#before anyone says anything about the drinking comment i think it’s vague enough to be interpreted several different ways

[cumikering]

Toxic Phillip Graves x reader

3.4k | angst, suggestive The commander with plenty of years ahead of you never saw you like you saw him, not even close

Next to the large window of the coffee shop, you sat with your book, sipping your latte that tasted closer to milk. Your cousin wasn’t a coffee drinker evidently.

“’Scuse me, miss. Would you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up at the owner of the smooth, southern voice. The man wore an easy smile – too easy, like he knew he looked good. Your eyes wandered past him, to the many empty tables before meeting his blue ones again.

“Sorry, I’m Phillip. I couldn’t help noticing your read.” He held out his copy of the exact same book. This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper.

You gave him a polite smile. “Go ahead.”

“Not my usual read, but it resonates with me.” He sat and placed his cup of tea on the table before cracking his book open where his steel bookmark lay. “He shouldn’t have led her on,” he commented.

“But her story wouldn’t have started otherwise.”

He smiled. “That’s true.”

Phillip ordered you another drink as you discussed your common interest in literature. Before you could finish the tea, the alarm on his phone went off.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you, miss, but I’ve got a plane to catch.” He placed his bookmark back in his copy.

It was then that you noticed the scar across his right cheek. Whatever caused it seemed like it had a full intention of ripping him off the Earth – like a personal vendetta, but divine intervention let it bolt past, catching the cuff of his ear instead.

“Would it be alright to call you sometime? Maybe we can meet again when I find myself in town.”

You put your number in his phone, not expecting anything to come out of it. Not from a chance meeting with a charming man more than a few years older than you.

But days later, Phillip asked if you’d finished the book. You spoke on the phone for half an hour, listening to his analysis of the characters. He was sharp, brilliant, eloquent. It showed that he was well-read and took pride in it.

He was initially vague about his job, saying he travelled a lot. You didn’t think it mattered at all what he did. He was an online friend who was into the same things as you were. A month later when he told you he was the CEO of a private military company, you weren’t surprised at all. It was plain in the way he carried himself, his poise and decisiveness. The way he filled a room to the brim even when he didn’t try to.

Over the months, he mailed you books to read and discuss once a week. Then twice, and thrice and the calls grew more frequent, longer, later. Quieter, deeper.

He became more than a name on your screen, more than a voice at the other end of the line at nightfall. Your conversations bled into the daylight. You felt less like a secret, more like a part of his life. Like an affirmation that, maybe, you were not the only one in the liminal space.

Thinking of you, sweetheart.

Always love hearing from my woman during the day.

Your man is having some good lunch. Wish you were here to share it with.

You make me feel like I may be close to some, but never close enough.

I’ll show you how much you mean to me when we meet again.

“You promise?” you asked one day.

“I make guarantees,” he affirmed without missing a beat. “I’ll have the last week of this month off.  Why don’t you fly here? I’ll take care of your flights and hotel.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve never done this before… Flown to meet anyone.”

“No pressure, darlin’. You mean a lot to me, you know that? Don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to.”

You booked your flights and hotel. You weren’t going to be a freeloader even that you knew it would have meant nothing to him judging by the suit he showed up at the airport in. You wanted to cry when you saw him and his boyish smile, carrying a large bouquet of roses and a sign of your name. You ran into his open arms.

“What are you doing dressed up like that?” you asked with a chuckle when you pulled away.

He kissed the top of your head. “Taking my darlin’ out on a dinner date.”

He helped with your suitcase to his grey SUV and waited for you to get ready in your room before taking you to a skyscraping French restaurant. Sat next to the floor-to-ceiling window, you couldn’t take your eyes off the view, the shadows of the city dainty against the gold seeping into deep purple.

“Gorgeous, huh?” He placed his hand on yours, making your turn to him. “I knew you’d like it. We can come back whenever you want.”

“I love it, Phil.” You beamed. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for my darlin’.” He took your hand to his lips before raising his champagne flute. “To us.”

You clinked yours against his.

At your door, he asked if he could kiss you. You nodded, not meeting his blue eyes as you bit down a smile. He called you when he was in bed, and when you both refused to hang up, you wondered what kept you from staying at his instead.

Phillip spent the next two days taking you around the city and walking you to your room at the end of the night with a kiss, which lasted longer each time.

Darling, I need to take care of something on base. Would it be fine if you’re on your own for the day? His text read the next morning.

Instead of brunch with him, you wondered around the city on your own, reveling in the tall buildings and how friendly the people were. With a sweet Southern drawl, the older women called you honey, darling and everything else Phillip had called you. It made you miss him more.

As you enjoyed your dinner, your phone buzzed with his call. It didn’t take him long to pull up at the restaurant and give you a peck in front of his SUV. You’d seen photos of him in his full gear, but seeing him in his combat uniform in real life made your cheeks heat up as you held onto his biceps. With vivid eyes and a smirk like that, he was dangerously handsome.

His touch seared when he pushed you against the wall of his entryway, fingers grasping your jaw, as he licked and nipped.

“You kiss better than last night,” he mumbled against you.

You paused at the comment, but he didn’t relent. He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands roamed. He carried you to his kitchen, setting you on the counter, icy against the backs of your thighs.

His mouth trailed down the side of your neck, sucking harder at the base than you’re used to, but it hurt so good. You shuddered as a small gasp escaped you. He pulled away with a satisfied smile before setting you down on your feet, turning to open his French door fridge.

You took in his kitchen, All-black, with spotless marble countertops and seamless cabinets.

“What would you like, darlin’?”

“J- Just water, please.”

You were breathless with your cheeks warm when he led you to his living room which looked equally as lavish with the large TV in front of his plush leather couch. When he pulled you onto his lap, you let out a small squeak, making him chuckle.

“You’re always so adorable.” He kissed your cheek.

He put on some football on as he held you close, his hot, wide palm on your mid-thigh, exposed from him pushing your dress up. Every so often, he’d give it a squeeze as he sipped his beer, making your breath hitch.

“Darlin’, it’s getting late. Let’s get you back.” He patted your thigh. “Unless you want to stay? You can pick any room you want.”

He gave you a quick tour of his place, and you picked the room next to his. He gave you toiletries and his clothes for the night, and told you to come to his room when you were ready for bed. You opened his door to him on his bed in sweats, a book on his lap. He motioned for you to sit next to him, and you did, leaning onto his bare chest. You read with him, his arm around you, thumb rubbing your arm occasionally.

“Phil?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I just- Well-“ Confidence eluded you as fast as it graced and your heart raced. “Nevermind.”

He laid his book down and turned towards you. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

You felt small having to ask, embarrassed that it was even something that bothered you. But when you looked into his eyes, welcoming with that warm smile, you thought maybe it was alright. It was Phillip after all.

“I wanted to know… What are we?”

He kissed your forehead. “Whatever you want us to be. I’d love to be your man if you let me.”

You smiled, relieved as you nodded.

“Anything for my woman.”

Phillip wasn’t in his room when you woke in his bed the following morning. You figured he was in his office, and he was, with the door open.

He looked up from his computer with a smile. He’d put a t-shirt on, his light brown hair tousled now. You noted he didn’t have his usual cup of coffee with him.

“Good morning, darlin’. Sorry I didn’t mean to leave the bed so early, but I’ve got reports to send.”

“That’s okay.”

“I hope you slept well. Feel free to use the kitchen. I’ll join you when I’m done in a bit.”

You went to his kitchen, the counters lustrous in the morning light. Next to the fridge, something glinted. It was a bottle cap of his favourite beer from the night before, a foreign brand you’d never seen. You put the cap into your sweats pocket - a keepsake of your first visit to his. You made coffee for the both of you, and when you were scouring the cabinets for some sugar-

“Sorry, sweetheart, who are you?”

You gasped, turning to the kitchen entrance where the voice came from. It was a middle-aged woman, carrying grocery bags. She blinked, her smile polite but confused.

“Uhh, Phil?” You looked straight at her with wide eyes, at a loss for words.

“What is it, darlin’?” he replied from a distance.

“Phillip Graves?” the woman called out, voice thundering.

In a second, he rounded the corner.

“Mum. Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.” He took the bags from her hands, placing them on the counter before giving her a hug. “This, uh- this is a friend.” He gestured to you.

“Hi, Mrs. Graves.”

“Good morning, sugar.” She nodded at you, her eyes warmer as she unpacked the bags. “I stopped by to drop off some fruits. I was at the farmer’s market.” Her eyes flicked to you, a playful smile on her lips. “He never has anything in his house other than beer, does he?”

You let out a small laugh, and he had an amused smile as he shook his head.

“I’m still in the middle of something. I’ll finish up real quick.” He left again.

“He’s married to his job,” she commented as she opened the fridge, stocking it with the colourful produce she brought.

“Um, do you know where the sugar is by any chance?”

She turned to you and glanced at the two mugs on the counter. “If he hasn’t had his coffee yet by now, that’s probably because he’s out of sugar.” She smiled. “And you know how much of a sweet-tooth he is.”

You did.

She continued lining the fridge with apples. “He really does run on coffee. He never learnt to cook, that boy. Lucky he’s got you taking care of him.”

Your heart swelled. Did he tell her about you already?

“All done now,” she said, closing the fridge. “Tell him I say bye, will you?”

“Okay.”

She gave you a squeeze and pinched your cheek. “I’ll see you again soon, sugar.”

You beamed as you walked her to the door. She didn’t hate you, and it made you irrationally happy.

“Phil?” You stood at the door to his office. “Your mom just left, told me to tell you bye.”

He beckoned you to come in, and he pulled you to sit on his lap, his hand squeezing your thigh.

“You know why I said you’re a friend, don’t you? I promise I’ll tell her soon.” He gave you an easy smile. “It’s like introducing vegetables to a kid. You gotta do it in small doses.”

“That’s okay, I understand.“ It didn’t bother you seeing how warm she was towards you. Still, you held on to his words.

“Okay, I’m almost done now. I’ll drive you to your hotel to get ready and we’ll go out for lunch.”

As well as the day went, you went ahead of yourself, like you often did when things felt too good. It dawned on you this was a little dream, a fleeting paradise in your ordinary life. Like a ticking bomb, it was going to detonate into a million pieces, and you’ll wake up with nothing but little mice, a pumpkin, a tattered dress and the sweetest memory.

The demon lingered in the backroom of your mind, pounding relentlessly at the door, begging to be set free. You felt like you’d gone too deep, like you shouldn’t even have started with all this.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm, darlin’?” Phillip asked when you entered his house, tossing his keys into the entryway bowl.

You couldn’t even fake a smile.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He rubbed your arms and led you to the couch.

He turned your body to him, but you couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t drown the riot in your head.

“Please. If it’s my fault, let me fix it.”

“How is this going to work?” Your eyes flicked to his, continuing in a smaller voice. “We don’t live close at all.”

“Got me worried there,” he exhaled, pulling you to his chest. “You can move here, of course.”

“It’s not that easy, is it?”

“I know it’s not. If I’m honest, I don’t have an answer for that yet.” He sighed as he caressed your hair. Silence lingered before he continued, “You know what my drill sergeant used to say? You can’t fly when you keep worrying about falling out of the sky.”

“You told me.” A smile flickered on your lips.

“We’re just a two-hour flight away from each other. As long as you still want this, don’t think too much of what’s going to come. It will work itself out.” He tilted your face to him by the chin. “We’ll work it all out.”

Perhaps he was right. You just needed to focus on what’s right in front of you. When you asked if you could extend your stay for a few more days, he gave you a peck on the lips.

He held you wordlessly for a long time until he got a call for an emergency meeting. He told you not to wait up if he wasn’t done in an hour. You hadn’t planned on staying the night, but you still had your toiletries from the other day. You got ready for bed and rescheduled your return flight, extending the timer on the proverbial bomb, even just for two more days. You wanted to float in this dream a little longer.

It was past 2 in the morning when your door creaked open. You turned, the dim light from the hallway bleeding into the dark.

“Why are you still up?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“I should ask you the same thing.”

He turned the bedside lamp on and sat on the bed, holding your hand.

“I’ve been thinking. You’re really special to me, darlin’. I want to work this out. I promise we’ll find a way, okay?”

You choked out a sob. His words like balm to your burning chest. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re so emotional. It’s adorable.” He let out a small laugh as he stroked your back. “I love you.”

When your tears stopped flowing, he laid you down, caging you between his forearms as he kissed you. Your arm wrapped around his neck, a hand cupping his lightly stubbled jaw. You fell into the kiss, into the sensation of his perfect lips. His hand wandered, pinching, squeezing, rubbing, his lips unrelenting, ever intensifying.

You squirmed under him. “Phil, that’s- you’re being a bit rough.”

He pulled away. “My ex liked it this way.”

You appreciated his passion, but the comment didn’t sit right. He stilled for a second before lying beside you in silence. You didn’t know how long you lay there, but in the dark, your eyes blinked open at the click of the door.

Your heart drained, hollow, hanging by a thread like it was going to float away out of your gaping chest any second. What you thought was going to be a comforting night turned unkind, instead leaving you feeling less than. You let out an uneven breath, pulling the comforter closer around you, willing it to drown the ache.

The next morning, Phillip was quiet, not even meeting your eyes as he told you to get ready. It was jarring, when for days it was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off you, but that day felt like he didn’t even want you anywhere near him.

Perhaps he had a lot in mind, maybe something about his meeting the night before – you knew it happened sometimes, but this time, the stillness made you nervous. Rejected, unwanted, out of place. Something was brutally wrong and it hung heavy in the air, it made you hard to breathe.

He finally broke the silence when he pulled up at the hotel lobby. “This isn’t working out.”

You turned to him, not believing your ears. “What?”

“This is a mistake,” he declared.

“But… Last night, we just- You said you loved me.“

“Why are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s not.”

The harsh tone sent chills down your spine. He’d never used that voice on you.

“I thought you liked sex, sweetheart. Why’d you wear those cute outfits otherwise?” His smirk turned to a frown. “Also, you laugh too loud. It’s off putting.”

You froze in your seat, like you wanted to scream but your voice a prisoner in your throat. Your stomach churned, bitter, singeing.

“You didn’t think this was real, did you? Don’t worry, it’s not like I don’t want to see you again. We’ll get coffee when I visit, okay?”

Your lips quivered as you blinked your tears away, but you were not going to let yourself cry.

“Oh, come on! Don’t start crying now. You’re making me look like the bad guy.” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

Was he not? When he told you all those things, some of the kindest words anyone had ever said to you. When the gold he gave you was brass at heart.

“Fuck you, Graves.” You got out of the car, slamming the door shut. Your tears stained your cheeks as you walked away.

It was the last time you saw or heard from him until two months later.

Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m attached now. We’re visiting next month. Want to meet up?

You regretted not blocking his number. You wiped away the tear that slipped.

Three years later, the universe sprinkled chaos and stirred its pot. You met another Phillip. Your cousin asked if it was the Graves variety. You said no, with a smile brighter than you ever remembered smiling.

This one held your hand and brought you home to meet his mum. This one didn’t bring up his exes when you didn’t ask. This one laughed harder when you cackled.

This one didn’t have to lie about his intentions, because a few years later, his promise of forever came without you even having to ask.

Thanks @shadofireshinobi for making me write this <3

@tiredmetalenthusiast @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

[callsign-fox]

The Set Up - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Written with @fanficgirl429​ <3

Prompt: Phoenix sets you up on a blind date with the one person you don’t want to be set up with. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / Mentions of sex / Fingering 

Thank you @imjess-themess, @a-reader-and-a-writer and @wildbornsiren for reading this over!

