#and he spends five whole seconds just. holding the character. not even dancing.

[hamartia-grander]

Wyll breaking up with the player character if Ulder dies so Wyll must become the Duke makes me wanna throw up sobbing because he actually thinks that just because his father's first duty being to Baldur's Gate made him a Bad Father that Wyll himself will inevitably be a Bad Lover because surely no one could match love with duty if his father couldn't, unknowing he has more love in one hand than his father had in his entire body. fuck

[offbrandhange]

Wedding Day ! | 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

Fluff & NSFW headcanons on your wedding day/night with some of the AOT boys!

! Slight NSFW !

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of sex, pregnancy. Fem ! reader.

Majority of this is fluff, but there are mentions of !BEEP! sooo yeah.

Characters: Armin, Eren, Erwin, Jean, Levi

a/n: I have to take my SAT tomorrow, please wish your girl good luck for those sweet, sweet good grades....

𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙 ~

Helps you plan the wedding and possibly loves it even more than you do. He’s a sucker for quality time. 

Armin would prefer a small or medium-sized wedding. If you want a large wedding though, there’s no way he’s holding you back from having it. 

100% a beach wedding. No doubt.

The venue is BEAUTIFUL. Spent countless nights researching and visiting places to make sure you got the best.

Eren is chosen as the best man, although Armin feels guilty for having to pick only one out of all his friends.

On the day of the wedding, Armin is a panicking mess. Eren and Jean literally have to give him a pep talk before he goes to stand at the alter.

Practiced deep breathing techniques before the wedding. Unfortunately, they aren’t working.

When you finally walk down the isle, Armin starts crying softly. Eren put his hand on his shoulder to comfort him......which just made him sob harder. He cried multiple times during the wedding.

Your wedding rings are the set his grandfather and grandmother shared :’)

Specifically told the bartender not to serve Connie and Sasha more than 3 drinks. He doesn’t trust them making their own alcohol-related decisions at his wedding.

Armin isn’t a dancer but....he practiced how to slow dance just for you.

Shy at first when it comes to the more fast-paced dancing, but Jean coaxes him into it, and he ends up having a lot of fun.

The speeches are so nice!!! But mostly because Armin asked Mikasa to read them over before hand to make sure they were okay.

After the wedding ends and everyone has left, you and Armin sit and watch the waves at night.

NSFW below !

The beach was reserved...meaning it is now completely deserted. I am now politely reminding you, Armin is not a saint. Honeymoon sex on the beach, anybody?

The sex is slow and sweet; he takes his time with you and kisses you all over. It’s 100% the definition of, “making love.”

If you’re down for a kid right now, Armin’s down for a kid right now. He WILL try for a baby with you if it’s what you want.

After you made a mess of yourselves in the sand...Armin would probably let you sleep for a little bit as he watched the waves. He doesn’t want it to end yet.

When he’s finally content, he would carry you back to the hotel, trying not to wake you.

Super considerate dusting the sand off you, and then tucking you in bed. He’s totally cuddling you to sleep, too.

𝕰𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~

Pretty much gives you full control of the wedding planning; he only has a few requests.

Eren would be the type of dude to invite friends, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends. Your wedding is gonna be packed.

Has no idea what kind of wedding he prefers.

Please, god, don’t let him pick the venue. He will go to the first one, look around, and go, “Yeah, this is pretty nice.” That’s how you’ll end up getting married at an AirBNB with a nice backyard hidden behind the local Walmart.

Doesn’t know if he should make Armin or Zeke the best man, so he flips a coin to decide. It landed on Armin, and from that day on, Zeke was super salty.

Tries to convince you to try on the wedding dress/suit the day before. He can’t sleep that night because he’s so keyed up thinking about how pretty you’ll look.

On the day of the wedding, he’s super fucking ecstatic and practically bouncing all over the place.

Eren would get kind of impatient when waiting at the isle, to the point it would annoy the groomsmen. Jean came so close to saying something but was thankfully stopped by Armin.

When you finally walk down the isle, he’s BEAMING. He tears up a little bit out of happiness, but nothing too extreme.

Armin had to help him pick out the wedding rings otherwise you would’ve ended up with one of those plastic spider rings you win at Chuck e. Cheese’s.

Eren gets so fucking drunk you’re worried you might have to carry him back to the room by the end of the night.

Jean literally nit-picks everything Eren does the whole night....which almost ends up resulting in a drunken bar fight...at your wedding. It ends up fine, though, because Levi and Mikasa step in as bodyguards.

You SWEAR Mikasa is giving you dirty looks. Likewise, Eren SWEARS he’s getting dirty looks from Levi.

He does alright slow-dancing, but is so tipsy and distracted by how attractive you are to him, he’s kinda just....trying his best.

Absolutely OBLITERATES the dance floor when the fast-paced songs come on...

WILD assortment of speeches. Mikasa is crying, Armin’s reading a poem, Floch’s trying to get you to join his cult, Zeke is crying......and Eren is sitting there like, “Is this almost over.” You’d think it was America’s got talent, or something.

When the wedding ends, he 100% drags you to your favorite fast-food restaurant. Still in your wedding attire. Seriously, this dude is crazy, but he’s fun.

NSFW below !

When you get back to the hotel, he lets you eat your food--and then he fucks the shit out of you.

Way, way, way more rough than usual; super passionate sex. Multiple rounds, too. You don’t even KNOW how he has this much stamina by the end of the night.

Not even TRYING to get you pregnant, but his dumbass probably accidentally would.

Good luck trying to walk tomorrow!!!

When he’s finally tired, he is GONE. Like, you could scream bloody-murder and he still wouldn’t wake up.

𝕰𝖗𝖜𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍 ~

You can TRY and take that wedding planner from Erwin--the only way he’d give it to you is if you pried it from his cold, dead hand(s).

Tells people he’s married MONTHS before the wedding.

Everyone.....and I mean EVERYONE.....knows you’re getting married. he will walk up to strangers and brag about you.

Erwin invites everyone he sees. Elderly woman crossing the street? Invited. Barista at the coffee shop? Invited. Guy on the bus who offered him a seat? Invited.

All those people attend the wedding, too. Why? Everyone knows and loves Erwin. So when your wedding is literally PACKED with people you have never seen before--you’re only slightly surprised.

You know those reality shows where they have HUGE, expensive weddings? Your wedding would put theirs to shame. Erwin goes ALL OUT.

The venue? A literal castle. How did he manage to book and afford a castle? Don’t question it.

Your wedding dress doesn’t have a budget. Seriously, your wedding is crazy expensive--and straight out of a fairy tale.

You’re pretty sure Levi made himself the best man--and Erwin was fine with it.

Is super excited on the day of the wedding. He knows it’s going to be perfect; he got his eyebrows done just for the occasion.

When you walk down that isle his smile is SO BRIGHT. he is SHINING.

Yeah, those wedding rings? Imported from Italy, plastered with giant, real, diamonds. You will never be able to say Erwin doesn’t spoil you.

Pretty chill wedding, nothing’s too rowdy and everyone’s still having a good time.

Whispers sweet nothings and tells you how happy he is the whole night. He can’t go five minutes without saying, “I love you.”

Just TRY to get him to stop holding your hand; he won’t.

Erwin is so good at slow-dancing??? And he’s so careful with you, too. 100% the one in the lead, but he’s spinning and dipping you so sweetly. Not to mention the way he’s looking at you...

He’s a serious guy a lot of the time, but I honest to god believe in the sweetest way possible, you would genuinely have a really fun time fast-pace dancing with him. You would both be laughing at each other’s moves.

Majority of the speeches are super nice. Hange tried to get Levi to say something, brought him up to the stage and....he starred at the crowd for a couple awkward seconds, then walked off. He conveyed his message through his eyes, I guess?

The wedding is so long you weren’t sure it was ever going to end...

Hotel? Nah he booked that castle, that’s where you’re spending the night...

NSFW below !

You’re fucking in the king bed tonight baby, literally.

Pays attention to your needs/wants the WHOLE NIGHT. Seriously, he’s a soft dom, and makes sure you’re more than satisfied.

Tons of body worship?? He’s so sweet and careful with you.

Erwin secretly really, really wants to give you his babies and start a family with you on the honeymoon. If you’re willing, he will make sure he gets you pregnant; you’re getting no sleep.

After you’re done, he will run you two a bath and clean you off. He adds in a little bonus massage, too.

When you get in bed, he pets your head, cuddling you until you fall asleep. You could’ve sworn you saw him smiling before you drifted off to sleep.

𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓 ~

Jean would definitely help you plan the wedding--he values romance a lot, so having the perfect wedding for him and you, is important. He also doesn’t want to put all the weight on you.

Brags to his friends that he’s getting married--they all get tired of hearing about it.

Normal sized wedding--not too many, but not small, either. Lots of family and friends.

The venue is at a barn. Yes, he picked a barn. it’s a nice venue, too; the only problem is that he’s not going to be able to escape those horse jokes.

Marco is chosen as the best man--and when Connie hears about it, he sulks for a few days. He gets over it eventually, though.

He’s kind of nervous the day of--but Marco reassures him and teaches his some deep-breathing techniques.

Keeps his cool until he goes to stand at the alter--and then he’s in full-blown panic mode. “What if I can’t make her happy?” “What if she runs away with Eren?” meanwhile, Eren is standing right there with the other groomsmen, like “wtf?”

When you walk down the isle--he’s super overwhelmed. He feels a huge sense of relief you didn’t ditch him and run away, but also metaphorically hit by a semi-truck of emotions since he realized he’s ACTUALLY getting married. There’s a little bit of happy crying.

His mom picked out your wedding rings; you only find out when she brags about it--and Jean yells at her for telling you.

His wedding gift to you is a giant portrait he drew of you--and on the back, there’s a message in French. He won’t tell you what it says, but you’re pretty sure it’s an oath to love and protect you ‘till the day he dies.

He does pretty well slow-dancing. His mom also mentions he begged her to practice with him so he didn’t mess up.

He’s a little worried about making himself look like a fool dancing in front of you--but for you, he does it anyways; You both laugh your asses off and have a lot of fun.

The speeches make Jean look like he wants to drop dead from embarrassment. He’s not sure what’s worse--Connie and Sasha doing karaoke, Eren making horse jokes, or his mom telling all of his embarrassing baby stories.

After everyone leaves, Jean takes you to look at the animals before you leave, too.

NSFW below !

 As for honeymoon sex; you better not make a horse joke, otherwise you’re getting laid in that fucking barn. Maybe. He threatens that, but you know he wouldn’t want to have sex there on your wedding night. He’s 100% down for another time, though.

A mix of rough and sweet at the same time--he does the right things at the right times.

Is a lot more passionate and soft than usual--very careful with your body, and makes sure to really take everything in; He wants to remember the night for as long as he lives.

Immaculate aftercare; and on top of that, he lets you fall asleep in his arms, occasionally kissing your forehead.

Bonus: he sings you to sleep.

𝕷𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ~

Lets you plan the wedding, but looks it over and makes sure there’s nothing too crazy happening. He, somehow, is worried you’re going to plan a circus or something else ridiculous to show up.

No one knows you’re getting married until the envelopes are mailed to family and friends. In fact, some people didn’t even know you were together.

Pretty small wedding, it’s mostly people who are very close to you two. It has a very homey-feel.

The venue HAS to be indoors. Levi thinks an outdoor wedding is unsanitary--so you end up getting married in a banquet hall.

Erwin is 1000% the best man. You don’t even have to ask, you already know it’s going to be Erwin.

Is literally shaking and sweating his ass off he’s so nervous the day of the wedding--if anyone asks, though, he swears he is fine. Has no idea it’s completely obvious he’s on the verge of absolutely freaking out.

Erwin and Hange try to get him to relax--but he continues to deny that he is in fact, NOT calm.

When you walk down the isle and he makes eye contact with you--his brain short-circuits. His mind literally stops working and is constantly repeating, “p...p...pre....pretty..” the whole damn time.

Mentally saves the image of you in your dress/suit to use as his motivation to always come home to you.

Tries to remain expressionless, but is literally tomato-red and on the verge of crying; he never thought he’d be able to find happiness--it feels like everything is finally going to be okay. Erwin is smiling like a proud dad, and Hange is trying to suppress their amazement that the dude’s showing emotion.

Your wedding rings are fairly plain--but on the inside of the bands, both of your names are etched.

He won’t read the vows out loud, he simply hands you a letter and tells you to read it another time.

When the time comes to kiss--Levi literally hides behind you and shyly pulls you in. The view the audience gets is your back--and they aren’t sure whether to clap or not.

Your wedding gift to him was a giant assortment of different teas--and he genuinely seemed really excited to try them. He didn’t realize it, but when he mentioned tasting them, he said, “with you” at the end.

Has no idea how to slow dance. Erwin tried to help him, but it didn’t do much, so you teach him on the spot. Your first dance, he concentrates really hard on not messing up, eyebrows furrowed and all.

Doesn’t know how to dance fast-pace either, in fact, he’s pretty confused. You have to grab the man and force him out of his comfort zone, spinning him and all. Hange and the Survey Corp members are laughing their ass off at his bewildered face.

The speeches went pretty well--except for when Hange didn’t stop talking; Levi threatened to force them off the stage, and you don’t think he was joking.

The wedding was fairly short--but only because Levi rushed everyone home; he just wanted to drag you off and keep you to himself for the rest of the day.

After the wedding, he takes you to a spot nearby to watch the sunset. He has a soft smile, and you can tell he’s genuinely happy.

You take HIM back to the hotel--he would’ve been fine staying there just a little longer, in the peace of it all.

NSFW below !

You’re literally taking his virginity. He saved himself for marriage; he wanted to make sure he gave himself to the right person.

Very nervous--and kind of insecure, too. He isn’t sure what you’ll think of him, and he’s worried about you seeing his scars. He STILL isn’t completely convinced you really want him.

Lots of body worship and reassuring him; he melts at your touch.

Once he gets comfortable and into it, he repeats “I love you” a lot.

He doesn’t last very long...but keeps going until you get off, too. He’s still a little confused by everything, so you have to teach him.

He’s half asleep after cumming--but still insists the two of you need to get in the shower.

Was too tired to stand, so you took a bath together instead. He falls asleep, leaning on you, when you massage his head.

You end up being unable to wake him up--the man is dead tired from not only sleep deprivation, the long day, but also his first time.

You can’t get him out of the bathtub, either--he’s too bulky to lift. You expected him to be much lighter due to his height, but his muscle makes him a lot more heavy.

Hange and Erwin have to be called to haul his ass--naked--out of the tub and into the bed. Hange is of no help since they’re laughing so hard--and Erwin is helping, but trying so hard not to break face and laugh too.

After they leave, you cover him up and cuddle into his frame; you could swear you heard a quiet, “thank you.”

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts)   (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

/

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

/

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

/

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

/

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

/

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

/

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

/

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?  

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

/

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

/

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

/

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

/

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

/

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

/

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell ​@partypoison00 ​ @90ssantiago

[andreafmn]

Collision - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3,821

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: Don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but the story takes place before New Moon but after Twilight. It starts at the end of May after the dance, so it’d be the summer before Bella’s birthday in September. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

TikTok • Instagram • Business

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 4

The next time she awoke she was back in sight of the blinding hospital lights. Her head was heavily pounding and the clothes on her body felt alien to her. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the white lights of the sanitized room, but they were suddenly off.

“Back again, Miss Uley?” She recognized the voice, Dr. Cullen. “I’ve already turned the lights off so don’t worry about that.”

Her eyes finally opened to reveal the smooth pale face of the doctor. A wave of calmness rushed over her as soon as her eyes connected with his golden ones.

“What can I say?” She chuckled. “I just couldn’t stay away.”

“Well, it seems you’ve been having a recurring headache, insomnia, memory lapses, and a lack of appetite. It looks like post-concussive syndrome. Your mom told us you were feeling like this for a few days, why didn’t you come back?” Carlisle questioned. He was trying his best to look like he was breathing but if he took even a single breath all his years of self-control would be over in an instant.

“I thought if I could just make it to at least seven days it could clear me from coming back to the hospital, at least as a patient.”

“What do you mean?” This comment had perked the interest of the man. Thoughts raced through his head faster than he could analyze them.

“I was thinking of applying for a medical assistant job here in the hospital. I recently got my degree in biology, and I’ve been thinking of going to medical school after.”

“That sounds like a plan, but let’s work on getting you better first.” It did sound like a good plan to Carlisle. He wanted to be as close as possible to her every single day, but it also meant he would have to work triple as hard to control his thirst. “We’d like to keep you for the next few days and make sure you’re in good health before you can go back to business as usual.”

“How long would a few days be?”

“About four to five days, just to make sure that the symptoms don’t worsen, and we can give you an all-clear.” It would also give him a few days to grow accustomed to her smell. “We can work over that application for medical assistant, make sure it’s something you want to do.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She smiled at the man in front of her, her heart fluttering with every breath she took. “Thank you, Dr. Cullen.”

“Please, call me Carlisle,” he smiled. “Now, why don’t you continue resting, and whatever you need just call. My office is right down the hall, I’ll be here in no time.”

The girl stared at the retreating form of his body and covered the heat that was rising to her face with her pillow. The butterflies in her stomach had made her uneasy and had her hands shaking. She didn’t understand why she was feeling this way. It had only been a week since her first encounter with the doctor, but those few seconds were enough to have her drooling over the man like a lovesick schoolgirl.

A few days had come and gone quickly. (Y/N) had grown attached to Carlisle, seeing and talking to him every day had felt like a dream. In his free time, she would go over to his office and pick a book to read, which they talked about the next day. They spent hours talking about nothing and everything.

It had been a long time since Carlisle had felt this way, centuries. Being around her had gotten easier each day that passed. Her smell becoming comforting instead of a trigger to the endless hunger for human blood – he’d never had a simple drop of it, but nothing could explain how much he wanted to have hers. Getting to know her had been a welcomed activity by the young doctor. He could spend days upon days listening to the sweet sound of her voice, admiring her curious-filled face when she started a new book – which she read swiftly, taking only a couple of hours to finish most of them.

“Can’t believe you have so many first editions, and you leave them at work.” She ran her hand across the spine of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. “I would keep them in a well-preserved chamber, and no one would be able to even breathe on them.”

Carlisle smiled as the girl gawked once again at his book collection. It wasn’t hard to acquire first edition novels when you were alive when they were published. “If you’re impressed by this collection, you’d be completely astonished by the one I have back home.”

“You have more?!” He nodded. The girl shined like a kid on Christmas, her eyes gleaming at the thought of a big library. “Oh, that sounds like a dream.”

“You’re more than welcome to come over any time. It’s always refreshing to meet a literature aficionado such as myself.”

“Really? That’d be amazing!” She grinned brightly. “I could spend all day reading, forget about work.”

The duo laughed. “Too late to withdraw the application but you’re always welcome to pass your downtime in my office.”

“Sounds like a plan,’’ she smiled. “Now, doctor, what will you ever do now that I’m not going to be here every day?”

“Oh, how will I ever go on?” He chuckled. “But if you ever need help during that time, just come by. My office is always open. And hopefully, you’ll visit from time to time on personal time.”

“I’m sure it’s something that can be arranged.”

If there was still blood rushing through his veins, the capillaries in his face would have widened. He felt like he now understood Edward; how being with her made him feel human again. And there was nothing more that he wanted than to take their friendship to another level, but he wasn’t sure if she would ever feel the same. Carlisle knew that she was unaware of the supernatural since (Y/N) had allowed him to be in her life. But what would happen once she knew everything? How could he ever come between her and her family?

“Miss Uley, your mother is here,” a nurse spoke up, peeking her head through the office door. “Discharge papers have already been filed.”

“Thank you, Nurse Dalen. She’ll be out in a moment.” Carlisle smiled.

“Well, the time has come.” (Y/N) took her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to the doctor. He looked at her with a question-ridden gaze. “I’m gonna need your phone number so we can arrange any future endeavors.”

“Right,” he laughed, typing his number into her directory. “I’ll be waiting for that call.”

“I’ll be making it soon enough,” she grinned. “I’m gonna go now. I’ll see you around, Cullen.”

“I’ll see you, Uley.”

She left the office with a huge smile on her face, holding her phone close to her chest. For the first time, she was experiencing something she had heard of most of her teenage years. Once she had met Carlisle all she wanted to do was get to know him better, spend her time with him, just being near him would suffice. It was the first time she was learning what falling for someone was, and even though it was scary, she was jumping in headfirst.

“Hi, honey. Ready to go home?” Allison hugged her daughter for the first time in five days. (Y/N) nodded, truly ready to finally sleep on her own bed.

“So, how are you liking Dr. Cullen?”

“MOM!” Allison laughed at her daughter’s reaction. It was easy to see that (Y/N) had taken a liking to Carlisle Cullen, and vice versa.

“What, darling? If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck.”

“It’s not like that, mom.”

“But you’d like it to be like that.”

“I’m not talking about that with my mother.” (Y/N) placed her cold hands on her cheeks, trying to cool down the warm blood that had rushed onto her cheeks. The cool air of the car’s A/C was only helping her so much.

“I just want you to be careful with that, honey. He’s older than you, technically has kids, and rumor has it he is married.”

A breath hitched in her throat. Married? She knew he had adopted five kids, most of them her age, but not that he was married. Had she read the situation wrong? He didn’t wear a ring, he didn’t mention any relationship, he had no pictures of a woman in his office. Then again, they had only spent five days together at the hospital. She didn’t know what he did when he went home at night, who he went home to at night. (Y/N) shouldn’t feel betrayed—they weren’t anything, and they weren’t on track to become anything.

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ve just been picking his brain about working in the hospital, and he’s been helping me with what I’m gonna be doing this summer.”

“Oh, have you decided what you want to do?”

“I’m gonna get my medical assistant certification. It’s a three-month course then I can work at the hospital.”

“That’s great, honey.” Allison smiled at her daughter from the driver’s side. “Is that where you’d see yourself making a career?”

“Not sure. I want to take this time to see if life in a hospital is truly where I’d like to work – see if medical school would be it for me.”

(Y/N) hadn’t taken the time to focus on her future. In her high school career, she spent her time focusing on the present and piling on as much as she could, and now she had no sense of direction. She would take every day as it came, hoping one day she would find her purpose.

Finally, back home, she hopped off the truck and stretched out her limbs, stiff from the days on a hospital bed. Taking a deep breath of fresh air and basking in the afternoon sun. The cold that had seeped into her bones from the hospital melted off, and she smiled feeling the warmth surround her.

“Why don’t you go upstairs, honey?” Allison told her daughter. “There’s a surprise waiting for you in your room.”

(Y/N) smiled and quickly made her way up the stairs to see what her mom meant. Opening the door, tears forming in her eyes. Her room had done a 180-degree turn. The walls had been painted a light beige color, and plants hung from the walls bringing warmth to the room. The bed was adorned with a white cover, and a fluffy duvet to keep her warm at night. A wooden frame sat atop the bed dressed in white linen and ivy vines. A bookcase lived in the corner of her room, filled to the brim with her collection of hardbacks and peppered with potted plants. Opposite the bed was a small desk with a dark green suede chair, her laptop set up in the workspace. Her room finally felt like hers.

“Do you like it, honey?”

“Mom, did you do this?”

“I wish I could take credit, but your brother and your friend Paul came over when I was at work and redecorated. I was actually surprised that they even came over.”

“I’ll have to thank them,” (Y/N) grinned. Even though their relationship was strained at the moment, and she had yet to see Paul since coming back, she was glad that they had taken time out of their days to do this for her. “I’ll go over to Sam’s house for a bit, maybe now he’ll have time to see me.”

“Why don’t you go tomorrow, honey? You should take it easy.”

“I feel a lot better, mom. You don’t have to worry too much.”

“I’m your mother, I’ll always worry. If you’re gonna go out, go see Jacob. He was really worried about you.”

“I will.”

(Y/N) kissed her mother’s cheek and grabbed her bag to head out. Her first stop was to the Black residence. Jacob saw her coming down the street and ran out to wrap her in a hug. When she collapsed last week, he had been very concerned when she collapsed in his garage. Jacob was glad that she had made a full recovery and was now back home, with minimum side effects showing. The visit was short, only a quick hello to ensure the boy that she was okay.

After spending some time with Jacob, she walked towards Sam’s house – she hoped to catch Paul there too since she had heard he now spent his time there alongside Jared Cameron. It hadn’t clicked in her head why Paul would ever hang out with her brother and Jared. Even when they were back in middle school, he never paid them any mind, having a separate friend group. She had only become his friend by spending time with him away from school, and her brother had always disliked them together, claiming he was a bad influence.

Outside of the small house, (Y/N) could hear the low chatter of manly voices, a higher-pitched one joining after. There was no mistaking that Sam was home. She started feeling nervous as she raised her hand to knock on the door. The shaky limb was able to make contact with the blue door twice before it opened wide open, revealing a shirtless Paul Lahote.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned. Paul knew she was back, but Sam had given him clear instructions to stay away from her due to their situation.

“Hey, Paul. Long time no see, huh?” The girl smiled at her friend that now towered over her. A few years ago, they were still of the same stature, but too much time had passed since then. She went in for a hug, and Paul cut it short – worried she might note his burning temperature. “Is Sam home?”

“Uh, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, turning towards the kitchen. “Sam! (Y/N)’s here.”

The older male appeared in front of them, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Hey, (Y/N). Good to see you’re doing better. What brings you around?”

“I just wanted to thank you both for what you did in my room. Mom told me you worked on it while we were away. It’s a dream.” Sam smiled at his younger sister and shared a hug with the smaller girl.

