. He must sense some sort of hesitance because he brushes it off and gestures toward the rest of the shop.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it, you can go grab us a table.”

The way he says ‘us’ so casually has you tripping slightly over nothing. He’s somehow there in the nick of time to grab at your elbow in a gentlemanly fashion to help steady you. Perhaps you yank yourself out of his proximity a little too quickly. But it’s only because you really want to find a good table and you can’t do that if Jaehyun is distracting you by grabbing at your limbs. 

In actuality, though, the tea shop is fairly vacant. There are a variety of tables with pressed white tablecloths and dainty tiered tea trays housing pastries. You pick one at random and sit down. Part of you really does wish you’d left when Donghyuck did. But the other part is curious to see what Jaehyun’s like when he’s away from his team and truly outside the context you usually find him in. So you compromise and watch as subtly as you can.

He seems fairly similar—all charming smiles and pretty hair while approaching the counter to talk with the lady you assume is the owner of the shop. She looks stern as she polishes some dainty bone china, but brightens when he comes to the counter. You watch in quiet awe as she reaches a hand up to pat fondly at the side of his face, most likely pinching a cheek from the angle you’re sitting at. You see him run a hand over the back of his neck which grows red after he says something to her that she must not like. Her brow grows heavy and her lips purse but he says something else then that has her directing her sharp gaze at you. You gulp and pretend you were merely admiring the tea sandwich tray on the table as opposed to spying. A wave of sudden embarrassment comes over you and you open up your phone to text Donghyuck

You (15:38) - this is a shit apology just so u know

You (15:38) - come get me plz

Hyuck (15:40) - sorry suddenly cant read dont know what that says :)

You place your phone face down onto the table and cross your arms with a huff. While trying to plan an escape that makes you look the least asshole-y possible, Jaehyun returns with the drinks. More specifically, he returns with a tall water glass in one hand that’s filled with a pale tea with fruit chunks and mint leaves sprinkled throughout. The other hand is encased in a floral appliqué oven mitt that holds the prettiest squat little teapot you’ve ever seen. It’s blue, so it doesn’t match the pastel green teacups organized on the tablecloth, but it’s still a lovely sight.

“What’s this,” you stir at the fruit in the glass with an elegant teaspoon.

“It’s a chilled fruit tea,” he explains while casually pouring himself a steaming cup of black tea. “I tried my hardest with Mrs. Li, but there was no way I was gonna get you a smoothie. This is the closest thing I could get.”

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I would have been fine with just a water. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the owner.”

“Don’t worry. I think my reputation is fine for now.”

It’s weirdly fascinating to watch him fix up his tea. As a member of a basketball team, you would have never thought he’d be a tea drinker. Let alone a tea drinker who takes heaping spoonfuls of sugar to go with a tiny splash of milk in his tea. He hums a little to himself as he stirs it all with a silver spoon that’s been crafted to look like roses are growing up the stem. When he looks up a moment later, he catches you staring at him. His eyes crinkle and they look like they did when he looked at you after shooting a 3 at the latest home game, full of quiet joy. Both then and now you’re not sure what the smile means or why it seems to be for you. You look down and realize his lips are moving.

“What?”

He chuckles at how far away you sound. “I said ‘how’s the tea?’”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know yet. I got distracted. I was...thinking.”

“Mhm.” There’s smugness practically oozing out of his thoughtful hum.

You take a sip to appease him and frantically search for something to say that won’t make it obvious that you aren’t a fan of tea, but then you stop yourself. It’s no smoothie, but it really is the next best thing. The tea is cold like a smoothie, providing the same reprieve from the sticky heat of Spring. The tea with all its macerated berries and mint leaves is sweet and thick much like a smoothie.

“This is amazing,” you peer down at the cup like you’re not sure where half the glass went.

A light weight lands on your shoulder then. “That’s very kind of you, dear. High praise coming from a non-tea-drinker.”

It takes a lot of effort not to scream and even then your eyes open comically wide and you jump in your seat. Jaehyun has to disguise his laughter at your reaction by turning away in his seat as you turn in yours to face the old lady who was at the counter.

“I’m sorry for any trouble you went to so you could make this, Mrs. Li, Ma’am. I told Jaehyun that I wanted a smoothie and he was just trying to make me feel comfortable.”

“Oh, I know. Jaehyun’s been coming to the shop since I opened it, so he should know all about my ban on requests.” Mrs. Li eyes Jaehyun as he takes an innocent sip of his tea. “He’s always been courteous about it, so I thought he must have a darn good reason for breaking my rule this time.”

Jaehyun’s hand slips while pouring a second cup, but he doesn’t say anything as Mrs. Li continues to expose him. 

“Now, that reminds me. Jaehyun, my boy, I’m sorry to tell you that Kevin won’t be coming to his sessions this week. He has a dentist appointment and it can’t be helped,” she sighs and waves her hands.

“That’s alright. As long as he practices a little every day he should be in good shape and we can pick up right where we stopped.”

She nods and for a moment the serious expression on her face morphs into something softer. Patting the back of his chair, she looks over the table and then at you.

“Alright. I hope everything is to your liking, but if something does come up do feel free to tell Jaehyun. He’s a very capable young man and he knows the shop like the back of his hand. I’d better get back to work now. The silver won’t polish itself.”

You wait a few beats to be respectful, but as soon as Mrs. Li returns to her post behind the counter you gulp down the rest of your tea and lean in. 

“Who’s Kevin?”

“Her 9 year old grandson. I teach him and his younger brother piano on the weekends.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s nice,” you nod coolly. At least, you hope it appears cool. Internally you’re scrambling.

Of course your best friend’s basketball teammate teaches piano to young kids. Of course he helps the elderly tea shop lady with her store. Of course he drinks sweet tea out of blue floral teacups. Of course.

He’s finally ready to go after a third cup. You’re not sure where he’s putting it all, but it seems to be a regular occurrence for him. He takes your glass from you before you can argue about your own ability to do it and walks back over to the counter. Now more than ever you wish you could read lips. He goes around the counter to wash the glass in the farmer’s sink in the back and then stops briefly to say something to Mrs. Li. She says something back with a smile that has his cheeks flaming. He leaves a bill on the counter and comes back mumbling about his tea being too hot when you stare at his face. You’re not sure how true that is given how fast he downed those cups.

When you emerge from the tea shop, the sun is shining from a different angle and the temperature has mellowed out.

“My car is a few blocks that way,” he points in the direction of the parking lot nearby. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Even with his soft tone, his voice is firm and you don’t try to fight him on it.

But it’s strange walking with Jaehyun silently. It feels entirely too companionable despite the fact that you don’t even know him. 

“Do you...want to play 20 questions?”

He stops in his tracks, clearly not expecting you to talk without him coaxing you out of your shell. But after the initial shock fades, he nods.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“White,” he says immediately. “What’s your major?”

“Studio art. Do you play other sports?”

“Nah. Is Donghyuck your best friend?”

“Yeah, Hyuck’s my best friend.”

“Is he...protective?”

“Protective? Of what?”

“You, I guess.”

“Hyuck?” You let out a snort because the thought is just hilarious. “On the right day I’m pretty sure he’d sell me to Satan for a fresh order of sweet potato fries.”

“I see,” he purses his lips like he’s in deep thought before returning back to the present moments later. “You get two since I asked two.”

“Do you like it here, now that it’s been a while since you transferred?”

“Yeah,” he looks you in the eyes. “I like it here.”

You swallow a bit too audibly but power through and keep asking questions. It takes nearly half an hour to walk the two and a half blocks leading to the parking lot. Even after that, Jaehyun takes a scenic route back to the main campus. When he pulls up outside your dorm, you’re not sure what to say, but it feels like something should be said. The sun is near setting and he’s haloed by the dying rays as he leans on the steering wheel to make sure you make it inside.