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

Y/N checked over her appearance in the rearview mirror as her best friend Natasha’s voice echoed through her car's speaker. 

“I know you are probably freaking out right now, but you just need to be your usual, charming self tonight. You haven’t been on a date in months, maybe you’ll even get laid!” 

“Who exactly did you set me up with that you think I’m going to get them to bed?” Y/N said, surprised at her friend’s confidence.

Natasha laughed, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Y/N shook her head as she stepped out of her car and walked toward the entrance of the Deep End Bar & Grill. She straightened out her dress and put her phone to her ear after switching off Bluetooth. “Nat, I’m walking in now. How exactly is this guy going to know who I am if you haven't told us anything about each other?” 

“I told him you would be sitting at the bar and wearing a red dress.” 

“Alright, I’ll call you after and let you know how it went. Wish me luck!” 

Natasha wished her friend luck before hanging up the phone. Y/N glanced around the dimly lit restaurant, looking for a stranger that fit the vague description Nat had given her. When she didn’t notice anyone, she made her way toward the bar to order a drink. 

As she sipped her drink, she continued to casually glance around the bar, waiting for her mystery date to show up. A few people could have fit the description, but when they went and joined other parties she soon realized they weren’t the ones. Shortly after that, a familiar figure walked into the bar. He reached up and pulled his aviator sunglasses from his face and glanced around, his eyes landing on Y/N. He did a double take as he took in her appearance. It was then that they both realized what exactly Nat had done. 

Bradley Bradshaw walked around the bar to where Y/N was seated and stared at her, his expression blank.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Y/N mumbled, warranting an eye roll from Bradley. 

He shook his head and waved the bartender over. “Shot of whiskey, please.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and finished off her rum and coke. “And I’ll take another.”

Bradley pulled the bar stool out beside Y/N and sat down. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and placed his credit card on the counter. “Get her a shot of whiskey too.” 

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Bradshaw?” Y/N teased, turning to face him. 

“The only way we are going to survive this ‘date’ is if we're both drunk, so we might as well start off strong.”

When the bartender placed their shots in front of them, Y/N grabbed hers off the counter and threw it back. The bitter taste made her gag but she did her best not to show Bradley. 

“Nat has to be playing a joke on us,” Y/N said. “You didn’t tell her about…that night, did you?” 

Bradley’s eyes went wide. “No one knows about that night except for me and you,” he whispered, glancing around to see if anyone overheard their conversation. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “If anyone should be ashamed, it should be me, not you.” 

He ignored her and waved at the bartender indicating he was ready for another shot. 

“Why would she set us up? She knows that I can’t stand you,” Y/N commented. 

Bradley laughed, “Because it’s Phoenix.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “What do you say we set our differences aside and just try to have a good time?” 

“Keep buying me alcohol and you have a deal.”

A few drinks later and Y/N was laughing at Bradley’s bad jokes as she took another shot of whiskey. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Y/N asked him, and he nodded. “What did you tell all the guys in our class about me?”

Bradley laughed. “How do you know I said something?” 

“Hangman mentioned that you told him and the other guys not to go near me, but he wouldn't tell me why.” 

He leaned into her. “I may or may not have told them you were fucking Admiral Cole.” 

My eyes widened and his head snapped back with laughter. “Admiral Cole is seventy years old, Bradley! Why the hell did you tell them that? No wonder I couldn’t get any of them to come home with me.” 

“For starters, I thought you were a cocky little shit and you annoyed the hell out of me.” Y/N shoved him. “I also wanted to fuck you so I made sure nobody else tried to.” 

Y/N was taken aback by his bluntness. “You wanted to fuck me?” she asked, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Yea,” he answered, his eyes locking with hers. “And I did…a few times in one night actually.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Bradley lightly grazed her thigh with his hand before pulling it away and smiling. “You act as if you didn’t want me too.” 

“I didn’t.” She leaned into him, placing her hand on his thigh. “But tell me…when you did fuck me, was it exactly how you thought it would be?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked. 

“It was better.”

Bradley placed his hand on hers and moved it further up his thigh until the palm of her hand was pressed against his erection. Her core grew warm as she remembered the feeling of him inside her.

Neither of them broke eye contact, sitting there quietly staring at one another until Bradley finally spoke up. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

Y/N didn't hesitate. “Yes.” 

He placed some cash down on the bar and grabbed her hand, practically pulling her out of the bar stool. The two of them walked quickly out of the bar, Bradley’s hand running over the soft fabric of her dress. 

Bradley’s truck was at the back of the parking lot, practically hidden from sight. Once they reached his truck he swiftly spun her around and pressed her up against the door. 

“You have no idea all the things I'm going to do to you,” Bradley whispered, his lips brushing over her ear before making contact with her neck. His fingers ran up her leg before dipping underneath her dress and pushing her underwear to the side.    

Y/N smiled as his fingers brushed against her core. “What are you waiting for, nobody can see us.” 

His lips connected with hers, kissing her roughly, as his fingers moved along her core, rubbing against her sensitive spot. She let out a moan as she felt herself melt at his closeness. This was only the second time he had been intimate with her, but it was like he knew exactly how she liked to be touched. 

Bradley pressed his knee in between her legs and pushed them apart as he inserted two fingers. She let out a gasp as he began to move his fingers, his thumb rubbing against her clit. Her eyes closed as she let the sensation take over her body. Bradley continued the motion, moving his fingers faster each time.

“Does that feel good?” 

A moan escaped from Y/N’s lips as she felt her walls clenching around his fingers. She felt her whole body aching with pleasure from the feeling of them pumping in and out of her, the movement pushing her closer, and closer to the edge. 

Y/N nipped at Bradley’s lip which only encouraged him to go faster. All at once, she felt her high approach as he shoved a third finger inside her. He worked her through her orgasm, his thumb moving slowly over her clit. 

Bradley smiled down at her as he gently removed his broad fingers. “So, my place or yours?” 

“For the record, I still don’t like you,” Y/N whispered, pulling his fingers to her mouth and licking them clean.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like you either.”

Masterlist

[cowgurrrl]

BWFW

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: You and Joel call a truce [3.8k]

Author’s note: dude I’m having so much fun writing this (PS this song is named after BWFW by Blunt Chunks)

Warnings: smoking (don’t smoke kids (drunk cigs don’t count)), Joel being an asshole momentarily, spicy thoughts (no smut), enemies to ???

Joel Miller Caught Kissing Actress After Date: Everything We Know About Her

Hollywood's Newest Power Couple?

Joel Miller Has A New Boo, And We're All A Bit Jealous

Who is Joel Miller's Newest Girl? Everything Their Waitress Told Us About Their Secret Romantic Date

Pictures of you and Joel making out against your front door are everywhere. You can barely log onto Instagram without being bombarded with DM's, comments, and tags in news articles about you two. Melanie even texted you with several headlines attached and a "Great job, kid!" Even your mom texted you about it. Granted, it was a screenshot of a Buzzfeed post, and all she sent you was a bunch of question marks, but she texted you. You try to put it out of your mind by leaving your phone in your trailer when you go to set instead of handing it off to a PA.

You decide that Joel Miller isn't worth more brain power than absolutely necessary. He has his own life, and you doubt he's thinking about you, and if he is, it's probably plotting his next reputation-saving move. The only thing you can do is work, make the best movie possible, and move on with your life until he summons you for another contractually obligated date. It's only a few months. You can make it, right?

You were asking the director about a scene, script in hand, when Ryan strolled up to you with a mischievous look. You ignore him and listen to Greta give you notes and ideas for the next movie sequence. He waits for you to be done with the conversation, like a third grader, before grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him. 

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing Joel Miller?" He asks, and you laugh. He walks you to a more secluded part of set, hiding from eavesdropping extras and chatty interns as they set the sound stage for the next scene. 

"It didn't seem relevant to work."

"Not relevant? This is huge," he says, somehow more excited about this than you are, and you cross your arms over your chest. "You haven't dated at all since you made it big."

"Okay, that's not true."

"Really? Before last night, when was the last time you went on a date with anyone? Famous or not?" He asks. You open your mouth to answer, but your brain short circuits as you search through your memories. You're ninety percent sure that your last date was with the guy you had a showmance with before you moved to California. He was tall, handsome, and full of himself just like every other actor. You vaguely remember telling him you booked your first movie with A24, and he said you didn't have the "right look" for A24. Last you heard, he was living with five other roommates in the Meatpacking District back in New York.

"Okay, so maybe it's been a while," you admit, and he raises his eyebrows at you. "Please, don't make this a thing. I've already had enough people clawing at me for answers about it, and I'm exhausted."

"Fine, fine, but you have to promise you'll go out for drinks with me and Carolina on Friday. She's been dying to make couple friends, and I need to make sure he's good for you." 

"You don't need to do anything, but sure. I'll talk to him and see what he thinks." You say, and he smiles. Before he can grill you any further, your names are called over the intercom, announcing that they're ready for you, and you silently thank whatever god is out there for getting you out of that situation. You and Ryan walk back to the sound stage and get flanked by people from makeup who need to touch you up and frantic ADs who repeat the same notes the director already gave you. You swear if their heads weren't attached to their necks, they'd run around looking for them at all hours.

You do several takes of the same scene, yet another scene of your characters arguing, this time about what they'll do now that your character is pregnant. Ryan progressively gets more despondent as he sinks into his character, frustrating you as his scene partner and the pregnant woman you're playing. After about two hours of running the same scene over and over again, you're at your wit's end and need to do something different. Everyone on set freezes when you shove at Ryan's shoulders and force him to look you in the eyes for the first time since you started filming. The entire scene shifts as you continue to push at him, tears unexpectedly falling from your eyes as you beg him to say something. It hurts more when he walks out the door without looking back. When Greta cuts, Ryan all but runs back in the door and wraps you in a big hug.

"You're gonna break my heart if you keep doing that!" He says, and you laugh as you wipe away your tears. You watch the scene back together, and jump up and down at how much better it flows. It feels like you're watching magic. Times like this remind you why you became an actor in the first place. 

You film a few more scenes before breaking for the night. Your body hurts from carrying so much emotion as you walk into your trailer to gather your things to go home. You barely grazed the door, dinner plans already filling your head, when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. It's a text from an unsaved number, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out who it's from. 

The lipstick on the collar was a nice touch, he writes, and you sigh. 

That almost sounds like a compliment, Miller, you shoot back.

You're not even halfway to your car when your phone buzzes with another text from Joel.

Paul is really happy with how everything's going. He said he wants us to see each other again before I go back to Texas.

Good timing because my costar practically begged me to go on a double date with him and his wife.

We're already in double-date territory? How official.

Har har. How's Friday night sound?

Sounds like Paul is going to be very happy.

That makes one of us.

The rest of the week flies by with you dodging the online chatter about you and Joel somewhat successfully, but Ryan keeps reminding you how excited he is to hang out with you and your new "boy toy," as he has affectionately nicknamed Joel. You hate it, but he thinks it's funnier that way, so he just keeps calling him that. You swear Ryan was your annoying older brother in another life. 

You're curling your hair when he texts you a cute picture of him and his wife in the car with the message, "Ready to interrogate JM." You laugh and return to messing with your hair, mentally going through every possibility that tonight could bring. You're wearing a pink tank top and jeans with pink heels. Nothing super fancy, but it's definitely more dressed down than your first date with Joel. You debate on which necklace to wear and wrap the final piece of hair around your curling iron when your front door opens.

Joel calls your name as he shuts the door behind him. You almost throw the hot iron down as you step into the hallway to face him. He's wearing a black shirt with a matching black leather jacket and jeans. He looks you up and down unapologetically, and you roll your eyes.

"Who told you you could just walk into my house?" You ask as you duck into the bathroom again. He leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you spray your hair to help it withstand the California heat.

"Hello to you too, darlin'." 

"Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to."

"So, what can I call you?" He asks with a smirk pulling on his lips. You grab your bag off the counter and move to leave the bathroom, but he doesn't budge. You huff as you look up at him.

"Move."

"Answer the question." He says. You think about pushing him out of the way, but he's broad and has those strong guitarist arms and probably wouldn't even flinch. You copy his stance as you rack your brain for an acceptable answer.

"Well, you could start with just my name," you say, and he laughs. "But other than that, I don't know."

"Baby?" He suggests, and you almost gag.

"Absolutely not."

"Which do you hate more? Darlin' or baby?"

"Baby."

"Alright, then, darlin'," he says, stepping out of your way. You scoff and walk past him into the hallway. "You know, you really should get a dog or somethin'. It's not safe for you to just leave your door unlocked like that."

"Oh, with all the psychos running around my neighborhood? I can handle myself but thank you for your input." You say, and he laughs as you do one last sweep of your living room to make sure you didn't forget anything. Once again, Joel opens your front door and the passenger side door of his car for you. You can say many things about Joel Miller, but one thing you can't say is that he's not a gentleman. You think it has something to do with his Texas upbringing, or it might just be a testament to the kind of woman his mother is. You don't say anything the whole way to the restaurant, saving up your mental energy to deal with him for the whole night, and he doesn't fight you on it.

When you get there, you can see Ryan waiting near the host stand through the windows, obviously ready to escort you and Joel to the table. You're surprised that the sidewalk isn't flanked by photographers, but you take it as a good sign. Joel parks the car and reaches for your hand as he locks it. You almost smack it away before remembering you're in public and take it in yours. The smooth ring on his middle finger is cool and smooth, a stark contrast to his calloused palms. Ryan lights up when you two step through the doors, and he quickly wraps you in a warm hug. He introduces himself to Joel and holds his hand out for a handshake which Joel reciprocates. 

When he walks you to the table set for four, Carolina smiles and stands to hug you and Joel in true Carolina fashion. Joel doesn't hesitate to pat her back and smile as Ryan jokes about having two of the prettiest women in the restaurant sitting at his table.

"Sorry, I'm a hugger," Carolina says as you sit across from them. Joel lays an arm across the back of your chair like this is a perfectly normal thing he does all the time.

"That's alright, ma'am. I don't mind." He says, and Carolina gives you a look.

"Ma'am? I like him already." She says, and you laugh. 

Joel settles into the dynamic between the three of you easily and listens as Ryan tells stories from set and press events. It's no small feat that you let Joel meet two of the most important people in your life, and even though you didn't tell him to be, he's on his best behavior. He doesn't try to annoy you or do anything inappropriate in front of them. He compliments Carolina, calling her ma'am even after she told him he didn't have to, and exchanges dude-bro stories with Ryan all night. Except for the arm on your chair, he doesn't make any affectionate moves which you're grateful for. 

With Ryan and Carolina there, it almost feels normal. It could also be your third glass of wine helping you relax too. Ryan makes a snarky comment about your drinking, to which you flip him off. "I'd be drinking too if I had to work with you all week!" Carolina says. Ryan feigns a blow to the chest, and she smacks his shoulder. "Did he tell you that Elizabeth started calling you Ryan's movie wife?" She asks, and you laugh.

"God, I hope she doesn't repeat that at school. Otherwise, you," you point at Ryan. "Are going to have a lot to explain to that poor teacher."

"Who's Elizabeth?" Joel asks as you take a bite of food. You hum to let him know you'll answer in a second, but Carolina beats you to it.

"Elizabeth is our daughter."

"And my goddaughter," you jump in. "She's the best kid in the world."

"Well, of course, you think that because you're not there for bedtime," Ryan says, and you roll your eyes.

"You're just mad because she's as stubborn as you are."

"That is... not entirely untrue." 