“I’m glad you liked it, (Y/N). We wanted to give you a place where you could rest better after the accident. It’s the least we could do.” The alpha could hear the duo that was left in the kitchen had grown curious about who was at the door. “Do you want to come in for a bit?”

“Are you really inviting me in?” (Y/N) was taken aback – the last thing she thought was that she would get that invitation.

“Yeah, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Sam responded, keeping his doubts of the encounter to himself.

(Y/N) walked through the threshold and instantly felt the warm aura that emanated from inside of the house. It was a welcoming environment that she had grown to love from her own mother’s house. She walked behind Sam, Paul following behind them. `There was nothing that could prepare her to the sight she was met with.

In front of her stood a beautiful woman. She had tan skin, long black hair, and a beautiful smile. But there was something that stood out to her, something she was sure stood out to everyone – three long gashes ran through the front of her face. Yet, they didn’t distract from the alluring atmosphere that surrounded her. Sam moved to her side, and (Y/N) quickly connected the dots and figured that was Emily Young. The Uley girl wanted to be indifferent to her presence, knowing how one of her friends had been hurt by the union in front of her, she couldn’t help but note the love that radiated from the pair. It had been a long time since she had seen her brother as happy as he looked as he stared at his fiancé.

“(Y/N), it’s an honor to finally meet you.” Emily stretched out her hand towards the girl, which (Y/N) gladly took. “Sam has told me so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” (Y/N) joked. “Hopefully, we’ll have a chance to get to know each other more. I’d love to get to know the woman my brother is set to marry.”

“I’m sure we’ll have enough time now that you’re back.” Emily smiled and grabbed a basket filled with muffins, offering them to the girl. (Y/N) gladly took the baked good in her hand, picking at it and placing the piece in her mouth – a wonderful taste that quickly melted in her mouth. “You’re welcome over any time. Any family of Sam is family to me.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

Not much time passed before Sam had cut the meeting short, claiming there was something important the duo had to do. “We should do this another time, (Y/N). Paul and I have to go.”

“Go where?” (Y/N) questioned. “It’s already night, not much to do.”

“I can’t really tell you, sis. But it’s important.”

“So still guarding secrets?” Sam shrugged. “It’s fine, Sam. I’m growing used to it.”

“(Y/N)…”

“I can take a hint, Sam. I know when I’m not wanted,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for the muffins, Emily. They were divine. I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer and visit sometime soon.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’m sorry we had to cut this short.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you guys.” (Y/N) took her bag and exited the house. She was confused on why Sam had welcomed her in only to have her leave soon after – there was something big he was hiding, and she needed to find out what it was.

“(Y/N), wait up!” Paul jogged up to her, turning her around. “Look, I hope you understand that we’re not trying to push you away on purpose. There are things that Sam is protecting you from.”

“Like what, Paul? What danger could possibly be surrounding us that he would stray from his family?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not my place to tell you, (Y/N). As much as I hate keeping this from you, Sam would not allow it to come from anyone but himself.”

“Are you serious? What kind of power does he have over you?”

“PAUL!” Sam shouted, gaining the attention of his beta. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I hope one day you’ll forgive us.” Paul kissed her forehead and went to meet up with his alpha.

(Y/N) stood still as she watched their bodies disappear into the woods. She debated whether to follow them for a brief second, but she was exhausted. She left back home with a million questions running through her head. The pair of Sam and Paul was a strange view, and she was determined to get to the bottom of things.

When she got home, (Y/N) noticed her mother asleep on the couch, the tv in front of her still playing. The years that passed were clear on her face, the worry that she carried for both her children plastered in the lines of her face. She could see the exhaustion that she held, years of caring for two kids by herself taking a toll on her. (Y/N) grabbed a blanket and laid it on top of her mother’s body, making sure that she was warm during the night. She left a kiss on her cheek, thankful for everything her mother had sacrificed for her.

After showering the day off, (Y/N) changed into her pajamas and laid in bed staring at her phone’s screen. She thought if she stared at it long enough a message would magically pop up. Minutes passed and her phone kept silent, not a single notification appearing on the screen. She scrolled through her directory until it landed on the newest listing. Carlisle Cullen, it read. Her finger clicked on it and selected new message.

Her fingers danced atop the keyboard of her phone, no words coming to her mind to send to the doctor. Should she even send him a message? What if he truly was married? She would never want to come between a couple. But her fingers did not follow her thought train. Unconsciously, they started typing away a message and before she could analyze her actions, she sent the message.

Hi, Carlisle. It’s (Y/N). I made it home okay and don’t have any symptoms, seems like you fixed me up! Anyways, wanted to know if you possibly had some free time this weekend to join me for some dinner at La Bella Italia. Hope you had a good rest of the day at work!

Her jaw fell when her screen read message sent. There was no way to delete it now. It was out there, and it would make its way to his phone. (Y/N)’s head fell onto her pillow and muffled a scream that escaped from her throat. This feeling was alien to her, and she was learning what steps to take to grow closer to the astonishing man. Minutes felt like an eternity to (Y/N), thinking that she had imploded the friendship she had built with the man over the past week.

Beep.

The sound from her phone caught her attention. She scrambled for her phone and quietly shrieked at the words on her screen.

Hello, (Y/N). I’m glad you’re feeling better, hopefully, no symptoms will arise once more. And I did have a good day at work, although I missed our afternoon book chats. I have a free day on Sunday. Tell me a time and I can meet you in Port Angeles. Hope that day is good for you.

“He said yes. If he were actually married, he wouldn’t have said yes,” she thought.

So, she typed back.

I’m glad you had a good day, and the book chats have an easy fix. I’m just a phone call away. As for Sunday, it’s a perfect day. I think around 5:30 would be a good time for dinner. Let me know if it works.

Sent.

Seconds later, another beep.

I’ll make sure to schedule those calls then. 5:30 sounds perfect. I’ll see you there. Have a good night, (Y/N).

See you then, Carlisle. Good night. 😊

(Y/N) smiled at her phone, joy wanting to burst from her body. She was reveling in this new feeling and the happiness it brought her. If it was Carlisle, it was worth it, she believed.

That night she went to sleep with the biggest smile she had experienced in her life. Unbeknownst to the life-changing moments that were to follow this meeting.

Tag List: @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @imaginetwilight2704 @jessicas-undrground @hey-you-therexo @mauvette268 @mxyee @beefwhobarksandisalilmadalot

[visd3stele]

don't love me like that - young!Sirius centered, but the marauders and the girls are very involved as well

summary: Sirius left you the day of the Yule Ball for some random girl. But what if there's more to it than that.

TW: themes and implications of sexual assault, abuse and rape male survivor, nothing descriptive, but quite clear; under age drinking (barely)

A/N: I don't know what this is. I felt bad, I made one of the most traumatized characters I love feel even worse. Sorry?

However, I kinda like it. I hope it's not too bad.

ps: requests still open

masterlist

The last year always brings out superlatives. The best parties, the most emotional ceremonies, the craziest experiences.

And in y/n's case, the worst heartbreak. She hated that it hurted so much she had to spend the Yule Ball in her dorm. Alone. It's not like she didn't date before starting going out with bloody Sirius Black. But none of those relationships ended so badly. So painfully and humiliating for her. And if she was to be honest with herself, none mattered as much.

Despite dating Sirius for one full year and exactly two months, he meant the world to y/n. As sappy as it sounds, the seventeen year old fell too hard in love with the Black charm. So brave and daring. Such a raw intelligence shaped specifically for irony and fun. He's been funny and kind and loving. And his fierce loyalty shattered the last shred of resistance. She allowed Sirius Orion Black to have her whole heart.

Y/n scoffed. One furious palm wiped hot tears away from her flushed face. Kind and loving and brave and loyal. Please! He couldn't even end things with her before bringing that menger to the ball.

The scene was on repeat every time y/n close her eyes. Every time she didn't close her eyes. All it'd take to remember, really, would be one misplaced flying thought. And unfortunately, she had plenty of those.

James, Peter, Remus and Lily waited with y/n for Sirius. The last Quidditch training would start in five minutes. Then, they'd all be free to get ready for the Yule Ball that night.

None of them wanted to think about what'd happen next. Winter holidays, one last Hogwarts semester and that was it. They'd leave the place they called home for seven years and stumble in the big, wide, mean world. Despite each of them knowing they'll still have each other, the fear of breaking ties gathered like a fog over the usually merry group.

"Come on, lads," James tried to lighten the mood. "And beautiful lasses" – he added – "we can't play like this." He then proceed to make funny faces, darting his eyes in different direction and pocking out his tongue. While Lily and y/n laughed, Remus rolled his eyes, a soft, yet obvious smile dancing on his face. But Peter only stretched his lips thin and huffed in what was supposed to be a short laugh.

No inquiers were made, whatsoever, as Sirius digned proper to appear only one minute left until practice. Seeing him in the distance, y/n moved to hug him. She was cut short in her attempt by the sickening sight in front of her. A girl with black, lean hair, perfectly ironed clothes and a mean demeanour around her kissed him. Kissed Sirius, her boyfriend, right in front of her. And Sirius kissed her back. For what turned into the longest seconds in y/n's life.

The whole group frowned when Sirius brought the girl in their midst. "What the bloody hell, Padfoot?" James exclaimed. Y/n was too taken aback to say - or do - anything. She just stared and stared at her boyfriend's one arm thrown over the girl's shoulder, one casually holding his broom and Quidditch equipment. As if he didn't just openly cheat on her.

"What's the matter with you, Prongs?" Sirius asked after he hugged his new girl and sent her on her way, with the promise to bring her favorite flowers to the ball.

"What's the matter? What do you mean? She is the matter! Who even is she, Padfoot?"

As y/n found out the next day she and Sirius started dating, the Black House's heir has been pinning over her for as long as James has been pinning over Lily. Except he didn't want to accept that at first. But when he finally did, James became his and y/n's greatest supporter. He was as offended as y/n at Sirius' behavior.

"My date for tonight, Prongs. Come on, be nicer, mate."

He completely ignored his girlfriend. Or ex girlfriend, as it proved more accurately. Y/n couldn't take it anymore and took off towards the school. The last thing she heard before being overwhelmed by her own mind was Remus pushing everyone in the training field, claiming they'll have a serious talk after Quidditch. When everyone would be too tired to keep up lie after lie.

And here she has been ever since. Y/n could hear the music downstairs and cursed her brain for plaguing her mind with unwanted images: her and Sirius the last Yule Ball, dancing and spinning mindlessly on songs they didn't know how to dance to. Laughing as Peter accidentally got drunk on their snuggled in scotch, with Remus keeping an eye close to him and making sure no professor picks on what happened. Talking with Lily as Sirius and James got lost in their stories, but not minding what bit as her boyfriend's arm rested comfortably on her thigh, circling her waist. And how she and Sirius continued their night...

All memories y/n wanted to rip her heart out for, if it meant she'd stop crying over them. Especially when she imagined that girl in her place, leaning obscenely on her Sirius, wrapping her hands around his neck to kiss him, inviting to more. Try as hard as she might, y/n couldn't stop thinking about later that night. When they'd go in some private, romantically obscure place and...

"Hmmm!" Y/n moaned in a chaotically mix of heartbreak, jealousy and an acute feeling of powerlessness.

Lily offered to stay with her. Marlene, Dorcas and Mary did too. Remus tried to coax her to come to the ball. He promised he'd be there for her the whole night, making sure no sight of Sirius would be allowed to reach her. Peter thought it'd be nice to take y/n away from Hogwarts for the night. Go to Hogsmeade together. But she refused. She even talked James out of beating back sense into his best friend's thick head.

She could imagine him too. Sulking at a table where he forbid Sirius to sit, frowning at the happy pair. And to be honest, y/n's mind didn't drift too far from the truth. For at the party downstairs, James Potter did just that.

"What's wrong with you, Prongs?" Sirius asked as he bumped into his friend and Lily on the dance floor. His date excused herself to get some drinks, leaving a clear opening for the marauders and their closest friends to get a word or two with Sirius.

"I can't believe you, Padfoot! You cheated. On y/n out of all people, too. How- why?"

"You don't get it, James. I love her."

When James only scuffed, Lily jumped in. "Oh, congratulations! We didn't know that. It's not like you planned to tell y/n the same thing tonight. But what do I know about love, anyway?" Her sharp voice was laced with sarcasm, rendering Sirius speechless for a moment. He hadn't heard Lily use that tone with him from the bickering and arguments with Prongs era, when she'd try and protect Snivellus from their nasty pranks.

In fact, he was so astonished he didn't notice Remus carefully studying him from their sides. "What's up with you, Moony? One might think you'd be happier she's out on the market again." It was hard to tell who gasped the loudest. Who's hands it was that connected with Sirius' cheek in an echoing slap. Who murmured "To hell with you, Black" and who tugged a fuming Lily Evans and James Potter away. Probably Wormtail, as Remus stayed behind, lost in concentration as wrinkles deepened the frown at his brows.

"Hey, guys, have you noticed Padfoot's eyes?" The werewolf asked later that night. Dorcas and Marlene retreated to their room earlier, wanting to have some time alone. Mary and Peter sipped from their scotch at the food table, deep in conversation. That left him third wheeling James and Lily. Though after the confrontation with Sirius they both wasted their night monitoring and discussing his every move. A few minutes before, he and his date disappeared as well, steps counted with glares from afar.

"No," Lily spit out.

"Couldn't look him in the eyes, Moony," James sighed. His shoulders slumped in defeat now that his energy was gone and all that remained was disappointment in his closest friend.

"And see what? That smug gleam in them? Amusement?"

"Or worse. Real love for that girl."

"Oh, please, James. He just talked with us yesterday about the best way to tell y/n he loves her. All that talk about how he wants to surprise her with something special and romantic. And for what?"

"Exactly!" Remus saw his chance to interfere. "Feelings don't just go away. And Padfoot may have been a ladies man, but he's not heartless."

"What do you mean, Moony?"

"Something is off, Prongs. Very, very wrong. I'm telling you, his eyes are not right."

"Yeah, too many petty lies can do that." It seemed Lily took more convincing, but Remus would make her listen too.

"Come on, Lils. What color are Sirius' eyes?" And when the redhead didn't answer, he added "Please, humor me."

"Grey," Evans sighed.

"Yes, well, tonight were blue. Granted, a pale blue, the difference almost insidious. But I bet you the color was changed this morning too."

Lily frowned. She hasn't seen that, but then again, werewolves do have a slightly better sight. When she turned to James, wanting to ask what he thinks of it, she saw her boyfriend's smile lit up, lightening the whole room. He loves his friend, his brother really, so much. He doesn't want to believe he's anything but a great person.

So she agrees to help them figure out what was wrong with Sirius Orion Black, on one condition. They don't tell y/n until they have a clear path.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Y/n walked aimlessly on the fields around Hogwarts. She needed to clear her head and snow and the winter chill would help her achieve that. Her luck was short lived, though, when she spotted the pair by the school's old stone walls. Sirius and his new girlfriend - none of her friends bothered to remember her name - were kissing passionately.

Sirius was backed by the girl, probably because the bricks were too uncomfortable for her. Leaning down to drop kisses on her jawline, working his way down on her throat, Sirius whispered something in her ear. She pulled herself up, circling his neck and bit his earlobe, biting her lips with a playful smile. Y/n could hear their giggles, could feel the sexual tension emanated by their stupid horny selves.

Kicking an innocent pile of snow she turned away. Within seconds she entered the hallway, Marlene and Dorcas pulled her aside.

"Whoa, where's the fire, gals?"

"Run first, questions later."

"And answers soon, we hope."

Y/n couldn't stop the pang she felt watching the two lovebirds, so in sync, finishing each other ideas, abducting friends together, laughing and being happy. She felt terrible for being jealous on two of her closest friends, but she didn't dwell on it as Marlene and Dorcas led her to the library.

The picture in front of you should have been immortalized: Peter spread on the floor, arms and legs wide apart next to a table stuffed to full capacity. In between books - both closed and opened - Remus frantically waved to empathize something to James, while Potter, seated on a clear table corner, simply stared at his friend with a look on his face y/n found hard to place. As she entered, Peter got up, straightening his clothes, Remus and James kept talking and Lily came from a raw of books, carrying a pile of them, and slumped next to Remus on an empty chair.

Marlene cleared her throat at the same time Dorcas said "Look who's here, pals."

On cue six pairs of eyes focused on y/n, Peter having spotted her seconds earlier. "Y/n!" Remus rose, almost pushing down the towers of books on the table. He stepped towards y/n, shacking on his legs from having set still on that chair for so long.

"Easy, there, wolfie," Y/n smiled weakly. She only called Remus by that nickname when the only people around to hear were the marauders and the four amazing Gryffindor girls that spent time with them. She was glad to see her friends supported her on this, although a darker side of her reveled to know they took her side over Sirius'. Despite having known him longer.

Now that she thought about it, y/n realized her ex didn't seem so upset about it. As if he didn't notice the loss of his best friends, too wrapped around the new girl. That was out of character, just as much as cheating. But she supposed that if Sirius went down that path, then why not do it fully? Ditch her, ditch his group... no. That can't be right!

Just as she thought that, James shouted from over his place on the table "Sirius' not well, y/n!"

Lily pinched his arm, throwing him a look that clearly said he either keeps quiet and takes things one step at time, either she's dragging him out of this. Whatever this was.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" Y/n's voice shook a bit, but not so much in pain as dread and worry filled.

They all exchanged looks. Peter glanced over at James, who peaked at Lily. Evans gaze fixed on Mary who read silently, lips moving with the words. But her eyes drifted too, back and forth from Marlene and Dorcas. Marlene stared at Remus, who's eyes were locked on y/n and Dorcas took in the entire room.

"What's going on?" Y/n asked again, when it was clear, from those odd looks, that her friends have been keeping things from her and didn't know how to tell her.

"I noticed something off at the Yule Ball. And, well, we did some research these past ten days. We've got good news - sort of - and bad news."

When y/n didn't reply, Lily took over. "We believe Sirius is under the influence of a love potion. Not a light magic kind, but dark and disturbing."

"Moony noticed Padfoot's eyes weren't their usual color and so we start reading on it. And we found about this disgusting thing."

Peter begin to explain the potion to y/n. The mix needed a drop of blood from the person brewing it, one from the person it's meant for, and too many plants to be memorized. But what ringed the alarm for everyone was the blood part. Blood is used in bonding, ties that last for eons. The liquid vital for life infuses magic on such a personal level, only the most powerful bonding spells require it. That is if one's not mingling with dark magic. That's a whole other story. In wrong hands, blood magic offers a wizard or a witch the power to control someone. Some times, the victims are aware they've become a puppet, some other times they just follow a thread blindly. But both ways, it's horrible to imagine having no real control.

And to think this was happening to Sirius... y/n's eyes filled with tears. A very dark and disgusting love potion indeed. Dorcas handed her a handkerchief when Marlene spoke.

"It was forbidden a long time ago, but it was used to make pure blood wives more, umm, willing to obey their husbands. That happened in the 1500's, really. No one should have used it since then. We don't know how that bloody b..."

"That's enough. Y/n doesn't need to hear all that. The point is, she found the receipt in one of these books. And that means the antidote must be here as well." Mary kindly said, putting her book down to rub y/n's back.

"But you didn't find it yet?" she asked. The shook slowly wear off, leaving more than enough space for anger and rage and hatred. That snake intoxicated her boyfriend and is taking advantage of it for two weeks. It's time to stop!

"Sorry, y/n." Remus said. He looked horrible. They all did. Y/n didn't know when they slept less, or eaten a proper meal. She wondered how they managed to show up in class at all. And she has been so lost in her sadness, so eager to believe the worst of Sirius that she didn't help them. She did nothing to save him, she didn't even saw something was wrong.

"Y/n? Don't worry, we'll find our way through it." Lily came closer to squeeze her friend's hand.

"Yeah. And after that we'll make her pay for what she did to Padfoot."

On that, Potter, we can fully agree, y/n thought darkly. She picked up one of the books Lily brought and start reading. Her blood boiled in her veins. Her heart thrummed against her ribcage. Begging her to get up and do something. Preferably punching that menger in the face until she'll have enough blood for a room of evil love potions, but not the energy or possibility to make them. But she pushed the image aside from now, forcing her brain to focus on reading. If they can't find a cure, nothing else would matter.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

It was six days later when Marlene brought her a cup of black tea, unsweetened, with no milk, how she took it lately, its bitter taste keeping her up to research, that y/n tossed the tower of books off the desk. All except one. The tea spilled on the floor and Marlene yelled in pain as one of the thick, dusty book fell on her toe, but y/n didn't registered that.

"I found it!" She whisper shouted. And McKinnon could only smile largely and run to get the others.

Lily and Peter were in charge of making the potion, being the best ones in their midst. "Mary, Dorcas and I can keep her at bay, sweets."

"And Prongs and I will distract Padfoot. Enough for you to switch his drink at dinner with the cure spiced water."

"And then, we get revenge."

"No, James. Then we tell Dumbledore."

"Please, Mary, she won't confess." Dorcas added.

"We make her confess." Y/n said, taking the cure and the glass from Evans and Wormtail and getting ready to fulfill her part. She rushed in the dining room to catch a seat next to Sirius. As promised, the three girls blocked her view, choosing a spot in front of her usual seat at the Slytherin table.

Furious, the potion girl tried to move to the Gryffindor's benches, meaning to take Sirius on a special kind of feast in her room. But Remus and James flanked him. Talking so loudly, the girl's presence misted in the spray of bodies gathered already for supper. And then, the booming voice of Dumbledore asked everyone to sit and eat.

Y/n watched as Sirius took a gulp of antidote water at her side. Her left foot kept hitting the ground faster and faster. She ran out of nails to bite on her fingers, so she was chewing on her hair when it happened. Sirius blinked once and something in his eyes cleared, like a vail being ripped from them. He blinked twice and that dark, piercing grey returned. He blinked thrice and frowned.

In their research, none of the marauders nor the girls did find anything to explain what exactly happened during and after someone took the dark love potion. And there were even less notes on what'd happen after taking the cure.

"Padfoot?" James asks softly, seeing y/n was tongue tied with pain and relief.

"Yeah, Prongs?" Sirius breathed.

"How are you doing, mate?"

"Fine."

"You sure, Black?" Marlene chimed in. Sirius only nodded. "What do you remember of the past weeks?"

He didn't answer. The disowned heir of the House of Black cringed. He turned towards y/n, ready to apologies, even if it'd do no good. It couldn't possibly make up for how he acted. Nothing could. He let that girl touch him, kiss him. Hell, they did more than that and he knew y/n and everyone else was aware of it. And all because he's been stupid and a dumb idiot to not notice the funny taste of his drink that day. And how his heart beat fast, his body shook with lust and desire when she brushed her hips on his, leaning to whisper in his ear sweet nonsense.

He should have resisted. He should have known and get away. Do something. Instead, he let it all happen. He took her to Quidditch, all touchy and grossly close. He made out with her in front of y/n, he ignored her, he was mean to his friends. How - why would they forgive him? Even if they saved him – Sirius couldn't understand why, he deserved it for being careless and dangerously brainless.

"I'm so sorry", he muttered, eyes fixed on fidgeting fingers in his lap. He wanted to say more, but his mind turned into a foggy, obscure window, stopping thoughts from connecting and words from flying through. "I'm sorry."

Y/n shook her head. She flexed her arms, shacking them at her side, in an attempt to decide of reaching for him would be the best course of action or not. She decided against it and instead relied on words to get Sirius attention.

"Hey," she whispered, voice thick and heavy "hey, look at me, my love. You have nothing to apologies for. It wasn't your fault."

A sound of approval came from all their friends. James patted him on his shoulder, pulling him in a tight hug. Peter reached to ruffle his hair. Remus squeezed his arm and the girls smiled hesitantly at him. The worry looks, the love and pity in those eyes, Sirius balled his fists to keep his body under control. His heart threatened to drop in his stomach, tears stung his eyelids, head felt like it could fall off any minute. But the second he looked at y/n, his self control flattened. Sirius flinched.

He didn't mean to. He thought he learned how to deal with body responses already. But his girlfriend – was she still his girlfriend? Should she be when he did nothing to ensure it? To deserve her? – looked so pained. As if his hurt was hers too.

Her teeth pierced in her bottom lip as she tried to focus on him through the water in her eyes. Y/n refused to let if fall, however. Her body stood still and stiff, fingers digging in her thighs and legs bouncing up and down under the table. She kept swallowing. How should she act to comfort Sirius?

Before the answer could reach her, he got up, murmured "I'm not hungry" and left. Any joy y/n have felt died then.

"I'm going to kill her" James barked out. And this time, everyone in their group nodded seriously in agreement.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Y/n didn't wait around much longer. She rose from her sit and ran after Sirius. Winter just claiming its rights on mother nature, snowflakes fell at an ungodly pace. The sky turned dark blue hours ago and the shadows of the night made it hard enough to see without the chaotically attack of small bits of snow from above.

But, motivated as she was, y/n managed to spot Sirius. The seventeen year old boy hugged himself against the cold, frozen in place as if exhaustion clung its claws in him mid running, cutting off his destination and stopping him on the pathway.

Y/n cursed herself for not getting a blanket along. She pondered turning back and picking one up, but thunder roared in her ears at the though of leaving Sirius alone for one more second.

"My love?" Y/n tried to carry her voice over to him. "Can we talk?"

"I'm so sorry, y/n" Sirius said, not turning towards her.

"No, love. You have nothing to apologies for. Really."