After giving a little awkward nod, you drag yourself out of the cabin of his car. There’s only a few steps left until you reach the door when he calls out. You turn.

“So,” he trails off, drumming his hands on the steering wheel before adjusting the mirror even though he’s in park and no one is coming. “Donghyuck has, like, a million fans.”

“What?”

“I just mean that he’s been on the team for years, he has a fan base. But I’m just a transfer student, so I don’t have that. And, you know, it’s really nice to have someone to cheer for you.” He tests the waters and looks at you hesitantly before continuing. “I still have your poster.”

All you can do is blink as you realize what’s going on. Or, you think you know what’s going on. And it makes zero sense to you, but you have a habit of overthinking things anyway. You kick at a pebble near the toe of your shoe, taking some time to muster up the courage to be presumptuous in a way you’re not used to.

“I can...I can make you another sign. If you want. Or like wear your number.” He grins and in that moment it seems to outshine the fading sun. “So you don’t feel left out.”

“I’d like that.” He starts the car up then, still grinning as he looks down to shift gears and adjust all his mirrors yet again. “Tell Hyuck he doesn’t need to set aside tickets anymore.”

“Okay,” is your witty reply before turning once more with a too warm face.

He waves at your retreating back before putting the car into drive.

Everyone on the team knows that every once in a while Donghyuck likes to come to practice a lot earlier than is probably normal. It’s not strange to come in when there’s 30, 40, even 50 minutes before practice starts and find him practicing footwork or doing layups on the court alone. 

Jaehyun hedges a guess that he’ll find Donghyuck in the gym a good hour before practice starts one day and is pleased to find that his intuition was correct. There’s music blasting from a portable speaker and Donghyuck is doing some of the drills the coach likes to run, but done with his non-dominant hand.

When the ball rolls to a stop and Donghyuck moves to get some water, Jaehyun announces himself.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“You quitting already?”

“Not yet,” Donghyuck takes in the serious set of Jaehyun’s jaw and shoulders. “We can do a 1-on-1. If you’re up for it.”

Jaehyun nods and sheds his outer layers on the sidelines. Donghyck wonders if he’s angry about something, perhaps that about practice a few days ago where he went a little too hard on Jaehyun and bashed his cheek with an elbow during a scrimmage. He braces himself for some incoming aggression, knowing he may deserve it a little.

They settle for leaving the ball on the ground in the paint since the equipment cabinet is still locked until the coach arrives. Both of them sprint from the freethrow line, with Jaehyun grabbing the ball first. Donghyuck moves into defense easily, having been in game mode for who knows how long. Jaehyun isn’t nearly as tough in his offense as Donghyck expected. In fact, he’s playing surprisingly light.

“What’s up with you,” Donghyuck says after the first basket.

Jaehyun catches the ball after it falls from the basket, jogging it back to the starting position. Donghyuck waits for him back at the freethrow line, brows raised but otherwise silent.

“Nothing’s up. Nothing big, I mean.”

“You’re a pretty bad liar.”

The words catch Jaehyun by surprise and he stumbles a bit coming off the line. Donghyuck uses the momentary shock to his advantage and steals the ball. The point comes easy as he basically runs a circle around his competitor.

“Since I won that point, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Donghyuck doesn’t bother going back to the freethrow line and instead goes back to dribbling practice. His rhythm is slow with his off hand, but steady. Better than Jaehyun’s with his off hand.

“Do you believe in bro code?”

Donghyuck snorts. “I guess. You’re not gonna ask me for my mom’s phone number, are you?”

“No. Not your mom’s,” Jaehyun trails off.

Instantly Donghyuck knows what this is about. Or who. Your face flashes in his mind and he has to bite his own cheek to keep from laughing. Being your best friend gives him exclusive access to just how awkward you can be. But the fact that Jaehyun resorted to all this buildup is kind of hilarious.

“Aw, you guys are cute.”

“What?” Jaehyun’s cheeks grow pink. “Why is this cute?” 

“Look, you don’t need to ask me first or do whatever this is. I’m not her keeper. And I’m not gonna sabotage you, either.” Jaehyun’s shoulders lose some of their squared off edge.

“Okay,” he nods. “Thanks, man.”

“I could use a favor, though.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“I have a meeting with Coach after practice today. But I also really need to pick something up at the stationery store before tomorrow. Can you go pick it up for me?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Cool. I’ll text you the details later.”

---

Jaehyun arrives at the stationery store with his phone in hand. The note from Donghyuck mentions some special set of paints with a foreign-sounding name. As he walks through the aisles of the little store, Jaehyun wonders who the paints are for. The note also mentioned that they were a gift for someone, but it doesn’t say who the someone is.

It takes a few laps around the store, and by the time he spots the little nook for the brand, the store owner's voice had already sounded through the overhead speakers to say that the shop would be closing soon. He grabs the last box left and quietly rejoices. Donghyuck had bartered your number for the price of running the errand. If Jaehyun could get the paints, then he could get the number. The odd part was that Donghyuck had mentioned something about Jaehyun possibly not even needing to ask him for the number if he played his cards right. Originally he had shrugged the comment off, but it did raise the hairs on the back of his neck a bit. There’s something about Donghyuck that feels akin to a cartoon villain, but Jaehyun can’t put his finger on it.

“Checking out?”

“Yeah,” he hands the shop attendant the container of paints.

The attendant tries to scan the barcode, but a strange sound comes from the machine.

“I think something’s wrong with the barcode. If you can wait right here, I’ll go get another one to scan and give you that one instead.”

“Oh. That was actually the last one left.”

“I see.” The attendant presses some keys on the computer before nodding. “I think we should have a reference code in that backroom. I can go get that and punch it in manually if that’s okay.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

The attendant assures him it’ll only be a moment before leaving the counter and disappearing into the back of the store. Jaehyun waits patiently while leaning on the counter when the bell to the front door of the shop rings. Another customer has come in right before closing, and the sound of their labored breathing makes it clear that they know they’re cutting it close. The footsteps fade out and then grow louder once more after a few minutes. He takes a glance over his shoulder to see you standing a little bit behind him.

“Oh. Hi. H-hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Jaehyun turns completely and sets his phone on the counter. “What brings you here?”

“I’m just grabbing some paint. I ran out a few days ago and I have some big projects coming up.”

“That’s funny. I’m doing the same thing.”

“Do you paint,” your eyes grow a little bigger with the prospect. At the sight of your small smile, Jaehyun wishes he could paint for the first time ever.

“No, but I’d like to learn.” And it’s never been true before, but he means it in that moment.

“Well, I could—”

“Sorry for the delay,” the shop attendant comes jogging back from the backroom. “Another employee had the reference book, so I had to spend some time to hunt it down. But you should be all set now.”

Jaehyun sends an apologetic smile your way before turning back to finish checking out. Once he’s done, even though he’s on a tight schedule with this favor, he hangs back.

“—I’m sorry but we sold out of the Neo Color Technology paints. If you’d like, we can give you a call when the next shipment comes in, but there’s a two-week wait.”

“Ah, really? Okay.” 

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you think about what you’ll do now. The idea of continuing some of your projects with a new set of paints that could have a completely different set of hues makes you nervous. You just perfected the shade of green you needed at the base for your huge forest study. Now you’d have to start from scratch.

Jaehyun is trying his hardest not to eavesdrop, but the odd paint name catches his attention. It’s the same one he just bought, per Donghyuck’s request.

“You can have mine,” he blurts out. “I’m the one who bought the last ones. But I obviously don’t need them like you do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, take them.”

Jaehyun hands you the bag. The smile you offer him in return is brilliant.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“God, no. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, let me buy you a tea or something at least.” You hand him your phone. “Here, put your number in and you can pick a day. I’ll pay.”