You spend the rest of the dinner laughing and messing with each other. You even catch yourself leaning into Joel's side because he's so warm and comfortable, and the wine is making you deliriously happy. When the bill is placed on the table, you all fight over who gets to pay until Carolina chucks Ryan's card at the waiter. Joel holds his hand over the table, and Ryan shakes it in a form of masculine affection. "You really didn't have to do that, man," Joel says. "Next dinner is on me, alright?" He could be saying it to save face, but the idea that Joel likes Ryan and Carolina makes something in your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

Ryan practically carries Carolina to the car so they can relinquish the nanny for the night, but you and Joel go upstairs to the rooftop bar. You reason that it's high enough to hide from paparazzi, and you also needed an excuse to get some fresh air. You both order water and perch on a couch in the corner. At first, you don't say anything. Not because you're mad at him but because you're worried you'll ruin the night if you do. However, you don't need to exchange words for Joel to see you shivering and put his jacket over your shoulders. You smile and turn to look at him.

"This is the second time you've given me your jacket."

"Want me to stop?" He asks, genuinely curious, and you shake your head. A soft smile takes over his features, and you have to look away before you get sucked in. 

"What'd you think of Ryan and Carolina?" You ask as you take a sip of water. His arm rests behind you again, and he adjusts to get more comfortable.

"I really liked 'em. They seem like good people."

"They are. Ryan and I were friends before I even moved to LA," you say. "I think they liked you too."

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod. You meet his eyes again and hope he can see your sincerity.

"Yeah. Thanks for not being a total dick to them." You say, and he laughs. He puts his water on the table in front of you before reaching across you to dig into his jacket pocket. This close, you can smell the detergent he washed his shirt with and see the freckles faintly littering his skin. He doesn't break eye contact with you as he pulls a pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter out of his jacket before relaxing into his spot again. Maybe it's the wine in your system or the joy from the night still filtering through your skull, but you don't take your eyes off him as he lights a cigarette. The ember glows brighter as he takes a drag and turns away from you to exhale. His jawline is sharp, and his neck looks especially pretty as he takes a breath.

"What're you thinkin' bout, pretty girl?" He asks, breaking your train of thought, and you smirk as you lean forward. His eyes drop to the neckline of your tank top, giving you the perfect opportunity to snatch the cigarette out of his hand and put it to your lips. He watches as you take a drag, your lipstick staining the filter, and exhale with a sigh.

"Thinking bout you."

"Me?" He raises his eyebrows as you pass him the cigarette back. His thumb traces your lipstick stain before he puts it back in his mouth. "What about me?"

"About how stupid this whole situation is," you gesture vaguely around you. "About how we really shouldn't be so mean to each other." 

"You're a sentimental drunk," he says, passing you the cigarette without acknowledging it, and you smile. It really wouldn't be that hard to pull another cigarette out of his pack for you, but he doesn't. Your fingers graze his as you take it, flicking the ash to the side. He waits until you blow smoke out of your nose to mess with the sleeves of his shirt and nod. "But, maybe you're right."

"Oh, say it again." You say, and he gives you a look. You pass the cigarette back even though about half of it is burned down from you two sharing it. His long drags don't help salvage it.

"I really shouldn't have said what I said bout you sleepin' with people to get famous. That was really fucked up, and I'm sorry." 

"It was really fucked up. And unoriginal. And fucking stupid. And completely untrue," you say, and he looks a little worried. "But, thank you for apologizing." He nods and offers you the last little bit of glowing cigarette. 

"Can we call a truce?" 

"A truce?"

"Yeah. We'll stop goin' out of our way to make each other's life fuckin' miserable and move on. Maybe at the end of this, we could even be friends." He says, and you take a deep breath as you take the cigarette from him. 

"You always make peace agreements with nicotine?" 

"You're my first, pretty girl."

There's that fucking nickname again. It's better than darling, and you should hate it, but the way he says it makes your head swim. You inhale the last drag and stub it out in the ashtray next to your water as you try to get your thoughts under control again. You catch the bartender looking over at you and Joel, and an uneasy feeling crawls up your spine. You swallow it down and look at Joel.

"I'll agree to a truce." You say, smoke leaving your mouth as you talk, and he smiles. 

"Should we shake on it?" He asks. You glance between him and the bartender and scoot closer to him. His eyes flick from yours to your lips and back up to your eyes.

"I would say yes," you whisper. "But, I think that bartender figured out who we are."

"So, what should we do instead?" He asks, his voice so low that you almost miss it over your own heartbeat. You want to roll your eyes at how stupid his question is but kiss him instead. His hands come up to your jaw, and you wrap your hand around his wrist to keep him there. There are traces of nicotine and tequila on his lips, but you can't focus on it too hard before his teeth graze your bottom lip. He swallows your gasp and soothes the sudden pain with his tongue. You would push him away and yell at him if it didn't feel so good. You can’t help but wonder what his mouth would feel like on your neck or your thighs. You wonder what pretty girl would sound like in between pants and broken moans. You wonder if he’d leave bruises on your inner thighs for you to find in the morning. The thoughts startle you out of the moment, and you pull away from him, turning to kiss the inside of his wrist. 

"'M getting tired. Can you take me home?" You ask. He looks like a kicked puppy but nods anyway. He holds your hand the whole way down the stairs, through the restaurant, and to the car. You make shitty small talk the whole way back to your house like nothing happened, but you're grateful to have moved past the suffocating uncomfortable silence. He taps on his steering wheel again and changes the station when his own song comes on the radio, making you laugh. When he pulls into your driveway, you linger for a moment and look at him through the darkness. "Thank you for being so nice to my friends." 

"I really did like 'em," he says. You pick at your nailbeds as you try to find a way to apologize for abruptly ending the evening. You feel bad for some reason. You were actually having a good time together, and then you made it weird. "Can I walk you to your door?" He asks, and you take a deep breath.

"I think I can get myself inside. Thank you, though."

"Welcome." He says as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. Joel's jacket shifts around you, and you suddenly remember that you're still wearing it.

"Oh, here. Let me give you your jacket back before I forget."

"Don't worry about it." He waves you off, and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

"What do you mean don't worry about it? I'm not gonna steal your jacket, Joel."

"You're not stealin' it. You're just borrowin' it, right? I bet tabloids will eat it up if they see you wearin' it," he says. "Besides, it looks better on you anyways." You laugh and shake your head as you adjust your purse on your shoulder. 

"Goodnight, Joel."

"G'night, pretty girl." He says. You shut the door and walk up the sidewalk to your front door, secretly cursing that stupid fucking nickname and how weak in the knees it makes you. His car lingers in the driveway until he sees you unlock the door and flicker the front lights at him, letting him know you got in safely. He honks twice before pulling away and driving off into the night.

You make a point to lock your door behind you and lean against it. You let out a shaky breath like it will expel his voice from your head and jump when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. When you pull it out, a bright text from Melanie stares back at you.

Two dates in a row?! You're killing it! This will be over before you know it <3

And attached to her scarily cheerful text is a picture of you and Joel kissing. It's blurry and obviously taken from far away, but it's there nonetheless. You pinch the bridge of your nose and send her a thumbs-up emoji before sending Ryan a "made it home" text and turning your phone off. The image of Joel's teeth scraping your bottom lip burns into your eyelids as you close your eyes and try to figure out where the fuck you go from here. 

[low-keygee]

i am once again here to offer things about the thing 1982.

probably gonna be shorter bc i’m at work and don’t have much for this but i just needed it out of my brain.

at the very end of the movie when macready and childs are leant up against the barrels, they both share the sentiment of how tired they both are from the cold, the final showdown, the everything. i feel like macready letting on just how tired he is to childs was something of a last word, to let his vulnerabilities show.

in macready’s background he was a pilot in the vietnam war which was meant to explain why he was awake when the dogs were being attacked and why he tells the group after having been locked out that he’s a “real light sleeper”. so he obviously isn’t afraid to acknowledge what the war has done to him in that regard. but the end of the movie, plus this next scene show a bit of humanity for him.

when the drunken macready is recording the cassette for someone to find if/when they have been taken over/die/what have you. he talks about how the storm has been constant for two days and the long johns windows finds until he releases a small bit of what he’s feeling to the cassette.

“nobody.. nobody trusts anybody now. and we’re all very tired.”

he plays the tape back and starts speaking into it again, indicating he tapes over that line before saying “there’s nothing else i can do”.

macready’s insomnia really does seem to be a weak point for him. as much as everyone is aware of his poor sleeping habits, he doesn’t seem to want to admit just how tired he is. how powerless he feels in that regard.

in the defibrillator scene a while afterwards childs antagonizes mac with sleep (“you’re gonna have to sleep sometime macready”) which is where we get “i’m a real light sleeper” which then leads into a vague threat that mac never finishes (“and if anyone tries to wake me…”) which may mean the line prior is just meant to be taken more metaphoric (i think is the right word) than literal. like if childs tries to stir the outpost into taking out mac, mac will then do his dot dot dot.

then (i believe) the last mention is at the very end of the movie.

mac can hardly speak loud enough for childs to hear, his voice doesn’t hold the same command it has throughout the movie. he’s very much leaning against the barrels for support and is out of breath. he’s freezing, running on likely zero hours of sleep, after having faced off with the thing and sprinting out of the outpost before it blows. and he admits to childs as they both sit in the snow, knowing death will come soon for them both whether it be at the hands of the cold or the man before him, that he’s tired.

“if we’ve got any surprises for each other, i don’t think we’re in much shape to do anything about it”

“well.. what do we do?”

“why don’t we just.. wait here a little while. see what happens.”

mac finally lets on how tired he really is and lets himself sit and share a drink with childs before he dies in the snow.

i think his military past is important to talk about in this context as well. he was likely either taught or learned not to let on any weakness as a soldier as it would only earn him a knife in the back (hehe clark reference) and after leaving both the military and his previous job as a helicopter pilot to work at the outpost all he knew to do for his pain was to drown it in booze. he left to work at a research station where all he had to worry about was the weather and staying sober enough to take the chopper up. don’t think about macready being a war vet wanting peace of mind at a quiet research outpost in antarctica don’t think about it.

there’s been a few theories that childs was a thing and macready was testing him with a malatov cocktail but i think that they both died as men, and macready was able to rest knowing he’d served his outpost well.

idk if this was anything or if i’m reading too deep into mac’s 3 comments about sleep but his moment with the cassette and at the very end with childs always makes me so so sad and i needed to say the words out loud bc i heard a song that reminded me of mac 🫶

[altheasmeadow]

Secret Secret

Pairing: Lee Know X reader

Summary: In which she’s embarrassed of her secret disability, and tries to run away from getting attached

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, pills, disability, a lot of physical pain, mental trauma.

Her life had been a struggle that much she was sure of, growing up without much support from her family was hard enough, she didn't need the next chapter in her life to bite her in the ass as well.

She made her life. That was the only way to say it, she made herself. Starting with working part time jobs to raise money to train in dancing, she became famous for her choreographies. People around the world are reaching out for her help.

July 8th 2019 changed her life, for the worst of course. A car wreck with a couple of her friends, she hadn't been drinking that night but her friends were, they tugged the steering wheel to make a joke but it ended way worse than anyone intended.

She could no longer dance, she lost hope in it after her doctor said it would be nearly impossible. But with more and more condescending comments from her parents, she made it happen, leading her to where she is now.

"Boys, this is new your coach. Just for an extra set of eyes." Park said as he introduced the small duel-colored haired woman to the 8 men, one of which recognized her from somewhere a lot more personal than the others who only knew of her name from seeing her choreographies.

"Hey I'm Chan this is Changbin and Han we're the producers, that's Seungmin and Jeongin they're the main vocals, and that's Felix, Lee Know, and Hyunjin they're the main dancers." Chan introduced reaching his hand out to shake her hand.

"Nice to meet you all, I'm sure it'll be a pleasure working with you." She said with a minuscule smile trying to offer reassurance but it came out as more of a grimace.

—

"So what exactly are you trained in?" Han wondered, having noticed the way she moved a bit more gracefully than your average person, he knew she at least knew ballet.

"Ballet, contemporary, silks, pole, hip hop, tap, mainly but I dabble in others." She shrugged nonchalantly and everyone kind of let that settle for a moment.

"Do you know anything about making music?" Chan wondered curiously.

"I took a couple courses when I took a year long hiatus from dancing." She vaguely answered, not giving much say on her hiatus, but it looked like Chan was piecing things together.

She felt a pulse of pain from where her prosthetic rubbed against the limb remnants so she subtly looked around for a chair, she couldn't find one that she could sit in subtly but it was okay she'd sit when she was done, the pain wasn't too bad at the moment.

"So you're going to help us in most aspects?" Changbin wondered not really understanding the gist of her job.

"Yea I'm just going to coach you on what you can improve. That's all I'm not here to force any decisions upon you." The statement caused everyone to have a slight sigh in relief.

The group spent the next couple of hours going over a couple of moves to their new song, She was simply giving a few new ideas to the choreography making even Lee Know like it, he usually didn't like people stepping over his toes, but over the course of the few hours the woman had made it very clear she wasn't going to overstep just offer what she can to the table.

"I think we should head home." Changbin sighed, noting the time, he was hungry so he wanted to get home quickly.

"Okay I'm going to stay here a bit longer so I can look over the notes." She offered in response still not sending much of a smile to the boys.

"I'm gonna stay and go over the track a few times." Chan added earning nods from his friends who walked out to go to their separate dorms.

She sighed, wishing Chan had gone with them so she could take her prosthetic off and massage the pain away before having to walk back home. Instead she settled for sitting on the floor and keeping as still as possible until Chan decided he was done.

Only that didn't happen, he sat with his laptop in front of him playing the track but she saw him occasionally glance at her in concern.

"Are you okay..?" He asked after a few moments, causing her to look at him confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You keep shifting your leg like you're uncomfortable with it." He shrugged casually as if it was nothing new so she assumed he was unaware of why she was actually uncomfortable.

"Yea just a bit stiff from standing for so long." She brushed off with the flick of her wrist, picking the papers back up to note what they could work on.

"I can rub it for you if you'd like?" He prompted, simply being kind, she knew that. She also knew that his mother knew hers so if anyone was going to know about her issue it'd be him. So him prompting this made her suspicious.

"No it's fine." She covered her suspicions by avoiding eye contact and continuing to gnaw at her lip.

After a while Chan finally huffed in defeat and decided to leave, wishing her a good night and leaving.

She sighed in relief as she took off the sweaty material and used her lotion from her purse to massage the sore muscles, wincing in pain every-time she hit a knot.

She knew it was gonna be difficult but she wasn't prepared for this.

Avoiding Chan was difficult considering she was working with them for the time being, but avoiding the efforts of all of them trying to get closer to her made her feel drained at the end of each day. Felix had forced his way into her heart despite how much she pushed.

The boy observed her for the first week, noting the snacks and drinks she liked and bringing them for her, also anytime she sat down he'd take to putting his hands on her shoulders and slightly massaging the knots in her neck.

Now her distance wasn't saying she didn't pay attention to them, she had definitely noticed how well she would click with their group, she was also very well aware of how handsome she found the quiet one of the group.

Currently the woman was seated in between Felix's legs going over the movements that they had writing on paper for the maniac choreography, he was fidgeting with her hair which was super smooth despite the bleach she had used on it.

"So here I think we can add a transition." She noted pointing to the paper while the boys nodded along.

"Do you want to come to ours tonight? We were going to have a movie night." Jisung offered, giving her his puppy eyes he had given her the last 10 times he invited her to hang out with them, all of them did except Minho who looked like he understood her distance.

"I really can't."