"I cheated on you. How can you say that?"

"No, you didn't. She forced your hand, literally." Y/n said, failing to soften the sharp edge in her voice. When Sirius winced, she swore under her breath. "I'm not angry at you, my love. I loath her! I hate what she did to you, but you have no fault in it."

"I didn't notice she spiced my drink. I didn't know any better when she hexed me with that bloody potion. I should have. I should have stopped her, do something."

Y/n walked the few steps separating them and placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "You cannot blame yourself for that, my love. Please, know that."

He shook off y/n's hand. "You don't get it, y/n. I saw you running away, crying. I took her to the ball and told her and everyone that I loved her. The first time I say that to someone and it wasn't you. It should have been you. And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for hurting you and I hate myself for not being smarter, paying more attention."

Y/n's lips quivered. The tremble in his voice, the sound of tears in it broke something vital in her. Yet, she couldn't hug him, he didn't want her to. And she had to fight her body to respect his wish.

"I don't. Sirius, I don't hate you."

"I wish I could turn back time. I wish it never happened."

"I know, my love. I do too. We all do. But it did and we can't change it. We can only move forward. Hating yourself won't do."

"I can't just stop how I'm feeling."

"Yes, I know. However," y/n trailed off, positioning herself in front of him. She reached out her hands, which he reluctantly take in his own. "will you try to turn that hate into love again?"

"I don't think I can."

"I'm here for you, Sirius. We all are: Lily, James, Remus, Marlene, Peter Dorcas, Marlene and Mary. Whatever you need, name it. We'll move mountains to get it."

Sirius shook his head. "Don't press. Just- just act normal around me, please."

"Normal", y/n nodded. "Sure. we can do that." She said smiling sadly up at him. The boy looked away. "Y/n..."

She cursed under her breath. The pitiful glances, the hesitant touches, the teary smiles, all of it put him on edge. More than his thoughts already did. "Sorry." And as she said it, she stepped closer. Arms raising to hug him around the waist, y/n rested her head on his shoulder, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Love you."

Slowly, but surely, Sirius' arms went around y/n as well. Once that step has been made, he quickly pushed his head in the crook of her neck, feeling the softness of her hair around his face. In the newly found warmth, Sirius allowed hot tears to fall.

"I love you too, y/n." His voice has been barely audible, but she heard. And she hugged him tighter in response.

It'd take time, y/n knew that, but she will make sure Sirius would be himself again.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

As for that wretched girl...

Sirius didn't want to involve Dumbledore or the Magic Ministry. Godric forbid his family hears about it! As for school's professors, he considered telling Minerva McGonagall, but no one else. And he dreaded the student's reaction.

"Can we just forget about it?" He'd say all the time someone brought justice up. "Please. I just want to forget the whole stupid thing and move on." His heart would beat faster every time the subject is addressed. And yet, instead of heat of embarrassment, he felt ice rushing in his veins. He'd pale slightly, despite being sure shame would color his cheeks. For a moment, in its rapid thuds against his ribs, Sirius' heart still managed to loop around and skip a beat. And then sweat would run freely down his body, cold on his frozen skin.

The response was different from each person. Marlene would claim he needs to speak up, make a statement. If no one knows about it, more accidents can happen. Especially with those books still in the library.

"Leave him be, McKinnon." James got tired of saying this line. He and the rest of the marauders didn't know how to handle the situation, so whatever Sirius said would help him, they did. No questions? What is that a question? Just act normal? Sure! Nothing happened, all is good, Padfoot! When he mumbled things and twitch slightly as people brushed too close to him, the marauders wouldn't make a spectacle out of how they push them aside and made space. And they tried to conceal the worried glances when he'd flinch after Lily or any of the other girls hugged him.

Dorcas supported her girlfriend, though her tone was much gentler. "This must be so awful for you, Black. But won't talking about it, opening up, help you?"

"Thanks, Dorcas. But I get a headache just thinking about how to put it in words. How I feel, I mean. It'll pass, anyway."

Mary and y/n didn't push. They sat back, observing, trying to make out what triggered bad memories, what pulled him back in those two terrible weeks and coming up with ways to avoid it without being too obvious.

Lily never took a stance. She tried to figure out a way to get back at that girl and getting rid of those books. One that didn't involve adults, or people knowing about her stunt with blood magic.

Sirius and y/n were trying to get back their routine. Act the way the always had around each other. But even though she promised she'd be normal, no pity no fussing over him, no worry obvious in her demeanor, she couldn't help the nervousness. She thought twice every time she kissed him if he didn't initiate him. She thought twice where to place her hands when cuddling. If he'd try to get things further with her, she'd panic. Would it be too soon? Clearly Sirius wants to erase the days with the Slytherin evil queen, but that's not so easy to do and y/n has never been more afraid to accidentally hurt someone she loved so much.

However she did make a good job hiding it. Of course she did! She's not the victim here and Sirius needs her support not her own made-up troubles.

And as days passed and Sirius seemed to actually feel better, they dropped the extra care and the subject. Until one day when snow was racing to the ground that things changed and a very clear idea of revenge begin taking form in their circle.

"It's heavy snowing outside, ye merry lads and lasses!" Peter happily exclaimed from his sit near the window.

"Heavenly snowing, you mean." Dorcas sighed.

With all the joy around her, the bickering of her friends, their smiles and content exchange of words, y/n couldn't return the feeling. They were all in the classroom, waiting for professor McGonagall to show up. All except Sirius. And y/n had a bad gut calling about it.

Unfortunately, she proved to be right. Because right on the pathway towards the school, she cornered her boyfriend. Raw rage heated y/n's face, boiling her blood and making her see red. The girl twisted a long straw of black hair around her finger and the only thing y/n could think about was twisting her head like that. The girl reached for one of Sirius' curls and it was enough to put y/n on her feet and fast on her way outside, with nothing on but school robes.

"Come on, Sirius dear." Y/n heard the black haired girl purr, stepping closer and closer to Sirius with each step.

"Just leave me alone, for Godric's sake." He walked further away from her, trying to set a distance between them. When he realized that's a futile effort he forced out a steady "Please!"

The crack in his voice could have passed unnoticed by someone who didn't know Sirius Orion Black. But it couldn't fool y/n.

"When someone tells you no, creep, under any way, shape and/or form, you back off!"

"I wasn't talking to you, mud blood." The girl sneered at her. Y/n simply locked her arm with Sirius, who looked embarrassed, but relieved nonetheless. His girlfriend shoot him a soft, sweet look, lips curved upwards and brows raised in what she hoped would show exactly how sorry she was for the whole situation. He placed a hand over hers and squeezed, shacking his head. It didn't bothered him that y/n stood up for him. The mere memory of happened, what that girl did to him just set him in a defensive uproar.

"Mhm, I know." Satisfied to see she and Sirius were on good terms, y/n allowed her expression to fall into hate and disgust as she turned to face glaring witch. "You were just harassing my boyfriend. Which ends now."

"Or else?"

She shouldn't have said that.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

That night, three marauders and five nasty girls snuck up in the Slytherin rooms. Wands at ready, explicit plan infused in their memories more potent than any lesson taught by Slughorn. There is a thin line between a joke and cruelty. A mean prank can be just that, a mean prank. But one single push is all it takes to transform it into something vicious. The eight teens knew it well - a story for another time, involving a certain half blood Slytherin - but this time, they wanted to take it that far. Revenge and justice are not the same, no. The former tastes better served cold. And enough time has passed for it to be considered as such.

The group, usually casual and carefree, now ferocious and ferm, approached one of the beds. They slipped over the floor in a silence no one'd thought possible from them. Wands up, their lips moving slightly but the sound barely coming out at all, the witches and wizards in the seventh year casted the spell "Wingardium leviosa." Easy, first year level, but exactly the simplicity they needed.

Sooner rather than later the dark magic girl found herself hovering about twenty meters in the sky. The marauders and their girls grinned savagely at her shadow, running over blueish grass, green only where the moon rays touched. Right in the arms - branches - of the Weeping Willow. The tree whistled awake when the light body hit it. It curved its hard bark, pressing splinters in the soft skin, scratching open the nightgown and drawing blood.

The girl fought with it, earning a colorful bruise on her cheek and a cut lip. But before the tree could make any more damage, another whispered, yet ferm command moved her above the lake. As one, Sirius' friends dropped her in the water. During the cold days of december, a thin layer of water freeze. Not enough to skate over, or support anything but a leaf weight. So when the floating witch hit the surface, ice dragged her under. Blocks of it slashed her sides, sending chills through her body. But the worst of it was how terribly hard the ice made it for her to swim and keep her head up. Legs kicked and kicked under water, but her arms were severely restrained her movement. She'd be purple and green and yellow all over when she'd get out, considering how many times she hit the ice.

Bringing her out, James, Peter, Remus, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and y/n formed a barrier, closing her in between them and the liquid cold hell she just escaped. "This is just the beginning. We can do so much more damage if you go anywhere near Sirius again."

"I am helping him, you filthy blood traitors!" Water dripped from her hair, wet strands of it spreading over her face like thick, dark veins. "Hanging out with mud bloods and half breeds is beneath Sirius Orion Black. Dating someone like me might even get him his title back." Her voice rose to a high pitched screech. "The heir of such an ancient, noble wizarding house is no joke! If you care about him you'd help me show him the right path for someone of his birth status: the values and believes of a pure blood heir." When she was done, the girl tried to arrange her nightgown properly. Though drenched in water as it was, ripped at bits by the Willow and soaked with her own sweat while fighting to break free of their charms made it very difficult.

"Oh, and does any of those values and believes support rape?"

"It wasn't that," she stopped in the middle of brushing her hair off her face. "How dare you suggest that I...?"

"No? But what was it, then? Because basically drugging him and taking advantage of him while Sirius' in a state he clearly cannot consent is exactly that!"

By the time y/n has been done, arms crossed over her chest, an unexpected guest showed up. James and Peter cursed, the former a loud yell, the latter a muttered swear under his breath. Marlene, Dorcas and Mary surveyed him, while Lily and Remus took y/n by the shoulders and turned her towards where Sirius stood. His eyes were wide open, glistening in the moonlight. Bags of purple colored skin stood witness for too many sleepless nights. His hair was ruffled by the wind, but he didn't seem to register the cold. Not when his lips trembled and his head shook violently in disbelief at his friends' betrayal.

"I told you to let it go." Sirius spoke, and despite the weak tone of his voice, it boomed in the utter silence that fell over the small group.

"Sirius," y/n tried. She didn't know what she'd have said, but she didn't need to figure it out as he stopped her.

"No, y/n, just no." He glanced at everyone, hurt leaking from his eyes like a stream of unsaid words trapped in a sticky, nasty web. "I asked you to leave it be." And with that, he was gone.

This time, everyone followed after him. They figured the incident would reach Dumbledore eventually and they'd get her to confess then. Which it happened the following spring. They must truly have frightened her! But no one remembers the witch being dealt with, or the books.

Anyway, in that moment, the three wizards and the five girls hurried beside a tall, slumped and shaking shadow of their friend.

"We were just trying to help."

"Help, right. But on your terms, right?"

"Padfoot, wait!"

"I was better wasn't I?" Sirius asked suddenly turning towards them, taking his group by surprise. "Wasn't I?" Sensing the crushing, y/n leaped to him, tugging his head close in the crock of her neck and hugging him tight.

A tremor passed through the Black House's disowned heir body, letting go of all the bottled up feelings he debated on his own. Tears ran down his face, red nose pushing further in the safety cover of y/n's hair.

Soon, James, Remus and Peter joined the hug. Reluctantly, the girls threw their arms around them too, leaning their heads in comfort on the pile of bodies and hands comfortably mingled together.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you like that" Sirius voice ranged again in the silence of the marauder's shared room.

"Oh, please, Padfoot." Peter said. "Don't."

"Yeah, if anything we should be the ones to apologies." Remus added. And James nodded along, if only to wipe that hurt look off his brother's face. He still thought the witch had it coming. Had far more and far worse coming.

"You weren't supposed to find out, in our defense." Marlene offered.

"Not like this anyway," Dorcas agreed. Both girls earned a kick in their legs and a frown from Mary.

"How are you feeling?" Lily asked, concern coating her words. Even though y/n remained silent, avoiding her boyfriend's eyes in shame of letting her temper get the best of her and screw up majestically, she wanted to know the answer too. She walked over to the window, right next to Sirius' bed, watching intensely a race of melted snowflakes sliding on the glass.

The others followed her example, giving their friend as much space as they could without making it painfully obvious.

"I'm not sure." He said at last. "The memories are foggy still, but they get clearer and clearer. And there's so much anger. I hate what I did and how I hurted you... all, I mean," he was quick to point out after a meaningful glance towards y/n. Sirius licked his dry lips, preparing to continue. "I feel so stupid and powerless. How come I let her mess with my drink? And how did I not notice I'm not in love with her?"

"The potion is strong, Sirius." Lily said. "It's not your fault."

"Definitely, Padfoot. None of us would have catch on either."

"And to be honest, meals are indeed a chaos. Of course she had the chance to pour it in your cup. It could have been very well either of us." Remus chimed in.

"You're only fault is being too fine, Black." Marlene managed to get a real, if small smile out of Sirius.

"And we're not holding anything against you, Padfoot." Peter started, only for Mary to murmur a "Duh" that stretched that smile a little more upward. It was gone in less than a second, however, when Sirius spoke again. "She stole my Yule Ball night. My last Yule Ball night. I was supposed to - wanted to - spend it with y/n. All of it. Instead I told her" he spat the word, "that I loved her. It should have been y/n. It should have been you." He looked directly at his girlfriend when he whispered the last sentence.

Y/n did not reply. She gave herself some time to think of what to say - and how to phrase it. Silence was dutifully filled by Lily. "Sirius, y/n already said she doesn't blame you. Nor does she holds it against you."

"And she doesn't hate you for what happened. If anything, she..."

"... forgives you." Y/n talked over Dorcas.

"Exact- what?" The whole room looked at her as if she's crazy, but y/n fixed Sirius with her eyes and didn't look anywhere else but into his own as she made her way to the edge of the bed and crunched down in front of her boyfriend.

"I forgive you, my love, even if there's nothing I can possibly think what for. But I do." Sirius has asked for forgiveness because part of him blamed himself. A part of him that wouldn't go away until forgiveness is granted. And maybe Sirius needs to forgive himself too, maybe y/n wants him to realize he did nothing wrong. But she can't force him to think like her. So if that is what he wants - needs - to hear to start healing, she'll give him that. Because it's not about her right now, about what she or anyone else thinks. And the sooner y/n and her friends' understand that, the sooner they can actually start helping Sirius work through everything.

"So you can stop worrying about me, my love. Got it?" Sirius nodded, sliding off the mattress to hug his girl. The force of that hug caused y/n to tumble on her knees, dragging the boy she loved so much it hurt with her.

"Sor- "he started.

"Don't you dare finish it." Y/n pointed a finger at him, one eyebrow getting lost in her hair while softly pocking Sirius in his chest. And he laughed. A true, joyous laugh, head tilted back, rendering him breathless and producing more tears to keep company to the remnants of the ones from before.

As if the bell like sound tugged at a loose thread, taking more and more with it, everyone burst into laughing. Crazy, free, unstoppable laughing. The snow tingled outside, falling harder and lingering on the still opened window on its way to the ground. As if the sky wanted to join them in their youth.

When the sound died down, rendered to isolated chuckles and sighs here and there, Sirius turned a questioning loom around the room. His friend's nodded, leaving James the honor to voice what each of them thought: "We forgive you too, Padfoot, but only if you can grant it to yourself as well."

Because that'd mean one step closer to seeing the truth. He was wronged by, did nothing wrong himself. And that would mean he'd truly get better. Heal.

Sirius pursed his lips, considering. Can he do that? Allow them to lift the weight of guilt off his shoulders just like that? No, not just let his friends do it for him, but working side by side with them. The seventeen year old surveyed the room. From the daring look on Marlene's face to Peter's hopefully one to her right. From Dorcas and Mary who stared at him expectantly to Remus who smiled encouragingly at him and Lily who nodded her head, obviously unaware of it. Sirius' glance lingered more on James, his brother who took him in and offered him shelter when he needed it the most. His family.

That's what they were. All of them. His chosen family, who'd stick by his side no matter what. Who'd fight for him and hunt down his nightmares to get rid of them. Who had already chosen him too.

Lastly, he dropped his gaze on y/n, who squeezed his hand, climbing closer to him to hung her arms loosely around his neck and rested her head on top of his. Sirius felt a kiss pressed on his temple. She kept her lips there, even after the kiss stopped. And he knew his girlfriend closed her eyes and would soon start to nuzzle her nose behind his ear.

Another smile made its way to his face. Yes, he had his family with him. His brothers and sister and love of his life. He's going to be fine. Not today, not fully. And not tomorrow. Maybe not in months from now, but he'll get there. They'll drag him there, kicking and fighting and demanding he doesn't give up on himself. Because they wouldn't. Ever.

So, he said "Deal." With his signature smirk on his face. And cuddled y/n as conversation drifted to winter break and holidays and how they'll steal as much time together as they could.

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 24

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.3k

Chapter warnings: feels, a lot of fucking feels

A/N: This chapter is set after season three. // SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER BITCHES (of the main story at least lol) this one was quite difficult for me, idk, DIALOGUE HEAVY so beware, i wanna thank @mouthymandalorian because she read half of this and gripped my shoulders, slapped me and told me it had substance, and @purplepascal042 ​ bc she just makes me feel so sure of myself and this shitshow lmao and she gave us Carlos, i love you guys so much

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous // next→

gif: @pescopadral

Home.

He smelled like home.

“You stopped smoking?” you mumbled against his shoulder when you didn’t find traces of smoke on his shirt, Javier scoffed and gripped you tighter against him.

“Kinda.”

“Good, horrible habit.” you teased him and for the first time in five months, you heard him chuckle.

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes when his hands started roaming slowly through your back.

It was like you two never actually stopped hugging; you were marveled by the feeling of his hands in your body; they belonged there; it was as if his touch was meant only for you. He gripped and caressed you as if his hands had gone through a touch withdrawal. He fit there. You fit there.

“How long have we been hugging?” you teased and Javier scoffed again, a little harder, the warm air he let out clashing with the skin of your neck, it made you shiver and you smiled.

“Don’t know but don’t stop.” he replied softly, and you felt your smile growing, you opened your eyes and saw the way his body was curled against yours, almost wrapping it.

You turned your eyes to the dark sky and sighed again at the sight of the stars; they looked so close and so bright you were sure, in that moment, with him gripping you and anchoring you to the earth you had been walking alone for so long, you could reach them.

“I missed you.” you let out, your voice small, your tone warm, it made him smile.

“Yeah.” he moved his arms and stepped back from the embrace to look at you, his hands slid from your back to your waist and the hand that wasn’t holding the letter back to your face.

“Hi.” you whispered, the muscles of cheeks started to sting because of the smile you were holding.

“Hi.” Javier replied. 

Your wandering hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, and then you cupped his face. He leaned into your touch as you studied his face and re-learned the features you had committed to memory, for later use or later torture, your brain struggling to grasp the fact that he was there, right in front of you; but he was, you were making sure of it as your fingers touched every single inch of his skin, Javier closed his eyes and sighed when the pads of your fingers slid through his forehead and slowly made their way to his mid brow, the perpetual frown you had met him wearing had disappeared.

“Open your eyes.” you whispered to him and he did without questioning, looking at you; there were the remnants of some unshed tears from earlier, but they were the same you had seen in between dreams, they were the same eyes you had craved for when you couldn’t hold yourself whole, when you couldn’t stand up straight, when you felt like your pieces weren’t being glued properly; and they were on you.

“What are you looking at?” he whispered his question as he moved his face closer to you. You smiled at him again as if you had stopped smiling at all, and you remembered that self-doubt that crept inside you all those months before when you wanted nothing more but to have him look at you like he loved you; your smile faded when you realized he was looking at you differently.

It wasn’t the same look he used to give you when he woke you up after spending the night together; it wasn’t the same way he looked at you across the office bullpen at the embassy in Bogotá; it wasn’t the same look you used to get when you said some horrible joke or a funny remark or a teasing comment or a snarky toned word.

But it wasn’t hard. His eyes were looking at you deeply, but you didn’t know what it meant.

“You.” you whispered your reply, and he smiled at you.

“Good.” he said and brought your face to his.

Javier’s lips took yours and he let out a sigh when he felt you kissing him back.

It was as if he never stopped kissing you.

He knew your movements; he knew you loved when his tongue brushed your lower lip, and how you sighed every time he opened his mouth slightly and took your lip again between his.

Every single thing fit; you there, standing in front of him; you there, in his arms; your lips between his lips, your hands touching his skin.

It felt right. It was right.

It was giving him everything he kept longing for when he listened to that tape with your voice; it was giving him the life he thought he wouldn't have anymore, the one he knew he didn’t even deserve.

Javier gripped you tighter against his chest and deepened the kiss. You let out a soft moan and he wanted to smirk; he still had the same effect over you as you had over him.

How could he have gone through life without your kisses? without your touch? without your essence lingering close to him?

With you there, it felt like there was no time in Javier’s life where you weren’t present in some way.

You just crept inside his body and his heart and his mind and you stayed there.

“Let’s get inside.” he muttered against your mouth, you breathed in deeply as he stepped away from you and grabbed your hand.

“Are you sure?” you said, looking at him. Javier frowned.

“Yeah, I just asked you to stay.” he tugged at your hand and pulled you softly towards the house.

You bit your lip and followed him to the house. There was a feeling nagging at your chest you recognized as that self-doubt that you thought you had left inside the glove box of your car and you tried to breathe it away.

The door was still open, and you took then a moment to look around; having been busy crying the first time you walked inside; immediately to the left there was a big archway that led to a dining room that looked simple and comically unused, stiff and almost out of character; straight to the front there was that archway you had seen Chucho disappear into the kitchen and the living room was fairly big; mostly occupied by a dark couch that looked more loved that any other piece of furniture there with a wood, cluttered console table almost protecting the back and two red armchairs on the sides, a sharp-edged coffee table between them that held a few wood figurines on the surface and a big fireplace that filled the opposite on wall; and the free spaces on the walls were filled with pictures and framed newspaper clips with both Chucho and Javier, some of them were in spanish; there were books resting on almost every surface: the fireplace mantelpiece, a cornered bookshelf behind a lamp, an end table next to one of the armchairs.

On the wall above the fireplace there was a mounted alligator gar fish you actually stopped to look at.

“What?” Javier turned to look at you, following your gaze and standing up straighter.

“Did your dad–‌”

“Yeah,” he cut you off. You looked at him and saw him with his proud smirk adorning his face “Carlos has been here since I was a kid,” he explained and you snorted “what?”

“His name is Carlos?” you asked between a tight laugh that helped ease you in, he nodded a few times, enjoying the sound of your laugh so close to him instead of in his mind “you named him, right?” Javier smiled and shook his head.

“My mom did.” he replied. Your laughter stopped, and you scrunched up your nose.

“Sorry.” you muttered almost cautiously. Which he noticed.

“Don’t do that.” he stepped close to you.

“Do what?” you asked him, widening your eyes as if he had caught you stealing Carlos.

“Loosen up,” his hand slid from your hand up your arm and rested on your shoulder, he squeezed it softly and kneaded the flesh a few times “you’re not with a stranger.”

“But you are.” you replied in a whisper before you could stop yourself, Javier licked his lower lip and cupped your face with both hands, leaning to leave a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Am I?” he turned around and kept guiding you through the house. 

You frowned at his response. Did he forget? It was as if the hug you had shared a few minutes before had made him forget the entirety of the time you didn’t even talk and you started feeling anxious about it. You didn’t like not knowing, and even when he turned left into a hallway which was filled with more framed pictures of him and his dad and some older pictures of him with more people; you felt the urge to ask him if there was something else hidden behind that smile you loved, but you weren’t expecting to receive.

You crossed the threshold of a room you immediately recognized as his; it smelled like him; the bed was poorly made and there was a thick brown book resting on top of the left pillow.

“You sleep here,” he said. You looked at the bed and turned to him “I’ll take the couch.”

“Are you crazy?” you shook your head “this is your room, I can sleep on the couch I don’t care.”

Javier stood there for a moment, not looking at you, he sighed heavily and walked to sit on the edge of the bed, dropping the letter on the nightstand.

“What the fuck are we doing?” he mumbled, leaning to rest his arms on his knees and his face on one hand.

“What do you mean?” you stood where he left you and fidgeted with your unoccupied hands.

“We’re dancing ‘round each other,” he scoffed, shaking his head, “why?” he asked as he turned his head to gaze at you.

You didn’t move but took his eyes in and the way he was looking at you that was hauntingly different from the ones you were used to get from him.

“I don’t know,” you sighed out, dropping your eyes to the carpeted floor as you tried to analyze your own feelings “I feel like…” you started and saw him out of the corner of your eye shift on the bed towards you “I don’t deserve this, y’know?” your eyes were stuck to the fibers of the carpet and you felt his brown gaze on your body as you tried to put the mess of feelings that was churning inside your gut into words “I don’t know why you’re taking me in, why do you want me to stay?”

Javier saw you lift your face to him and he sighed when he saw your eyes filled with tears again, he stood from the bed and all but strode to you, his hands immediately found their home on your waist and he shivered at the way you sighed when you felt him close to you.

“You forgot what I did to you?” you asked, your eyes on him and Javier felt your eyes staring deeply inside him.