So Jaehyun takes your phone and inputs his number. A moment later he gets a text from you, clarifying that it’s you. He feels victorious for a moment and then confused. Here he is, getting your number without having to ask, just like Donghyuck himself had mentioned. He’s getting this number because he gave you, Donghyuck’s friend, some paints. Paints that Donghyuck asked him to buy, as a gift to a mysterious friend. 

Maybe Donghyuck is less like a villain and more like a twisted fairy godmother.  

This little dance you keep doing with Jaehyun is strange, to say the least. 

It felt odd to copy the number 14 onto your cheek for the first time knowing who it would really be for. And it felt weird to get so used to doing it that you can now copy the stencil in with practiced ease using the face paint you bought specifically for the occasion, no longer worrying about accidentally writing it backwards. All the while, you can barely make eye contact with him after a game, although you can practically feel the weight of his gaze when you make a beeline for Donghyuck after the last buzzer rings. And you can see the way his hand tugs at the gold chain around his neck as he approaches you cautiously. And you can hear the disappointment in his tone when he asks if you’re going to the house parties thrown by one of the players that typically follow the games only to hear you say no each time.

Another few weeks later finds you trying to make it through midterms. Donghyuck being a literature major means his midterms schedule is always different from yours. This time his midterms end much earlier, a few days earlier to be exact. You’re left to suffer through late night crunches to finish up paintings for one of your crits. Photoshopping some pieces for your digital art class leaves you so busy you don’t even register what’s going on around you.

“It’s my turn to host the post-game party,” he says after letting himself into your apartment one day. He drops the spare keyring reserved for him in the dish near the front door.

“Mhm.”

“But I feel like it would be a nice change to have it here.” When he makes a big show of dropping the takeout he brought you, you don’t even flinch at the sound of it hitting the table you’ve taken over.

“Sounds good,” is all you say as you try to find the one layer out of the 25 you had that you were looking for.

“Great, so I’ll probably stop by on Friday with stuff before the game to set up and then the team can just come through afterwards.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t hate me,” he places a kiss on the top of your head before wrinkling his nose when he smells your unwashed hair. “And don’t work yourself too hard, either.”

“Yeah...definitely.”

Friday comes by and you’re still working, so you have to skip the actual game itself. In the brief window of free time you had that morning, you wonder if you should text Jaehyun again so you can tell him you won’t be coming or bringing your little hand stenciled 14. But you decide against it. It’s a big game and he doesn’t need to be bogged down by unnecessary texts.

You’re actually away at your first crit when Donghyuck stops by again, this time with party supplies. When you come back, you barely register the mountain of beers and cheap wines sitting in your kitchen. All you want to do is sleep like the dead for a few hours. As you zombie walk to your room, you swear you hear him call to you to ask if he can store his balloons in the sink. With your last two brain cells you figure he must have said something else and you were just too tired to actually comprehend it.

Hours later, bass blaring through the thin walls of your place wakes you from your slumber. The details of your conversation with Donghyuck a few days prior come flooding back just as you pick up your pepper spray to drive out what you thought were home intruders. You leave your weapon behind and open your door just slightly. The music washes over you, louder now that the seal to your bedroom has been broken. 

There’s plenty of voices coming outside that accompany the music. Even a few errant screams make it inside and to your ears. Courtesy of Chenle, no doubt. A few more brave steps outside your room and a glance out of the hallway window lets you know that you didn’t mishear Donghyuck. You see several of the guys chucking water balloons at one another on the grass outside. The pile of little teardrop-shaped balloons is admirably large and it becomes clear that they’ll be doing this for a while.

You’re not in the mood to get soaked or get mosquito bites just so you can seem friendly. After all, the party is being hosted in your apartment complex. That’s friendly enough, you reason. Once you’ve done a quick sweep through the rest of the apartment to make sure nothing is stolen, stained, or broken, you return to your room to get ready for bed properly. It takes a while because you have to wash your hair on top of everything else after receiving a very strongly worded text from Donghyuck.

While in your bathroom, brushing your teeth and watching a video Taeyong sent you, there’s jumbled knocking on your door. Barely any time passes between the last knock and the creak of someone leaning on your door as they open it. You curse to yourself before spitting in the sink.

“Hey, the bathroom for guests is actually—”

Jaehyun stands in the middle of your room, squinting at the tapestry you have hanging over your bed. The sound of his teeth chattering despite it being the peak of Spring is actually alarming enough to stop you from being mad that Donghuck didn’t think to put a clear sign towards the bathroom for the general public.

“I always thought your room would have candles in it,” Jaehyun drawls. He looks around once more like he’s hoping a candle will jump out of a hiding spot. All his movements are slow and sleepy.

“Are you drunk?”

He grins with eyes that droop closed. “Yep.” 

“Great,” you mumble. When you take a step closer you realize the dark red sleeveless tank he’s wearing is actually dark from being saturated with water. “Why are you wet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. We played water balloon tag. I lost the last round.”

Jaehyun places a clumsy finger to his lips and stage-whispers a loud “shh”. For some reason you mirror that back to him. He nods, satisfied with your reaction.

“Don’t tell the others, but I...” he hiccups “I got cold, so I came inside.”

“What’s wrong with telling them you’re cold.” He hangs his head in shame then. Clearly you’re missing something important.

“Hyuck says bad bitches never get cold.”

With his shoulders slumped forward in such a pitiful fashion, you actually feel bad for wanting to laugh. It’s surprising. Super surprising actually, considering Jaehyun’s presence in your room means Donghyuck forgot to do the one thing you ask of him when he hosts parties at your place—put clear signs for drunk people to follow to the guest bathroom. You usually don’t want to deal with drunk student athletes, but something about Jaehyun makes him exempt from that.

“You can warm up here.”

As soon as you say the words, you cringe. It sounds like the awful beginnings of a bad porno, but your intentions really are pure. There’s something too sad about watching him nearly doze off while standing up like a newborn colt. So you go and find the best hoodie that you have in your clean laundry and you risk going to the kitchen and getting hit with a runaway water balloon so you can put water on for tea. Hopefully it will warm him up while also sobering him up a little.

“Is this Hyuck’s shirt,” he asks as soon as you return with a steaming mug.

“Uh, I think so.” You take a moment to appraise the hoodie. “Yeah, it’s his. It’s from one of his basketball camps from when we were younger, I think.”

He purses his lips but gratefully takes the mug with swaying hands. After taking a large sip, he hums and lets his head loll back with a smile.

“This is Mrs. Li’s blend.”

“Yeah.” 

It doesn’t seem right to tell him that you’ve been back there a couple times now and have started trying to get into tea. You take the time to put some distance between him and you. You walk to your bed and fluff a pillow that doesn’t need fluffing. The thing is that Jaehyun being in your room feels...weird. He looks all too content and comfortable in the space. That’s not to say he doesn’t suit the environment well. Somehow he looks like he belongs in your room with his soaked tank top and damp hair. You fluff the pillow harder.

“You must be tired,” he says after a long silence. He’s finished his tea but his eyes are still glassy.

“What?”

“Donghyuck told me ‘bout all your projects. Told me you had to draw him for one.”

“Oh, yeah I did. People actually loved that piece the most. But it took me the shortest amount of time.”

“Next time,” he begins ambling across the room, coming to place the empty mug on your bedside table. “Next time, you can ask me to model. If you want.”

“I mean, I only asked Hyuck since he was watching TV and he was there. Plus I know his face so well that it doesn’t even matter if he talks while I paint. The company is kind of nice.”

“Well, you can do it with me next.”

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. He doesn’t realize how strange what he’s saying is. And yet, your face still heats up. The sound of his teeth chattering lightly again reminds you how he got to be in your room in the first place. Jaehyun hugs himself as he continues to check out your room with a small smile on his face. He looks content.

“Do you want to get in,” you offer before your brain can process what your mouth has just done. His eyes go wide.

“Excuse me?” 