"Why? Got a date?" Changbin teased as they all turned to lay on their stomachs and kick their feet behind them like teenage girls, except Felix and Lee Know of course.

"No date, just don't want to."

"Oh come on, are we really that bad?" Hyunjin pouted, also giving her puppy eyes.

"Yes."

"Liar! You have smiled in our presence more times than you've smiled around the building." Lee Know argued, making everyone tilt their heads at him. "What? I pay attention."

"Will you please come?" Felix asked softly, maneuvering his neck over her shoulder to make her look at his puppy eyes, Jeongin joining him knowing nobody can deny those two.

She hesitated, that was her mistake. The boys watched on with more excitement as she didn't reject it immediately after Felix asked.

"Okay..."

—

Wearing the comfiest clothes she owns, She made her way up to the boys dorm, which was on the upper floor of her complex, she of course wouldn't let them know that or they'd be trying to have her over all the time.

She wanted so badly to run and hide in her apartment, socializing had been the hardest part of life after the accident. She found it so hard to trust people, granted her ex friend was drunk out of their mind but it didn't cover up the fact that two of their friends passed away and they proceeded to try and blame it all on her saying she was the sober one she should've been more careful. She didn't trust anybody not to twist situations anymore, and her parents using her insecurities against her made her even more of a recluse, refusing to even see them.

Friends were something she didn't know anymore for years.

So seeing a beaming Felix waiting outside of their apartment for her, she wanted to cry. Nobody had ever been that excited to see her so casually, and she knew she didn't deserve to feel like she wasn't treasured. Even with half a leg she was as good as everyone else, however her parents berating her always echoed in her ears. Her brother was the only one to soothe them until he took off to the states.

"Hey!" Felix chirped, rushing to hug her, grabbing her purse from her.

"Actually can I keep that on me?" She asked nervously, not wanting anyone to accidentally see the pain meds she had to carry with her everywhere.

"Oh yea, sorry I just thought I'd help." He stammered a bit handing it back to her but she simply sent him a soft smile, which was rare so seeing Felix beam in pride at the notion didn't shock her one bit.

"You're okay Felix, I just have some medicine I have to take at a certain time. It's easier if it's on me." She shrugged carelessly, knowing he wouldn't be the one to question her deeply on the medicine.

Which she was right as the boy simply nodded and pulled her into the apartment, it was his, Seungmin, Jeongin, and Lee Know's, seeing as it was cleaner.

"Hey!" The boys cheered, happily inviting the woman into the home.

"What movie do you want to watch?" Han asked instinctively, a person's favorite movie can say a lot about a person.

"Um I'm really fine with anything, I'm just here for the snacks, I didn't feel like making dinner." She shrugged, reaching over to pop the pineapple cube from the tray into her mouth. Felix had made sure to get her favorite fruits to set out for her knowing she probably wouldn't eat much else.

"I can't believe you're eating fruit when popcorn exists." Seungmin rolled his eyes at the woman playfully but she just shrugged, nudging his thigh with her good foot.

"Because I like fruit. I'm fruity, what can I say?" She nonchalantly threw out making the boys look at her in wonder.

"I called it!" Changbin cheered, reaching to collect the money from his members.

"Wait wait no." Han argued, swatting the buff boy's hands away before turning back to the woman who was watching the scene in a bit of shock. "Are you lesbian?" Han asked bluntly, making her shake her head, this caused Changbin to huff and pout as the others grinned.

"Bisexual?" Hyunjin wondered earning a shake of the head

"Pansexual?" Felix asked this time earning a nod and most of the group groaned except Lee Know and Seungmin who grinned happily.

"Oh come on!" Chan groaned out though he said they shouldn't spectate her sexuality he did bet on her being straight.

She checked the time, noticing it was time to take her medicine, so she looked at Felix who tilted his head confused until he remembered, he grabbed her hand and led her to the kitchen, setting her up with a cup of water before heading back to the living room.

She took the medicine quickly, panicking when she heard footsteps approaching.

"You've been avoiding me." Chan blurted, crossing his arms as he stood in the archway.

"Maybe I just don't like you."

"That's not it, you were perfectly fine until I offered to help with your pain."

"It was minor discomfort."

"I know what you're really uncomfortable about, and I really wanted to wait for you to open up to me. But it really bothers me that you're so bothered by this."

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Guys come watch the movie!" Jisung yelled, making her push the older boy and walk back into the living room, hanging her bag up by the door. She got on the couch in between Hyungin and Felix who both automatically curled into her. Lee Know was sitting on the floor in front of her, head narrowly missing her thigh. Jisung and Changbin were both holding Seungmin and Jeongin hostage with cuddles while Chan sat and sulked.

It was a sweet night, however the conversation irked her, why was Chan so discouraged.

"5, 6, 7, 8" she counted out as the boys worked through the dance, she moved in front of the group, walking out the steps with them knowing they could get the blocking done later.

She needed them to learn this choreography and quickly, they still had a lot more work to do for this comeback.

Since the movie night, she had opened up a little more to the boys. Hyunjin and Felix now become her shadows, while Han kept acting like a little brother she never had, she semi got closer with Chan, as long as he disregarded her issues she'd be fine but he seemed very determined to unravel her secrets.

"Okay 5 minute break guys." She dismissed once they nailed that segment, walking over to her drink to take a sip.

Her eyes flickering to Lee Know who had also taken a sip leaving his lips wet and making them much more noticeable. As soon as she noticed his eyes beginning to shift in her direction she spun on her heel only to come face to face with Hyunjin who was smirking at her.

"I saw that." He said only for her to shake her head trying to be as casual as possible as she went on about not knowing what he was talking about.

"Mhmm." He hummed disbelievingly and passed her a towel to wipe her sweat with, though she hadn't sweat much from the workout, she usually sweat more from the pain in her limb, holding back the noises of discomfort seemed to take a lot more effort than she thought.

"So are you coming over for dinner tonight?" Felix chirped as he approached the two with Changbin by his side.

"Uh that was tonight?" She sputtered, remembering her call last night to the doctor to make the earliest appointment possible which happened to be tonight since there was a cancellation.

"Yea are you coming?"

"I can't." This was odd, she hadn't denied hanging out with them in a few weeks. So it obviously made Felix a bit nervous of her reverting back to a recluse.

"Oh come on! Lee Know is making your favorite." Hyunjin whined, earning a confused look from the woman.

"Why and how?"

"Felix slipped the beans, and we just wanted to do something nice for you with all the effort you're putting in." Lee Know said coming up behind her almost caused her to jump three feet in the air.

"Yah don't do that. And I can't have an appointment tonight as soon as I leave." She tried to brush off.

"Appointment, are you okay?" Felix wondered, almost making her groan in frustration.

"Yea just a routine check in."

"But we made these plans a week ago, you would've told us if you had something going on unless you set it up quickly in which case it has to be an emergency." Seungmin butted in as he also joined the conversation, Oh god she never felt more distressed than she did right then.

"Okay guys back off, her life is private." Chan stepped in, placing a hand on her arm tugging her gently away from the group.

She sighed heavily as she took a seat, not noticing the guilty looks the boys were now sending her after noticing they pushed too hard.

"It's for your leg, right?" Chan wondered quietly as he sat next to her, simply earning a defeated nod in return.

"You know nobody will judge you if you tell the truth." Chan tried to comfort but noticing her fingers pulling at her necklace made him re-evaluate the situation.

"I get that you're struggling, and I also know that you know I'm aware of what happened. I'm not subtle. I'm here to be your shoulder to cry on, or if you need someone by your side at appointments, whatever you need I'm here."Chan assured, making the woman huff a bit to refrain from laughing at his stupid dimple that appeared as he seemed proud of his words.

"We should get back to practice."

And there she was, shitting herself back up in her walls again.

She motioned everyone to get back to their places and worked through it a few more times before ending practice so she could get to her appointment. The fast goodbye made everyone feel a bit worse about the situation except Han and Jeongin who had been chasing each other around the room when it happened.

—

"It's definitely inflamed." The doctor sighed as they took in the irritation on the skin.

"That much I knew. How can I fix this quickly? Nobody I work with knows."

"I'm afraid you can't. You're going to need to leave the prosthetic off for a bit. I can reduce the fluids that build up but the irritation isn't going to go down without rest and space from the friction."

"Okay..."

—

"Wait so she's not coming in for a couple of days?" Felix asked in disbelief as he got the call from Chan, something wasn't right.

"She is going to take a few days to visit her family." Chan tried to cover but Felix scoffed.

"Try again, she hates her family."

"Okay she didn't tell me the reason, just that she needs a few days off."

"We made her that uncomfortable?" Felix took it personally, of course he did but Chan really couldn't save her from this one.

"Just talk to her when she gets back, I'm sure that's not it."

She felt awful, Felix and Hyunjin had been blowing her phone up with apologies trying to say they thought she was just trying to get out of hanging out with them again.

She dismissed the apologies saying they weren't necessary; she just had an emergency to deal with. Nobody believed her. Lee Know had even reached out and he wasn't one for texting much, so he called.

The two accidentally talked on the phone for a few hours, talking about their cats, dancing, cooking, anything they could think of except why she was missing work he didn't press.

Chan had stopped by one day after being at the studio all day to bring her the new prescription since she couldn't leave subtly, he had been a big help through the whole ordeal, though she still didn't let him run out of her soreness. That felt way too close. He understood.

He explained how they went to school together and he had admired her dancing from afar back in Australia, his mother had been the one to tell him about the accident. She ranted to him about how ignorant the Choi parents were, how she hated them so much because of how they treated their daughter. They didn't even show up to the hospital.

So the two sat going over the incident in the confined space of her home where she felt safe, where Chan listened intently and offered his respects for everything she had gone through. He was glad that she didn't blame herself for the deaths, that would've been worse, I mean everyone whispering in her ear about how it was her fault and she still stood tall and continued on with her life. He was proud of her despite only knowing her for a short time.

"I think you should consider telling the boys, I know it's hard but they're not going to judge you. Jeongin and Han will think it's badass, Changbin will probably just be curious, Felix and Hyunjin would probably just go into overprotective mode, Seungmin will probably not care in the slightest, not in a rude way just doesn't see the point in acknowledging things like that. And Lee Know will probably be impressed that you worked against the odds like that."

"I don't want it out, I know it's in the Australian news. That's why I left. I can't deal with the looks again."

"They're not going to see you any differently, I can tell you that much." He had said before leaving, knowing he pressed a limit she didn't enjoy pressure on.

—

She stood in front of JYP nervously when a body collided with hers making her bag and the contents in it fall to the ground.

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry!" Seungmin blurted, reaching down to help her grab her things only for her to try and send him away.

"No it's fine I got it go ahead." She tried dismissing, but his hands were already grabbing ahold of everything, freezing upon seeing the pain meds in his hands.

"This is some strong stuff." He commented before it was snatched out of his hand by the red faced woman.

"I got it." She said, grabbing the rest of her things and shoving them into her bag hurriedly.

It did not take long for the medicine story to spread through the group, all eight watching their choreographer concerned, but Chan had told them all that they needed to respect her privacy, by the end of the day, everyone was finally tired and headed him.

She laid on the ground tiredly, her leg sore from her movements, she took her prosthetic off gently and tried to rub her leg with massage oil, only to wince in pain every moment, so lost in her attempts she didn’t even notice Lee Know walk in, he kneeled beside her quietly and replaced her hands with his own.

“Oh-” Her startled exclamation was hushed by Lee Know simply shaking his head a bit, and quietly helping ease her pain.

Sitting in the silence felt like agony for her but Lee Know was never loud with his affection.

“I wondered why you were distant, we tried so hard to include you, I actually almost started to resent you because of you ignoring our efforts all of the time. Then you agreed, just to avoid us the next few days after hanging out, we were all so confused. But when Seungmin saw your medicine, it started to make sense, well kind of. We knew you were injured at least, I kind of figured you were embarrassed. Then I accidentally overhead Chan talking to you on the phone about the Australian news one day and I know it was an invasion of privacy but I had to know. It wasn’t your fault. I mean in the street photos they literally caught your friend tugging the wheel. The true story is out there, it might not be as popular as the other story but people do know. And I’m not going to let you do this alone anymore, I know Chan was helping but he has 6 other beings to worry about, not including himself. So I’m stepping up, okay? No more distancing yourself. We’re in this together.”

The warmth that surrounded her heart at that moment was almost unbearable, tears gathering in her eyes as she tried to understand the feeling. The complete and utter gratitude she felt to have someone by her side to finally not feel like she has to hide. She felt so many emotions including sorrow for the time she had lost feeling like a burden when she really was stronger than most. And Lee Know helped her see that.

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi everyone! I'm so glad everyone seems to be enjoying this fic as much as I have loved writing it!! Thanks so much for the comments and kudos!!

So if you've read any of my other works, you probably know I like to play fast and loose with the timelines of One Chicago! But in case you're a little confused, this fic is primarily set in the last episode of Season 3 PD and an au-ish Season 4 of Med (Only Ava is not crazy obsessed with Connor because I think that was a huge discredit to her character and Robert Haywood hasn't happened yet.)

On that note, my song recs for this chapter are All I know So Far by Pink which is what inspired Sarah's promise (You'll know it when you see it), and Paris by Taylor Swift.

Happy Reading!

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary:  Blue eyes flicked down to his lover asleep once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was not a doubt in his mind that he knew Sarah. At least where it counted. He knew what kind of person she was. He knew her heart. But he didn’t know the stories of what made her heart the way that he knew it.  

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sexual Content, Depictions of parental abandonment, vague depictions (at the moment but will go into more detail in later chapters) of violence.

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Hold On, I Still Want You Ch. 2

“Something you want to talk about?” Hank questioned later that night as he leaned against his kitchen counter with a beer in his hand. 

“Did Erin talk to you too?” The curly brunette asked and he shook his head. 

“Then what makes you say that?” Sarah asked as she continued to stir the ingredients in the ceramic bowl. Her pseudo-father shrugged before he took a swig of his drink. “A few things. The fact that something is going on because you asked if Erin talked to me. You were quiet throughout dinner-”

“I have a lot on my mind.” She cut him off as she turned and reached above the fridge where she knew Hank hid the good chocolate chips for her. The older man hummed. 

“-you didn’t really eat your fried eggplant and we’re about to have cake, but you’re in here making cookie dough. You only do that when you’re having guy troubles.” 

Sarah stopped stirring in the chocolate chips abruptly and looked down at her sweet treat. 

“You sure you don’t want to talk?” Hank asked in that gravelly voice of his. Though neither party knew it, Hank Voight always seemed to take on a softer tone of voice when he spoke to the woman he considered to be his youngest daughter. Slowly, Sarah shook her head avoiding his eyes. 

“Anyone, you want me to arrest?” He asked and Sarah saw through what he was trying to do. She gave him a small smile but it was half-hearted at best, for his attempt to try to make her feel better. 

“He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just bad luck is all,” the brunette kept it just vague enough, careful not to give away too much information. And it was true. It was bad luck that Connor was getting back together with Robin. Her bad luck, but Hank didn’t need to know that.

“Mhm,” he made the non-committal noise before asking, “You know what the scariest part of having kids is? You always worry about them. Even when they’re grown and moved out. Even the ones you feel like you never have to worry about. It’s like having four different hearts walking around outside of you and you want to protect them from the world.”

“Four? How’d you get four?” 

“Erin, Justin, Teddy, and you.”

But Sarah shook her head as if she was shaking away his words, “I’m not your kid though. Not really.”