“No,” he replied “but you’re here, you’re here when I thought I’d never see you again,” he shrugged slightly and you shook your head “and we can work all this out.” he let out on a breath.

“Work this out?” you questioned in a whisper, Javier nodded “we haven’t seen each other in five months, wha–‌what does work this out mean?”

Javier gulped and realized he didn't know exactly what it meant.

And you were there, having doubts about the whole ordeal already.

“You don’t know, do you?” you asked him as your hands slid up to his chest and he shook his head no twice.

“Look,” he whispered out, trying to get you closer to him “I’ve been trying to process everything, and…” he pursed his lips trying to find the words inside his head, “and I realized none of it matters to me anymore.” he muttered.

You looked at him hesitantly, Javier recognized the insecure look in your eyes from earlier and from the last days you two had shared in Bogotá.

He hated that you weren’t saying anything; he despised not knowing what you were thinking because your face wasn’t giving him any hints; it was blank, and there were just jots and iotas of what looked like random emotions to him. He wanted to ask, but he knew you had to think about everything as well.

The silence was warm and heavy with anticipation and doubt, and he wanted nothing else but to light up a cigarette and cover it with nicotine smoke.

He was holding your body; his hands resting on your waist as his thumbs smeared the fabric of your shirt around your skin. You were there, but you weren’t.

“Where did you go?” he asked, his deep timber low and intrigued.

You doubted a bit, biting your lip as you formed your abstracts into shapes inside your head, he looked so sure of everything; he looked at you like you were the one that hung the bright stars on the dark sky you were wishing to grasp minutes earlier, and you felt it wrong.

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled out, to nothing and to the heavy silence and to yourself, Javier narrowed his eyes “I hurt you,” you said, nodding once, as if emphasizing it “I lied to you,” you nodded again and Javier mimicked the action “I hid things from you bu–‌but I’m here, for some reason?” you shrug your shoulders in confusion and Javier huffed, frustrated.

Javier wasn’t sure of what the future looked like for either of you, but he understood that doubt you were letting out, he had felt it for a long time and he wanted to get rid of it; he remembered your earlier words of seeking closure, and he imagined how confusing it must be.

He wanted to show you how much you were wanted, but knowing you, he had to say it out loud.

“Let’s talk,” he muttered “we’re not talking, and we need to,” you blinked a few times while his words sank into you, you nodded and let him guide you to the bed, he gestured for you to sit and he sat next to you on the mattress “but first I need you to stop walking on eggshells.”

“I’m not walking on eggshells.” you furrowed your brow.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, leaning his face to you “you're hesitating, where is that woman that called out my shit as she saw it?”

You dropped your eyes to the floor and felt them fill with tears, Javier pinched your chin lightly and moved your head for you to see him.

“I have no idea where she is, Javi,” you muttered as two tears escaped from your eyes, he brushed them off with his other hand, “I think she left, or maybe she never existed,” you sniffed “I have no idea who I am.”

Javier looked into your watery eyes and, as more tears slid through your cheeks, he understood another nuance of you, the weight of what the two of you had lived, together and on your own, not only harmed him. It harmed you too in more than one way; and he had been blinded by his own pain that he just didn’t think about yours.

“Let me tell you who you are,” he said “you are a smart woman, that fears nothing and if she does she doesn’t let anyone know it,” his hands cupped your face as more tears fell “you are funny,” the corner of his mouth lifted and you scoffed “and you’re beautiful in a way I don’t understand,” his thumb started drawing small circles on the skin of your cheek “you put up with me and I don’t know how, I’m the most difficult bastard I know,” he let out a soft chuckle and you smiled at him “you are restless and brave…”

“I’m not.” you shook your head, Javier brushed your lips closed with a thumb.

“Strong and driven, so damn stubborn you just refuse to look at what I’m doing.” he let out.

“What?” you frowned again in confusion and Javier smiled softly at you.

“I hugged you,” he muttered and mimicked the nodding of his head you directed to him before “I kissed you, I escorted you personally to my room and you still think I don’t want you here.”

“I don’t deserve it.” you whispered against his thumb.

Javier looked at you and tried to dig up with his gaze the feeling that was keeping you from being that woman he had fallen in love with; your tear-filled eyes that looked at everything and at nothing at the same time, your trembling lower lip, your hushed voice tone that was so different and so far away from that tone you commanded and demanded respect with when he met you.

He found it ironic how much the tables had turned in so little time.

“You’re right,” he let out, dragging his thumb from your lips to your cheeks “we don’t deserve it,” he shook his head a few times “this?” he aimed his head around and sighed “it’s too good for both of us,” you nodded and rolled your eyes slightly, he was right, “but I think we’ve earned the right to be selfish, don’t you?”

His words sank inside you like a pebble on a calm lake and eased little by little that uncontrollable cyclone that were your emotions; how was he so right?

“Who are you and what did you do to Javier Peña?” you asked him, making him chuckle again.

“I’m me, baby,” he muttered, and you felt your breath hitch at the endearment “renewed and a bit patched up.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” you mumbled out, Javier took your head and made you look at him.

“I know, stop saying that, I know.” he sighed and leaned towards you, leaving another soft kiss on your lips.

“I think I’m gonna spend the rest of my time making it up to you.” you whispered against his lips and he smiled.

“The rest of it?” he teased. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Every minute.”

“You don’t have to,” he sat back and dropped his hands from your face, taking one of yours and gripping it tightly. His eyes fell to your intertwined fingers “just be here.”

“Javier,” you called out, and he looked at you “how do I know you won’t resent me for this?”

“You don’t,” he let out, you let out the air that was trapped in your lungs “I don’t either,” you saw him shrug and smirk at you “let’s just hope it doesn’t happen.”

“Fuck,” you chuckled out, he smiled at you and you sighed in relief “I love you.”

Javier’s face fell for the total amount to two seconds that felt like two hours when you saw his smile fade into a wide-eyed, surprised grin.

Your heart was beating at the rhythm of a racehorse’s gallop, but you didn’t take it back, you couldn’t, after showing him and after doing what you did, you couldn’t just erase it because it was true.

And saying it, to him, out loud, made your body feel as light as a falling leaf.

“Good to know,” he let out, his lips curving in a half open smile you had seen exactly once in all the time you knew him “because I love you too.”

As soon as he said it Javier took your hands and pulled you flush to his chest. A soft yelp escaped your mouth because of the force, and your arms instantly wrapped themselves around his shoulders. He hid his face inside the crook of your neck and you felt a shiver roam up and down your back when he inhaled you in.

“This’s nice.” his voice was muffled by your skin and the fabric of your shirt, you huffed.

“It is.” you whispered, laying your head on his shoulder and sighing again contentedly.

“Are you tired?” he asked without moving and you nodded “you wanna sleep?” he asked again and you nodded a second time.

“Will you sleep here?” you mumbled, closing your eyes as his essence and the warmth of his body mingled with yours and settled inside you.

“You want me to?”

“I’d love you to.”

Your phrase seemed to wake him up from the temporal slumber your embrace had put him into and he helped you stand up from the bed; he said nothing as he walked to his closet on the corner of the room, grabbed a white t-shirt and handed it to you.

“The bathroom is just getting out of the hallway, if you wanna change there,” he said with a slight shrug, and you let out a giggle, as if he didn’t know already every inch of your body “I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” you said, walking towards the black desk on the opposite corner of his room and leaving the t-shirt on the surface, taking off your shoes.

Javier rolled his eyes as he turned around and pulled down the bedsheets, he grabbed the book from the pillow to rest on his nightstand. He took the letter he had dropped there first and turned to find you taking off your jeans, already wearing his shirt.

You looked at him and gave him a soft smile as he walked towards the desk, opened one of the small drawers and tossed the letter inside.

“You should burn that.” you teased.

“Never.” he teased back, stealing another chuckle out of you. He walked around you towards his closet and started pulling off his clothes.

“I like that shirt.” you went to the bed and sat back on the edge. He looked down at the red fabric and then shook his head.

“‘S yours if you want it.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in feigned consideration “looks better on you,” he smiled as he slid the shirt off his shoulders, “you still sleep on the right side?” you asked, turning back to the bed, smiling as your eyes landed on his nightstand and recognized the book he was reading: Cien años de soledad… your copy.

“Yeah.”

“You stole my book.” you turned to him as he was finishing putting on pajama pants.

“What?”

“I lent you that book,” you pointed back at the nightstand with your thumb “you sneaky asshole,” you teased and he started laughing in silence, walking towards you “I’m gonna steal it back.”

Javier grabbed your hand from your lap and pulled you to stand up, his hands wrapped your waist as he stopped laughing and your hands landed on his naked chest.

“You were right, though,” he muttered, leaving a kiss on your cheek “I needed to read some fiction.”

“I still can’t believe you never read it.” you teased him, tracing his collarbone with your fingers.

Silence fell upon you again as he rested his lips on the skin of your cheekbone. But, as most things that day, it turned back into a comfortable, lighter silence that was miles and miles away from the ones you had shared in Colombia.

Everything there was so different than it was before but you knew, deep inside, that it wasn’t a bad turn; and it made you think that maybe, the time you two spent apart, as horrid, painful and rough as it was; was needed.

He couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop touching you, his hands had missed the texture of your skin and the warmth of your body, Javier moved his hands only to let you lay down on the bed next to him, he turned off the lights and almost immediately, brought you back to him, your chest resting on his side, your head resting on his chest, the skin on skin contact was doing wonders to him and he knew he wouldn’t need anything else as long as you gave him permission to touch you.

“They offered me México.” he mumbled out, breaking the tranquil, dark silence you were snuggling under as his hand rested on your rib side.

“What?” you asked, turning your head on his chest to face him.

“After Cali, when I resigned, they offered me México.” he said, you frowned.

“That’s ironic.”

“Yeah.”

“You would’ve hated it.” you said, your fingers tracing shapeless figures on his skin.

“Why?”

“They made it a hellhole.” you shrugged slightly and his chest rose with the deep breath he took.

“Would’ya ever tell me ‘bout your time there?” he asked softly, bringing you closer to him.

“Yeah, at some point,” he hummed in response, “your dad called me Florecita.”

“Uhm, yeah.” he let out.

“Why? you didn’t tell him my name?” you asked him softly.

“I did… but the nickname kinda stuck.” he huffed. You squinted to study his features in the dark and saw him smirk.

“You called me that, right? when you talked to him?” you questioned teasingly “is that the nickname you gave me?” he nodded, and you rolled your eyes.

“You don’t like it?” he teased back.

“I mean…” you hesitated, knowing he’d tease you “I kinda do,” he laughed, and you slapped his pectoral softly “shut up.” you hid your face in his chest.

“Ay, mi florecita.” (my little flower)

“Don’t call me that.” you said in fake chastisement and he kissed the crown of your head.

He chuckled and the soft movement of his chest and the sound of his silent breathing lulled you to sleep. 

For the first time in months, you fell asleep with ease.

That night Javier slept better than he had in ten years.

←previous // next→

*ABOUT CARLOS*

pedrito's perma list: @queenofthefaceless ​ @northernpunk ​ @pascalesque ​ @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 ​ @bii-aan-ckaa ​ @letaliabane ​ @starlightmornings ​ @mouthymandalorianalso ​ @supernaturalgirl ​ @metalarmsandmanbuns ​ @purplepascal042 ​ @asta-lily ​ @greeneyedblondie44 ​ @missswriter ​ @juletheghoul ​ @pedro-pastel ​ @agirllovespancakes ​

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd ​

RushBit tag list: @shestillwrites-blog ​ @absurdthirst ​ @alliterative-albatross ​ @thoughtfulpandawasteland @wifeofdindjarin ​ @lank-sextburg @the-ginger-hedge-witch ​ @helloannbananalove @diogodxlot ​ @pascalslittlebrat ​ @sarahjkl82-blog ​ @pedritobalmando ​ @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @mamacitapascal ​ @dobbyjen @callsigncatfish ​ @feminist-violinist ​ @jasmincita @pascalove ​ @eury-dice3 @gingaahhhh @athalien ​ @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics ​

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Five Kisses pt. 1

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky is defined by five different kisses. 

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,895

Author’s Note: Coming out of retirement! I hope that you all enjoy. I didn’t want to split this up into three parts, but it would have been a really long one-shot if I had. Le me know what you think! I haven’t written anything in like four years, so I’m not even sure if people still read fics. So toss a reblog to your fic writer, o’ readers a plenty! 

You can read part two here!

You weren’t sure what to call Bucky Barnes. He wasn’t really someone you’d call a friend, but he was a little more than just an acquaintance. In fact, he was more of a pain in your ass than anything. Natasha introduced you to him, half in hope that the two of you would hit it off. Only, after an hour of knowing him, the only thing you wanted to hit was his head off of his shoulders.

Avoiding him after that first encounter was hard, seeing as he was always around with that stupid, shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. You could tell that he knew just how much his mere presence annoyed you; he enjoyed watching your jaw clench, teeth-grinding at the sound of his voice whenever he said something incredibly stupid- which was every time he opened his mouth.

You tolerated him, but only because you had to; for Steve and Nat’s sake. No one said you had to like him. You didn’t want to like him.

That was until he wound up in your dreams.

You might have been in an elevator or a doctor’s office, you couldn’t really remember. The details of the dream were fading fast, and the only thing that continued to stick out was Bucky. And your hands grasping at the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him down to you. And the way your noses bumped together. And the sound of a desperate moan escaping the depths of his throat. 

And how ridiculously soft his lips were.

A blush crept across your cheeks as you sat in your bed, embarrassed; hands holding your head as you wondered how your subconscious had let this happen. The thought of kissing Bucky Barnes had not once crossed your mind before, and now the thought of kissing Bucky Barnes had your mind racing. It was just a kiss and then you woke up. But as you sat atop tangled sheets, you thought of what might have happened if you had stayed asleep; your heartbeat kicking as you imagined him kissing you in other places.

You sighed; eyes clamped tight as you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of it and push any thought of the man out of your mind. Natasha tried to make small talk with you in the kitchen when you went to make a cup of coffee, but at the first mention of Bucky you made up some excuse to get the hell out of Dodge. 

Over the next few weeks, you were avoiding him more than usual. You turned down invitations to go out with the group-, knowing that he would be there. And when he and Steve came over to your apartment, you’d find some reason to leave; work, needing something from the grocery store, going to the gym or going to hang out with one of your other friends. Sure, it was just a dream, but you couldn’t deny that you had begun to think of Bucky in a different way since then. And you were sure your feelings would disappear if you stayed away from him for long enough.

You were coming home one night after work, completely exhausted and drained, and before you even opened the door to your apartment, you could hear the faint sound of laughter on the other side. You sighed as you slid the key into the lock, completely forgetting that it was Thursday night, or as Nat liked to call it, ‘Family Night’. 

Natasha heard the door shut behind you and called for you to join them. Not feeling like fighting this one, you made your way to the kitchen. Nat stood at the stove, a steaming pot of noodles in front of her while Steve was leaning against the counter, in the middle of telling some story about when he and Bucky were in Italy. And Bucky was at the table, beer in hand, smiling as he tried to dispute Steve on a few of the details in the story.

“Hey guys,” you mumbled as you walked into the kitchen towards the refrigerator to grab a beer. “That smells great, Nat.”

“Thanks,” she beamed, obviously proud of herself. Your roommate rarely did any cooking, and most of the time the two of you were ordering take-out or going to the nearest ‘pizza-by-the-slice’ joint. You knew this newfound love for cooking- she had even bought herself an apron- was to impress Steve. And it was cute, you couldn’t deny. “How was work?”

You nearly collapsed in the chair across from Bucky and kicked off your heels. His eyes were burning a hole into you, but you kept your gaze fixed in the direction of Natasha and Steve; not wanting to look at him, afraid of what would happen if you did.

“Today was rough since we have that audit coming up.” You replied before taking a swig of your beer. “It’s nice to be home.”

“Amen to that,” Steve declared as he held his bottle up in the air. 

You copied his movements and sat back in your chair with a sigh. The kitchen was filled with a comfortable silence, save for the sound of the water boiling in Nat’s pot. You ran a hand through your hair and finally looked up at Bucky who was glancing down at his phone. Your eyes skimmed over his features and you wondered how you had never noticed his freckles or the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at something. 

How could you have never noticed that Bucky Barnes was beautiful?

“Buck, did you find something for this weekend?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence and your stare. 

“This weekend?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I thought it would be nice if we all went out and did something fun,” she replied. “You’ve been so busy lately, Y/N, and you told me that you didn’t have any plans this weekend, so I figured we’d go somewhere and let loose.” 

“Oh,” you said quietly.

“They’ve got a band playing at Josie’s on Saturday night,” Bucky informed, as he looked up from his phone and met your eyes for only a moment before you averted your gaze to look at Nat.

“I’m always down for Josie’s,” Steve stated.

“Yeah, Josie’s sounds good,” Natasha added. “Y/N, what do you think?”

“Sure, Josie’s it is!” You replied with a nervous grin.

Saturday night came way, too soon. Natasha had texted you that she and Steve were going to be running a little late coming from dinner and that they’d just meet you and Bucky at Josie’s soon. Your stomach churned at the thought of spending any time alone with him, but it quickly turned to butterflies as you opened the door and saw him sitting at the corner of the bar.

He looked good. The sleeves of his dark sweater pushed up his arms as he brought the beer bottle up to his lips and took a drink. He noticed you and waved as if you hadn’t immediately spotted him the moment you walked in. He was hard to miss, after all. 

“Hey,” he said as you reached the barstool next to him. “You want a beer?” You nodded and he motioned for the bartender to grab you a bottle. “Steve and Nat are going to be late.”

“Yeah, she texted me.” You told him. He nodded his head in reply and thanked the bartender when he placed the bottle of beer in front of you. “Thanks,” you told Bucky with a soft smile before pressing the bottle to your lips.

“You look nice tonight,” he mentioned and your cheeks began to blush.

“Thank you,” you replied. “So do you.”

“What?” Bucky’s face was shocked. “No smart ass remark?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start.”

The silence that fell over the two of you wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was unlike Bucky to compliment you, and you figured he was just doing it to be civil, but that didn’t stop your cheeks from forming a light blush. You kept your gaze downcast, checking your phone every few seconds out of boredom. Bucky absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the marble countertop to the beat of the song and you noticed just how nice his hands were. 

You talked about work, mostly. He asked about the audit, which you were surprised he remembered, and he boasted about his own work. The band started playing not long after that. They were good; a classic rock cover band that only played the hits. And for what seemed like the first time, you were actually enjoying spending time with Bucky Barnes. He had even asked if you wanted to move to the dance floor, and you did; dancing to song after song, drink after drink, you couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

“Hey!” He called over the music. Bucky held up his phone to you, showing a text message thread from Steve, but at that point your vision was pretty blurry. “They aren’t coming.”

“Who needs them?” You replied with a smile. “You want another round?” 

“I got it,” he replied and turned to head back to the bar.

You placed a hand on his chest to stop him, “I got this one.”

Bucky smiled at you when you came back with two more shots of tequila. “Cheers to pleasant surprises,” he said as he held his shot glass up to yours.

“Pleasant surprises indeed,” you replied before you downed your shot.

You both laughed at each other’s faces after you downed the sour liquid and sat your empty glasses on a table nearby. The band finished their last song and announced that they were going to slow things down a bit. You could feel the alcohol swimming in your veins as couples gathered on the dance floor to dance to some, old slow song. 

Bucky held out his hand and you took it, not thinking twice about it. He pulled you in close to him, and you rested your head on his chest; eyes closing at the light scent of his cologne. You were thankful that Steve and Natasha didn’t show up; you weren’t sure how you and Bucky would have acted towards each other if they had. You could hear him humming along to the music and a smile made its way to your lips as you also began to sing along. 

Before you knew it, the whole dance floor was loudly- and drunkenly- belting out the lyrics during the song’s chorus. As the song began to fade, people began to move off of the dance floor while the band announced they were going to take a break. However, you and Bucky were still holding each other closely as the bar began to play their own music in the interim. You looked up at him from your place on his shoulder and he glanced downwards and smiled. 

“You want to get out of here?” He asked. His hands release their grip on your waste and you groaned inwardly. “I know a really awesome food truck that is stays open late, and cheese fries sound really good right about now.”

“I am not going to argue with that.” You said and reluctantly took a step back from him, knowing that it would be a good idea to eat something to hopefully save yourself the hangover that you knew you would have in the morning. 

Once you had both settled the tab, you stepped out of the bar and into the cool air of the city. The wind kicked up, causing your hair to fly around your face as you looked out at the glistening lights of New York City in the distance. You could see Bucky looking at you out of the corner of your eye, he smiled when you turned to him. 

It was quiet, save for the sounds of the streets, as you began walking along the sidewalk- side by side. Your arms brushed against the other every few seconds, and you began to relish in the warmth, even if it was only for a fleeting moment before he took another step. He broke the silence first, making a joke about Steve and Nat not showing up and you laughed. You were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him; opening up more and more, little by little. But then his fingers brushed against yours and you thought he was going to hold your hand. Suddenly, your story about falling out of the tree in Mrs. Johnson’s yard trying to rescue her cat was cut short, as your heart and stomach fluttered at the feeling. You glanced downwards wondering if he noticed your face blushing red, and bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to pull yourself together.  

“So did you rescue the cat, or not?” Bucky asked, stopping on the street corner. You stopped too and looked up at him. His lips were pulled into a ridiculously attractive grin, and it was hard not to form a smile of your own.

“Of course, I rescued the cat.” You said with pride, rolling your eyes at him. “Wait a second,” you looked around at your surroundings as you realized that you had no idea where you were. And Bucky’s food truck was no where in sight. “Where are we?” 

Bucky also looked around and chuckled. “Well, I thought the food truck was in this direction a few blocks down from the bar, but I am a little drunk and I may have been wrong.” 

You sighed jokingly and pulled out your phone, “I’ll call us a ride.” 

It didn’t take long for a cab to show up and the two of you slid into the backseat. You gave the driver the directions to your apartment and he pulled off, allowing a noticeable silence to take over. You looked over at Bucky who was glancing out the window, and when he turned his head in your direction, you quickly looked away, chewing on your lip. You kept your hands in your lap, mindlessly plucking at the hem of your blouse before sneaking another glance over at Bucky. His beautiful blue eyes were fixed on you, and you gave him a small smile. 

There was so much tension in the air, it was hard to breathe. You silently thanked God as the cab driver pulled up on the curb outside of your apartment so that you could open the door and get some fresh air. There was something about the way that he looked at you that was unlike anything you had every experienced before. You knew, just from that one look, that he felt the same- and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. 

“Thank you,” Bucky told the driver and passed him a tip. “Have a good night.” As the driver took off, Bucky turned to you. 

“Well this is me,” you told him with a smile. “I’d ask you if you wanted to come up, but who knows what Steve and Natasha are doing up there since they blew us off.” 

“Right,” Bucky laughed as he rocked back and forth on his heels. 

“I had a really nice time, though.” You told him, not wanting to discourage him. “Who knew you were such good company?” 

“There’s that smart ass remark I’ve been waiting for all night,” he laughed. 

“Don’t tell Steve and Nat, but I’m kind of glad that they didn’t show up.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, taking a tiny step towards you. “Why’s that?” 

You also took a tiny step towards him and the gap between the two of you was closing inch by inch. “Because,” you managed to say whilst swallowing a lump in your throat. “I don’t think we would have had nearly as much fun as we did.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said in what was barely a whisper as took the last step to close the space between you.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You asked.

“Do you want me to?” He replied, you could feel his breath. 

You nodded and Bucky closed what little gap there was left between your lips. The kiss was soft and warm, and everything that you expected- but better. You could still taste the tequila and lime on his tongue as you explored each other’s mouths, and you gripped on to his sweater, pulling him as close as you possibly could. It felt like a long time coming, like you had always wanted each other, but weren’t able to admit it to yourselves. It was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. 

And, quite literally, it was your dreams coming true. 

You pulled back and caught your breath, smiling like a fool. “I, uh- Before I end up saying something really stupid and ruining the moment, I’m going to go.” Bucky smiled and shook his head. “But, just know I had a really great time tonight. So thank you for that.” You said as you backed away, almost running into the door as you turned around. 

“I’ll see you later?” He asked as you pulled the door open and stepped inside.

“In your dreams, Barnes!” You replied, turning back around only to stick your tongue out at him and then disappear up the staircase. 

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anonymous: Hi! Could you possibly do a Charlie x reader fic where they are filming season 2 & there is a new character (fashion expert/can see ghost/a little bit of enemies with Luke at first) but off screen they are very close (always hanging out/on ig posts & stories/dance partners/they sing karaoke/adventure) & the whole cast likes to tease them about it but they deny any feelings however they are about to film a very important scene that involves their characters & might change everything between them.