“Not—I mean, you just...look really cold and tired. Plus I heard you guys lost the game tonight, so the coach had you hauling ass after.” At the sight of his mildly amused face, tongue nudged between his teeth you add, “I don’t mean you should stay the night. It could just be for a bit and then you could, like, get up and call a cab home. But I get it if you’d rather not. Actually, I can just go see if Hyuck is around. I think he brought his—”

“No, no, stay,” he replies quickly to keep you from jumping out of bed. “I could use the rest.”

He turns around to shrug off the wet tank and pull on the hoodie, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to get your sheets wet’. Internally you wonder if you’re being laughed at by the gods while staring politely at nothing in the other corner of the room. You scoot over from your position in the middle of the bed to the side opposite him. He rewards your kindness with a flash of a bright smile before moving to pull back the covers.

His face lands directly in one of your pillows and you panic when you realize your sheets aren’t fresh out the washer. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind and lets out a sigh before shivering a little. With the hood over his hair, you can barely make out his eyes but you can tell they’re trained on you.

“You sure this is okay,” he whispers. 

“Yeah.”

The bed shifts minutely as he turns a little to get more comfortable. It feels hot in the bed all of the sudden. Despite the fact that you have on weather appropriate pajamas and your most lightweight Spring bedding on. Despite the fact that you’re not laying close enough to him to be able to feel any body heat. Maybe it’s warmer outside than you thought. That’s probably it.

---

When you wake up several hours later, it’s to the sound of clanking in your living room. The other side of the bed is empty and you try not to read into it. It wasn’t supposed to be a full night over, after all. You swing your feet over the edge of the bed only to squeal when your foot hits something cold in the little rug you keep there.

“What is it!” Donghyuck crashes into the room while holding the trash bag he was collecting loose beer cans with. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—oh.”

You look down at the rug and see something shiny and metallic as opposed to something wet and slimy. With your index finger and thumb, you pick up a medium length golden chain. It shines even in the low lighting of your bedroom. You both squint at the jewelry, trying to place it.

Donghyuck’s eye grow wide and he looks around the room in disgust suddenly.

“Was he in here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you grumble as you rub your eyes.

“What for?”

When Donghyuck raises an inquisitive eyebrow, your mouth drops open.

“We just slept—”

“You slept together?”

“Hyuck, not like that! What’s your problem?”

“Still, why is he sleeping in here? You never have guys sleep in here.”

“You sleep in here all the time,” you point a finger at him.

“True,” he cedes immediately, pointing a finger back. “Well, you better return that. I think it’s his lucky charm or something.”

“Can’t you do it?” He laughs before returning to the living room. 

“He didn’t leave it in my bed.” 

“I–fine. I don’t need your help anyway.” 

At that, he snorts.

“You do, but I’ll let you keep thinking that you don’t, because I’m a good friend.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.”

You pull on a sweater before coming out of your room with your phone in hand. There’s a companionable silence that falls over you two as you attempt to draft a text to Jaehyun about his chain while Donghyuck picks up the remaining trash from the party.

“How’d everything go,” you ask once the message is sent.

“It was fine. Jae was so gone that we thought he had flushed himself down the toilet for a while. But I guess that’s not what happened.”

Your face heats up at the teasing tone he uses.

“Hyuck, I have something to tell you.”

“God, what? Are you pregnant?”

“No! What the hell? Are you?” You try to swipe at his butt from the back of the couch.

“No! But...can you just say what you’re gonna say? You’re making me nervous.”

He even goes so far as to put the trash down and come around to sit with you on the sofa. You take a deep breath.

“I have a crush on Jaehyun. I just thought you should know.”

He stares at you, not blinking for a few seconds. He opens his mouth and then shakes his head to himself and closes it again.

“I see,” he finally says.

“It’s been going on a while, and I didn’t want to leave you in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Nope! I don’t mind being in the shadows. I do some of my best work there.”

“Do you think it could go anywhere?”

“What do you mean,” he throws another can into his bag.

“Like, do you think I have a chance with him?”

Donghyuck turns to stare at you, deadpan. “Do I think you have a chance with Jung Jaehyun? The man who slept in your bed a few hours ago?”

“Yeah.” Your face is completely open and imploring.

He sighs, “I think you might have a shot, sure.”

“Why, though?”

“I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

The next game of the season is a big one. The team coming in to play is an old school rival, so it draws a crowd that contains even the less sport-inclined students. You manage to get a ticket set away, but it’s still tough trying to find a spot to sit. It’s first come first serve with seats since the gym isn’t big enough to have labeled arena seating. 

Initially you had planned to use the extra time you had before the start to return Jaehyun’s chain, but it took you so long to make it from the parking lot to the gym and then to an open seat that there wasn’t any time left. Somewhere in between, you nearly get knocked over by the heavy current of fans from both teams flooding the space. The chain, once clutched in your hand, ends up around your neck out of fear that you lose it permanently.

You end up in the nosebleeds for the rest of the time. The players look like ants and if it weren’t for the large printed numbers on their jerseys, you might not be able to tell all of them apart. You text Donghyuck your location, and you see him looking towards the back rows at the beginning of the game, but he has to stay focused. You try your hardest to focus as well. At this point, you’re just about fluent in the sport that is basketball. But tonight’s game is hard to follow despite this. Jaehyun grabs your attention instead. He plays especially rough tonight, you note. He pushes hard across the court, even gets a couple warnings for defending like he’s on offense. There’s a fair amount of goals with his name on them as well. It’s exciting and you just wish your cheers could reach him.

More annoyance comes when the game finally ends. It’s a last minute shot by one of the other players who walked on this season that tips the game in your school’s favor. The crowd is deafening, even the ending buzzer is muted by their shouts. The bleachers shake under you with the force of fans running to meet their favorite players and generally gloat in front of the other team on the court. The shaking underneath you is terrifying enough to keep you seated until things have died down. There’s still probably a minimum of hundred people gathered on the floor, but you can at least step over empty concession bags as opposed to being stepped on by the supportive members of the hockey team.

It takes forever to find a single person you know. Of course it’s Donghyuck, who is in the middle of talking with some friends from off the team.

“Hyuck,” you begin to run over. When he sees you, you give him a big smile.

“No,” he responds simply as you get closer.

You slow down and let confusion wrinkle your brow. He offers no further verbal explanation but does give you a swift head nod in another direction. You follow the gesture and find Jaehyun at the end of the path. He looks a bit lost despite being with Doyoung and Johnny.

The fact that the others are there makes you freeze up at first, but the feeling of the chain laying delicately on your clavicle reminds you of what you need to do. Luckily, he sees you before the others do and he steps aside under the guise of getting a fresh towel. He waits for you to catch up once he’s out of their line of sight.

His voice is low, like he’s worried being too loud will make you change your mind about talking with him. But there’s an undercurrent of sincere happiness.

“There you are.”

“I was at the top row. I got here too late to sit where I normally do.”

“Ah. I thought maybe you couldn’t make it.”

“There’s no way I would be able to miss this one. Hyuck threatened to shave my head if I did.”

“That...sounds like him.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. The nerves are getting to you a bit. You’ve never confessed your feelings to anyone before, and you’re not sure if Donghyuck was right about you having a shot.

“So, what are you doing—”

“I’ve been meaning to tell—”

You both start talking at once and then immediately clam up when you interrupt each other. 

He gives the floor to you. “You go first.”

“Okay.” 

You reach for the back of your neck and watch as his gaze follows the movement of your hands only for his eyes to light up in recognition.

“I wondered where that thing went.”

“You left it at my place. I put it on because I was scared I’d lose it for real. Sorry.”

He reaches out casually to thumb at the chain around your neck. “Don’t be. It looks good on you.”

“It looks better on you.”

The chain slides off cool against your skin and your fingers shake as you carry the chain over to him. Wordlessly, you reach up and loop your arms around his neck to reunite the chain with its rightful owner. Sweaty palms make it difficult to redo the clasp without being able to see it. It puts you right in his personal space for an awkwardly long time.