“Kid,” her pseudo-father pinned her with a look, “You’ve been my kid since you I brought you three home for dinner that first time when you were eight. But Camille and I just didn’t know it then.” 

Not knowing what to say, how to refute his statement Sarah just looked back down at her cookie dough. 

“Sarah,” 

She looked back up at the man she had met at the age of eight. The man who not only showed up to take her to the hospital but also held her hand when she had to get fifteen stitches at the age of nine because her own father had been too strung out to even notice she was hurt, to begin with. 

The man who had taken her in and raised her since she was eleven. The same man that taught her how to drive, but still tried to make sure to drive her to and from work in the winter months, even though she was grown because he knew how anxious she got with driving in general but especially the Chicago snow and ice. (And if he wasn’t able to drive her, he made sure she had a ride) 

The man who told her, when she admitted why she wasn’t going to college, after she graduated two years early, even though she wanted to because she didn’t think her financial aid, and whatever scholarships she could get plus her part-time job at the library would be enough to cover tuition and she couldn’t take out any loans at sixteen because she wasn’t a legal adult yet. (And she wasn’t about to ask Erin, who at the time, still had two years left at the police academy.) That he would cover it-whatever financial aid and scholarships didn’t. 

“Don’t put the money you’re making with it though. Keep that money for yourself. Everyone deserves a little pocket money.” He had said and to this day, Sarah still didn’t know that he and Camille took out a second mortgage to help her. 

The man who answered the door at five in the morning, after the disaster of her first graveyard shift in her first year of residency. Who hugged her tightly and didn’t say a word after she said she just needed to come home for the day, after her shift. She just needed to feel that security again, like nothing bad was ever going to happen to her as long as Hank was around. 

He pinned her with a steady look, the same look calmed her when she thought she had been arrested and was going to juvie. (She hadn’t been. It had just been a ruse to fool Charlie and get her and Erin out of that house and situation) 

“You know I’m here if you ever need me,” she smiled softly at him, at his statement. Making her around the kitchen counter she wrapped an arm around his neck in a half-hug.

“Till the world blows up?” The brunette asked. He nodded, looking as solemn as he did the day he made the promise she was asking about. Erin got the promise of I’m with you till the all wheels come off and stop turning on this car. Her promise was Hank was here with her till the world blows up. 

“Till the world blows up.” The older man echoed. 

“Grandpa. Aunt Sarah,” Olive called, and they both turned to see her standing in the doorway with Baby Danny in her arms, “Danny says it’s time for cake.”

Sarah broke away from the embrace first, walking the short distance to where Olive stood; she took the baby and hugged him. In a baby voice, she asked, “Is it time for birthday cake, little monster?”

The small child giggled, pressing his face into her shoulder when she tickled him lightly on the arm. So she continued as she carried him back to the dining room, “Then let’s go get this little monster some birthday cake.”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Sorry I’m late,” Connor said, pressing a kiss to his sister’s cheek in apology and then offering a sheepish smile to Robin and her new husband whom he had only met the day before yesterday. “Surgery ran late because of a complication on a heart valve.”

And his mind had been in other places since Sarah had all but run away from him after her shift was over. He thought as he took his seat, picking up a menu. He could feel his sister’s eyes on him. 

“What?” He asked, looking over at her with his eyebrows raised. 

“You’re by yourself. I thought you said you were bringing the girl you’ve been seeing. That I would finally get to meet her?” Claire pestered him, reminding him of when they were kids and she’d tried to be nosy about his love life. Smirking slightly, Connor shook his head. 

Some things never changed.  

“I was. But Sarah had a family thing tonight.”  Though he was questioning if that was even really true, after what happened today. 

“Sarah? As in Sarah Reese? Dr. Reese from the hospital? That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?” Robin asked with a grin and when he nodded his head a little guilty, her grin broadened slowly. “Wow, I did not see that coming. You know I ran into her in the cafeteria during lunch today too.” 

Connor shrugged while he gave a slight chuckle, “Trust me, I didn’t see it coming either and I was there when it happened. But Sarah really surprised me.”

“I know that name. Why do I know that name?” Robin’s husband, Marcus asked and his wife explained, “Sarah Reese is one of my father’s residents and was the doctor that treated me when I had the tumor before we knew what we were dealing with.”

Then she turned to Connor, a teasing grin on her lips. 

“You thought bringing your new girlfriend to dinner with your old girlfriend was a good idea? You’re a brave man Connor Rhodes.” She asked jokingly, and oh. Connor hadn’t realized how the dinner invitation must’ve sounded to his lover until now. Now her reaction at the hospital was making a little bit more sense to him.

“I don’t know babe,” The other man laughed. He didn’t sound jealous or petty, how most guys probably would’ve been in his situation. Instead, he sounded amused as he said, “Probably as good as inviting your new husband out to dinner with your ex-boyfriend and his sister.”

“Touché,” she mumbled with heat rising to her cheeks. 

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“So you were in town last month, huh?” Sarah heard Hank from her spot in the kitchen. She was by the sink, finishing up the dishes and cleaning the rest of the kitchen while Olive and Erin put Danny down for the night upstairs. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I only had half a day or else I would’ve reached out. I had to help a friend.” She heard her best friend answer. There was a slight pause of stillness, but even from in the kitchen; she could hear the volumes in Hank’s silence. She had spent many times in that weighted silence when she had gotten in trouble as a kid. Someone clicked their tongue.

Her phone buzzed. (Connor again) But the brunette ignored it in favor of listening in on the conversation. Justin said, “Pop…Don’t. Just don’t. Please.”

 “So who’s this friend?” Hank questioned and Sarah shook her head. She could understand why, given Justin’s knack for finding trouble when he was younger. But this was why her pseudo-brother always had his hackles slightly raised. Hank was talking to his son like a cop and not like a father. 

“Come on, Pop. It’s my son’s birthday. I really don’t feel like being interrogated, okay?” There was a pause and now the Voight men were standing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the side of Hank’s face and the outline of Justin’s back. 

“And besides, none of us are kids anymore. You have four adult children now and it’s time you let us handle our business.”

“Is this still about you? Or are you talking about Sarah as well?” Hank asked and Sarah felt herself stiffen as he continued, “Because I know Erin’s good right now. She’s back on track, after her slip with Bunny a few months ago. And Sargent Benson of SVU in New York is keeping me informed about Teddy.”

“I heard you talking in the kitchen. Look, I know you’re curious about what’s going on with her. I get it okay, she’s the baby of the family. But you’ve got to let her figure this out on her own. I can promise you it’s nothing bad.  She’ll come to you when she’s ready. Remember she’s the one you never had to worry about for a reason.”

“I always worry. Hazards of being a father. Especially with your adult kids. You’ll learn when Danny’s older.” Hank said in a tone that was a mask of lightness but really was filled with frustration. A phone beeped and she heard her pseudo-father sigh a moment later. 

“I gotta go. Caught a case,” She heard him tell Justin before he called out to Erin that they had to go. Sarah waited until she heard the door click shut and then she made her way out to the living room.

She leaned against the archway that opened up the space between the kitchen and the living room. “Had to help a friend out?” 

“Not you too,” Justin turned to face her with a sigh on his lips, “You always did choose the worst times to be the annoying little sister.” 

“I’m just trying to figure out if I know this friend,” Sarah said lightly as she folded her arms. That was the wrong thing to say as her best friend’s face grew dark.

“Did Dad also ask you to ask that?” He snapped.  

The brunette blinked as she took an unconscious step back. “No, why are you asking that?” 

“So you want me to think that the timing of your question and my Dad’s interrogation just now is just a coincidence?” Justin also folded his arms, rolling his eyes at her. Sarah frowned, taking another step back. She wasn’t used to this Justin. Usually, her pseudo-brother was so patient and kind with her, even when they were kids. 

Hank and Camille were actually worried about how Justin would take it, no longer being an only child when he had been for thirteen years. From day one though, he welcomed her into their family and called her his sister to everyone that would listen. (He did the same with Erin. But Erin was older. Sarah seemed closer to his age being younger, despite having the same two-year age gap between him and Erin)

“I-I wasn’t trying to spy…I just... It was just a question to see if I knew the friend.” Sarah started to explain before she realized what she was doing and how ridiculous it sounded. Yes, Hank asked her to talk to Justin. But like all the other times her pseudo-father asked her to her best friend; that didn’t mean that she was going to tell him what was going on. Beyond of course: Yes there’s something going on and you need to talk to him about it. 

“You don’t and you need to drop it. I defended your privacy to my dad just a few minutes ago with your fuck buddy. So do me the same and stop trying to be Dad’s spy for once and let me handle my own shit.” Justin shut down her prying hard as he shook his head, his tone was cold.

“Okay, I heard you. I’m sorry I asked.” She shook her head as she turned away from him and gathered her stuff from where she had set it down earlier, “The kitchen is clean, so you and Olive shouldn’t have to do anything else.”

“Where are you going?”  

She ignored his question as she pushed past him to get to the door and instead told him: “Just so you know, I was never a spy for Hank. You just always had a bad poker face so he knew when you got into trouble.”

“Then how else did he know that I was in town last month? Because I didn’t tell Erin and I only talked to you that day.” 

“You said you went and saw Henry too. From the social club. Hank’s social club. Did you really think your Dad’s friends wouldn’t tell him that you dropped by?”

Justin deflated at her question. It was like his anger was a balloon and all the air had been let out. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sorry Sarah. But you know how much I hate when he assumes the worst…Now answer me. Where are you going? I thought you said you were staying in your old bedroom tonight.”

“Home to my apartment and letting you handle your own shit for once since you seem to think I’m a spy for your dad.” She tossed his words back at him in a steely voice. His anger may have deflated, but hers certainly hadn’t.

“Sarah, I said I’m sorry. Okay? Besides it’s late and-”

She shot her best friend down with a glare. “I want to go home, Justin.”

“Okay, fine…But you’re not taking the bus, train, or subway this late, I'll drive you.” He told her, moving to grab his keys. 

“No, you told me to let you handle your own shit. So let me handle mine. I’m more than capable of getting home by myself.” With those parting words, Sarah opened the front door and slammed it shut, making her way to the bus stop on the next block over.

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Hey Sarah, it’s me. About this afternoon. I think we got our wires crossed about what this dinner was supposed to be. But I want to have this conversation face-to-face instead of with your voicemail or over the phone. So call me back?” Connor ended the call and continued walking Claire to her car. 

“Trouble in paradise already? What? Do you have a six-month expiration date for relationships I don’t know about?” His little sister teased, “Because you and Robin only lasted six months before she moved to Minneapolis and I never even met Sam. But you two only lasted six months too.”

It was meant as a joke and Connor knew that, but he still couldn’t get the way Sarah had run out of the doctor’s lounge this afternoon. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. 

“I think she didn’t show up just because she had a family thing. I think she thought Robin and I were getting back together because I didn’t mention her husband. I just mentioned you and her.”

“And you invited her to what? Gloat? Ask to be in a throple?” 

Connor felt his eyebrows raise, “How do you know what a throple is? Wait, please don’t answer that.”

His sister laughed softly, grabbing at her brother’s arm as she made her way down a set of steps in heels. “But seriously, what would you gain from inviting your current girlfriend to watch you get back together with your ex-girlfriend? You’re not cruel as a rule Connor.” 

“I don’t think her past relationships have been all that good to her. Things I consider to be the bare minimum in a relationship. Like this, you walking on the inside of me down a busy sidewalk or street, she seems so genuinely surprised by.” Connor explained, rubbing the back of his neck, “…and there’s the small fact that I’ve never actually asked her to be in a relationship with me.” 

“Connor! I thought you said you had been dating this woman for the last six months!” His little sister admonished him while she turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“I have been. It’s just without a label but is that really such a big deal?” He asked. Claire scoffed, shaking her head, “I don’t know. Is her answer to ‘do you have a boyfriend’ being no such a big deal when you've been seeing her for the last six months? Because technically, without a label on it or you both agreeing to be exclusive, you both are still single.”

Jealousy flared in his stomach leaving him feeling hot even in the crisp autumn air at the thought of some random guy hitting on Sarah. Hell, he had a problem when he caught the lab tech she used to date, letting his eyes linger a little too long on her. Though Sarah reassured him that her relationship with Joey was history and he believed her; that didn’t mean the other man could just stare at Sarah like she was a piece of meat. (Only he was allowed to do that. With his lover’s permission of course.) 

His sister glanced up at him and nodded at his silence. “Exactly. You know, why don’t you just go to her apartment? Go to her instead of waiting for her to come to you.” 

Connor winced, “That’d be a good idea…only I wouldn’t know which apartment is hers. I only know the building.”

And he only knew that because Sarah’s car had decided to have a blown-out tire one morning last month, and it had been too late for her to catch the bus, after getting the vehicle to the tow shop. So she called him for help.

“Connor Jameson Rhodes!” Claire scolded him and he winced at the use of his full name. 

“In my defense-”

“There’s a defense for half-assing your relationship with this woman you claim to like and care for?”

“I’ve been scared, okay?” He finally snapped at his sister before he released a sigh and continued in a quieter voice, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not an excuse I know. At least not a great one. But after my relationship with Robin crashed and burned, I was scared because as you pointed out, my past relationships tend to have an expiration date of six months. So I’ve been trying to keep Sarah at arm's length because I was scared to give it my all because look how well that worked out last time. And when that didn’t work, I tried to keep her all to myself. You can’t let the world ruin something, if it doesn’t even know it exists in the first place.”

“But?”

“I was bringing her to meet you, wasn't I?” Connor deadpanned, “I was trying to move our relationship forward. But as you can tell it blew up in my face.”

“You need to talk to her.” His sister told him as they reached her car.

He nodded, opening the door for her. “I know. If she doesn’t call me back, I’ll tell her at the hospital when I see her next.”

Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Try to not screw this up, Connor. As much as I like Robin, I’ve never seen you this happy before and I think it might be because of Sarah.” 

Connor nodded as she got in the car. He shut the door. Then watched as she drove off before turning and making his way to his SUV with a sigh. His sister was right. He had been half-assing his relationship with Sarah. He was such an asshole and an idiot to think that keeping her at arms length or all to himself would work.

[piratesfromspace]

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw.  Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are. 

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

[theirbbygirl]

Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!) 

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life. 

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours).  From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults. 

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted.  Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily. 

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe. 

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night. 

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated. 

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise. 

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back. 

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry. 

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that. 

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.” 

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions. 

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens. 

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom. 

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.” 

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen. 

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone. 

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket. 

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.” 

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?” 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.” 

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode. 

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story. 

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain. 

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering. 

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to. 

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me. 

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self. 

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness. 

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern. 

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head. 

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.” 

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.” 

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?” 

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.” 

“So maybe he doesn’t then.” 

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile. 

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks. 

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept. 

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic. 

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her. 

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee. 

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do. 

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart. 

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet. 

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?” 

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.” 

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.” 

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it. 

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?” 

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own. 

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.” 

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?” 

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.” 

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked. 

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.” 

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo. 

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon. 

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to. 

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces. 

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly. 

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.” 

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.” 

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table. 

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind. 

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes. 

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment. 

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing. 

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away. 

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message. 

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes. 

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well. 

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner. 

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen. 

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?” 

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety. 

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. “I’m leaving.” 

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.” 

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.” 

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?” 

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it. 

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile. 

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat. 

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest. 

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university. 

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go. 

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other. 

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders. 

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug. 

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person. 

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say. 

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not. 

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly. 

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with. 

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home. 

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to. 

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives. 

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho. 

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!” 

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?” 

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?” 