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2,789

Season 2. Finally Season 2. Everyone had been hoping, wishing, praying for a season 2 of Julie and The Phantoms, and after months of waiting, Netflix finally picked it up for a second season. After those months, the actors had just to wait a little while longer while the crew wrote up the first drafts of scripts and made it perfectly save for the actors to do their work. Once all of that’s ready and they’re good to go, the cast finally reunite again in Vancouver. They even meet some new cast members. Like you. You had auditioned for the role of Daniela Ramos, Julie’s cousin and Victoria’s daughter, and got it pretty much straight away. Daniela is a fashion student at a High School in Melrose Hill and Julie asks her for some help with costumes for her next gig with her band. To Julie’s surprise, Daniela can actually see the boys, even when they’re not playing, which causes for a lot of trouble in the band and family, especially between Julie and Luke. This is your first big role on the small screen and you’re the most excited you’ve ever been. You met the other cast members at the summer bootcamp before the filming process would start, and though almost everything had to be done with a face mask covering half of everyone’s face, it still was a lot of fun getting to meet everyone and spend the most fun summer ever. Every day, you grew closer and closer to everyone on set, and soon became best friends with Madi, Jadah, Savannah and Tori, doing plenty of sleepovers. Besides the girls, you also grew closer to Charlie, Owen and Jeremy, but mostly Charlie. For some reason, the two of you just clicked instantly. You have the same humor, the same taste of adventure, the same passions and dreams. You, Charlie and Owen even rented a place together to live in for the time being in Vancouver. You got even closer during filming, especially since you and Charlie have a lot of scenes together. “Oh my God, Luke, you’re so annoying!” you yell at him when the two of you are in the garage, taping a scene. It had taken you about ten takes and you still couldn’t help but giggle at the shocked face he pulled every time. “If I’m so annoying, Dani, why do you keep coming back?!” The angry face he pulls resembles that of an angry kitten, which just makes you crack up again. “God dammit, Y/N!” Charlie laughs now too as Kenny yells “Cut!” “Sorry! Sorry, guys! I promise I’m a real actor!” You hold your hands up in defense, then cough to get ready for another take. This time around, you could finally manage to get through it without laughing. “Yes!” Charlie exclaims when Kenny yells “Cut!” again. He holds his hand up for a high five, which you giddily give him. “Do you need any more takes, Kenny?” he asks the man himself. “Nope, you’re good! You can go on your break now!” he pats Charlie’s shoulder. “Nice job, guys!” “Thanks, Kenny,” you say, the smile growing on your face. “I need food, Gillespie,” you tell your best friend, linking your arm with his. “Let’s go get food!” The two of you head down to catering and sit down at a table with a plate full of food. “What are we doing tonight?” he then asks before taking a bite of food. You swallow your bite of food and take a sip from your drink. “Don’t you have a night shoot tonight?” you ask, remembering him saying something about a late call. “No, that’s tomorrow, after our dance rehearsal,” he replies after swallowing the food. “Oh! Okay!” You start thinking of things to do, “We could go to karaoke? Bring the others maybe?” He raises his eyebrows, looking at you questionably. “I’ve always loved karaoke,” you shrug with a giggle. “Yeah, okay!” Charlie nods his head agreeingly. “Karaoke it is!” The two of you smile up at each other, teeth showing, both of you glowing. “What are you love birds discussing?” Owen asks when he joins them, his voice muffled from the mask covering his face. He pulls it down to under his chin as he and Jeremy join the two at the table. “We’re thinking about going to karaoke tonight with the whole team!” you tell them, completely ignoring the ‘love birds’. “Ooh, fun!” Owen exclaims with a smile that nearly reaches his ears. “Yeah, we’ll leave after shooting the last scene tonight,” Charlie suggests, looking at you for confirmation. You nod your head agreeingly. That night, you and the rest of the cast head to the nearest karaoke place you know. You’ve linked arms with Savannah and Tori, giggling through the night, trying to keep your balance on your heeled boots. Meanwhile, without you realizing, Charlie has been keeping his eyes on you the whole way there. He finds it adorable how your giggle floats through the night air and your hips bump against the other girls’. He couldn’t lie, you had easily become the light in his life. “So, what song shall we begin with?” you ask the gang as you settle into the booth. “Pick the first one on the list,” Jeremy replies when no one else does. You nod your head curtly and press play on the first song, which is Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi. You can already tell after that first song; tonight is going to be a fun night. You sing a couple of songs with the girls, there are many group numbers, and you even sing one with your roommates. After singing with Owen and Charlie, the latter points at you. “We’re going to sing together now!” he exclaims excitedly before turning around and picking a song for you to sing. When he’s picked one, he grabs your hand to pull you closer towards him. You blink a couple of times, unable to process what’s happening right now. The opening notes to Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John and Kiki Dee chime through the booth. You glance over at Savannah and Tori, who offer you an encouraging smile. Then you look at Jadah and Madison, but they’re too busy giggling and whispering, and it makes you wonder if that’s about you and Charlie. Your eyes dart over to the boys – Jeremy, Owen and Sacha – who just offer you suggestive smiles and eyebrow-wiggles. Charlie’s voice captures your attention again, and you turn to him. “I couldn’t if I tried,” you sing back to him. The encouraging smile on Charlie’s face calms you down a little up to the point where it almost seems like the two of you are the only people in the room. You have no clue what is happening or why it’s happening. All you know is that you’ve wanted it to happen sooner. Though you wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone. It’s the way he looks at you and the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person on this planet that matters. It’s been the way he’d looked at you since that first day of meeting him. “I won't go breaking your heart,” you sing the very last line to him ever so softly, not even looking at the screen anymore, but instead, looking into his eyes. “Don't go breaking my heart,” he sings back. The song ends and you both lower your microphones, staring into each other’s eyes. If it wasn’t for the rest of the cast breaking out into cheers and applause, you would’ve kissed him then and there. But it startles you, and you step away from him upon realizing how close you are and how that must look to the others. “So, when’s the wedding?” Madison asks teasingly, which makes the others laugh, and you blush. After that night at karaoke, the two of you had silently agreed to forget anything ever happened. Savannah said you were in denial, but you believed you weren’t. You told her it was just the atmosphere in the air that night, the both of you had consumed a little bit of alcohol and it might’ve just been that. No one stopped teasing you though. On every possible occasion, they’d ask you if you’d kissed him yet, or when your next date it, or started singing Don’t Go Breaking My Heart randomly. You just shook it off every time, finding it amusing how consumed the cast was with this ‘relationship’ you had with Charlie. There was nothing more going on than just a really, really tight friendship. Until the dance scene happened. Your character, Dani, was supposed to go to a school dance with her crush, but she was nervous because she had never slow danced with anyone before. When she tells Luke, he insisted on teaching her, saying he’d gone to plenty of school dances back in ’94 and ’95 before he died. You and Charlie know this choreography by heart, you’ve been doing it for weeks on end at bootcamp and during rehearsals. It had always just been fun and games, the two of you being immaculate dancers and bouncing off of each other so well because of your tight friendship. “I could teach you?” Charlie says as Luke, stepping closer to you. You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve gone to numerous dances in my days, Dani…” One corner of his mouth curls up into a teasing smirk. “Unless you want to embarrass yourself in front of… Jake.” He emphasizes the name of your fictional crush, to which you react with wide eyes and a blush spreading on your cheeks. “Come on, Dani!” He reaches out for your hand, which you place hesitantly in his. Dani being able to see ghosts, is also able to make them corporeal. The lights on set dim a little, except for one spot on the pair in the middle of the studio, and then the music starts playing through the speakers. Charlie starts singing the song they’d learned at bootcamp, one the cast wrote together during the quarantine. The atmosphere in the studio has suddenly become really intense. You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as the man in front of you sings to you, mere inches away from each other as he leads you in this beautiful dance Paul Becker and Tori Caro choreographed for you. Just like at the karaoke booth, it feels like the two of you are the only people on set. Just you and him. You and Charlie. You and your best friend. There’s no denying you have feeling for him anymore. You knew you did, you just told yourself it wasn’t a good idea and suppressed those feelings, pushing them down. It worked for a while. Until now. “Cut!” Kenny yells after your scene. You step away from Charlie, glancing down at the floor as you try your hardest to hide your flustered face. “That was perfect, guys! It really looks like the two of you were in love!” he claps his hands in excitement, then tells them to do it again. After four takes of the dance, Kenny tells you to go and take a break. Without saying another word to Charlie, you rush off set and towards your trailer where you sit down on a chair, trying to calm your breathing. Charlie might not like you the way you like him. Admitting to these feelings might just ruin everything the two of you have. With this in mind, you grab your phone and text Savannah, asking her to come over to your trailer. Maybe she could help you. “Are you okay?” she asks when she enters and finds you staring at the ceiling. “No…” you reply and take a deep breath, “I think I’m in love with my best friend?” “Oh, sweetie…” Savannah sighs, and pulls you up to take you in a hug, “I know…” You pull her away again to face her properly. “What do you mean ‘you know’?” “Everybody knows,” she starts, “The two of you have been inseparable since the day you met, and everyone can see the way you look at each other. Plus, your duet the other night was a little intense for it to be a platonic one.” She chuckles, and you can’t help but chuckle too. She then grabs her phone from her back pocket, opening Instagram. “You know fans have caught on too, right?” She shows you the comments on some of Charlie’s pictures on his account. One picture is of the two of you, napping in Julie’s bed on set, cuddled up. He even posted pictures from your hikes on your days off. All of them are bombarded with comments from fans saying, ‘I ship it!’ or ‘Y/S/N’. Sav then opens her dm’s which are flooded with fans asking if you and Charlie are dating yet, and how the two of them are so in love with each other. “Charlie isn’t in love with me?” you deny, not believing one bit about it. “He is, though…” This does not come from Savannah’s mouth. Your eyes widen when you recognize the voice, and peek behind Savannah to find your best friend standing at your open trailer door. “Sav, can you give us a minute?” he asks the younger girl. “More than a minute,” she chirps, offering you a wink before leaving the trailer. Charlie steps in completely and moves until he’s in front of you. He takes your hands in his, and chuckles at your overwhelmed and confused expression. “Are you okay?” he asks, that beautiful smile of his persistent on his face. “Y—yeah? No? I’m not sure?” you sigh, trying to get your thoughts in order. “Charlie, wha—?” “Can I talk? I’ve been going over this conversation in my mind a billion times, and if I don’t say it now, I think I’m going to forget what I’m supposed to say…” You nod your head in response. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the very first time I saw you walking in at bootcamp. You looked adorable with your little nervous smile and your polite hellos to everybody. I knew from that moment on that I wanted to get to know you better, and that I wanted to become more than just friends…I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, so I told myself that it was okay if we’d just stay friends. Especially since your character kind of hates mine and you bring Dani to life so convincingly, that I was almost sure you hated me too,” you chuckle at that, “But I can’t hide it anymore, Y/N. I am so embarrassingly in love with you that I could’ve kissed you after that scene we just did and that I could kiss you right now even though I’m—” before he can finish his sentence, you lean up and crash your lips onto his, your hands flying into his hair. He’s a little startled at first, but quickly melts into the kiss and presses you closer to him. “I am so embarrassingly in love with you too, Charlie,” you whisper when you pull away, pressing your forehead against his. “They’re going to be so relieved,” you tell him with a chuckle. He frowns his eyebrows at you. “Who?” he asks. You take his hand in yours and lead him towards the door of your trailer, pushing it open and making it bump against whoever was closest to the door. All of your cast mates scramble, trying to act natural while Owen rubs his forehead since he was the one that got a door in his face. “Ah, them!” Charlie chuckles. “Thanks for the door in my face, guys,” Owen says disgruntled. “That’s on you, buddy,” you tell him with a grin. “Don’t you guys have a scene to shoot or something?” Their eyes widen at the realization and, after yelling at the two how happy they are for them, rush to set in a hurry. “So, where were we?” Charlie turns back to you when everyone’s gone. “Don’t you have a scene with them?” “Shit!” he grumbles and jumps off the small steps in front of the trailer. He starts running towards set but turns around almost immediately to you and kisses your lips quickly, but sweetly, and then runs off. You watch him with an amused smile on your face. There was nothing to be afraid about after all and nothing changed between you two. You were still the best of friends, just friends that kiss and are in love with each other. But both of you happy.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​

[oreomonsterhunter]

Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself.  When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life.  If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time.  It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho.  Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless.  Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit.  Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky.  It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones.  You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed.  They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light.  Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case.  “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again.  More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued.  Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole.  And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside.  Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage.  The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees.  You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment.  Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available.  Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day.  You wanted a cappuccino, dammit.  And chocolate babka from the cafe.  No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you.  It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you.  No need to wallow a few minutes in.  And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step.  You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before.  You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time.  And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday.  You might meet the love of your life today.  And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings.  You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer.  “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled.  You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back.  The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious.  You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting.  I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register.  You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter.  “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot.  I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine.  Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short.  A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair.  You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast.  You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise.  He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat.  A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head.  He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you.  A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth.  Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened.  “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open.  You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up.  “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you.  I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand.  You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest.  “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin.  So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk.  “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately.  “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter.  “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand.  “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky.  “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?”  And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee.  “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning!  And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration.  Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho.  You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics.  The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation.  “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills.  Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now.  “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement.  Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t.  I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy.  You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message.  You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket.  “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder.  “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable.  “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.”  He took a long sip.  “What time is your date anyway?  Eight in the morning?  They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again.  Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy?  You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet.  You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth.  Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself.  “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned.  “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again.  You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it.  You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it.  Seriously?  That was it?  No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed.  “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating.  The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside.  When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face.  You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair.  This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee.  “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features.  “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile.  You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting.  “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.  “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger.  And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh.  “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.”  Minho looked at you sharply.  “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone.  This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine?  Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him.  “Ok fine, no arguments from me.  Tell me about her.  Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering.  He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.”  Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly.  The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements.  “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?”  Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead.  “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile.  “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win.  If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard.  “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app.  You’re wasting your time.  And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same.  Minho was just less polite in his delivery.  But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either.  Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you.  So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim.  And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication.  You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea.  Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension.  “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly.  “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs.  “Yeah, no.  I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him.  “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too.  I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle.  “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought.  “I promise I’ll do my best.  You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand.  He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.  No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag.  You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger.  “What are some of your hobbies?  Favorite color?  Ooh, what about first date activities you love?  Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave.  You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore.  But you didn’t totally hate this guy.  And another part of you kind of felt bad for him.  He’d never experienced love!  Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there.  And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too.  It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love.  Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected.  He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically.  He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat.  “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised.  He was...going along with this?  You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth.  His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates.  You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas.  Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds.  The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date.  You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages.  The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz.  You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched.  He left?  Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines.  Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea.  But what on earth had happened with Minho?  Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency.  You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear.  His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack.  “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was.  “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated.  “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing.  Obviously not.  You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly.  “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do.  You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him.  “Who leaves in the middle of a date?  With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time.  Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what?  She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather.  “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over.  “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice.  But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words.  Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer.  “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy.  “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly.  “But you’re still going on a practice date.  Tomorrow night, six o’clock.  Meet me at the cafe.  If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived.  “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly.  You may or may not have lied about the time.  Just in case.

“The queen is never late.  Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped.  Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected.  You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself.  “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly.  It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill.  “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.”  He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude.  Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time.  He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you.  “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy.  “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out.  “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure.  I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him.  “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is.  It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.”  But then he frowned slightly.  “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded.  “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed.  You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps.  “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement.  You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner.  And there it was—the zoo!  All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all.  Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you.  “But where are the lights?”  Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo.  You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic.  “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago?  For Christmas?  Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you.  You nearly snapped back before you realized.  It was January.  February next week.  Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch.  You threw your arms over your head.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then.  I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk.  Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you?  He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out.  “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened.  I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two.  You must be ancient.”  You picked up your head to look at him.  A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona.  If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand.  “Come on, get up.  Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand.  Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this?  I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you.  “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright?  Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up.  You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had.  You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet.  But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge.  You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already.  Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow.  Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street.  Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth.  “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry.  You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather.  You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat.  “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street.  Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue.  Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that.  Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything.  It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that.  So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place?  Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place.  And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body.  Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it.  In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike.  You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby.  Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least.  “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers.  Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically.  You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door.  You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall.  Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows.  The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed.  When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair.  He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway.  It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy.  Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall.  Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine.  A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching.  “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn.  He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him.  “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes.  “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him.  Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind.  Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet.  So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom.  You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared.  “Here,” he said, voice gruff.  He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt.  Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully.  Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door.  “The bathroom.  I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully.  As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs.  You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time.  Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison.  And fleece-lined, too.  You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen.  When he noticed you, he waved you closer.  “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts.  “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile.  “Cheese it is then.  And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list.  When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion.  You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it.  On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping.  You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment.  Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing.  “Oh shit, sorry.  I mean, you can go home if you want.  I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay.  I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch.  You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter.  You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor.  An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote.  “Yeah right,” he scoffed.  “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick.  “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly.  “Drama.  Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him.  “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it.  Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours.  “Best out of three,” he smirked.  “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice.  You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy.  Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once.  Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time.  Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life.  Until the pizza arrived, at least.  You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you.  “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback.  “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully.  “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right?  Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question.  “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker.  I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza.  “Oh please yes,” you teased.  “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look.  “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza.  So you were a pity friend, great.  Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex.  You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right?  That was a joke.  I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours.  “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.”  You snorted, biting back a small smile.  Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined.  “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night.  We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids.  This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose.  “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason.  Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch.  “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said.  “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want.  I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment.  But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words.  And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner.  Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted.  Not to Minho, though.  He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started.  “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed.  “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more.  To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were.  You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise.  How had it gotten so late?  “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home.  It’s late.”  Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands.  You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home.  You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants.  “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door.  Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom.  And a large bed with dark sheets.  Why was your heart pounding?  Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting.  You shook your head, hurrying out of the room.  Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush.  What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho.  You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps.  Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well.  Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him.  “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression.  “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun.  Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust.  We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public.  No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed.  “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin.  “You might be onto something, actually.  How about you come up with our next practice date.  That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class?  With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you.  “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right.  “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours.  “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did.  The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit.  You’d already poked fun at him.  Who showed up to a date wearing sweats?  Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit.  Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda.  You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples.  Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up?  You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile.  What were you so worked up about?  It’s not like this was a real date.  You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho.  On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all.  You eyed his sweatpants enviously.  You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat.  You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls.  Then you caught sight of the names on the board.  “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’?  What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you.  “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave.  Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head.  “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?  Call me whatever you want.  Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked.  Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips.  You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane.  Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight.  Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow.  It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise.  Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball.  Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success.  Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison.  Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat.  “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him.  “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’.  This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far.  When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans.  You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you.  “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you.  This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling.  “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you.  I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him.  Your cheeks felt warm.  Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three.  As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly.  He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck.  “I’m sorry you paid for so many games.  We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured.  You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky.  “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah.  An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night.  Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment.  And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream.  Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat.  Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop.  You simply watched him, enraptured.  He had hardly opened up at all to you at first.  Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho.  The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend.  Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it.  Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment.  And the look on his face...pride.  He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew.  When had Minho stopped being prickly?  Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite?  When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile.  “See something you like?” he sassed you.  But his remark was devoid of bitterness.  It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting.  It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly.  Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him.  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers.  But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively.  You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in.  Not tonight.  Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell.  And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot.  It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb.  Firstly, you and Minho were not dating.  Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents.  And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends.  You had nothing to worry about.  Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends.  What if they hated you?  Or worse, what if they pitied you?  You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you.  You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first.  “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure.  “Hi!  Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back.  Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open.  Now or never, you told yourself firmly.  Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos.  Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze.  “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right.  You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn.  “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile.  “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think?  Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag.  “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine.  Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.”  You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off.  “It’s all empty threats with that one.  Mostly.  I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake.  “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos.  Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered.  You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race.  With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch.  You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track.  Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust.  Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips.  “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well.  “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining.  Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse.  “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up.  “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race.  Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second.  You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more.  Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round.  “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you.  He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake.  “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too.  We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled.  “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?”  The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well.  Half of the group dissolved into giggles.  Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you.  “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again.  The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you.  “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together.  “The food?  Or am I going to starve?  Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh.  The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you.  Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand.  You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene.  The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing.  Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side.  You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous.  “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter.  “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving.  “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate.  “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more.  “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza.  You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho.  He was still watching you intently, and you frowned.  “What?  Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly.  Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear.  “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said.  I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long.  Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out.  Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours.  Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows.  Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation.  You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours.  Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly.  “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving.  You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well.  “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live?  Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk.  Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything.  “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern.  The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them.  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to.  It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.”  You narrowed your eyes at him.  “I’m not some little girl in need of protection.  It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes.  “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did.  He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply.  “You don’t have a roommate.  If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic.  And not really wanting to.  “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips.  “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys.  “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time.  Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet.  Unsure of yourself.  You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case.  And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up.  Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening.  This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it.  The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours.  You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you.  You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog.  Maybe a cat.  Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop.  “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently.  Were you listening to a word I said?  Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend.  Right.  Your realization didn’t mean much.  Why were you surprised?  You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now?  Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change.  Why would it?  He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool.  You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him.  Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up?  You were always bound for disappointment.  Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality.  “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine.  Thank you for walking me back.  I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight.  How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him?  His face was burned into your mind’s eye.  Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes.  You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears.  Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully.  Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours.  You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said.  “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad.  When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.”  Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away.  Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out.  You didn’t.  “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed.  Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey.  You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly.  When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you.  “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low.  You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours.  For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch.  Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air.  But you didn’t want it to be over.  Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy.  He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline.  He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his.  His lips were plush, a little dry.  Real.  Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver.  You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands.  And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air.  Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips.  He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?”  Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before.  You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together.  And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight.  You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose.  He scrunched his face up, making you giggle.  But you needed to know one thing.  “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating.  Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him.  “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness.  I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest.  Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible.  You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused.  You hummed in agreement, nodding against him.  “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me.  I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying.  But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[forever-rogue]

Hello! Congrats on your follower milestone! 🥳🥳Can I request the prompt "Are you hitting on her for me?" with Pero Tovar? (I love the grumpy Spaniard) I'm a sucker for some hurt/comfort, but you decide where you want to take this. Thank you so much! 🥰🥰🥰🤗

Here we have just some soft, fluff! Enjoy!

Pero Tovar x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Working at the small, aging tavern wasn't an ideal situation but it was enough to pay the bills and then some. Plus free drinks every now and then. And getting to meet some interesting characters. Maybe it wasn't bad at all.

You had a lot of leeway and flexibility and if anything or anyone or anything ever got out of place, you were quick to put an end to it. Your fiery and no nonsense attitude had quickly earned you a reputation that you didn't mind.

So it was interesting when one particular man caused you to experience a bout of nerves. And hells, it wasn't even a stranger...this man had come around many times before whenever he was in the area which seemed to be an awful lot lately. Perhaps the mercenary had laid down his weapons and decided to take on a more and quiet life.

You'd catch his eye almost as soon as he'd walked in, offering up a nervous smile while he gave you a nod of acknowledgment. Was that a smile gracing his own features? 

Pushing away any thoughts - innocent or more lusty - you went back to preparing drinks for the Spaniard and his companion. It was just his usual, nothing fancy, and you quickly padded over to give it to them. Both men thanked you politely and you quickly scuttled away, ready to hide behind the counter. Your cheeks and whole body felt like they were on fire. And from what? A five second interaction in which you couldn't even meet his eyes? Pathetic, you chided yourself. 

Grabbing your previously discarded rag, you went back to scrubbing at the grimy counters.

The little looks and glances that were stolen between the two of you weren’t lost on either one of you. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

And so, it appeared anyway, the two of you continued your little cat and mouse game for some time. And what a wickedly fun little game it was - Pero, you’d learned his name some time ago but found it too intimate to use it, even think it to yourself, would come in and spend his evenings having a drink and reading by himself or in the company of another. He’s started to make it a point to greet you eagerly, and try to hold small conversations with you, coaxing out bits and pieces of yourself. In turn you did the same to him, trying to get to know as much as possible about the former mercenary. But it had never led anywhere more than friendly conversations or lingering looks and salutations. The idea of proposing anything more seemed to knock the wind right out of your sails. Instead you continued to dance the same dance, going round and round again. 

Maybe one day you’d get over him. Him - Pero Tovar - the one that had managed to make you feel small and weak. Yet somehow...you thoroughly enjoyed how he made you feel.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was several months later when his companion, a man who’d also seen quite often, couldn’t take it anymore. But then again, there was only so much that could happen before it all gave way and snapped.

After a quiet round of drinks, the man had seemed to be having a lively discussion with Pero before shaking his head in amusement at the dark haired man. He stood up and shamelessly pointed at you, something you instantly noticed before making his way over. The look on Pero’s face was of shock and awe as he wished his friend would sit back down. 

“Wait,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “are you hitting on her for me?”

“You’re seemingly never going to do it,” he insisted with a coy little shrug, “might as well be me. I’m just pushing you both in the right direction!”

“I implore you to stop,” Pero groaned as his friend just gave him a wicked smirk but continued to walk towards you. He sighed heavily, wanting to slam his head on the table, “fuck.”

“Hello,” the pleasant voice caught your ear by surprise as you jumped from behind the counter where you had been organizing some supplies. Almost stumbling over your own feet, you caught yourself before offering him a small, but nervous smile.

“Hi,” you sounded as nervous as you felt, despite your best efforts, “h-how can I help you?”

“What was your name?” he asked as you gave it to him, trying your best not to glance back over at Pero, who was very pointedly looking away, “my friend over there, Pero, he’s quite smitten with you. He’d never admit it of course, but I figured if he wasn’t going to make a move I would for him.”

“I-I-I...umm. What?” seriously you couldn’t have heard him correctly. Pero...smitten with you? Impossible, “surely you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m just...I’m just…”

“The apple of his eye?” he challenged as you felt your whole face warm up, “he has not stopped talking about you for months. I told him that if he doesn’t gather up his courage and actually speak to you, I would do it for him. So here we are.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t but grin at his words, feeling Pero’s dark eyes on you, as he tried to read your reaction from the distance, “I...I’m quite fond of him too. He’s very kind...and handsome. He’s not like the others around here…”

“He’s a Spaniard!” he joked as you both laughed, “but if it should please you, I’m sure he’d be over the moon to enjoy your company.”