“I’m really sweaty,” he whispers.

“Uh, that’s nice?”

He laughs and it puffs off your temple.

“I don’t want to get you dirty, but I really want to kiss you right now.” The clasp finally snaps into place

“Oh.”

The way he leans in, the way his arms come to cage around your waist, the drip of the sweat from his temple down the hinge of his jaw. All of it is slow. As if to give you the space to withdraw if you wanted. But you surge forward into him. And for once it’s not awkward. You don’t know how long you stand there necking like hormonal high schoolers in a sea of people on the gym floor at a school dance, but—just like at the school dance—someone is bursting the gossamer thin ambiance just when Jaehyun’s fingers graze the back pocket of your jeans.

“If you look to your left, boys and girls, you can see two local horndogs engaged in a seasonal ritual” He karate chops a hand down the space between your faces, cutting the kiss off abruptly and nearly bruising Jaehyun’s nose. Meanwhile Taeyong snickers loudly from behind Doyoung.

“Do you have a death wish,” you turn to him with fire in your eyes. He backs up slightly, but attempts to stand his ground.

“Do you know how hard I’ve been working to set you two up?”

“What are you talking about?”

You turn to Jaehyun, who looks just as confused. The gears turning in your heads are practically visible as you and he put 2 and 2 together slowly. The random lies, the weird errands, the sudden party. The blank stares from Donghyuck every time the two of you were in the same room but refused to talk. It all adds up.

“You owe me sweet potato fries for the rest of your life. Maybe longer, I’m not sure yet.”

Donghyuck puts his arms around you and Jaehyun, pulling you with him as he heads out of the gym and towards the exit that leads toward the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe you...puppet-mastered us,” Jaehyun’s voice is airy with disbelief.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t realize what was going on,” Taeyong snickers on the walk over. Doyoung snorts while lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah, the whole team was in on it.”

“You guys are one to talk.” Donghyuck turns back to give the two boys a humbling once over. “Don’t get me started on how hard it was to get you two losers together.”

Doyoung stops in his tracks, nearly tripping Taeyong in the process. 

“What?”

[pucksslut]

intoxicated

paring: suna rintarou x reader

summary: dragged to a college party by your good friend, you accidentally bump into a handsome stranger who you couldn’t help but become entranced by. college au! suna rintarou

wc: 3.2k

warnings: alcohol consumption/drug consumption, implied smut, drunk/high suna

authors note: so glad to get into writing again! i really enjoyed writing this fic and hope to get a part 2 out! i wrote in one of my friends as the reader’s friend, as she wrote a similar fic as well (i’ll link here). please feel free to request any fic or oneshot ideas and i hope to get more out soon!

“are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask, worry confidently slipping off of your tongue. Your sitting on a squeaky stool, gliding liner across your lips,

Your best friend, Lola, sitting beside you snickered, “when do we ever have good ideas? It’s not a good time without a little danger, am I right?”

It’d been forever since you were able to ease your mind and settle down, your friend encouraging you that a night out would be a mood-changer. Your mind had been beyond exhausted over the last few months, counting down the days before you could finally put it all away and be your true self again. That hope still is a dream away, as you still have what feels like years before you can finally sleep comfortably again.

“how’d you even get invited to this anyways?” you asked, sitting down your lip liner to pick up your hair straightener. You weren’t normally one to get done up for these types of things, but you haven’t gotten ready in forever. You’d convinced yourself that you just wanted to look nice for yourself, just this once.

“my dear, y/n. are you doubting me?” Lola giggled, giving your shoulder a playful nudge,

 “I’m glad to inform you that one of the hosts of said party, personally invited me. Can I get a round of applause,” you both broke out into laughter, your friend fake bowing while you clapped. It was nice to share these little moments sometimes.

“would’ve been nice to know earlier. Who is this said, “host”, you speak of?” you questioned, turning your body to face your friend. You had no idea she was friends with the boys on your school’s volleyball team, let alone close enough where she’d be invited to a party of theirs.

“y’know, just the one and only miya atsumu.” She smirked, giving you side-eyed wink. Your eyes widened, sitting down the scolding hair-straightener in your hands,

“no fucking way! You’re friends with miya atsumu? Doesn’t he fuck around with anything that carries a pair of tits?” you rhetorically asked, snorting midway through the sentence.

 You’d heard nothing but bad news about the miya twins, specifically miya atsumu. News got around quickly on campus, spreading even more like wildfire when it had something to do with the hotshot volleyball team. In all honesty, you could care less. 

You continuously questioned why every girl on campus had such a fascination with them. They all seemed like shallow asshole anyways, not giving a single shit about any of the girls in their path.

“excuse you! I’ve had the pleasure of fucking him once, maybe twice,” she cocked her head at you, 

“besides, don’t you want to party at least once? C’mon, these are the ragers everyone on campus talks about! You can’t leave me to go alone, babe!” she knew you were contemplating the idea in your head, meticulously running through every situation that could happen. But guilt-tripping you? Low-blow.

“you really have to make me feel like shit for backing out?” you rolled your eyes, an audible sigh escapes your mouth.

“so I take it as a yes?” she bats her eye lashes, sticking her pouting lip out as a typical over exaggeration.

 …

 You both stepped out of your uber, thanking him and wishing him a good night. You could hear the music pounding from even outside the house. You made eye-contact with Lola,

“are we sure we don’t want to turn around?” you asked, worry evident in your eyes.

“don’t be a pussy, y/n. just for a few hours, promise?” she said, sticking out her pinky for you to hold onto. You began your walk up the concrete steps, red solo-cups and empty beer bottles littering the front yard of the house.

There were already groups of people lined on the porch, evidently drunk and hoping to just catch a breath of fresh air. Your friend swung opened the door first, allowing the noise to hit you face first. 

Your nose began to twinge at the strong scent of marijuana, the living room looking as if it was clouded. You both step your feet into the house, immediately overwhelmed by the blaring speakers and loud yells of voices coming from the kitchen. 

Before you could come to your senses, you felt your hand being pulled further in the house until you were surrounded by the commotion.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” chants and words of encouragement thrown across the room as a face was participating in a keg-stand. Your friends eyes darted towards you, laughter began to exit her mouth. She pulled her hand away from you to watch the scene while you kept your balanced shoulder on the wall next to you. 

As quickly as it started, Miya Atsumu’s legs were dropped from the air, attempting to regain his balance as he hit the ground. The crown surrounding him began to applaud, causing a chuckle to escape from his lips,

“now, now! Yer all watching what I do best!” he laughs, Lola’s eyes lighting up at the sight of him. She’s already in too deep, you thought, a smile curving on your lips as you walk up to her,

“starstruck are we?” you whisper in her ear over the booming music, causing her to jump up slightly.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that.” She laughs, her head turning back over to Atsumu, who is making fast conversation with the other guys around him, all wearing the same black and white jersey.

“I think you should go and talk to him, y’know, since you guys are so “buddy-buddy.”” You surround air quotes around your last statement, and begin to laugh even harder at your own snarky comments. Man, you really need to get out into the world more.

“why don’t we go together. I’ll introduce you!” she said, smirking confidently while grasping onto your hand once again.

 Before you could protest her request, she was quickly pulling you around the kitchen and towards the badly-lit living room. Atsumu darts his head towards the both of you, his lips curving into a small smirk, his hand sticking out into a small wave.

“so you were able to make it?” atsumu asks, the same hand which waved enveloping Lola’s hand in his own. She smiled at him, their conversation completely blanking from your head when you lock eyes with a golden-eyed boy. Your brain quickly entranced by his fox-like stare and unkempt black hair.

You’d never seen someone who looked like him, especially someone you were so taken aback by. His body was strung across a small armchair in the opposite direction from where you stood; the coffee table across from him overwhelmed with rolling papers, beer cans, and cheap bottles of whiskey.