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?” 

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door. 

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home. 

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor. 

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there. 

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer. 

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug. 

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds. 

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up. 

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.” 

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all. 

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him. 

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch. 

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?” 

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?” 

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond. 

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?” 

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well. 

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.” 

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.” 

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”  

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.” 

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?” 

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?” 

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post. 

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again. 

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away. 

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin. 

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.” 

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair. 

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes. 

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time. 

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after. 

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there. 

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

[potatoes-is-are-food]

Miss potatinha pls can I have Touya-nii getting cucked by his incel friend Shigaraki who he teased would neva have a gf, and is now fucking touyas sister? 🙏🙏

Here you go light of my life~ I hope it’s everything you wanted, it was definitely really fun to write. 

Warnings: slightly implied incest, Touya-nii being a meanie

“Touya-nii,” you softly tug at his sleeve, wince when he swats your hand away and tells you to wait, “but Touya-nii I have to go,” you whine. He glares at you.

“Wait until Keigo gets back,” he pulls you to sit on the armrest beside him, “I don’t want you two alone together.” You don’t ask why, you’ve seen the way his friends look at you. They said they wanted to be your friends, too, but Touya keeps you tethered to his side constantly, especially when Keigo is around. It’s like he doesn’t want you to talk to anyone that isn’t him.

It wouldn’t be so bad if your brother wasn’t so mean. He tells you you’re stupid, gives you spankings if you do something he doesn’t like, pinches your thighs, flicks at your chest, and gives you hickeys you can’t hide just because he can and likes to make you uncomfortable. Makes you “play wrestle” so he can grind his crotch into your body while you squirm and try to get away, just how he likes. He makes you cry and then tells you to suck it up while he lets you sit in his lap to “make up for it,” without saying sorry. Ever.

When the blonde comes back Touya lets you go, telling you which hallway to go through since this is Shigaraki’s house and you’ve never been. You nod, give his cheek a kiss when he tells you to, and scamper off to relieve your bladder.

Just as you’re closing the door on the way out you see his other friend, Tomura. He’s never worried about Tomura being around, he thinks he’s too creepy and you’ll cry for your nii-san if he tries anything. You don’t think he’s creepy, though. He’s a lot nicer than Touya. Honestly Keigo is the one that creeps you out when he tries to touch you and makes lewd comments to see you flustered. Shigaraki usually just stares a little but it doesn’t really seem like he knows he’s doing it.

You wonder if he’s nice to you because Touya is mean to him, too. You’ve heard him say Tomura couldn’t get a girlfriend if he paid someone and a bunch of other insults. He calls him crusty and says he’s gross, and one time you could’ve sworn you saw him wiping his eyes after Touya finished berating him.

He walks back with you into the main room where Touya and Keigo are laughing at something on one of their phones. When your brother sees you he gets up, pinching your cheek.

“We’re gonna go grab some beer. Play with Tomura or something, yeah?” You nod, not wanting to risk him spanking you in front of his friends again if you said no. He pats your head and heads out with the blonde, leaving you and Shigaraki alone; completely secure in the thought that he’ll come back to you awkwardly playing video games. Or maybe if he’s lucky crying for your nii-san because Tomura’s creepy ass tried to cop a feel.

The two of you end up playing some fps game, sitting in the floor next to each other mashing buttons while you murder your opponents in co-op. You’re not horrible but he’s definitely much better than you and it’s clear he’s completely carrying you through the matches. You keep sneaking glances over at him, admiring the focused expression on his face. It’s a similar expression to the one he has when he’s looking you up and down. You’re not stupid, you can tell when he’s leering at you but for some reason it’s more flattering when it’s him rather than creepy.

Victory flashes across the screen and you set down your controller, pulling your knees up to your chest. He throws his down and goes to the kitchen to grab an energy drink, taking a sip and then offering the can to you to try. Your cheeks burn as you press your lips to the same place his had just been, barely even tasting the liquid inside before handing it back and muttering a thank you.

“Wanna see my setup? It’s way better than the console.” You nod too fast, too enthusiastically, and follow him back down the hall and into his room. It’s gross, there’s empty cans all over the place and laundry covering every inch of the floor. Several hoodies are strewn across his unmade bed and you can’t help but wish you could put one on. You watch him and listen as he tells you about the monitor and how he customized all his stuff, but you don’t understand any of it, simply nodding along and happily taking another sip of his drink when he offers.

“Can I sit?” you ask softly, gesturing to his messy bed. He shrugs, clearly trying too hard to seem indifferent, and you sit, hand smoothing over the soft fabric of his jacket as you move it aside. He sets the can on another empty one on the desk and plops down beside you, much too close for comfort if he were anyone else. You wonder vaguely if your nii-san would make him move.

“You’re cute,” he says bluntly, and you nearly squeak, face burning as you manage a small nod in thanks. He grins widely, gripping your shoulders and looking at you intensely, “So do you wanna go out?” his fingers are digging into you but all you can do is nod again, leaning eagerly when he comes closer until you’re clumsily pressing your lips together.

He almost immediately shoves his tongue down your throat, cupping your face too hard and smushing your face against his. You tangle your fingers in his hair, whimpering when he moves his hands to pinch at your hips and thighs. You cling to him as he pushes you onto your back, his old mattress squeaking loudly under you as he swings a leg over to straddle you, never breaking the kiss.

He tastes like the energy drink, his hair is greasy when your fingers run through it, and you’re pretty sure your head is resting on one of the many questionable stains littering his bed, but you’re elated. Both of you. He gropes harshly at your chest, frantically shoving your shirt up to paw at your nipples, pinching them roughly as he groans into your mouth.

You whimper when he bites your lip, and he pulls away smirking down at your trembling body. His eyes lock onto your chest and he yanks your shirt completely off before setting his sights on the rest of your clothes. You pull him into another kiss while he clumsily works off your pants, pulling them and your underwear, leaving you completely naked and him with everything on.

Blood rushes into your cheeks as he pins your arms, hungrily looking over your bare form as though he’s unsure where to start now that he’s got you. You shyly cross your arms over your chest but he takes and pins your wrists above your head, kissing you briefly before dipping down to your chest. His tongue flicks against your hardened nipple, his free hand pinching at the other one as he starts to suckle the soft flesh. He releases your wrists to grip your thigh, pulling your leg out from under him. You get the hint and wrap them around his waist, the fabric of his t-shirt grazing your clit just enough to make you jump at the contact.

He leans back and pulls his shirt over his head, letting it join the mountains of others on the floor. His eyes lock onto your pussy and his tongue trails along his lip. You’re not sure he’s even aware he’s doing it. Without a word, he delves between your legs, excitedly licking you with no technique or regard for how it feels, merely wanting to taste. You squirm and his arms wrap around your thighs, pinning you as he laps at your folds. His clumsy movements against your clit are enough to send you over the edge, and you grip his hair as you cum, crying his name as your back arches.

He wipes his chin off with one of the random articles of clothing scattered under you and flings it to the floor, crawling over you and latching onto your neck. His cock springs free as he shoves his pants down, bouncing slightly before weighing heavily down. Bigger than you’d imagined, and you’d thought you were generous. You catch him smirk at your reaction, giving it a few pumps for your viewing pleasure.

He lines up the drooling head of his cock and presses slightly in, gathering slick on it before pushing in the rest of the way. The stretch has your eyes rolling back into your head and soft whimpers leaving your lips. His head bumps your cervix as his hips meet yours and you let out a guttural moan, head flopping back onto his bed.

“Fuck,” he groans, looking down at the sight of his pubes pressed flush against your folds. He gives a few experimental thrusts, marveling at how much your walls cling and twitch around him. You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him into another kiss as he starts to really move. He’s rough, like you expected, hips rolling against yours almost frantically as he fucks you into his mattress.

You’re moaning and panting into each other’s mouths moreso than actually kissing, gripping at limbs as though you’re both worried it isn’t really happening. The bed groans and the headboard smacks against the wall, bed springs squeaking loudly, however it’s not loud enough to drown out either of your moans.

For a time he leans back and smiles wildly at you, not attempting to hide his excitement. His pace is uneven and rapid, borderline inhuman. He grips your hips to keep you in place as he uses you like a toy, immediately stooping to kiss you when you give his arm a little, needy tug. He’s perceptive, trailing a hand gently along your cheek when you cling to him, still reaming you without pause.

Your tongues twirl together as his hands come up to press yours into the bed, fingers interlocked as his thrusts get more animalistic. Tears prick at your eyes, his rough treatment and the friction from his hair pushing you closer to the edge again. As though able to read your mind, he trails a hand down your body, pinching and groping his way to your clit and rolling it in his inexperienced fingers.

You can tell he’s close, his hips sputter and he groans, shoving his face into your neck to suck at your skin and muffle his noises. His treatment of your clit gets rougher, the puffy nub’s abuse bringing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll back in your head and you cry out just as the door opens, giving your brother a front row seat to your O face.

Touya’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates at the sight, Keigo’s immediately doing the same but accompanied by a massive grin. They watch as Tomura groans, unaware of their presence, spilling himself inside as your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. He presses into you deeply, humping his cum against your cervix with a shudder before he collapses on top of you, panting.

You tremble under him, grateful for his body covering yours as your face burns. You shake him slightly and he grunts in response, muffled in your neck. He looks up after a second, concerned at your expression before he turns, face going completely white.

Tomura locks eyes with Touya, both completely at a loss for words. Keigo looks over all your exposed skin he can see, ecstatic look still plastered over his face. You’re looking anywhere except at your nii-san or Keigo, trying not to cry as you pull one of his numerous hoodies over your chest.

“Uh,” Tomura starts, “we got along fine. How was the beer run?” You think you can hear Touya’s brain implode.

[weasleylangs]

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward.  Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention.  Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa​ @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​​ @lumosandnoxwriting​​ @loveboyhalo​​ @harrysweasleys​​ @freds-slut​​ @rcwenaclaw​​ @barneswidow​ @fandomhideout​​​

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile. 

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long. 

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something. 

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth. 

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.” 

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!” 

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?” 

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what. 

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind. 

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling. 

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in. 

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.” 

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter. 

“Did you at least swipe right on me?” 

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.” 

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.” 

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.” 

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people. 

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will. 

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.” 

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.” 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile. 

“Of course, Freddie.” 

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend. 

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x 

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel. 

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass. 

“What happened today?” 

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up. 

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.” 

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him. 

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.” 

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?” 

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?” 

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking. 

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans. 

“You told me to stop being picky!” 

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing. 

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.” 

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother. 

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.  

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :) 

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.  

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;)  > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/ 

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :) 

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred. 

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of  his little brother’s best friends. 

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him. 

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?” 

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?” 

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N. 

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis. 

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.” 

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath. 

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy. 

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw. 

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom. 

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet. 

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together. 

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?” 

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet. 

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure. 

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up. 

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.” 

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves. 

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at. 

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead. 

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment. 

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey. 

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?” 

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.” 

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant. 

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?” 

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?” 

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms. 

From: Neville  > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram. 

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick. 

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more. 

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.  

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen. 

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!” 

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-” 

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.” 

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.” 

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.” 

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears. 

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?” 

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. 

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers. 

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked. 

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

[ifmywishescametrue]

omg now im jealous about all of the breaking up and making up stories!!! they're all so wonderful but is it okay to ask for a steve/tony one? i know you've made one inspired by ts (amazing) and this time, maybe they meet/bump in a coffee shop? idk angst potential but also hopeful/happy ending aahhh. your stories are amazing esp ivy!!! thank you! <3

thank you so much!! it ended up being more cute than angsty, but I hope you like it!

Steve's pencil drifts idly across the page of his sketchbook with no end vision in mind. He's killing time until Nat shows up, which could be anywhere between the next five minutes and the next two hours with her vague text that simply said running late. When he looks up to reach for his near empty coffee cup, he freezes with his hand in the middle of the air.

At first he thinks it might not even actually be him. Tony's hair was never quite this well styled before, always a tangled mop on his head that sometimes fell into his eyes. Steve used to spend hours sometimes running his fingers through those wild curls while Tony slept on his chest. It's been tamed since then, cut shorter and held into place by some type of product. The facial hair is new, too. He remembers a time when it would always come in patchy and uneven, and Tony would pout as he shaved away the latest attempt at looking older than he was. The eighteen year old boy in oversized hoodies and stained jeans he met years ago has been replaced by a man in a well-pressed, expensive looking suit with a leather briefcase, like he just stepped out of a boardroom a minute ago. From what Steve has read about his life since they broke up, he probably did.

Steve stares without fully meaning to and for much longer than he would have if it was intentional. He watches him order his drink and smiles when the barista’s eyes widen at what he knows is an overly complicated order, wondering if Tony ever did finish his quest to find that perfect combination of syrup flavors, sugar, and cream that only he would ever like.

He catches the double take when Tony notices him there, right as he’s taking his first sip of the iced drink, and the cough when he chokes on it is anything but subtle. Steve looks away with red cheeks and tries to pretend he wasn’t staring, but it’s a futile effort. He can’t say he minds, though. Not when it means Tony walks over to him and unceremoniously drops himself into the chair across from him.

His mouth forms a familiar smirk, and he says, “You seem to have a staring problem, Rogers.”

Suddenly, Steve is nineteen again, falling hopelessly in love with the boy in his introductory chemistry class. It felt sort of like fate at first when they were paired together for the final project, and Steve remembers thinking that his chances were shot to hell when Tony sat down next to him and said those exact words. He never was any good at being discreet.

Back then, for that first time, all he could manage was a stuttered apology in response. But eventually it became their thing. Something just for them that no one else could ever understand. When Steve would watch him from across the room at parties, because he knew how much Tony loved having his eyes on him, and Tony would saunter over with that same smirk and those same words, there was only ever one reply.

“Guess I just really like what I see,” Steve says, and Tony’s face splits into a grin that matches Steve’s own. He’s still beautiful, even if it’s different now. Less softness to his appearance and more defined edges and sharp lines, but heart stoppingly beautiful nonetheless. He doesn’t quite say as much, but he does comment, “You do look good, by the way. Different, but good.”

Tony’s smile softens into another familiar one. It’s his smile for compliments, when he’s thinking self-deprecating thoughts that he won’t voice. Instead he’ll turn the attention back around, shifting the spotlight.

“So do you. The good part, but not really the different part.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, contemplating if not looking different contributes to the good or not. He should look different somehow, shouldn’t he? After two and a half years not seeing each other in person and what feels like a lifetime’s worth of heartbreak in between then and now, he should look as changed as he feels. As changed as Tony looks now, like he’s someone new entirely. He’s pretty sure the t-shirt he’s wearing now is one he owned back then.

“Thanks,” Steve says anyway, for lack of anything better.

Just before it has the chance to fall into awkward silence, Tony says, “I didn’t know you were in New York these days. I would’ve called or something if I’d known.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Would you have?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I would’ve thought about it, at least. You know, stalked you online, found your number, dialed and hung up a few times.”

Steve laughs, fiddling with the straw wrapper from earlier to give himself something to look at other than Tony. “I moved back last year. Thought about calling, but I figured you were busy. Didn’t want to waste your time.”

It’s only a partial truth. He did think about calling when he came to Brooklyn after his year-long internship in London ended, but he didn’t want to know what Tony would say if he did. If he would have some sort of transparent excuse to avoid seeing him or if it would be an outright rejection.

“I would’ve made time for you,” Tony says, so painfully sincere that Steve has to look up again to meet his eyes.