“Ay, that may be true,” you grinned from ear to ear, “but however, I still have duties to attend to.”

“How about we swap?”

“What?”

“Yes,” he held out his hand for the rag you were clutching onto, “how hard can it be? You speak to him, and I’ll handle the counter. Not like it’s terribly busy here, right?”

“I...okay,” you handed over the rag and shuffled around the counter, pulling your apron off and making quick work of discarding it as well, “thank you!”

Slowly making your way over to Pero, you watched as his face shifted through a series of emotions as he tried to remain calm. But before you fully approached him, he jumped out of his seat and pulled the chair opposite him out for you. Stopping short of him, you extended your hand to him, and he easily wrapped it up in his own, giving yours a firm squeeze, “Pero.”

“Querida,” he whispered softly before pointing at the chair. You sat down, wondering what the nickname - not that you minded. It sounded lovely coming from him either way, “I’m sorry about all that. He doesn’t know when to shut up.”

“It’s no matter,” you promised softly, “he’s right...I’ve been...wanting to spend time with you too. I just didn’t think it would be something that you wanted as well.”

“Of course it is,” he admitted, almost shy as a flush of red crept into his cheeks, “I’d really like that, I just needed a push in the right direction apparently.”

“Well,” you grabbed the old mug of ale on the table and knocked it against his, “cheers to that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Six Months Later

“Pero,” you grinned at the tickle of mustache as he kissed along your jaw and neck, your name spilling reverently off of his lips. You couldn’t help but as his hands found purchase on your waist as you tried to give him a gentle push back, “anyone can see, silly man!”

“Let them see,” he insisted in a low, teasing voice, “what are they going to do?”

“Brand us as the sinners we are,” you reminded him as you pulled his face up to meet yours, “they’re all the same - just like us - but you know how people get.”

“Then we’ll run away,” he suggested softly, and you weren’t sure if he was joking or quite serious. He traced a hand over your features, gently resting his hand on your cheek before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “we’ll go and live in sin by the sea - just the two of us.”

“What if I wanted more than living in sin?” you asked softly, biting on your lip as you tried not to seem too forward, “I want it all, with you my love.”

“I will marry you in a heartbeat if you want it,” he promised as you nodded before beaming at him, “and make the most honest woman out of you for the world to see, while remaining sinful behind closed doors.”

“Such lofty promises,” you stole a quick kiss, “but will you make good on it? Truly?”

“Of course,” he insisted with a soft nod, “you are everything, querida, and I will give you everything you want.”

“A cottage by the sea, marriage, and perhaps a babe or two?”

“Consider it done,” Pero grinned from ear to ear as he picked you up and spun you in his arms, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Pero Tovar,” you whispered softly, “more than you will ever know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula   @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy   @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

i think not | owen joyner

requested?; - yes! Owen Joyner x reader - their characters might not be love interests on the show (readers is possibly a new one for Luke/which causes a rift in Juke) but they are in real life and are trying to keep it on the down low especially during cast interviews and with fans.

word count; 2K

warnings; language, yelling but only like two sentences

a/n; I didn’t know how to end it so the ending kinda sucks sorry. also side note, the character the reader plays on jatp is a character I’m planning on writing an x reggie fic with so be on the lookout for that !

that close up tho 

You didn’t mean for it to happen. 

Not the, relationship, of course. You wanted that to happen. You’ve been wanting that to happen since you were an extra dancer on the first season of Julie and the Phantoms and danced right into Owen on accident during The Other Side of Hollywood. He was sweet about it, of course he was, asking if you were okay when he was the one that got barrelled into. The apology coffee date turned into a movie night at his apartment which then turned into weekly Friday night takeout dates which ultimately turned into Owen blurting out one night that he liked you and wanted to be your boyfriend. 

You obviously said yes. 

Which brings you to now, two years later filming season two of JatP, except this time you weren’t a dancer, but a recurring character - Delilah Alarie, a 17 year old girl who can hear ghosts, but can’t see them, and forms an unlikely relationship with everyone’s favorite bassist in a ghost band. This is where the problem comes in. 

When you and Owen started dating back in 2019, you two decided to keep it on the DL because you both weren’t totally sure where it was going to go. At the time you were both so busy: Owen having his first acting job as an adult so he was getting used to the long hours, and you working what felt like 25/8 to get all the dance routines down pat. So you both just...didn’t tell anyone. That’s not to say people weren’t suspicious. Charlie was present at many movie nights and Tori liked to tease you about you how you’d spend your time between takes staring at the blond drummer and his fidgeting fingers. 

Filming wrapped and you planned to announce your relationship at the wrap party, but a certain 19 year old thought it would be smart to get a little wasted and passed out before you could say “hey, we’re dating.” Then, you all went your separate ways and you and Owen didn’t see the need to inform everyone of the relationship, especially because you had to figure out the whole long-distance thing. 

Then Covid hit. And there really wasn’t a need because you both were fighting so hard to not get insecure and worried about the hundreds of miles between you two. But you got through it. Between many facetime calls, a spontaneous trip to Hawaii, and one memorable meet up at a halfway point between your two states, you were finally back in each other's arms after the last three months apart. Of course, it was on set, where everyone thinks you’re just friends. 

So yeah, there’s a problem. Because you didn’t mean for the secret dating to go on for so long. Life just, happened, and now you two are constantly sneaking around your fellow castmates and trading secret kisses in each other’s trailers and having little rendezvous meetings in the apartment building’s pool after your roommates have fallen asleep. You’re sure Savannah and Tori have heard you sneaking out a few times, but they wisely say nothing. Charlie sleeps like the dead so your certain Owen is in the clear. 

It’s not like you two want to keep it a secret. Of course you want to tell your friends, it's just, since it’s gone on for so long you’re scared of what could happen. If they’ll get mad about the sneaking around and the lying. 

But alas, you knew the day when the secret would slip out would come. And today just happened to be that day. 

Your friends were already starting to get suspicious, you and Owen were starting to lose your subtlety with the sneaking around, and some fans don’t understand the term BOUNDARIES and caught you two outside the apartment building one day. You weren’t doing anything relationship-y, you two were just coming back from a short day on set because you both ended at the same time and were looking forward to some much needed alone time. But you both knew better than to hold hands or kiss in public, which you were glad for that rule when a few girls bombarded Owen when you both walked out of the parking garage to head inside. The girls posted about the interaction online and of course, assumptions were made about why you two were together. The cast brought it up, but you both shut it down. You really thought the secret would be exposed because someone would catch you two together...Owen is not good at keeping his hands to himself despite his own PDA rule. 

But no, the secret came to a head because Owen is a big fat st0upid head and got jealous over his best friend. 

It started as a normal day. You got up at the last possible minute, Savannah and Tori already eating breakfast in the kitchen, knowing better than to wake you up before your alarm. You ate, showered, changed into comfy clothes for the ride to work. Madi joined you and the other girls that day, now being a little older her dad trusted her to be alone with the older cast members and alone on set for a little while. You jammed out to Doja Cat and HSM because “range, Y/N, range.” Then you arrived on set to Kenny calling you and Madi over for an impromptu meeting before any of you could reach hair and makeup. 

“Alright, now that the rest of you guys are here, I have an announcement to make.” You looked around to see that it was just the main four and you, and that’s when trepidation hit. The only scene you knew of today that involved you five was when the boys finally became visible to you, and you and Reggie share a moment. It’s a hug, much like the one Julie and Luke shared in the season one finale. But Kenny had come up to you a few days ago, suggesting adding a little something something. He told you he wasn’t sure yet, had to run it by a few execs, but that Jeremy was okay with it and he wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it too. You had said yes, after all Jeremy was the one married so you were really only worried about how he and Carolynn would feel about the kiss, you didn’t even think about Owen. 

That was a mistake. 

“So, I ran it by a few execs and of course, our own Delilah and Reggie, and have decided that after their big hug moment, a little kiss would really make the scene and ma -” 

“Uh I think not.” It was muttered, but everyone heard it. And everyone froze, Kenny stopping mid sentence to look at the culprit. Owen was looking at his hands, completely oblivious to everyone staring at him. He didn’t even realize he’d said it aloud until Jeremy cut the tension with a little forced chuckle. 

“C’mon Owen there’s enough of me to go around.” Everyone chuckled a bit, but Owen froze in his fidgeting, his face going firetruck red and eyes darting over to you. 

“Shit. Fuck I said that aloud didn’t I?” He groaned, putting his face in his hands and, before you could stop yourself, you walked up to him. 

“Hey. Hey c’mon.” You gently wrapped your hands around his wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “It’s okay.” You expected him to look stressed. Based on his tone of voice you were preparing for a minor panic attack. But when you saw his face, all you saw was anger. It shocked you, causing you to stumble back a bit. 

“You knew about this?” And okay, yeah, you also expected a bit of that. But not to this caliber. 

“Owen I -”

“No. No you knew and didn’t tell me? Didn’t think to mention that you’d be kissing one of my best friends? What the hell Y/N?” You flinched, not used to Owen being this angry and loud.

“Owen, buddy, hey. Let’s just -” Charlie started, trying to diffuse the situation having noticed you flinching. 

“No! This isn’t a ‘calm down’ thing. This is a “my girlfriend lied to me” thing and I’m very upset about it!” And whoop...there it is. 

“Owen...” 

“God just, really Y/N?” Then he walks away, leaving you surrounded by your confused friends. It’s silent for a few seconds, everyone taking in what just happened. 

“Um...I know this probably a really bad time to bring this up but uh...y’all owe me twenty bucks each,” Charlie said. Then everyone started talking at one. Kenny apologizing for not knowing, Madi berating Charlie for the bad timing, Charlie firing back that Owen is just being dramatic, and Jeremy consoling you with Kenny. His hand on your back jump starts you into action. You quickly excuse yourself to make your way to Owen’s trailer, knowing that’s probably where he stormed off too. 

You don’t knock when you get there, just walk in, making sure to lock it behind you. Owen is there on the couch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. 

“Owen Joyner what the hell was that?” That’s not what you had wanted to say. You were going to be nice and ease into it. But he yelled first and now you're anxious and stressed and upset. He sighs heavily and looks up at you, eyes red and glassy with unshed tears. 

“I’m sorry. I - Y/N I didn’t mean to freak. I realized halfway here that was not the way to go. I’m so -” You cut him off by pushing him back and crawling into his lap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay I should’ve - I shouldn’t’ve just yelled and I definitely should have told you when Kenny proposed the idea I just got so caught up in the fact it’d be my first on screen kiss and it’d be with a married man who’s in quite possibly the cutest relationship ever and I was worried about -” 

“You’re rambling babe,” Owen says with a smile. It’s a soft thing, one that makes your insides all mushy and your heart starts beating a little faster. “It’s okay. I mean, I would’ve liked to have found out earlier and not in front of our friends - oh my God! I just completely exposed us didn’t I? Oh God!” He whimpers out a whine and leans his head forward onto your shoulder. You giggle at the blonde beneath you, running your hands through his hair as he pinches your sides for the laugh. 

“Babe, I’m pretty sure they already knew.” Owen whips his head up at that, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Charlie mentioned everyone owes him twenty so, i’m pretty sure they were betting on when we’d tell them.” Owen groans and grumbles at that, throwing his head back in a dramatic way to convey his fake frustration. He brings his head back center and smiles softly again at you. 

“I will make sure to steal it from him tonight. That’s our money babe.” You giggle into the kiss he places onto your lips. You two sit there for a few more minutes, exchanging kisses and trading affirmations of love. After a final kiss, one that’s full of passion and heat, you decide to head back to set. 

You walk into the stage with the studio hand-in-hand, smiles on your faces. Madi squeals when she sees you both, running over to hug you. 

“Yay yay! I knew you’d work it out and now I have another couple to fangirl over. Yay!” You hug the small girl back before she bounces over to give Owen the same treatment. 

“Congrats bro,” Charlie says with a smile, clapping a hand on Owen’s back and ruffling your hair up. Jeremy smiles at you two, hugging you both as well. 

“Congrats you two, now can we get back to the meeting? You two dating is old news. Like, 2019 old. But congrats on finally announcing it!” You look at Kenny in shock for a second, before bursting out into laughter, everyone around you following suit. Owen squeezes your hand three times and you look back over at him. You both shoot each other a small smile. 

It’s gonna be okay. 

[kanene-yaaay]

5+1 [Part 3]

5 times Iida was tickled and the one time he wasn’t.

[PART ONE]

[PART TWO]

Kanene’s note: Heyaaa! Okay, I just want you to know that I am WEAK for b-day tickles ! It's just so cute and :'3 *whispering softly* truly precious. Oh, Tenya is 12 years old now! Y a y

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to the anime/manga Boku no Hero.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic with family tickles, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of very greeat arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Tenya with Ler!Hizashi + Ler!Aizawa with brief Ler!Tensei and Lee!Aizawa. All relationships are platonic. Around 1.800 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Allow yourself to have a slow day. Don’t forget to drink water, sleep and eat! <33

[~*~]

Iida drank a second cup of his special orange juice - used only on commemorative days and events - thoughtfully. His birthday party would be late in the evening and, since his family wanted to make it a surprise, he would spend the whole day hanging out with his brother, Aizawa-san and Hizashi-san until all the preparations would be complete. He, of course, offered himself to help with all the decorations, but his parents were firm on their decision and Tenya would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to have some quality time with his brother and the other two heroes. Their work usually demanded a lot of their time.

 Still locked on his thoughts, as the doorbell rang, the teenager opened the door without a second thought in a polite stance, being rudely pulled out of his own mind as he stared at Aizawa and Hizashi, both with dangerous smirks that suddenly filled Iida with clear memories of a tradition Tensei started on the boy’s birthday and his ‘uncles’ (Tenya one day protested at the nickname, pointing it didn’t make sense call them like that because they aren’t blood related. However, his parents explained that this was just a way to express fondness and closeness for someone you care about. The younger one began to call them uncles with more frequency, except on social gatherings) caught on it as well.

 “Hello! ~” Hizashi chipped, making goosebumps run down his spine as Iida closed the door on their face, internally wincing at the clear disrespectful act, however valuing much more his safety than being a polite host.

(But, actually, he wasn’t truly anxious about it. They were always nice and kind with him, making him smile and enjoy himself, even when he wasn’t the perfect model he struggled to be.)

 Tensei’s head peaked from the second living room’s hall as he dashed at full speed across it, accompanying his baby bro with ease and drops of confusion. “Who was it at the door?”

 “Uncles!” Tenya frowned in concentration as he turned the corner, lowering his speed enough to not go face first on the wall, cheeks slightly red and sputtering starting to become present on his tune. “They are going to do that hideous tr-tradition you started when I was a kid!” And Iida Tenya, future hero from a whole noble ancestry of skilled heroes, definitely did NOT pout at his brother’s carefree laughter.

 “Oh, yeah! I forgot about that! It’s so polite of them to help me to remember, don’t you think?”

 “No!! It’s not polite! High level heroes like you shouldn’t be committing such embarrassing, hideous act in the first place, even less repeating it yearly!!”

 “Aww, you’re repeating your words. You’re excited, aren’t you?” Tensei smiled, knowing his brother enough to notice that gleam in his eyes and the lack of a real protest in his words. He ignored the squeaked ‘NO!’ thrown at him and smiled even wider, doing a fast maneuver that put his body between his brother and the door, hugging him on his chest with a ‘oof’ when they inevitably collided. “You know what? Since they’re being so nice with us, I think we should repay their kindness, right?” Tensei grinned when he heard the footsteps coming closer, shouting “HEY, GUYS! BIRTHDAY BOY IS HERE!”

 “Tensei!!” But he was already smiling, squirming excitedly on his brother’s hold, especially when a loud, happy ‘YEAHHH!’ boomed through the house. “No, no!! This is betrayal! Deception! Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!!!”

 “Now you’re just reciting the dictionary.” Ingenium laughed, no hint of regret on his voice, distractedly nodding at his friends when they appeared at the door. “Look,” he whispered, conspiratorially, “I will need you to distract them until Shouta lowers his guard so I can sneak upon him. Hizashi would never pass up an opportunity to tickle him too, so you will be safe to run and get something useful for us to bribe them with, ok?” The younger gasped, quickly nodding. “Right. So, are you ready for your part of the plan, sidekick?”

 “YES!” Iida chomped the air, voice louder than he originally intended, but his squeal even louder as the other Iida squeezed his side before any hint of what they were talking about could be noticed by the two guests, who now were now much closer, I might say.

 “Now, now. It seems like a little listener here is excited for his so desired birthday tickles!!” Hizashi wiggled his fingers in his direction, meaneancily. “Oh! They grow up so fast! It feels like it was yesterday we would be playing heroes, and I, the most incredible villain LoudChaos would be defeated by Ingenium Junior and his vicious attacks of kicking his pillows at me!!” The blond pinched his cheek playfully, watching as the groan of his nephew dissolved in a determined look a few seconds later, energetic gestures following him.

 “You will never be able to crack me, villains. Not even with embarrassing memories from my childhood!”

 “I don’t know, I think those times when we had to buy at least three copies of your favorite plushie because otherwise you wouldn’t let us wash the original was pretty- ack! Hey, hey!” Tensei snickered as he tried to dodge from Tenya’s warning kicks, “I was kidding! I was kidding!”

 “Want me to hold him?” Aizawa asked nonchalantly, a small quirk of his mouth showing his amusement about the whole situation. At Tensei's affirmative nod he held the younger’s arms above his head, briefly messing with his neat combed hair before smirking. “Congrats for being twelve years next to death, brat.”

 Tenya deadpanned at him.

 “Ooh, right, twelve!!” Hizashi’s fingers were teasingly getting closer, slowly and then even slowlier, almost touching a spot before pretending to launch at others, resulting in kicks and muffled shrieks from the younger one. “You know what that means, right, Shou?”

 “Yes. We will have to tickle him for twelve entire years.”

 “Aw, such a pity.”

 “No! Lies! That is incorrect!”

 “Is that so, not-so-little listener? What should we do then?”

 “According to your rather silly and foolery tradition you should tickle me for twelve entire minutes. One minute for each year.”

 Aizawa and Yamada shared a look, Tensei holding his chuckles and tears in the background. His brother was just way too much precious.

 “We should what?” Shouta questioned with a voice completely devoid of emotion, maybe that is why Tenya felt the answer slip away from his lips easily even before he could register the potential trap.

 “Tickle me!”

 “Well,” Hizashi attacked, skilled fingers tickling and tickling and tickling every spot they could research. “If you insist.”

 There were fingers dancing on his ribs and poking his stomach as a maddening prodding began to be delivered on his sides and even a squeeze found its way to his knee. A much more lazy, almost unbearably light touch drew shapes on his neck, scribbling lightly and softly to his ears and then all the way back to his collarbone, going from one side to another, over and over again.

 “Coothie coothie coo, little listener!!” His loud laughter, intertwined with squeaks, yelps and guffaws due the mix between all the soft and energetic tickles, almost made the teasing disappear. Key word: Almost. “Have a tickle, tickle here!” He shook his head, trying to dislodge the fingers on his neck. “And tickle, tickle, tickle there!” Spidering on his shoulder blades made him squirm more. “Have all the tickles, tickly tickles everywhere!!”

 “YOHOHOHOU WILL NOT DEFEHEHEAT ME!” Tenya’s smile was almost taking over his entire face, chuckles and giggles spilling freely from him. Yet, - he decided, - he has an important part of the plan and would not lose easily! That was the only reason why he continued firm on his position, figuratively laughing his head out, and definitely not because of how their attention and silliness made him feel happy, safe and loved.

 “Of course not.” Shouta paused for a few pieces of seconds, checking his phone. “You still have five minutes left. I am sure you will agree to a defeat, eventually.”

 “Nehehever!” Iida did his best to shout, quick, airy snickers floating in the air when Yamada decided to give him a break, leaving only Shouta’s torment to keep the other smiling.

 “Hey, hey, hey, little listener!” Tenya knew this tune. He knew that when Uncle Hizashi used that he was planning something. His smile became wobblier and he refused to open his eyes. “Come on, don’t let me hang on here! Look at me, pleaaase?”

 The boy just shook his head, eyes still firmly closed.

 “Shoouuu, he doesn’t want to see the big, great, amazing surprise I have for him! That is not fair.”

 “He is smart. It’s not his fault for your lack of charisma.”

 “Gaaasp! You wound me! Friendship ended with Ereaserhead, now my new best friend is Tensei!”

 A pause.

 “Buuuut, the vacancy is still open if maybe, just maaaybe,” A wiggly finger tickled under his chin, a snort flew in the air, “a clever teenager with a cute laughter and blue hair decides to open his eyes…”

 “Yohohou will not crahack me!”

 “Please,” Poke, “Please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” Poke, poke, pokepokepoke-

 “Stop!” And then he finally opened his eyes, finding a very smiley Hizashi in front of him, making a silly face. He half groaned and half giggled, the former action only due Aizawa’s tickles, of course.

 “Aw, you didn’t find it funny?” The blonde crossed his arms, pretending to think about his next move. “Donut worry, then! I know something that will make you laugh!!”

 And then, in a blink of an eye, he blew a gigantic raspberry on his tummy.

 In the exact moment Tenya’s loud, uncontrollable, squeaky belly laughter exploded, Aizawa let go of his arms, a surprised, sharp snorts coming out as Tensei hugged him from behind, his hands being quick to attack his unprotect armpits, low muffled squeals and rumbling chuckles beginning to float in the air.

 Tenya fell on his knees, hugging his stomach and tittering non stop as Yamada tenderly ruffled his hair, giving the boy’s cheeks another gentle pinch before getting his attention captured by his best friend’s tickled laughter, his wicked grin making another appearance.

 “Is it already Tickle Shouta hours??” He cracked and wiggled his fingers, making a whole show of getting prepared, crackling in delight as the black haired adult laughed harder at the silliness, laying completely limp on Ingenium’s embrace, face starting to be colored by a light red, legs kicking and a hand hiding his mouth, even if the corner of his smile was still clearly visible.

 And, as Iida laid on the cold floor, rarefied giggles escaping from time to time, as new laughter and teases filled the room, he thought that he actually didn’t mind that much that such foolery, silly tradition had wormed its way in their family.

[boop-le-snoot]

Doll Parts | tony stark x reader

i love him so much it just turns to hate // he only loves those things because he loves to see them break // and someday you will ache like i ache // Hole - Doll Parts

all hurt comfort. angst. no happy ending. big sad. tony could have been like this, you know. he was like this to pepper at some point. i don't know why i am like this today. rated M for themes of (implied) addiction & cheating and non-explicit mentions of intimacy. word count: 3,3k

It wasn't as if she was blind or dumb. She saw the way he treated everyone around him; whenever a single person got too close he'd push them away, consciously or not. The man loved pushing everybody's buttons as if he was playing Galaga for a living; rapidly, mercilessly, with intent. Tony Stark was not a man to whom a person would give their heart willingly.

It was her own fault she went and gave hers away, to him, of all people. And sometimes, it did feel like he loved her, in his own way. Tony would shower her with gifts and affection, cling to her whenever he wasn't away on SI business, and God, the sex was out of this world. Sometimes, she felt as if she would suddenly burst into a blinding flash of light, scalding and deafening, that would sprout from the invisible wounds his fingers left on her skin. Like fine china, she cracked little by little under his steady, tender hands.

The first time he'd ended their short, by average standards, but long - by his, relationship, it didn't come as a surprise. She had never held illusions on ensnaring the world's most notorious playboy. Younger and less jaded, she amicably agreed to get her things that very same day, blocked his number and left for an overdue vacation in the tropics. Being able to browse the gossip sites speculating on their lack of public appearances whilst sipping a Strawberry Daiquiri was a much better alternative to spending her nights holed up in rainy Manhattan, having to answer numerous "I told you so" calls from friends and relatives.

Maybe, three daiquiris should've been enough. But she'd quit smoking because he said the smell bothered him and she- well, she could do anything she wanted now. Being alone and not dating a very public figure definitely had way more perks than she previously had taken for granted in her much less exposed life. That's how the heartache began to recede: it was hard to mope when fun was calling for you by your name.

Some of Tony's character traits had migrated onto her. Which wasn't bad per se, she had been told she could use to loosen up. Her friends rejoiced in the newfound adventurousness, never missing an opportunity to go out, throw a party, go on a clubbing spree. She was game and she was enjoying it. Dolled up and eyes sparkling, the newfound confidence radiated off her like a beacon, attracting just about every single like-minded person in a five mile radius.

Tony's champagne he had sent to their table meant nothing. Her friends laughed and giggled and asked her all about the juicy details about the billionaire; as much as she searched the rowdy crowd for a familiar pair of baby doe browns, they weren't anywhere within sight. So she went back to talking and smiled as bright as the strobe lights, throwing down a whiskey shot to water the burning ache in her chest.

She found him on the dancefloor. Seconds after she stepped her foot into the mass of grinding bodies Tony was there, an equally happy and intoxicated smile on his face and arms wide open, as if they hadn't parted ways at all. She wanted to be angry with him, she really did, she wanted to snide his frivolity and the possessive way that he had the audacity to treat her.

His eyes, they were her untold weakness. She hadn't seen him so happy in months. Just once, she agreed, she'd let it slide. And so they danced, bodies accustomed to each other in the way that seemed to be impossible for her to achieve with anyone since the day that she left Tony Stark.