“earth to y/n…hello?” Lola asked waving her hand in front of your face, your head quickly snapping over in her direction.

“yes?” you asked quickly, hoping she didn’t notice your tranced stare. What the hell, of course she noticed. Both her and atsumu began to giggle,

 “okay, what the fuck?” you stated, knowing damn well that you were being made fun of.

“nothin’, just wanted to introduce you to Atsumu here, but it seems like you found someone else.” She smirked at you, lightly hitting Atsumu on the shoulder, causing him to catch onto what your friend was trying to say.

“so yer into ol’ suna rin? Wouldn’t peg him as yer type, but I guess looks can be deceiving.” Atsumu joked, causing a laugh to escape your friends lips. Why does she feel such a need to impress this asshole?

“oh! Nice to meet you too! I’m l/n y/n!” you mocked, you have never been the type to put up with shitty attitudes, even if acting like an asshole was a center-piece of your personality.

“c’mon y/n, we don’t have to be rude. Why don’t you ask atsumu here to hook you up with him?” Lola asked, curling her body closer towards atsumu. The sight made you feel slightly uncomfortable, opting out for a drink instead,

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going to grab a drink, want anything?” you truly didn’t want to stay, In all honesty, you’d rather go home and sulk in your bedroom than drink with a crowd you definitely didn’t fit into.

You questioned why you agreed to attend in the first place, or even if you agreed on your own accord anyways. You know she has your best interest at heart, explaining to you that you just needed a “break,” but she also knew that parties like this have never been your scene. 

Yes, she has known you long enough to know this fact, but she’s also known you long enough to understand that it’s way too soon to talk to men again, especially men like this.

“don’t be lame, y/n. if that’s what you want then so-be-it, but I know you’ll regret it.” She states, waving you off somewhere to grab a drink. 

You walked back over towards where you met up with atsumu moments ago, hoping for the bar to at least have a good option other than beer. As you reached the kitchen island, you were faced with a dilemma; tequila or vodka. 

Both being risky decisions, you outweighed the pros and cons in your head, of course overthinking things as little as your option of liquor for the night.

Ultimately deciding on a vodka cocktail, you spun around with your cup and headed back over towards your friend and atsumu. Unfortunately, you caught both sucking face in a dingy loveseat.

 Audibly making a sound of annoyance, you try and seek a place to sit. The dining room beside you being a faulty option as it was filled with drunken girls and boys who were higher than a kite, playing music as loud as they possibly could. You thought of sulking in the bathroom with your alcohol, but saw that option as poor, “party etiquette.”

“fuck!” you mumbled to yourself, frusturated at your friends lack of preparedness for her real plans during your night, and upset at the complete lack of your own social skills.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes were scanning your every back and forth movement while you frantically plotted your next move. Reverting back to the beginning of the night, you headed towards the front of the house, hoping to also catch a small breath of fresh air. Before you were even able to make it past the kitchen, a pair of large hands stopped you in your tracks.

“where ya’ heading, sweetheart?” a husky voice whispered into your ear, causing your arms to line with chills. 

His voice was smooth, and without even seeing his face, it struck a chord within your body. You turned your head around to face him, quickly realizing who you were looking at,

“cat got your tongue, hm? No need to be impolite, pretty girl.” His breath smelled heavily of marijuana, evident in his eyes as well. 

Much to your surprise, his smell was that of expensive cologne, overpowering the weed and alcohol branded into his mouth.

“well aren’t you bold?” you spat out, a smirk grazing atop your lips. His height compared to you is impressive, making you feel small underneath his hold.

“it’s hard to pass up an opportunity like this. You looked lost, and I’m just a kind-hearted bystander.” He joked, the grip on your shoulder loosened. You rose the drink you had in your hand onto your lips, pouring the cocktail down your throat. 

The man standing in front of you avoiding to break eye-contact with you. His face was beyond breathtaking to you, his eyes a sultry color of hazel, something you almost never see on the general population of those surrounding you.

Everything about him intrigued you, even though you had only seen him for the first time less than moments ago.

 Breaking you out of your trance, he turns on his heels making a beeline for the chair you first watched him in. taking this as a sign to follow, you gladly sway your hips behind him, a smirk lingering on your lips. He drunkenly throws his body on the armchair, patting the arms beside him,

“c’mere, pretty girl. No reason for you to stand around like a lost puppy.” His voice riveting through your brain, blocking out any other sounds around you. You were lost in this man, someone who you have yet to properly greet.

You initially thought your boldness was due to your drink, however, you still have yet to finish your first cup. The liquor wasn’t intoxicating, no, it was him. You guide your body over to him, carefully sitting on the arm of the chair, a silent prayer that your drink would stay in its’ cup.

“suna rintarou, by the way. But you sweetheart, can call me rin.” He states, rolling up a blunt on the table in front of him.

Everything he did was intricate, his lanky hands delicately rolling his paper, careful to keep it neat. You were impressed to say the least. 

You’d only smoked a handful of times, however, you were never able to achieve the feat of rolling your own blunt. You were never patient enough, nor were you sober in the first place.

“wanna hit?” he offered, finishing off the top of the blunt. You questioned whether you should smoke, having taken a break from that “lifestyle” for the time being. But how could you say no to that face?

“of course.” You smiled, gladly accepting the blunt from his hand. One hit turned into several before you were high off your ass, giggling in rintarou’s lap. 

You couldn’t recall how you got in the position, let alone what you were even laughing about in the first place. To say the least, this was the happiest you’d felt in a long time.

“rin! What the fuck?” your head snapped from the crook of suna’s neck to face a loud voice. A girl. You immediately felt uncomfortable, a once laughing fit now turned into you awkwardly sitting up from the position you were once in.

“fuck, what are you doing here?” he questioned, you being too embarrassed to even catch her name.

“really? I’m always invited to this shit! what whore have you seduced this week?” she rudely spat. Her voice was sharp, nearly snake-like as she came closer to the both of you.

“why the fuck should you care? Goddamnit, we broke up months ago,” suna calmly stated, “and she’s not a whore.” 

He continued to speak, opening his mouth like he had more to say. Rather than retorting, the girl in front of you began to laugh,

“I won’t be opening my door the next time you come back to me, and I promise, he always does.” She said, projecting her last statement towards you. 

It hurt, but you convinced yourself it shouldn’t. you only met this guy a few hours ago, why should his past relationships matter?

You couldn’t be jealous, and you had zero reason to be, right? As soon as she turned around to leave, you quickly sat up from the chair, readjusting the short skirt you’re wearing.

“y’know, I should probably go.” You mumbled, awkwardly turning to move somewhere, anywhere but here.

“y/n, c’mon. there’s no reason to leave. She’s nothing.” Suna stated, reaching up to grasp your wrist. You turned back around to face him, his lips outwardly pouting and eyes filled with lust. The sight made you giggle.

 Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the pure attraction to the man that sat in front of you. Your body languidly fell against him, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

“you’re so beautiful. Did you know that?” he whispered into your neck, causing your stomach to almost fill immediately with butterflies.

All of his words had an effect on you, and it was something you’re unable to explain. He made you forget about anything, which could be considered a bad thing, but it was intoxicating.

 Instead of forming words to respond, you leaned upwards, pressing your lips onto his. The sudden touch came as a shock to suna, taking him a few seconds before he kissed back with vigor. His hand landed on your cheek, caressing the bits of hair shaping your face.

Suna deepened his movements, a rhythmic sequence between the both of you. His kiss ignited a fire in your stomach, something you couldn’t remember the last time you felt. His arms kept you in a hold as you straddled his hips. 

You couldn’t care less if anyone saw, the only thing that mattered in the moment were you and him.

His lips disconnect with yours, a desperate sign escaping your mouth.