He wonders if Tony is thinking of that last fight, if it’s a purposeful or coincidental reference to some of what Steve said. It was by far the worst fight they’d ever had, all over the phone with an ocean between them and so many things that Steve still wishes he could take back. Accusations flew on both sides until the entire thing was blown so completely out of proportion, yet impossible to reel back in. He should have just hung up the phone before it went that far. Before he could tell Tony that he always felt unimportant compared to everything else in his life, which was sometimes true but entirely unfair. Before Tony could say that Steve talked about Peggy in the same way he used to talk about him, and he didn’t have to finish the thought for Steve to understand the implication.

“Are we talking about it?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs, feigning casual, but just the corner of his lip is between his teeth in that way that means he’s nervous and trying to hide it. “I guess that depends on what this is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we said back then that maybe it was just bad timing. You were in London, and I was in Boston until graduation, and it was always going to be a bit of a mess, but there was always that someday chance, right? So maybe this is someday, and we talk about it, and try to get it right this time,” Tony says. “Or maybe that was just something we said and didn’t mean, and I ask you about your life, and you ask about mine, and we talk and laugh and pretend that we’re friends again for the next half hour or so before we go our separate ways.”

It’s an easy choice, really. If there’s one thing that Steve’s sure of, it’s that it’s always been him and always will be.

“I don’t want to go separate ways,” Steve says. “The first time was hard enough, and I never really moved on. I got better, but I don’t think I’ve been more than just fine in a long time.”

Tony nods slowly, “I kept thinking you would call, you know. Back then. I thought you would call and tell me that it was a mistake and it would be okay again, but you never did. Although, I guess I could’ve called, too.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“For the same reason as you, probably. I couldn’t risk it if you didn’t want me again. Couldn’t risk getting back together just to break up again, either. We weren’t exactly the poster children for making long distance work.”

“We were terrible at it, weren’t we?”

Tony’s smile is tinged with the pain of the past. “It’s kind of funny because I remember thinking that it might be a good thing for us when you told me about London. Can’t get sick of somebody if they’re not always around.”

“You thought I would get sick of you? You never told me that.”

“Why would I?” Tony laughs. “Just put all my insecurities on display like that? Come on, Steve, that doesn’t sound like me, does it?”

Steve laughs with him briefly, “No, but I could’ve told you back then that it wasn’t possible. Told you that I wanted you around all the time and I missed you every second you were gone. I might’ve even stayed if you had told me. I was thinking about it, you know? I almost turned the internship down. Probably would’ve if you’d asked even once for me not to go.”

“It was your career. I never would’ve asked you to give that up for me.”

“There would have been something else. Another job somewhere closer to you.”

“I still wouldn’t have asked,” Tony says. “And I would have told you to go if you’d said you were staying.”

Steve knows that, which is why they never talked about it much before he left. Tony pretended to be happy for him, and Steve pretended to be happy for himself, when really it already felt like the beginning of the end. A year apart is longer than it seems, and it didn’t take more than a few months to realize it.

“I never…” Steve starts, trailing off when he doesn’t quite know how to finish the sentence. “There was never anyone else. Not while we were together, and never with Peggy.”

“I know. I knew back then, too, that you were never that kind of person. Jealousy’s just a real bitch sometimes.”

“There’s really not been anyone since, either,” Steve adds, and Tony’s mouth quirks into a half smile. “I mean, a couple of people here and there, but nothing like what we were.”

“There’s not a whole lot out there like what we were, is there?”

Steve smiles, leaning back in his chair, “No, there’s really not. But I do remember reading a rumor that you got engaged.”

Tony groans, and it’s so much like he used to sound when he was nine pages deep into a ten page essay at three in the morning that Steve has to laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh. That rumor haunts me, Steven,” Tony says, belied by a grin that he seemingly can’t control. “Do you know how I found out about my supposed engagement? When my mother called and asked why I hadn’t told her I was planning on proposing.”

“So I’m still the only person you’ve ever proposed to,” Steve teases, just for the way he knows Tony will get indignant about it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that one didn’t count?”

“You were on one knee, you asked a question, and you had a ring. All the boxes are checked, sweetheart.”

“It was a blue raspberry ring pop, and you ate it,” Tony argues. “Not to mention that I actually asked you to marry me someday in the distant future. That’s not a proposal.”

Steve laughs again, thinking about that day in the middle of their living room, just a few weeks before Steve got the call that would take him to London and change everything. It was almost like a joke, and for anyone else it would have been. Not for them, though, because Steve remembers the look in Tony’s eyes when he dropped down in front of him, spur of the moment and impulsive like almost everything was back then. He remembers how it still felt like a promise, even if it wasn’t the real thing.

“But I said yes, which I think technically means we’re still engaged.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony scoffs. “It’s going to be a production when we get engaged. Elaborate and planned and romantic as hell.”

“When, huh?” Steve grins.

Tony’s cheeks pinken a touch, but he doesn’t take it back. He reaches for Steve’s hand on the table. “Yeah, when. Is that alright with you?”

Steve threads their fingers together, holding on tight. “That’s alright with me.”

[echo-of-sounds]

who cares if it’s cliche?

-Aizawa x gn!reader-

cute gif

This was a commission for @seraphicghost​! They asked for a fluffy/sweet scenario with the reader confessing in the rain plus a kiss. Thank you so much for the commission! This was super cute to write!

“Here’s your beer, boys!” Nemuri set the bottles down for Hizashi and Aizawa. She scooted in beside you, chirping, “And here’s your Sex in the Driveway.”

“Thanks,” you droned, choosing to ignore her suggestive eyebrow wiggle. She wasn’t one to let anyone live anything down, and now that she noticed, it has only gotten worse.

Hizashi chugged his beer, then slammed it rather loudly. “Alright! Sho, I’ve shown up at work high, I’ve had a one-night stand with Nemuri, and I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“The former.”

“What? How’d you figure that out so quickly?!”

“Hizashi,” both you and Aizawa said, telling him to control his volume. Aizawa finished flatly, “You can’t not talk about everything you do. You’d tell me something like that. Not to mention how useless you are high. The entire school would’ve noticed.”

You hid your smile behind your drink. The faint smirk that lifted Aizawa’s lips fluttered your chest, spinning into your stomach. If only he let himself smile more, experience happiness more, then you could see his handsome smile more. Dark eyes flicked to yours, flustering your heated heart further.

You had to look away and drink some water. You were an adult. He shouldn’t be making you flashback to high school crushes and wistful, young romance.

The game continued for a few more rounds, eventually petering out. Nemuri leaned against you. Alcohol swarmed from her sigh. Pink flushed her cheeks, sticking hair to skin. She mumbled into her glass before finishing it, “I think it’s time to head home.”

“I’ll get a ride.” You clicked on your phone, and it wasn’t long till it beeped: “Car’s here.”

Sooner than you could even move a leg, Hizashi jumped up, swooping an arm around Nemuri’s waist. “I’ll bring her home. You two have fun.”

“Hizashi,” you called after him. He didn’t acknowledge you as he escorted her outside.

They just abandoned you with Aizawa, who was already looking at you when you glanced over. You went to take a drink. The empty glass prevented that. Lemon slices and ice taunted you, laughing that your last barrier between you two was gone. You set the cup down with a sigh.

Shouta nodded at it, “Want another drink?”

“Sure.”

You were once again beaten to your feet; He stood and took the glass. “Same thing?”

“Yeah, another Sex-” Your voice flatlined upon meeting his eyes. Despite the shadow under them, the red in them, and the heavy brow above, their sudden sharpness took your breath, completely unlike their usual dull and dry tone. The change nailed your brain useless.

“More sex?” His lips lifted ever so slightly. When no sound escaped your hanging mouth, he goaded, “More sex then.”

You slumped in the chair, holding your too-fast heart, replaying the bumbling. Saying ‘sex’ while being within two feet of his face, able to discern the bristles of his beard, a crack in his bottom lip, how attractive- Stop. If you couldn’t grow up and say something to him, then don’t bother thinking it.

A blue drink was placed in front of you. It was only your second, yet combined with the tickling in your neck and the bite in your chest, it felt like you were four or five in.

Shouta retook his seat across from you. Whatever you were feeling, anxiety or infatuation, that weighed your heart, lightened with his soft smile. It reached up to a soar when he asked about your most recent patrol.

Thankfully, the conversation from there flowed smoothly. You could keep up with no fumbling and simply enjoy your time with him. And you even got to see a couple more smiles, though they were faint. Every single one made thoughts echo inside: Just ask. It’s not that hard. Just ask! It made it difficult to focus on his words.

Once you finished your drink, your body, while light, lagged tired. You spoke through a yawn, “I’m gonna head out, Sho.”

“Need a cab?”

“No. I actually think I’m going to walk. It’s a pleasant night.” You stood and zipped up your sweatshirt.

He mirrored you and fixed his scarf. It wasn’t his Hero one, just a simple dark gray one, still allowing him ample room to nuzzle into it. Plus, it made him look reasonably fashionable compared to how he typically dressed. He grabbed your wallet from the table, holding it out for you, “I paid for the drink upfront.”

“Shouta, you didn’t need to do that.”

“No big deal,” he shrugged it off.

Yes, it was. If the others were here, you doubted- No. You knew he wouldn’t have done that.

You accepted your wallet and his kindness, muttering on the way out, “Thank you.”

The stroll home started quietly. Gusts blew your hood around. Shouta maneuvered to the outside of the sidewalk, so he was between you and traffic. Your elbows bumped every few steps. Neither of you commented or changed positions, letting it keep happening. If anything, you wanted to step closer to feel the emitting from his body.

Water dripped down the back of your sweatshirt, startling you. The single droplet increased to a steady rain in seconds. You hugged your hood and yourself. He nudged your arm and nodded to a nearby drugstore. It wasn’t much. But it was shelter.

Inside, Shouta slicked his hair back. Pale fingers combed through thick black, unveiling a sharp jaw and lovely scruff; too stunning to always hide under a mess of hair. The wet strands struggled to fit into an elastic. With enough finagling, they finally pulled into place, leaving room for the darkened line on his cheekbone to stick out. Just like his eyes did…

Which were staring at you. Dammit. You turned into an aisle, searching for anything interesting that wasn’t him. All it would take was a handful of sentences then he would know. If he reciprocated, all would be grand; your worry was for naught. However, if he didn’t, the plague of dread that’s accompanied the crush would crash. Never knowing felt like the better option.

You walked the main aisle. There were pool toys, makeup, hygiene, sex toys that you vehemently avoided, fearing Shouta would see the smallest glance towards them. A pair of fleece socks got your attention. The inside was incredibly fluffy and thick. The outside had kitty pawprints designed all over them.

“These are cute,” you smiled and showed them to the approaching Shouta.

He grunted and continued. It didn’t hide the fact you knew he thought them cute as well. Cats were the only things he gave into.

You combed the rest of the rows of items. Not one thing piqued your interest enough to buy. You searched for Shouta, finding him at the checkout, buying a pack of gum and some migraine relief pills. He lifted his brow.

You answered the silent question, “Didn’t see anything special.”

“Not even the cat socks?”

“If I’m still thinking about them in a few days, I’ll come back for them,” you smiled.

After thanking the cashier, your walk home resumed. The rain had stopped, leaving everything glossy and smelling of the earth. It lifted the air between yours and his shoulders.

Thick fingers extended a piece of gum. His eyes remained on the sidewalk when you took it and thanked him. The fresh mint sent a little chill down your back, frosting your mouth as you watched him, thinking, ‘Now was a perfect time. No one’s around. You just need to say it. A few sentences and you’re done.’

The instant your mouth opened, rain poured, loud and heavy. Your hood provided sparse protection.

Shouta grumbled into his scarf, “So much for a nice night.”

“Sorry… But you didn’t have to walk with me, you know? You could’ve called for a ride.”

His eyebrows scrunched with a groan.

“Here’s your turn, anyway. Get home fast,” you called over the pattering, nodding towards the left turnoff. The top of his apartment peaked out over the smaller buildings.

“It’s late. I’ll walk you home,” he grumbled again. His voice carried much less complaint this time and more concern.

Both of you picked up the pace, fast-walking down the sidewalks and hustling across the streets.

Only at your door did you face Shouta, not caring about being soaking wet anymore. He was closer than you expected, nearly bumping into his chest. You looked to his mouth, unable to make it to his eyes, unsure if you wanted to see them this close. You surprised yourself with how steady your voice sounded, “Do you want to come inside? Drink something warm?”

“I’m alright. Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

“I did. Thank you.” Your legs didn’t move. It’d be a whole lot warmer, calmer, dryer inside. “I know Hizashi drags you out to these things, but I still hope you had fun tonight.”

“I did.” His flat face gave you no emotional indicators.

“Good, I’m glad.” You said your goodbyes, yet your feet stayed put. Water soaked through all of your clothing. Goosebumps pricked down your arms. The rain vaguely obscured the handsome features you’ve been ogling at, wishing to call them yours.

He spun and took five steps away before you mustered, “Shouta?”

He faced you, waiting, half scowling, probably, hopefully, due to the rain.

“There’s something I’d like- There’s something I want- I want you to know. It’s okay if you don’t- If you’re not on the same page as me. I just- just…” Just say it. It was only a few words. You sucked in, preparing yourself mentally, emotionally, and physically for the absolute worst outcome, then spoke as confident as you could, “I just think you’re- I wanted to tell you that I’m-” Your heart heated as you finished, “I’m interested in you… more than a friend.”

The downpour built. You could no longer see his face. His mouth mumbled something. Unable to hear, you shuffled close, wiped water from your face, and asked him to repeat himself.

Shouta closed the tiny gap between your chests. You could only look at his mouth. This time though, you wanted to meet his eyes. It was the damn rain preventing that.

A finger lifted your chin. Instinct lowered your eyelids. The rain ceased on your face as lips connected to yours. They pressed unexpectedly sweetly, only to curl into a smirk and pull away.

You matched his smile, struggling to hold in the laugh, “A kiss in the rain, Shouta? Don’t you think it’s kinda cliche?”

“Who cares?” The hold on your chin tightened a bit and guided you back to him. All the anxiety bubbled up, popping and releasing as a giggle. Weight freed from your shoulders. You cupped his cheeks, kissing back with new excitement.

[fruitcoops]

hiii i've just spent the last 36-48 hours reading your works and oh dear do i lOVE your writing and this universe :') . i dont know if you are taking requests but i think it would be kinda interesting (and low key hilarious) if you would write the lions reacting/reading thirst tweets? idk if this is a dumb idea or not but just like some of them reacting to them and going "well i'm actually gay/married so.. no!.. but thank you!"

Part two of the six-month celebration, everyone! Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who submitted comments--I had over 60 come in, and while I couldn’t include them all, reading them was a true joy. The Lion Pride channel was something I started writing on a whim; I never expected it to grow like this <3 Much love to all of you!

TW for alcohol mentions and thirst tweets (nothing explicit)

“Why do I always fear for my life around you?” Sirius asked as Marlene settled into a cushy chair to the side of their table.

She smiled, catlike, and crossed her legs primly. “Because only Finn appreciates me.”

“That’s just the Aries connection, Cap,” Finn said with a smug grin.

“We’re both Leos, Harzy.”

“Eh, close enough.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at her. “You should probably start asking questions before this devolves further, Marley. He’s gonna keep digging himself a hole and we won’t get anything done.”

Marlene’s smile returned with a vengeance. “That’s where you’re wrong, Loops! We’re not doing any questions at all today.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Read it and weep.” She tossed a small posterboard at him like a frisbee; he caught it, barely, though both Talker and Sirius had to duck out of the way. Marlene faced the camera and winked. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, everyone! Today I’m here with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Thomas Walker, and our wonderful cubs to react to your comments on our videos!”