A splitting headache and a cold, empty bed greeted her the next morning. Thankfully, her clothes were laying haphazardly on the floor of the bedroom - the bed that was not his own but, rather, as she assumed, one of the many guest rooms in his tower.

Not the one to usually harbour shame of her very human needs, she felt like a cheap whore when she got dressed and grabbed her purse, making a beeline for the door to the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, she was greeted with a woman in a professional suit - tall, strawberry blonde and as cold as the Arctic, beautiful in the Vogue-magazine, unattainable way.

"Good morning," The woman spoke in a pleasant tone.

She wanted to retch from the false cheerfulness. "Good morning, ma'am. I was just leaving," Refusing to bow to her own shame, she flashed an equally cheerful grin towards the blonde.

"I'm Mr. Stark's personal assistant, my name is Pepper Potts," They briefly shook hands, neither of them wanting to touch the other longer than it was necessary. "There is a car waiting for you downstairs. Be sure to take the left exit."

Internally fuming, she smiled slightly wider, seeing no need to introduce herself or prolong the awkward interaction longer than necessary. "Thank you, Ms. Potts, that will not be necessary. I have arranged my own ride. Have a nice day, ma'am," With that, she pressed the button once again, entering the elevator with the expression of polite contentment glued to her face like a persistent piece of dog shit she couldn't shake off the bottom of her shoe.

Ms. Potts' façade slipped slightly - she must've been new - as the blonde ran a sharply observant look over the woman in the elevator, pulling out her phone as soon as the elevator door was halfway closed. That was quickly forgotten, her head growing clearer with each second it was pressed against the cold window of the cab she'd called on the way downstairs.

It was a mistake, a perfectly human accident that happened to the best of them. Only it left a bitter residue somewhere south of her ribcage, something acrid and viscous that even alcohol couldn't melt. The more she drank, the thicker that ball of rolled up frustration became, bleeding into her work, her relationships with her friends. It was tiresome to keep craving something so far out of her reach.

The exhaustion grew day by day, until her chest felt constricted for most part of the day and all the oxygen in the whole wide world wasn't enough. Her heartache was saved, strangely enough, by aliens - they rained down on New York city like frogs during the Plague in the book of Exodus; as if God himself was angry at the state of affairs of his favourite pet earthlings. For a time, she couldn't afford to worry about her broken heart and focused on the dilapidated city, landing her resources and skills whenever, whenever she could.

Late at night, exhausted and drained, she allowed herself to flick through the news, eagerly soaking up the new details that seemed to pop up every other day. Aliens were real, Thor was one, Captain America was alive and her ex-boyfriend was now a member of the merry band of misfit superheroes.

She had never taken his hero sidegig too seriously. Tony had some good in him, he wasn't the attention-demanding supervillain-waiting-to-happen, but neither he was hero material. The Tony she knew was akin to a hyperintelligent kid left without supervision. Consequences were a slight setback, not a surefire deterrent for this man.

Her building remained mostly intact - some cosmetic damages that were repaired quickly and did not concern her apartment at all - so she stayed in the same place, much to everyone's dismay. A good chunk of her friends had moved away from NYC as soon as they could - not that she blamed them - but the calls of her family, consisting of begging and nagging her to move states, were beginning to climb over the annoying line very quickly. More often than not, she ignored all calls that weren't from her friends or work.

It shouldn't have surprised her that Tony showed up on her balcony one night - but the shriek that left her was utterly involuntary. His armored suit was noisy and clunky, just like was expected from a huge chunk of metal. Tony's face was a ghost of the man she used to know: he was pale, the bags under his eyes were fit to carry groceries in and he'd lost more than a few pounds around his middle.

Not that she had a glow-up. Work hours were long, volunteer work was by far more exhausting and emotionally draining. With her support system scattered across the country and free hours few and in-between, she'd acquired a shrink. Nightmares went away and the sluggishness, too, thanks to a couple of convenient prescriptions. It seemed like the professionals were as clueless as any in dealing with the aftermath of an alien invasion.

"You weren't returning my calls," Tony stated in the way of hello. It was so like him, to be skipping the pleasantries and glossing over the details.

"I have your number blocked," She replied unkindly, raising an eyebrow as the suit retracted and the man, wearing worn jeans and an oil-stained tee, stepped into the twilight of her home without an invitation.

"I wanted to make sure you are alive and your home is being rebuilt in case it was demolished. Stark foundation is shouldering most of the expenses," He offered in the way of explanation, beelining for the nice whiskey she kept in a tumbler in the living room.

The snort escaped her lips before she could help it; brain chronically overtired but medicated; Adderall and weariness. He was never a good liar, only a good faker. "Why are you here, Tony?" All of it: the damages, the casualties, all of it was public record, accessible 24/7. All he had to do was open Google.

He turned around, scanning her head-to-toe, in that not-quite-convinced way. "Just wanted to see if you're okay," He tried for nonchalant but his eyes were haunted. The whiskey glass he was holding empty in seconds.

She walked up to him, staying at an arm's distance from the man, before doing a slow, sarcastic twirl. "I'm fine. Not a scratch. Was in Staten Island that day."

He nodded, not at all convinced. "Good," Before slamming the glass down with such force, she was afraid the countertop now sported a rounded indent. Fingers twitching, he pulled the woman into himself before she could utter a peep, smashing their lips together without any grace, paying no attention to the way she froze as still as a statue. "God, I missed you. Couldn't bear the thought of you dying..." He mumbled in between harshly biting the plump of her bottom lip and steering the kiss towards his wishes, hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head.

He tasted like whiskey and desperation.

She couldn't not give in. She'd felt the same way when she watched his red and gold armor fly into that wormhole, missile in tow. She'd felt the same despair clawing at her ribcage when his lifeless body flew back from it before being caught by the rabid green monstrosity.

It wasn't graceful and it wasn't pretty; feeling like a monster herself, she responded the same way he did. She shredded his clothes, she clawed his back, leaving wet crimson streaks in the wake of her nails and whispered the ugliest, nastiest truths she had denied herself for so long. He left with the promise to stay in contact and for once, he did.

Nothing was the same. Tony was far from the careless, extravagant billionaire he used to be. These days he was a cynical, analytical asshole that one-upped people even before he had a real need to do so. Both of them had changed, really. She was not the tender uptown girl either.

The nights with him were rare and long; the nights alone with her work were recurrent and longer. The tower stood out on the NYC skyline like a sore thumb, beckoning with the unattainable snipe hunt of having something stable with the world's #1 superhero, Tony Stark. Each time they met, she felt almost as dirty as the time she stood in the elevator under the scrutiny of Pepper Potts.

Even if he didn't outright hide her. She'd ran into Black Widow and Clint Barton once or twice, each of them casting a glance at her Special Visitor badge before muttering niceties and moving on with their day. It was only slightly better with the Captain: he got in the elevator two floors below Tony's penthouse at 8 AM in the morning, just as she was leaving for work - dressed in a sharp pantsuit that was not-quite on Pepper's level. The soldier must've assumed she was a high-rank employee or a friend, the tips of his cheeks blushing as he spoke a quiet: "Good morning, ma'am," In that semi-formal tone of his.

Seeing a grown man get so flustered was quite adorable. "Good morning, Captain Rogers, sir," She replied in a matching tone, humoring him.

The elevator stopped suddenly and a few employees got in, staring openly at the national icon, who had his eyebrows slanted in confusion. The woman shared his sentiment: it was Tony's private elevator. She guessed all the other ones were too full in the mornings so the tower's AI put the underused one to work.

Or, at least, that's what she tried to convince herself of anyway. It wouldn't be past Tony to get jealous over something as trivial as sharing an elevator car with Captain America.

The plateau of normalcy didn't last long. Just as she was opening her third bottle of wine for the night, laptop open on the kitchen counter and proudly displaying "Tony Stark and Pepper Potts - America's newest power couple?" article, she realised he was a coward, too. Slowly but surely, he had ghosted her, not even bothering with an explanation of his sudden unavailability, the several dates missed and even more postponed indefinitely.

They were never going to be a normal couple. She had made her peace with that, ugly and depressing - but it was real. She thought what they had was real. She finally had admitted to herself that she loved him, loved an impossible man, loved to the bottom of Hell and pitfire. The fireworks under her skin had never fully gone away, she realised as more and more ugly sobs broke from her chapped lips.

She blocked his number again and bought herself a new one, deleting the "Tony Stark" contact for good. There was more than enough work to do and the time to feel sorry for herself was sparse. And if she picked up a habit to make sure the time working was spent with proper efficiency, without soaking documents in saltwater that her eyes seemed to overproduce those days? It wasn't a big deal. She needed to get back on her feet somehow, without being dragged by a man who wasn't even present to actively be ruining her life anymore.

If anything, she thought she should feel grateful. The blinding light, the stars that exploded and shone inside her only for Tony, became something poisonous and vile. It wasn't the bitter taste of regret; rather, she felt a flash of ravenous, burning anger every time his name or his face popped up in a press article within her eyesight. Love and hate weren't that different when it came to the intensity: she basked in those newfound feelings, taking care to pick apart and neatly sort each of his perceived flaws on a cute little shelf in her overtaxed brain and fatigued heart.

It wasn't healthy. A convenient escape for the summer; a cabin far, far away from the busy New York city - she took up the offer and relocated there, being content with working remotely, drinking strawberry mimosas by the lakeside. Day by day, the clarity of her mind returned, lulled into a false sense of security by the tranquil trees slowly swaying in the breeze and wide ripples in the water.

Tony seemed to be enjoying bringing chaos into her life and making her miserable. The quinjet landed right on the neatly manicured lawn in front of the cabin, several obviously exhausted and wounded superheroes dismounting the vehicle, Tony looking sheepish but determined in the lead.

She wasn't completely unaware of the rest of the world and knew of the fiasco the Avengers recently had. Was it the half-dead, limping Widow or the baby blues of the Captain, she couldn't tell, but the woman ushered them into her house, gathering the tools needed for first aid with haste. Fate wasn't looking to give her a break.

As soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen, alone, Tony was there, looking much like that time on the balcony, baby doe browns turned up to eleven and a groveling speech prepared on demand. He'd noticed her weight loss and the ashen tone of her skin, the prominent veins and the bags under her eyes. She was as obvious as a brick to the face with her vices.

She slapped him. He winced, but stayed quiet, preparing himself for the storm - and storm him she did, keeping quiet enough for most of the team to be able to tactfully ignore the scolding Tony was getting. "I despise, you, Stark. You're a coward. Do not dare to set foot in my house ever again."

Needless to say, the superheroes departed shortly after Natasha's injuries were stabilised and frowning, disappointed Thor and Steve (they'd asked her to address them by their first names) bashfully apologized for their sudden intrusion and any discomfort they might have caused. She smiled at Steve, wide and big; refusing to admit it was done just to spite Tony, she joked and blushed in response to the Captain.

Tony did not attempt to contact her again. For some time, she lived in fear - irrational one at that - he'd appear and wreck her life one more, final time, before admiring the destruction and leaving her a steaming pile of ashes on the floor. But seasons passed and all of it faded, like a vivid, terrible nightmare.

Piece by piece, her life was getting put back together. His name stopped invoking a swarm of feelings she needed to drown just to stay afloat; there were news regarding him, another violent altercation, and she simply flicked the TV back to adult swim. New friends and new hobbies were being made; the fine cracks made by his agile fingers were being filled with the gold of newer, better discoveries.

There was always something going on in the superhero world and finally one of the topics reached her line of work: mutant rights. She'd never stopped being a volunteer after that NYC invasion, making new connections in a domain previously unexplored, it paid off in spades regarding her career growth. The connections were vital to be able to climb the corporate ladder successfully.

Stark showed up at her door three days after half of his merry band of misfits were pronounced fugitives. This time, she expected it. She knew better than to expect him to assume responsibility by himself - a quick Google search and his relationship status was listed as once again single - the Virginia Potts she knew would not have let anything like that happen. Stark was on his own.

"They betrayed me," He'd said, from behind the door she had cracked open a few inches, to make him know he wasn't welcome in her home.

"I think you know now, how I felt then," She didn't falter, ignoring the way his still freshly-bruised face darkened. "As far as I am concerned, you deserve it. Goodbye, Tony." She shut the door without waiting for his response, hearing his footsteps slowly back away as she made herself another coffee.

Tony Stark taglist: @another-stark-sub @letsby @mostly-marvel-musings @rdjesus4ever @ladyeliot

Well um 💀 yeah. I'll go and attempt to scavenge some serotonin somewhere now. Thanks for reading! 💖✨

[lizzielikeborden]

The Boy Next Door

Request: 3 and/or 30 from the fluff prompts list with Five Hargreeves x best friend fem!Reader pls and thank you! 😊

Character: Five Hargreeves

Prompt: Fluff-  3. “You’re everything I could’ve wanted and more.” &  30. “I’ve been in-love with you since we were kids.”

Summary: From the neighbor you were supposed to avoid as a little kid to your bestfriend. And now there you were as teenagers with your bad math homework and a plan..

You know the children in school that parents often tell each other to keep their kids away from? You never had those kids in school, but your next door neighbors. Yeah, those were the kids everyone was told to actively avoid. For a long time, well, until about the 5th grade you listened. Though they didn’t play outside during the day sometimes you could spot a Hargreeves child running about at night. You also broke the rules and stayed up past bedtime which is exactly how you saw them. One day, to your surprise, one of them noticed you sitting in your window.

 It was a beautiful night, stars in the sky, moon full and out, the air was cold and crisp. Of course you didn’t know that yet but you soon would. See, as you sat there in the window someone else was looking back. Bright eyes, black hair, big smile, but you hadn’t seen him smile. In fact you noticed him and he froze. You smiled and waved down at him as he stood a whole yard away, just staring at you instead of space. He lifted a hand and did a small wave back. After that you turned to go to bed, or at least go lay down not wanting to interrupt his night. Before you could even blink he disappeared. Then you turned around and there he was. 

“HOW DID YOU- WHO ARE YOU?” You yelped and jumped back, completely caught off guard by the fact that the boy who was just being awkward from across the way was now standing in your room.

“I’m Number Five, you can call me Five, and I am ten seconds older because I went from there to here.’ He sighed and gave you a side smile. 

“You just magically went from there to here?” You took a step toward him and raised an eyebrow.

“Not magic, spatial jump.” He corrected you.

“Why are you over here?”

“You looked like you wanted to watch the stars, so I thought I would help you go outside and see. Space is much more beautiful out there than in here.” He stepped around you and pointed to the window. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You took a happy and daring step close to him. Your eyes as big and bright as his, maybe even a little more. 

With a deep breath he took the step close to you and awkwardly put out a hand for yours. A bit shaky, you put your hand in is, in a split moment you were both outside in the cool air. The stars sparkled against his blue eyes like sunrays on a clear river. The cold air hit you with a strong chill, of course he took notice of this and wordlessly gave you his jacket. Words were absolutely mute and did not need to happen. The two of you laid down on the cold grass next to each other.  Happy. Quietly. Lovely.

That night you became the first real friend outside of his family that Five had ever had. He let you take his jacket home with you since he had so many of the same one. You thought about that night a lot, the way that the firs thing you did was realize how beautiful his eyes were in the night’s light. The way that you so willingly took his hand. But ever since then you’d been attached at the hip. You learned how to make coffee the way he liked it, he learned to braid your hair to keep it out of your face better than a ponytail or bun. You would let him appear at random times in the night to sit and talk to him about how bad his days were. And sometimes he would even settle down so much from talking that he would fall asleep on your shoulder. He read you stories in Greek and made you try coffee that he knew you wouldn’t like just to see you smile. Of course you didn’t know that, but it was true. All of these lovely little things that made you the closest of friends. You were all now about to start high school, well you were, the Hargreeves children never really went to school. Years of being friends, incredibly close friends that had some really good on and off somehow positive tension led to the day that changed everything. 

You turned on your lamp next to the desk and flashed it twice. That was how Five knew to come over and see you. The plan was simple, tell him how you feel and see what happens. Years of having donut movie nights, dancing in your room, threatening to take him to school dances, making him look at you like you were insane anytime you said anything accidentally stupid, and spending nights before his birthday with him just so you could be the first to wish him a happy birthday. Though thinking you saw his shadow from the window next door. He saw the light blink.  You then ran over to your bookbag and dragged it across the floor, taking out the math homework you did during your study hall. You pulled the chair over and sat in it, tapping your pencil against the desk. 

“Numbers 7, 14, and 17 are completely wrong, and others just need some slight adjustments. I don’t think you understand this even remotely.” A hand got placed on your shoulder and Five leaned over your work. You stood up from the chair and put a hand out toward it.

“Be my guest.” He sat in the chair and took the pencil from your hand. He began to analyze what you had done. 

You stood behind him and watched him work, he was so focused. On the other hand you were a nervous wreck, it was like air was trapped in your throat. Five could feel the anxiety radiating off of you, this was completely verified when he turned around to speak to you about how badly done your homework was. You were standing behind him just staring out the window bug-eyed. 

“Y/N?” Five spun the chair completely around and raised an eyebrow at you. “Hey.” He poked your arm and then clapped his hands softly in front of your face.

“Hm? Yeah?” You turned to him, but did not make any eye contact. 

“What’s going on?” He rose from the chair and stood infront of you. 

“I- Uhm. I need to just sit, you’re good to keep doing what you’re doing.”

“You sure you’re okay?” . 

“Yeah I am great.” You nod back and then sat on the bed whilst he took his seat back in the chair he was just in. He pretended to work on it, just twiddling the pencil between his fingers. He knew something was wrong. Then, after the dead silence, there was a small snap.

“I broke the pencil lead, i’ll be right back.” He flashed out of the room.

You shoved your head into the pillow and let out a quiet scream. Then you rolled off the pillow and groaned, 

“Yes Five, I am perfectly fine. So awesome. I just yknow have been trying to say that  I’ve been in-love with you since we were kids. You make me so happy and that tension yeah I would love to act on it. I know you aren’t really interested in people because everyone sucks and friends are hard to come by so I am sorry for saying anything. But you’re everything I could’ve wanted and more and I think we could really make each other happy in a different way but what do I know.” A pencil was heard hitting the floor, you jumped and turned to see Five standing with his mouth slightly agape.

“D-did you mean that?” He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a strangled breath. 

“I- I. Wow. You were not meant to hear that.” You hid your face with a pillow. 

“So you didn’t mean it?” You could hear pained confusion in his speech. 

“No, well yes, I did. I mean. I do.” The pillow you were holding close to your face was being pulled down. 

He took your hand off and put your hand in his, “You are such an idiot.” He joked.

“Is that you saying you love me back and that all of our memories mean so much to you and you wanna be with me.” You laughed and he pulled you by your arm close to him.

“Yes. That is exactly what I meant.” He smiled and you could tell he meant every word you just said...

[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

[arrowofcarnations]

I’m Gonna Thrill You Tonight

Written for the eleventh day of Fic-O-Ween 2020, the Halloween-themed Sweater Weather/Coast to Coast fest organized by the wonderful M @opaleyedragon. This was such an awesome idea—thank you for putting this together so well and so quickly!

Thank you a million times over to SW & C2C author Hazel @lumosinlove for letting us play in her universe with her incredible characters. And a huge thanks to the lovely people of the SW discord for their support, encouragement, and inspiration. Y’all are the best hype squad a girl could ask for!

Title yanked from one of the all-time greatest Halloween jams, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Enjoy, goblins and ghoulies~

(Note: This work is rated E, so avert your eyes if you are a minor, please!)

~

It was Halloween night, and Finn O’Hara was going to die.

“Knutty won’t let you die,” Logan replied with a grin. “He’ll literally figure out how to resurrect you just so he has help with the food.”

Finn watched Logan watching himself in the bedroom mirror, turning this way and that as his green eyes looked over his costume. “No, I mean like—” Finn flung a hand out in Logan’s direction, making an up and down motion. “Look at you. Look at you.”

Logan’s amused smile slid into something more devious as he turned around to face Finn. The Batman costume he’d bought for this year’s team Halloween party was far more family-friendly than the one he’d worn at Harvard all those years ago, but it was still tight, the black spandex of the jumpsuit stretching over his broad chest and thighs in ways that were making it impossible for Finn to think about putting cupcakes on platters and filling the candy bowl downstairs for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

He crossed the room to put his hands on Finn’s hips, holding him there as he leaned up and brushed his lips against Finn’s in a barely-there kiss. “Who knew you had such a thing for Batman, eh?” he teased.

Finn huffed out a laugh, catching Logan in a firmer kiss that lingered as he let his hands roam up Logan’s arms and down his back, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric. “I have a thing for you as Batman,” he said, which was true to a maybe-embarrassing degree. He could feel the heat of those green eyes, sharp and intense as they peered at him through the dark mask, going straight to a hallowed place just below the plastic yellow belt of his Robin costume.

Logan’s smile widened at the admission and he gave Finn a playful butt tap, the same way he’d do on the ice. After a moment, though, his mouth fell into a more serious line, brows knitting in thought.

“What?” Finn asked, sensing the shift in mood.

“No, just…” Logan bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes searched Finn’s. “This—me in this costume—it’s not making you sad, right?”

Finn’s heart pulled a little at that—seeing Logan in the cape and cowl again had, unsurprisingly, brought up a lot of old memories—but he meant it when he smiled at Logan and shook his head no. “It’s not,” he murmured, giving Logan’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “It might’ve a year ago, maybe, but now…” He pressed his hands to the expanse of Logan’s chest, palms warmed by the heat of Logan’s body. “I can touch you the way I want. And tell you I love you. And that you make a fucking hot Batman.”

Logan was smiling again, the worry smoothed out of his face. He leaned in to kiss the hollow of Finn’s throat, the press of it more tender than teasing. “D’accord. Bon.”

“Da-core. Bone.”

Logan groaned like Finn had just told an awful joke, but he was fighting a grin even as he shook his head. “Please don’t,” he said. “Your accent hurts me.”

“Hey, Batman and Robin, let’s hustle,” Leo called, his footsteps in the hall getting louder until he was joining them in the room. “Everybody’s on their way.”

Finn and Logan looked over at him, their mouths falling open simultaneously. Finn wasn’t sure what he’d imagined when Leo had told them he’d be dressing up as Poison Ivy, but any mental images he’d enjoyed over the past week or two paled in comparison to the real thing.

The real thing was standing in his bedroom, all six-feet-three-inches of him, his tight green jumpsuit adorned with leaves and twisting vines that were thicker in strategic places. His shoes were the same color, blending into the rest of the outfit and making his already-long legs look like they went on forever. Finn’s mouth watered as his eyes trailed down the low (low, low) V-cut of the suit down those mile-long legs and back up again to Leo’s face. He was looking at them expectantly, one eyebrow raised beneath a halo of blond, leaf-strewn curls.

Logan cleared his throat. “Holy…”

“Shit,” Finn finished for him, voice low and emphatic. “Look. At. You.”

Watching Leo’s expression morph from confused to surprised to flattered made Finn’s heart swell. He didn’t know how Leo could be at all surprised by their reaction, given what he was wearing, but the earnest flush rising on his cheeks told Finn he hadn’t quite been expecting to drop any jaws.

“No time,” Leo said with a head shake, but he was smiling brightly under the glow of their praise. “Dumo and Celeste are like, five minutes away. If we start this now…”

But Finn was already crossing the room to Leo, needing to be closer, needing to touch. “We’ll never go downstairs, because we’ll spend the rest of the night worshipping you,” he said, letting his fingertips trail down the bare stretch of skin from Leo’s throat to the end of his sternum.

“Ouais,” Logan hummed in agreement, coming up to stand on Leo’s opposite side and nip playfully at his earlobe, chasing it with a kiss. “Très sexy, Nut.”

“Oh god.” Leo was laughing and taking a step back, hands on each of their shoulders to keep them at bay, but the flush on his cheeks that was now working its way down his neck gave him away. Finn smiled; he loved a flustered Leo, loved being the one to fluster him. “No time.”

“You said five minutes,” Logan said, undeterred.

“Yeah,” Finn added. “I can work with five minutes. We all know Lo can work with five minutes.”

Finn laughed as Logan gave his shoulder a shove. Leo just shook his head again. Then his smile slanted a bit, looking more like a smirk, as his eyes traveled from Logan to Finn and back again. “Later,” he said, voice low and full of promise. “When we have hours, not minutes.” He kissed them, one after the other, and said, “Come on, I’m not letting these cupcakes burn!”

Leo was already out the door as Finn and Logan looked at each other with raised brows.

“We’re making him wear that every fucking year,” Logan said.

Finn kissed him through a smile. “Oh, yeah. And not just on Halloween. Birthdays, anniversaries, days that end in Y…”

~

Leo was glad they’d volunteered to host this year. Since he and Finn had been roommates before getting together, and they’d already been living together when Logan moved in, they’d never thrown the kind of housewarming party that other newly shacked-up people in relationships often did. It was always fun when the whole team could get together like this with their families, and the fact that it was here, in this space Leo now shared with both his loves, made it that much sweeter.

That was the last coherent thought Leo had before the chaos of the night began. Not two seconds after he got the last of the food set out, the entryway filled with the sound of “Happy Halloween!” being shouted in unison by the entire Dumais clan. By the time Leo reached them, the kids were already all over Logan, chattering a mile a minute and showing him the candy haul they’d collected so far. Finn hugged Celeste and fist bumped Pascal before he was jogging down the front steps to help James and Lily, who’d just pulled up with baby Harry and some party supplies in tow.