“what do you think we take this somewhere else?” he whispers, taking a bite of your ear into his mouth. You could feel him beneath you, his hardened dick poking into your thigh. You squirmed in his hold,

“and what would we do there?” you asked, close enough to his face that his warm breath molded against yours. You began to grind against his lap, hoping to coax an answer out of him. The heat in your stomach began to grow more, your increasing arousal growing noticeable within your rigid breaths.

“desperate are we, pretty girl,” he said, his hands snaking along your thighs. 

“who says you could even take it?” his voice continues, these words causing a snap in your body.

“I want you so bad.” Your voice hinted with pure sex. Trying to think, you can’t remember the last time you felt this much attraction to single person, let alone someone who you’d just met.

Just as he moves to connect his lips with you once more, you hear a loud yell,

“we got cops!” someone yells from the room across from you.

Shit.

You quickly hop off suna’s lap, scrambling to find your phone. You had no idea where your friend had disappeared to, trying to quickly find her contact name.

         “c’mon baby, we gotta go.” Suna says, grabbing onto your wrist. Your phone vanishes into your pocket,

         “fuck, I don’t know where my friend ran off to. I can’t leave without her,” you continued on, suna dragging you out from the backdoor,

         “she’s with atsumu right?” he quickly questions, only to receive a quick nod from you in response, “she’ll be fine, dudes’ a fucking pro at running from the twelve.”

         Along with his reassuring words, your gaze locked onto his. Despite the situation that you had fallen into, his expression was calm. 

He dragged your small form towards his black car parked on the opposite street, shoving you into the passenger seat.

         “wait, where the fuck are we going to go?” you frantically asked, forgetting you’d only met him a mere hour ago. He threw himself in the driver’s seat, revving up the ignition.

         “I dunno. you tell me, sweetheart.” He looked over at your sinking form, a wink directed towards you, releasing a laugh from your mouth.

         He began to drive, evading any of the oncoming sirens. Even the way he drove had you entranced. His right hand left the steering wheel, finding home on your thigh, outlining circles onto your skin.

“my house or yours?” he asked, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him.

Goddamn, were you in for a night.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Golden Cage - Chapter.06

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but — — is Dean really who he says he is?

Chapter Warnings: Flangst, NSFW

WC: 3096

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​​​​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Dean notices that she’s watching him, probably not quite trusting him. She’s doubting his words, wonders if he really means it, because he can see it in her eyes. But hell, he does. He really does. 

Right now, he needs a shower more than anything, needs to rinse off the day before he can concentrate on anything else, and showering with her would be so much more fun than alone. He wriggles his eyebrows as he throws his shirt to the ground carelessly before he starts to unbuckle his belt. 

Y/N’s still looking at him weirdly, but he sees her hand fisting around the hem of her shirt shyly. She’s lifting it up enough for him to see the apex of her thigh, a little triangle of plain black panties. He has to bite the inside of his cheek so as not to make too loud of a sound because the noises he’s making tonight are really starting to get embarrassing.

He watches her bite down on her bottom lip again when he pulls his belt out of the loops of his pants, and she’s still toying with the hem of her shirt. He knows it’s because she wants to wait as he’s still wearing more than she does, and he guesses that she wants to see how far he really goes without bluffing. They haven’t even seen each other naked yet and he wants her to shower with him. If Dean was her, he’d think it’s weird too, he can’t blame her for acting as she does. 

That’s right, they haven’t seen each other without clothes yet but Dean has already fucked her on his fingers, knows exactly how wet and warm her pussy feels. He tasted the sweet taste of her lips on the tip of his tongue and he’s greedy. He wants more. There’s no way for him to back out, no matter how hard he would really want to. Which is not hard at all right now.

His fingers pull down his zipper next and there she is, lifting her shirt a little higher, showing her stomach with a cheeky grin. God, he’s such a goner for that kind of grin. In fact, he hates it so much that he wants to fucking kiss it off her face. 

Her panties have a little red bow on them, and it feels like she’s a fucking present for someone. For him. And it’s not fair that a simple little piece of fabric turns him on. Not fair at all. It’s not that he has never seen a woman in panties before. Dean has had a fair share of women in his life. It’s just— 

—none of them affects him as she does.

And finally, she pulls the shirt up, her soft tits jiggle as she lifts her arms over her head. Dean watches in awe, almost mesmerized as he lets his pants drop to the floor. He steps out of them and clears his throat when he catches her staring at him without blinking. The color rises in her cheeks and he thinks it’s fucking adorable. 

He takes a step closer, bends down quickly to take off his socks, almost falls flat on his face, but saves himself gracefully by reaching a hand to grab at the bathtub. She giggles when he stands back up, and Dean waves an arm around her waist, pulls her closer, shuts up her giggling with a hard press of his lips to hers.

Dean parts after, leaving her breathless and wanting more, just how he likes it, and he’s a little shit for doing it, he knows. He takes a step back and hooks his thumb into the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down. The fabric strains at his cock because it’s a little more than semi-hard by now with all the teasing and kissing. He has to use one hand to safely tug his cock out and slide the fabric down with his other hand. And while he’s doing it, she watches him with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. 

Rarely does he feel self-conscious about himself, about his appearance, and Dean knows that’s he’s probably alright looking, he wouldn’t go as far to think that he’s hot, but he knows that he doesn’t really have to be ashamed of the way he looks, but also he knows that she is, because she’s covering herself a little and Dean doesn’t want that. She showed him enough for him to know that there’s really nothing she should feel embarrassed about. 

Taking a step forward and towards her, he cups her chin between his fingers and points her face up so he can kiss her.

“Let me,” He whispers into the kiss, and before she can ask what he means by that, Dean kneels down. 

He lets his hand trail along the elastic of her panties and he can’t not play with that little bow, toying it with the tip of his index finger before he hooks it inside her panties, pulling down the little piece of fabric agonizingly slow because he feels like it’s a treat, feels like it’s a fucking present on Christmas morning.

Dean tries his best not to make another weird sound, bites on his tongue because he can’t let her see how much she already affects him by just letting him take off her panties. He’s affected by catching one little glimpse of her bare pussy. Well, it’s hard to actually hide the effects when he thinks of it, as his hard cock kind of gives everything away. 

He gets up again, his hand brushing against her perky nipple and she squirms a little, making him chuckle under his breath. Dean takes her hand, pulls her along into the generous shower. It’s certainly big enough to fit both of them. They could even invite three more people and they would all still have enough space in here. Too bad that he’s greedy and he’s not sharing. 

They stay under the spray, wetting themselves and he reaches out a hand to grab at his body wash before squirting a generous amount into the palm of his hand. She holds out hers too, demanding he squirts it into her palm as well, and Dean complies with a chuckle. He then pushes her away out of the spray and begins to rub the soap over her, massaging her body as he goes.

He lets her soap up his chest and she pauses to let her fingertip bump over every scar she sees.

There’s particularly thick scar tissue just above his chest, slightly below his shoulder and she lets her fingertips trail over the bump.

“Bullet?” She whispers with concern in her voice and eyes.

“Yeah,” Dean breathes out, tries not to squirm because it’s his latest injury and sometimes he can still feel it, “I got in the way.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” 

He watches her trailing her eyes along his chest, over to his arm. She places her hand on another scar, “A knife?” 

Dean probably should be wondering how she knows which scars a weapon would leave on his body, and he would be worried if it was someone else, but she’s probably seen a fair share of injuries and scars tissue. 

“Yeah, angry rival gang,” He lies. She doesn’t need to know that his cover blew up while he was undercover at a drug deal and the man stabbed him before Dean could pull out his gun from its holster.

She bites on her bottom lip as she inspects him some more. Her hands trailing along his arms and body, soaping him up and caressing his skin at the same time. It feels good, he enjoys it, which is also something he never lets anyone do. He can’t even remember the last time he let anyone come so close to his scars. Having sex is a whole other story, the women usually don’t dwell on the marks on his skin. He watches her frown when her palm travels over bumpy territory. 