“This is exciting,” Celeste said, kissing Leo’s cheek as she took off her coat to reveal her classic Wonder Woman costume underneath. “We’re finally the ones visiting you three.”

“Oui, we’ll see if Logan’s gotten any neater since his time under our roof,” Pascal, who was decked out as Superman, added.

“A little,” Leo said, smiling as he thought about how Logan had started making his bed and throwing clothes into drawers whenever he knew the three of them would be sleeping in his room. “Not in hotels, though—it still looks like a hurricane blew through when we’re on roadies.”

“Hey Knutty, Tremz,” James said, pulling the mask on his Spider-Man costume over his head to give them the full effect and spreading his arms. “Awesome, right? We should theme these things every year. Whose idea was heroes and villains?”

“Finn’s,” Leo said before Lily came up behind them, Finn trailing a bit behind her with the bags. She looked spot-on in her Mary Jane costume, and had Harry—dressed as the only spider Leo could ever call cute—balanced on her hip.

“Oh, hello,” Lily said, raising her eyebrows before going in for a one-armed hug. “You’re putting us all to shame, Poison Ivy.”

“Right?!” Finn yelled from the top of the steps. Logan said it at the same time, shooting Leo a wink as he put Katie up on his shoulders. It warmed Leo’s chest like it did every time, and he suspected that would never change.

Over the next hour, more and more people showed up until the entire team was packed into Leo, Logan, and Finn’s place. By the time Leo was pouring himself a second cup of punch, the party was well and truly underway. The players and their families were eating, drinking, and chatting, complimenting and chirping each other’s costume choices in equal measure; tiny fingers grabbed fistfuls of candy from the bowls scattered throughout the living room, hallway, and kitchen; and orange and purple string lights cast a festive glow through the decorated house.

Thriller was playing through the sound system Finn had recently set up downstairs, and Leo watched on as James—Peter Parker’s Spider-Man—and Thomas—Miles Morales’s Spider-Man—tried to have a dance-off to decide whose costume was superior. (Tried being the operative word, as James’s list of talents did not include dancing.) Lily had her palm over her face, and Noelle, looking cute as Gwen Stacy, was laughing beside her.

It made Leo want to play the observer for another minute or two, to commit this night to memory. He made his way around the living room, sipping his drink as he went. He smiled as he caught sight of Kasey, appropriately dressed up as Mr. Freeze, and chatted with him for a couple of minutes before leaving him at the mercy of Natalie, grinning and tipsy and objectively stunning in her Catwoman suit. The only couple getting more handsy than them was Sirius and Remus. Sirius, ever the captain, had shown up as Captain America, and Remus had his arms wrapped around his back underneath the shield resting there as they kissed in the far corner of the room. Sirius pulled back to nose at Remus’s jaw and Remus laughed when he saw his face, swiping a hand across Sirius’s cheek. Leo realized Sirius was covered in smudges of black where Remus’s Winter Soldier eye makeup had rubbed off on his skin.

Heat trickled in Leo’s gut as he thought about what Logan and Finn would look like wearing that makeup—what they’d look like if Leo wore that makeup and made out with them in a dark corner, gray-black marks smeared over their cheeks, their mouths. He blinked and took a long drink from the plastic cup in his hand, shelving that distracting mental image even as he vowed to find a costume that required eyeliner for next year.

“Gross, isn’t it?” a voice beside him said. Leo turned to see Regulus, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head a bit at the lovebirds across the way. “Like, I’m happy for them and everything, but do they have to do this all the time? Don’t their lips ever go numb?”

Leo laughed and, noticing Regulus’s cup was empty, passed him his own half-full one with a look that said, here, you’ll need this. He didn’t have siblings, but he guessed just about everyone would feel how Regulus did when it came to their brother’s PDA. He’d noticed that Regulus seemed genuinely baffled by kissing and sex in general, though, and wondered not for the first time if Regulus experienced that kind of attraction. Now wasn’t the time to get into it, so Leo chirped him for his Loki costume instead, flicking one of the wings on his helmet. “Nice antennae.”

“Nice chest hair,” Regulus quipped back. “Did the zipper fall off that thing, or?”

Leo laughed loudly, which made Regulus laugh, and they passed the cup of punch back and forth for a few minutes, talking about hockey, travel schedules, the upcoming holidays. Eventually the Dumais kids found Regulus and started asking him to go, tugging on his cape and hoisting their pillowcases over their shoulders.

“Trick-or-treating duty,” Regulus said by way of explanation before herding (or being herded by) his charges out the front door. As Leo watched them leave, he caught sight of someone he didn’t recognize; a woman who looked maybe a few years older than him with dark skin and criss-crossing goddess braids that rested over the plates of her Valkyrie armor.

She walked over to another woman dressed as Captain Marvel, putting a hand on the small of her back as she talked to—Finn, Leo realized. Captain Marvel gave Finn a brief hug, and Finn said something that made both women laugh before heading into the kitchen. When they turned around, Leo recognized her as June. He’d known she was coming; Finn had suggested inviting her once they knew they were hosting, and Leo and Logan had agreed—Leo perhaps a little more readily than Logan. Leo understood that. He hadn’t had much time to feel anything other than confusion about June, but Logan had been wildly jealous—had been set up by her and Finn to be jealous—and it was clear the thought of her still rankled him slightly.

June and her—friend?—found Logan in the crowd, and Leo raised his eyebrows, taking a few steps toward that side of the room to head off any potential awkwardness, but decided to see how it played out first.

“Hey, Nutter Butter,” Finn said as he came up behind him, tilting his head to press a kiss to the side of Leo’s neck. He pressed a fresh drink into Leo’s hand before following Leo’s gaze across the room. “Uh oh. You think he’s okay over there?”

Leo hummed an affirmative, kissing Finn’s mouth briefly. “I think so,” he said. “I can jump in if things get tense. I think he’s fine, though, Harz.”

And it did seem that way; Logan definitely looked awkward, his smile somewhat forced, but then June said something to him that loosened him up and pulled a small, real grin out of him. Finn let out a breath Leo guessed he’d been holding, and he rested his head against Leo’s for a moment, temple to temple.

“I’m glad,” he said, stepping back to look at Leo. “I wouldn’t bring her around if you guys weren’t completely, 100-percent good with it, but I’m glad you are.” He paused, looking at Leo questioningly.

“I am,” Leo confirmed. “You should ask Logan again later, but I’m sure he’ll say the same thing.”

Finn nodded, taking an absentminded sip of his drink. A shadow of something flickered across his face, and Leo put a hand on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing small circles against the soft skin behind his ear. “He forgives you for all that,” Leo murmured. “You know he does. Don’t keep punishing yourself, sweetheart.”

Finn whined at the endearment, tilting his head back into the touch before shaking his head as if to clear it. “Why you gotta be so cute when you read my mind, Honeynut?” he said with a grin that compelled Leo to kiss him again. “Okay, so. June’s here, and she’s cool, and her girlfriend is cool, too, and I’m happy.”

Girlfriend, Leo thought. That answered that question. He let his free hand brush Finn’s hair back and kissed his forehead just above his Robin mask. “I’m happy, too,” he said. He was warm from the drinks, from his costume, from Finn’s body heat. Warm from Logan’s laugh traveling across the room. Warm from the happiness that filled his chest, so much fuller than Leo’d ever imagined it could be. “Love you, Fish.”

Warm from the brightness of Finn’s smile. “Love you, too.”

~

Logan was feeling good. He was a few rum and cokes in, maybe a little tipsy, and smiling as he caught up with Celeste and Pascal. He still saw them all the time, but it was different now that he wasn’t living with them, and he was glad to have a chance to spend that extra time with them—particularly Celeste, since there was always time during practice and travel to talk to Dumo.

He was grabbing a snack from a nearby table—he didn’t want to get too drunk, not before Leo could make good on his promise from earlier—when a “Hi, Logan” made him look up.

June. June and someone he didn’t know, both of them looking at him and smiling expectantly.

While he was fine with June coming—he knew she and Finn had stayed friends, and he trusted Finn completely—he’d sort of been hoping to avoid running into her after the impression he made at Christmas, at family skate. They hadn’t been his finest moments, and he still felt flickers of jealousy over her, though it was somewhat removed from him now, more like an echo.

“Hey, June,” Logan said with a nod and thin smile. “Nice costume. Yours, too, uh…”

“Amalia,” June said, gesturing to the woman in the Valkyrie costume as she extended her hand to Logan. “My girlfriend. ‘Malia, this is Finn’s boyfriend.”

“Ah, the famous Logan,” Amalia said with a warm smile and a firm handshake. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Part of Logan’s mind was stuck on girlfriend, but he gave a small, awkward laugh, looking nervously between them. “Famous? That doesn’t sound too good.”

“Oh, no,” Amalia said with a reassuring wave of her hand. “I just meant, I’m finally meeting the guy Finn talks to June about nonstop. Well, one of the guys.”

June hummed in agreement through a sip of her own drink. From this close, Logan could smell the boozy mix—mostly tequila, maybe some lime, too—and a hazy memory of him, Finn, and Leo doing body shots off each other after last season’s finals win swam briefly through his mind. “We’ll have to find Leo later and say hi,” June said to Amalia before looking back at Logan. “Thanks for inviting us. This is the most fun I’ve had on Halloween since...probably ever.”

“Same,” Logan said. “And yeah, no problem.”

June hesitated for a second, then seemed to make up her mind as she added, “And sorry for, you know. All the times we’ve met before now.”

That, combined with the sight of June’s free hand resting against the small of Amalia’s back in the almost-unconscious way Finn always did with him, pulled a real smile out of Logan, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Those were definitely less fun,” he said. “But it’s okay. It’s all good now.”

June’s smile was open and genuine as she said, “Yeah, seems that way, doesn’t it? It all worked out.” Her gaze was nothing short of adoring as she looked at Amalia, both of them grinning at each other as Amalia sipped her drink. “Still, I felt like I should apologize. The whole ‘going to family skate with Finn’ thing was mostly my idea. I thought, you know, this dude needs a fire lit under his ass! He needs to get a little jealous! But I’m pretty sure all it did was make you both miserable.”

“You were right, though,” Logan said before he could stop himself. He hadn’t planned on spilling his guts to his boyfriend’s ex tonight. Maybe the rum had loosened him up a little more than he’d thought, or maybe he was starting to like June despite himself, but he decided he could afford to let his guard down just a bit. “I did need a fire under me. It took a couple more matches, but eventually I woke up.”

June pursed her lips against a smile, giving Logan’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “I’m glad you did,” she said. “I can tell how happy Finn is. He’s crazy about you guys.”

Logan’s eyes searched the crowded room until they landed on Finn, beautiful and ridiculous in his Robin costume with his mouth trailing kisses up Leo’s neck and jaw, pulling a dimpled smile out of Leo. He wondered if he’d ever be able to look across a room at them and not be blown away by his love, by his own wild luck.

“I’m crazy about them,” he murmured half to himself, rubbing the heel of his hand absently over his full heart.

~

Later, Logan was sidestepping spiderwebs and skeletons to make his way to his bedroom. The house was quiet and still, the last few guests having poured themselves into taxis about twenty minutes ago, and he was dying to get out of his snug, overly warm costume and crawl under the covers with his boys. Just as he was unclipping the utility belt to slide it off his hips, he heard the bedroom door swing open a little further and the click of Finn’s black boots as he walked up behind him.

“Hey, don’t take that off yet,” Finn said lowly, arms snaking around Logan’s waist as he pressed his chest against Logan’s back. Logan sighed as Finn kissed the nape of his neck with a slow tenderness. He let his head fall forward to give Finn better access, closing his eyes and letting everything fall away that wasn’t Finn’s body solid against his, Finn’s mouth hot on his skin.

“I’m sweating in this thing,” Logan complained, but made no move to pull away from Finn or take off the costume. He changed tactics, turning in Finn’s arms to kiss him properly. “What, you don’t want me naked?”

“No, I do, I do,” Finn said, letting his hands trail up Logan’s abs and chest to rest on his shoulders. He did that a few more times, running his hands over Logan’s body as though to make sure he was really standing there. There was something in his expression Logan couldn’t quite read.

“Quoi?”

Finn stilled as he turned his brown eyes up to Logan’s, looking at him in a way that made Logan feel like he was naked already, all of him exposed for Finn to see. It used to be scary, being on the receiving end of that look from him, but Logan saw Finn now, too. Really saw him. “I’m just thinking,” Finn said like he was choosing his words carefully, “About all the things I wanted the last time I saw you in this costume. Everything I wanted to say to you, do to you.”

Logan’s heart ached at that. “Finn,” he started, frowning.

Finn held up a hand. “No,” he said gently, smiling. “It’s okay. I just meant...I loved you then, even when I’d barely known you three months. And I love you more now. So...leave it on? Just for a minute.” His hands found Logan’s hips, thumb circling precisely over the fleur-de-lis tattoo hiding under the material of the costume. That he could find it without even glancing down sent heat spiking through Logan’s body, and he splayed his own hands across Finn’s back underneath his red vest. Finn leaned in to kiss him, but before he closed the distance, he whispered, “Let me do all those things I thought about for so long.”

Unable to wait another second, Logan pitched forward, crashing their mouths together. They kissed until their lips were swollen and bitten-red, hands roaming and feet stumbling backwards until Finn’s back collided with the dresser drawers by the bed. Seeing an opportunity, Logan wrapped his arms around Finn more securely, lifted him off the ground and sat him on top of the dresser in one smooth motion.

When he pulled back, Finn just smiled at him bewilderedly, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Fuck,” Finn said, huffing out a breathless laugh as he blinked at the ceiling.

The cheap costume fabric was doing nothing to hide the outline of Finn’s hardening cock, and Logan his lip as he eyed it, palming his own dick briefly. The dynamic between them was always shifting depending on the mood, but Logan didn’t usually throw Finn onto pieces of furniture. Judging by Finn’s reaction, he was thinking he should do it more often. “Yeah? Tu aimes ça?” Logan asked, lips against Finn’s neck.

Finn had heard that phrase enough times to know its meaning. “Uh, yeah,” he said like it was obvious. “That was fucking hot, Lo. Didn’t know you could lift me that easy.”

“I bench more than you weigh,” Logan chirped back even as he kissed a trail over Finn’s collarbone.

Finn was still for a moment, and Logan thought maybe he was just having too good a time to respond, but then he sprung into action, hopping off the dresser and hauling Logan into his arms. A startled laugh burst out of Logan as Finn walked them over to the bed and threw him onto it, his back bouncing as he hit the mattress.

Their laughter slid into moans as they wrestled playfully for control, pressing each other down with their body weight and getting more and more distracted by their sloppy, heated kisses. Logan let himself be bracketed by Finn’s arms and legs, pinned by a pair of brown eyes that no longer had any trace of sadness in them. Logan reached behind Finn’s head to pull the tie of his mask free, tossing the fabric aside. Then he did the same with his own mask.

“Want to see all of you, mon rouge,” Logan said, stroking a thumb across Finn’s freckled cheek.

Finn leaned into it, smiling like there was nowhere else he’d rather be, and kissed him again.

~

They were tangled up in each other like that, touching and kissing and slowly rocking their hips against each other, when footsteps approached from down the hall, stopping beside the bed.

“I was gonna suggest we take a shower first, but…” Leo trailed off, eyes trailing over them both. “This is good. This is really good.”

“Hey, baby,” Finn smiled as Leo knelt on the bedspread, one hand going to tangle in Logan’s hair and the other pressed to the center of Finn’s back. He and Leo met each other in a kiss, and Leo hummed as he felt Logan’s hand creeping up his thigh to tease at his still-soft cock, obscured by the layers of his costume.

“Leo,” Logan said, sounding so genuinely delighted by his presence that Leo momentarily forgot about all the sex he wanted to have and just smiled at him, heart flipping in his chest. He bent over to kiss him soundly. “Logan,” he said back, smiling widely. “I promised you hours, didn’t I?”

“Oui,” Logan nodded, squeezing the swell of muscle above Leo’s knee. “Time for plenty of showers.”

Leo laughed, then turned his head as he felt Finn cradle his jaw. “Those fucking dimples,” Finn mumbled half to himself, “Kill me every time.”

Leo let Finn kiss him for a few heady moments, just feeling the two of them, feeling out the mood. He pulled back to look at their position, Finn on top of Logan and Leo knelt beside them both, and suddenly knew what he wanted.

“Take the rest of his costume off, Fish,” Leo murmured. He brushed a hand over Finn’s still-clothed cock and felt him twitch, heard his shaky inhale. “Then yours. Show him how hard he’s making you.”

It was a little bit of a gamble; though this side of Leo had come out more than a few times by now with Logan, he hadn’t yet tried giving orders to Finn in bed. He knew Finn liked to top, to be in control and throw himself into making his partners feel good—he knew that was what made Finn feel good—but he didn’t intend to boss Finn around quite the same way as he might with Logan.

“Would you like that, Tremz?” Leo added, brushing a thumb across Logan’s lips. Logan nodded, groaning. He kissed the pad of Leo’s thumb, green eyes darting between the two of them.

Seeing how much Logan was already into it made Finn’s eyes go wide and dark, and he hurried to get Logan naked as quickly as possible. Leo smiled to himself as he unzipped his own costume, happy his instincts seemed to have been right.

When the last scraps of fabric were on the floor, nothing but miles of bare skin between them, Leo stretched out on his side next to Logan, who was looking up at Finn walking himself forward on his knees. Finn straddled him again, closing a hand around Logan’s cock. Logan moaned and rolled his hips and fuck, Leo could watch Finn bring him off like that and be perfectly content, but he had other plans.

He wrapped a hand around his own dick, which was filling fast, and looked at Logan’s flushed face on the pillow beside him. Logan kissed him fiercely, like he hadn’t had the chance in weeks, and Leo moaned into his mouth, twitching in his own hand. He bit Logan’s bottom lip gently, then less gently, and Logan made a pleased sound, chasing Leo’s mouth as he pulled away.

Leo ran his knuckles down Logan’s cheek, overcome with fondness for this boy who’d had thicker walls than anyone Leo had ever met and was now so quick to show affection, to lay his heart bare in front of them. After a moment, he recovered himself enough to remember his plan and said in the steadiest voice he could manage, “Shhh, sweetheart. I know what you want. You want to suck Finn’s cock. You want to have him in your mouth. Right?”

“Oh, fuck. Oui, yes,” Logan said. Leo heard Finn swear under his breath, too, and he knew he had them. He looked at Finn. “Go on, Harzy. Give him what he wants.”

Finn shifted to plant his knees on either side of Logan’s head as Logan propped himself up on the pillows. He paused to catch Leo’s mouth in a bruising kiss before gripping himself at the base and slowly inching into Logan’s mouth, careful not to choke him. Logan couldn’t take Finn as deeply in this position, but that didn’t seem to matter; Logan groaned loudly, fingers digging into Finn’s thighs, and Leo’s heart stuttered in his chest as he saw Finn’s expression. He looked wrecked, his red hair a riot and a deep, rosy flush working its way down his face and neck.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing. Then Leo pushed himself up to kneel behind Finn, kissing and biting at his neck and shoulders. He steadied Finn’s hips with his hands, then pushed them forward slightly, causing his cock to slide further into Logan’s mouth.

“Knutty,” Finn gasped, reaching around to give Leo’s ass a squeeze. “Holy shit.”

“That’s it,” Leo said, starting to build up a rhythm until he was gently rocking Finn in and out of Logan. He kept one hand on Finn’s hip, guiding, while he reached the other behind himself to take Logan’s dripping cock in his hand. “Just like this. He loves it, Finn. He’s so hard, leaking all over himself. I can feel it.”

Logan was practically writhing beneath them, hands in a white-knuckled grip on Leo and Finn’s thighs as Finn fed him his cock and Leo jerked him off. The position was awkward, and Leo knew he wouldn’t be able to stay there long, but he kept it up until the muscles in his arm started to protest the angle. He shifted backwards until he could lower himself between Logan’s legs, licking a stripe up his length. Logan cried out around Finn, and Finn looked over his shoulder to see what Leo was doing, biting his lip around a groan.

“Wanna make him come like this?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow as he smiled at Finn.

Finn, who had stilled as he turned his attention to Leo, nodded quickly. “Only if I can make you come next,” he said, flashing a grin that sent heat spiking through Leo. Logan pinched Finn’s ass, startling an “ow!” out of him.

“Allez,” Logan urged after pulling his mouth off Finn’s cock. His voice was already shot, and Leo had to give his own heavy cock a squeeze at the sound.

Finn smiled down at Logan, touching his leaking tip to Logan’s swollen, spit-slicked lips. Logan opened his mouth immediately, teasing the head the way he knew drove Finn wild every time, and they fell back into their rhythm, Logan taking Finn as far as he could manage. Leo’s focus turned to Logan’s cock, thick and tempting in his fist. He took him into his mouth and lost himself in it, rocking his hips absently against the mattress to take the edge off his own need.

Their onslaught of attention soon proved too much, and Logan’s legs started to tremble beneath Leo’s hands. Leo upped his pace, bobbing on Logan’s cock until Logan cried out around Finn, his whole body tensing as he started to spill down Leo’s throat.

“Fuck yes,” Finn said shakily as Leo worked him through it. He and Logan locked eyes as Logan rode out his orgasm, his rhythm on Finn’s cock faltering. “So good, Lo, baby. That’s it. Come for us.”

Logan eventually stilled, sinking back against the bed as his softening cock slipped out of Leo’s mouth. Leo pressed a gentle kiss to his tip before sitting up on his knees toward the foot of the bed. Finn pulled back, too, cock red and shining as he stretched out on top of Logan to kiss and nuzzle him. Leo knew Finn loved this part; sharing in the hazy bliss of his partners’ afterglow, regardless of whether he’d come yet himself. Leo loved Finn’s punch-drunk smile, loved how close Logan was holding him.

He was surprised when Finn suddenly turned around and leapt at him, catching him around the waist. They were kneeling chest to chest, Logan watching them with a lazy grin from where he’d curled up on his side. Finn brought his hands up to cradle Leo’s face, looking at him like he’d just invented sex, and Leo loved that, too.

“Your turn,” Finn said, his smile playful and warm.

“It’s not gonna take much,” Leo said, hissing as Finn pressed closer, bringing their cocks together. “Fuck, Finn.”

Finn wrapped a hand around both of them, giving a few experimental strokes. He quirked a brow at Leo, a question in his eyes. Leo, who in all honesty was halfway there already, nodded quickly, gripping Finn’s biceps. “Yeah, like this,” he breathed, urging him on with a rock of his hips.

It only took a few dozen strokes for Leo to get there, calling out his boyfriends’ names as Finn stayed with him through it, not letting up until Leo was twitching and sensitive.

Leo brought a hand up to Finn’s face, breathless and reverent as he held Finn’s gaze. “I love you,” he said softly before kissing him.

Finn kissed him back, smiling. “Love you so much, nutter butter.”

Leo shifted and Finn gasped, and he looked down to see Finn’s cock still achingly hard between them. “Sweetheart,” he said, reaching down to wrap a hand around him. “How do you want it?”

“Sur mon visage.” Logan murmured it, practically a purr, and Leo’s spent cock gave a valiant twitch at the image.

“Oh god,” Leo said with a groan.

“What?” Finn asked, looking back and forth between them. “What’s that mean?”

“He wants you to come on him,” Leo translated, eyes on Logan as he said it. “On his face.”

“Oh god,” Finn echoed. He kissed Leo once more before getting into a good position, his knees on either side of Logan’s chest. Logan rolled onto his back and looked up at him, licking his lips in a way that made Finn groan and grip himself tightly.

Leo stretched out on his side next to them as Finn started to bring himself off. It was mesmerizing to watch, and Leo had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before they were all ready to go again. Leo reached over to stroke the swell of Finn’s ass, feeling the tension coiled under his skin. Finn’s face was screwed up in pleasure, his fist a blur on his cock.

“Open your eyes, Finn,” Leo heard himself say. He was so lost in the moment that he hardly knew what he was saying anymore. “He wants you to see how good he looks when you come all over him.”

“Holy fuck,” Finn said tightly, blinking his eyes open to look at Leo, then Logan, whose own eyes flickered from Finn’s face to his cock. “Lo, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Allez, Finn, allez,” Logan breathed. He curled his hands around the backs of Finn’s knees, urging him on. Then he opened his mouth, pushing his tongue over his bottom lip obscenely, and that was it; Finn came with a shout, painting thick stripes across Logan’s face.

Finn came for what felt like ages, and then the three of them collapsed in a sweaty heap, limbs tangled together as they caught their breaths and came down from their shared high. When Finn came back to himself and rolled off the bed to head toward the bathroom, Leo didn’t fight him on it. He let Finn clean the mess off Logan’s face with gentle strokes, and hummed as Logan shuffled closer to kiss him while Finn swiped the towel over their stomachs and between their legs.

“That was so good,” Logan sighed against Leo’s lips. “Love you, peanut.”

Leo kissed his nose. “Love you, Tremz.” Finn settled in on Logan’s other side, nuzzling into his thick brown hair, and the three of them stayed like that for a long few minutes, wound up in each other.

Leo was hovering on the edge of a doze when he heard Finn say, “Don’t think I forgot about earlier, Knutty. I fully plan to worship you all night as promised.”

With his eyes closed and his body warm and pleasantly weighed-down by the two of them, Leo smiled. “I’m in favor of that,” he said, letting the pull of sleep overtake him for the moment. It was Halloween night, and there was plenty of time left to send shivers up his boys’ spines.