Dean leans forward and kisses her forehead. He raises his hand to her face, lets his knuckle brush along her cheek, “It’s nothing. I’m still alive.”

“Still,” She mumbles.

“C’mon,” Dean says, cups her chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilts her head up, making her look him in the eyes and she reluctantly does, still with concern in her eyes, “Baby, don’t worry about it, okay?” He kisses her then, walks her backward under the spray with his lips still attached to hers, only parting to wash off the soap from their bodies before he pushes her back against the shower wall. 

“Baby,” She breathes out and grins against his lips. 

He breaks the kiss to look at her, raising his eyebrow as he does. 

“Baby,” She smiles and says it again, “I like that much more than princess.”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” 

He’s still smiling, has to nibble at her lips to not make it too obvious that he too, likes the sound of it much better. It sounds like it’s something only he says, only he’s allowed to say, “Then I’m gonna say it more often. Baby, baby, ba—” He kisses her hungrily, licking into her mouth which she parts for him so easily, his big hands touch her everywhere. He can’t really help it. Has the need to feel her up. Her tits feel soft in his palm as he gives them attention, kneading and squeezing them to his satisfaction. She squeals when he rolls her nipples between his fingers and he pinches them until they peak even more than they already do. Dean has to kiss her even harder in order to effectively shut her up, “Shhh, gotta be quiet.” He whispers against her swollen and wet lips.

She nods at him while she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and Dean can’t really hold himself back now, has accepted that he’s lost the fight, and pushes her harder against the tiled wall. He kisses her more roughly, more demanding as a hand kneads at her flesh on the side of her hips and his other one goes down to her pussy. He groans into the kiss when he feels how wet she is when he threads his fingers through her slippery folds. Her juice pools between her thighs, something he knows for sure, is definitely not water. 

Dean bites down on her lips, harder than he intends to but in his defense, his head is pretty much clouded with everything about her. With the softness of her skin, with the taste of her inside his mouth, with the wetness of her cunt. He’s so far gone, there’s no coherent thought running through his head — which should actually frighten him but it really doesn’t. 

She squeals in delight at the same time he groans because she now has his dick in her hand and god, the way she holds it borders on too painful but somehow it’s just fucking right. Dean doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, can’t even explain the level of how fucked up he is in his head. He is whipped from head to toe. 

Y/N works his length with both her hands, moves up and down in a slow pace and he’s thankful because if it was any faster he’d shamelessly come instantly, and that would be embarrassing, since he thinks he’s the more experienced one out of the two of them. The one who should be able to hold himself together better. 

Dean risks a glance down, but immediately regrets it because he looks huge against her delicate fingers. It’s a fucking turn on and he has to kiss her to stifle the sounds he makes.

Carefully, he pushes his one finger inside of her wet cunt and it goes in easily. He feels it fluttering around his single digit, welcoming him in like the last time. She moans against his shoulder, teeth scraping along his skin. Dean bites on his tongue to suppress his own groan. God, he can’t help but imagine his dick in there and Jesus, his cock twitches in the palm of her hand.

“You okay?” He has to ask because she now has her face buried in the crook of his neck and Dean can’t see her. He has that weird urge to know and to always make sure that he’s not hurting her. 

“Uh-huh,” She whispers, licks the patch of skin on his shoulder where she sank her teeth in. 

“Uh-huh?” He chuckles.

“More, I want more,” She manages to say while she bucks her hips against his finger, seemingly wanting more. 

God, this girl.

He slips in his middle finger, feeling her tightening at the new digit. It’s a fucking tight fit, it has him groaning out but he catches himself on time, closes his lips and the sound gets lodged in his throat. 

Y/N helps him by lifting her one leg to hook it around his hips. She’s totally blissed out when his fingers hit her just right. Dean curves them some more, rubs against her inner wall, searches for the sweet spot. 

“Ffffuck,” It comes out a hiss while she bites down on her bottom lip. That’s when he knows that he’s hit it just right. 

She moves her hips, bucks up to him as if she can’t get enough. He loves that, loves how she tries to take what he gives her. 

“Dean,” It’s a whisper and she buries her face back into the crook of his neck. He hates it, hates that he can’t see her face. That he can’t see how much he affects her, too.

“Baby, what?” He’s true to his words, wants to say it as much as he can. The word sounds good in his ears. 

She’s mumbling something against his skin, he can’t make out what. The water is raining down on them loudly. 

“Huh? You gotta tell me, baby. Use your words,” 

“Ah,” She’s basically humping his fingers, Dean thinks it’s fucking great. Her teeth scrape along his shoulder, tongue licking the water off his skin, “Harder, I want it harder,” And she’s back to burying her face into his neck, probably feels ashamed of her demand.

Who is Dean to deny her this? 

He chuckles, “You want it harder, huh? Rougher too?” 

“Uh-huh,” She nods her head and noses along his pulse point. 

Jesus, this fucking girl.

His cock twitches in her grip. She’s only got one hand on him now while she claws around his neck with her other one. Fingers digging into his skin, nails sinking into his flesh. Dean doesn’t mind. 

“Uh-huh?” He asks again, but doesn’t really wait for an answer. He doesn’t really need to as he doesn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, “Look up for me, baby,”

And she does. 

She looks up at him with a flustered face and there’s a little frown. One of his hands goes around her throat while he still finger fucks her hard, just like she wants it. Dean pushes her harder against the wall, and she cranes her neck for even better access for his hand, doesn’t fucking tell him to stop. 

His mind can’t form words on how much he loves it. Loves how she’s pliant in his fucking hands. It isn’t long before she comes on his fingers, her eyes cross, which again, is awfully cute how she can zone out like that. Her lips open and close in a silent gasp, and Dean kisses her as she gushes around his fingers. He has to take a step back to get out of her grip around his cock because her hand tightens around his length and he’s so close to creaming himself.

“Dean,” She says breathlessly, her chest heaves and Dean releases her throat before he dips his head down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, tongue twirling around it. The hand that was around his cock is now on the back of his head, nails digging into his scalp as she draws him closer, pulling him into her chest, “Dean, I want you to fuck me,” She whispers as she dips her head down and kisses his hair.

Dean groans with her nipple still between his teeth upon hearing her say those words. She’s fucking with his mind because yeah, he’d like to do that too. He quickly releases her tit with a lewd pop in order to be able to stand back up and claim her mouth. He kisses her roughly and she matches his pace. Which is something he also fucking loves about her. Loves how he can catch up with his kisses.

God, this fucking girl, seriously. 

“When I fuck you, baby,” He whispers against her lips and pauses to suck in her bottom lip, he bites down on it too, just to hear her moan, “I’m gonna do it right. I want you on a bed.” 

Well, Dean was never the one to turn down a great offer, he honestly would do it in here too, but not with her. He wants her spread out under him, wants to be able to hear everything that comes out of that sweet mouth, even though he also knows that they have to keep it low. Still, he’d like to do it without hearing the constant rain of water and standing up. At least not for the first time that he gets to be inside of that sweet pussy of hers.

Quickly, Y/N releases his dick and pushes him away so that she can walk out of the shower. Taking a towel from the stack, she dries herself off and the only thing Dean can do is watch her with a raise of his eyebrow. He watches as she wraps the towel around herself, securing it with a knot and Dean thinks it’s cute. She’s probably doing it because she’s embarrassed to be naked around him.

It’s another thing he wants to erase from her mind. The insecurities. At least he’s going to try.

“Come on,” She whispers in a hiss and there’s an amused look in her eyes as she stands there and takes another towel from the stack. She holds the towel up for him, “What are you waiting for?”

Dean chuckles under his breath, shakes his head as he takes a last dip under the spray, letting the water wash away the blush in his face before he turns off the showerhead.

This fucking girl.

Chapter.07

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