“Bet you thought we’d never see ‘em, huh?” James asked.

“The comments fall into four categories: thirsty, funny, mean, and sweet. I will be reading two of those groups, and my lovely fiancée will be reading the others because she is the human embodiment of sunshine.”

“If you make Dorcas read the mean ones, I’ll be sad,” Leo laughed.

Marlene gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I’m passing up a chance to roast you guys? Puh-lease. We’re starting off strong with some thirsty, thirsty comments! Loops, you’re up first.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

She cleared her throat, then turned a smoldering look on their table. “I didn’t know I had a freckle kink, but then Remus Lupin appeared and now here we are.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus muttered, covering his face with his hands as the others howled with laughter.

“Lupin has been looking sexy as hell on the bench for years now. I'm so glad people are simping over him like he deserves,” Marlene read. “And there’s a little heart emoji, just for you.”

“This is every one of my nightmares come to life,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms.

James lifted his glasses to swipe away the tears of mirth that had gathered in his eyes. “Are you kidding? This is everything I have ever wanted.”

“Y’know, it is so good to see people drooling over this hot piece of ass at last,” Finn sighed, reaching over to ruffle Remus’ hair as his face turned bright red.

“One more, and it’s a good one,” Marlene warned. She licked her lips, then had to take a moment to laugh before speaking. “I feel like Remus Lupin is the type of guy to bake you muffins—”

“Accurate,” Leo said.

“—but is also a kinky motherfucker.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open as the table erupted into cheering. Logan pumped both fists in the air and Sirius was laughing so hard no sound came out; Talker sank so low in his chair that only his head and shoulders were visible as he applauded.

“Why do people comment these things?” Remus asked, barely above a whisper. “Holy fuck, I’m engaged!”

“Speaking of…” Marlene raised her eyebrows and Sirius smile drooped.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Buckle up, Cap!” She rolled her shoulders out. “Get someone who looks at you the way Sirius Black looks at a hockey puck.”

Remus snorted; James’ laugh was so short and sharp that it set everyone else off as well. “That sounds like I have a hockey puck fetish!” Sirius complained. “Which is so, so not true!”

Finn made an ‘ehh’ noise, and he leaned around Remus to smack the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Next one!” Marlene announced. “Sirius Black was my bi awakening.”

A beat of silence passed. “Is that it?” Sirius ventured, looking nervous.

“Yep.”

“Aw, man, that one’s lame,” Talker said, shaking his head. “Everyone thinks Cap is a little hot.”

Remus shot him a look. “A little?”

“Fair. Marley, I dare you to find one person who wouldn’t tap that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Me, though that dovetails nicely into the last one for our lovely captain. Ahem. I understand why Remus is with Sirius: he's hot as hell and rich, I'd hit that too.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Leo gasped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Finn and Logan turned to him in unison with a mix of disbelief and offense written all over their faces. “Dude.”

“First of all, Leo, you found yourself two hot rich boys,” Remus interrupted. “Second, that comment is forgetting that he’s funny, and smart, and nice, and—”

Seconds after the initial cover, Sirius took his hand off Remus’ mouth as if he’d been burned. “Did you just lick me?”

“Moving on! This is in all caps, so be prepared.” Marlene shuffled through her posterboards and turned to Leo with an ominous smile. He glanced toward the camera in mild fear. “What does a person have to do to get some hockey player ass?! Like why is Leo Knut so fine?!”

“Amen!” Logan called as Leo blushed.

“According to six of the seven people at this table, the answer to that first question is to be a hockey player,” Talker laughed. “The world may never know the answer to the second, sadly.”

“Lily could play hockey,” James said, resting his chin on his hand. Every single one of the others rolled their eyes. “She could! She’d be so good at it, too.”

“We know,” Finn groaned. “You only mention it every other day.”

“Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Potter,” Marlene began with a sly look as she held up a new card. “Do James and Lily Potter need a third? Asking for me specifically.”

James paused, dumbstruck, while the others drummed their hands on the table. “…no?”

A general sigh of disappointment went up. “I was really hoping he’d say yes,” Leo said.

“Ask Lily next time,” Remus recommended.

James turned to him and blinked slowly. “What are you insinuating, Loops?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry, James, you’ll like this one,” Marlene assured him. “James Potter is the ultimate dilf.”

“You’re damn right I am!” James whooped. “Vindication, bitches!”

“Marley, what have you done?” Talker whispered. “He’ll never shut up about that, now.”

“Oh, never,” James all but cackled. “I’m officially a dilf, you guys!”

“I hate you,” Sirius groaned.

“Tremzy, are you ready? We’ve got a couple very special ones for you,” Marlene said.

“Anything to get us out of this hell,” Logan begged.

“In that case: Logan Tremblay’s ass is better than Sidney Crosby’s. I said what I said.”

A pleased flush rose to his cheeks as Finn and Leo high-fived over his head. “Really? Thank you!”

“And they would be correct!” Finn announced. “Best ass in the league.”

“Come on,” Remus scoffed, though he was smiling.

Marlene cleared her throat to get their attention. “I don’t think I can legally read this on air without being censored or getting the video taken down, but…”

She turned the board around; all seven of them leaned forward to read it, then slowly looked at Logan, who turned vivid red. “Mon dieu. Is that—someone commented that on a video? Like, for people to see?”

“I feel like I need to bleach my eyes,” Sirius said just as Finn began shaking with silent laughter.

Leo’s face fell. “You wrote that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Finn wheezed, scooting forward to fist-bump Marlene. “We wanted to see what you guys would say. Fuckin’ hell, your faces.”

“Alright, Talkie, are you ready?” Marlene asked around her laughter. “Seeing Thomas Walker with a baby makes me want to have his babies…please hit me up.”

He held up his index finger and took a second to laugh before responding. “If that’s Noelle, yes. If that’s anyone else, I’m flattered, but absolutely not.”

Logan made a face. “Ew.”

“We have two more,” Marlene warned. “For some very special people that aren’t here today, but I think you’ll like them anyway.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust the look on your face.”

“Daddy Dumo makes me swoon.”

A muddle of horrified noises echoed through the studio as all seven of them cringed. “Oh, my god, that’s my dad!” Logan yelped, covering his ears. Sirius looked vaguely ill and Remus’ shoulders crept toward his ears; James shuddered.

“The worst part is, we all know he can get it,” Finn said with a grimace. “God, I feel like I just heard someone talking about my parents having sex.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that,” Marlene laughed. “Last one, from one of our truth or drinks.”

Remus went pale half a second too late. “N—”

“Hope Lupin is a milf.”

A broken noise escaped his mouth and he clamped his hand over it while Talker rubbed his back in sympathy. Sirius shook his head. “Somehow, that’s worse than Dumo’s.”

“Whoever sent that in, show some respect!” Leo said indignantly as Remus bonked his forehead against the table. “Hope Lupin is a lovely woman!”

“I think they noticed that particular fact,” Marlene pointed out, earning herself several scandalized shouts of her name and a whine from Remus. “That’s all we have for thirst comments! Are you ready for some funny ones?”

“Anything,” Remus pleaded. “I am begging you, anything else.”

Marlene shook her head as she stood, still smiling, and kissed Dorcas on the cheek when she entered the frame. “Go for it, love.”

“Dorcas!” they all cheered, lighting up immediately.

“Hey, guys, it’s been a while!” She curled up in Marlene’s vacant spot and took her own posterboards out from underneath the seat. “Alright, let’s rock and roll. Pascal Dumais is the team dad and nothing will change my mind, and Tremzy is the annoying youngest child.”

“That is so accurate,” Sirius laughed, leaning just out of range of Logan’s playful punch. “Whoever commented that has no idea how right they are.”

“We’ve got a whole sibling dynamic thing going on,” Talker agreed. “Tremzy’s the baby of the family, Cap is the quietly chaotic middle child, and Pots is the older brother that starts shit and inevitably gets blamed for however out-of-control it gets.”

Dorcas nodded. “You are one hundred percent correct. In a similar vein: Pots was the dad jokes friend before he was even a dad.”

“Painfully so,” Leo confirmed, shaking his head as they all groaned in agreement. James looked rather smug about the whole thing. “So many puns.”

“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Dorcas mused as she drew a new card. “If Tremzy looked directly into my eyes for even two seconds, all of my problems would be solved. I am sure of it.”

“Yes,” Finn and Leo said in unison.

“It’s something about the eyes, I think,” James added. “They just stand out so much that it’s a little startling straight-on.”

Logan looked to the camera and stared at it, unblinking; it zoomed in slightly on his face. “Everything will be fine,” he said with mock solemnity. “Your problems are solved.”

“Well, that was terrifying,” Sirius said drily. “Got any more for us, Ms. Meadowes?”

“Of course I do! We’ve got quite a few for Loops and Leo.” She took a sip of her water before getting comfortable again. “My favorite thing about these videos is that we can all see Loops get steadily buffer as the season goes on. Good for you, king!”

“Flex! Flex! Flex!” the six of them chanted; Remus rolled his eyes, but slid his sweater sleeve to his elbow and flexed his forearm, resulting in enough hoots and hollers that they could probably be heard a block away. Talker fake-swooned into Leo’s arms and Remus lightly whacked him on the shoulder.

“Remus Lupin looks like he has squishable cheeks,” Dorcas read aloud.

“He does!” James cooed, scooting over and reaching out.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “I swear to god I’ll bite you.”

Sirius cupped his face between his palms and kissed his nose, then pinched both his cheeks gently. “Ta-da!”

“How many of these do we have?” Remus asked, though his voice was a bit muffled by Sirius’ hands.

��Just one more for you, and it’s my personal favorite.” Dorcas assured him. “I love how the team probably had no impulse control until Loops joined.”

Sirius let go of his face and dissolved into laughter as Finn nearly fell on the floor. “Oh my—you think he has impulse control?” Talker slapped the edge of the table as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Hell no, Loops is the first person to do stupid shit with us.”

“Yeah, I just don’t get caught,” Remus added around his own laughter. “Everyone thinks I’m such a hardass goody-two-shoes and it lets me get away with so much more than you delinquents.”

“Speaking of delinquents,” Dorcas continued. “This one is from our ‘Taste Testing Sexy Alcohol’ video: ah, yes, now I know how to do a body shot. 10/10, very educational video.”

“Do not take educational advice from us,” Finn blurted instantly. “I know this is a joke, but please exercise caution. That video was a ton of fun but a nightmare to recover from.”

Sirius winced at the memory. “I took two naps and then wished for death for a full day.”

“On a lighter note, who’s ready for some Knutty appreciation?” Dorcas smiled at her cards. “I've only had Leo Knut for a season and half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

“Big mood,” four of them said simultaneously.

Leo turned to the camera with a concerned look on his face. “That’s a meme reference, but are y’all okay?”

“No,” Dorcas answered. “Especially not this next person: Sometimes I do something productive and then I remember @LeoKnut is a 19 year old professional athlete who radiates happiness and with two of the hottest boyfriends the good lord has made, and then my bowl of packaged ramen seems less impressive.”

“I’m proud of your ramen,” Leo said, even as the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. “And I appreciate the note about my boyfriends, because they are definitely the hottest people the good lord has made.”

Talker stuck his lip out in a pout. “Rude.”

“Sorry, Talkie, I’m biased.”

“Last one before Marlene comes back, so you’d better enjoy it!” Dorcas announced. “Did the Lions effectively utilize girl power when they wrecked toxic masculinity, yes or yes?”

“Can we utilize girl power?” Remus wondered, resting his shin on his hand. “Isn’t that exclusively for, y’know, women?”

“We can utilize himbo power,” Finn suggested.

James gave him an offended look. “Not all of us are himbos!”

“Okay, but you definitely are.”

“I am not!” James held up his fingers to count. “There are only, like, three qualifications, right? I might be strong, hot, and respectful, but I’m not dumb so it doesn’t count!”

“Pots,” Remus said quietly, hiding his smile for half a second. “Buddy, that was four things.”

James paused, then sighed in resignation. “Ah, fuck, I’m a himbo.”

“You really are.”

“At least we don’t promote toxic masculinity.”

They raised their waterbottles in a ‘cheers’ motion as Marlene and Dorcas switched spots; Marlene stretched her arms over her head and grabbed the new boards. “I’m back, beloved himbos. Talker, Leo, you are beloved by the people and have no mean comments. Cap, we’re starting with you.”

“Are they actually mean mean?” he asked.

“Sirius Black seems like a little bitch. Not in a bad way, necessarily. He just. Seems like he'd be a little bitch."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. That answers one question.”

“He’s not a little bitch,” Leo said. “Pouty on occasion, but not a little bitch.”

Remus gave him a long look, then shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, you teared up a little when Hattie got a splinter in her paw but didn’t even yell when you almost sliced your finger off while making dinner.”

“Duality of man,” Finn said sagely.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow. “Finn O’Hara’s hair kind of reminds me of Garfield the Cat.”

“Alright, that’s just rude.”

“It does not!” Logan gasped at the same time Leo made a noise of agreement.

Finn turned to him in utter betrayal. “Nutter Butter, I thought you liked my hair!”

“I do!” Leo defended. “But they’re not entirely wrong. It’s very orange in the sun.”

“I’m never going to forget that,” Finn muttered, staring at the floor.

“Ugh, it bothers me so much that Lupin just objectifies Black all the time!” Marlene read in a high-pitched, nasal voice. “No respect in that relationship!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Marlene stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I have no idea what videos they were watching. Do you feel objectified in your relationship, Cap? I know the opinion of total strangers really bothers you a lot.”

“I’m really glad you picked up on that,” he said with false gravity. “Yeah, it’s such a bummer when my hot fiancé says I look nice. Such a blow to my self-esteem.”

“That was supposed to be a roast against me,” Remus said, looking amused. “Talk about backfiring.”

“Are you ready, Pots? This one’s pretty brutal,” Marlene warned. James nodded and Finn linked their hands for moral support. “James Potter is a swiftie and you cannot tell me otherwise.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “…yeah? That’s true? T Swift is a regular occurrence on the locker room playlist.”

“Also, James Potter looks like someone who would think black pepper was spicy.”

“Now that one is mean,” he complained as the others burst out laughing.  “It’s not my fault I have sensitive taste buds!”

“Oh, honey,” she said under her breath as she took a new card. “Get ready, Tremzy. This first one is short and sweet: Logan Tremblay looks like a lesbian.”

“That is not an insult,” Logan laughed. “Every lesbian I know is rad as fuck. I wish I looked that good in a leather jacket.”

“I just realized Logan doesn’t look short cause he’s next to bunch of hockey players, he’s short cause he’s 5’9.”

The smile slipped off his face in a millisecond as the others roared with laughter. “Quoi?”

“Oh, she got you good,” Sirius gasped, patting his shoulder clumsily. “Holy fuck, can I frame that?”

“That’s not what it says.” An edge of distress appeared in Logan’s voice. “Marley, that’s not what it says.”

James sat on the floor with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “You’re fucking—whoever sent that in, you are my new favorite person. Jesus.”

“Do you need a second to recover before we move on?” Dorcas asked as she draped her arms over the back of Marlene’s chair. “The next one is our biggest section by far.”

“It’s the sweet ones, yeah?” Leo asked.

“Right.”

“It might be a good idea to do those before Lo spontaneously combusts.”

“Agreed!” She swapped with Marlene and hauled a short stack of posterboards out from their hiding place with a smile. “A hug from Dumo can probably solve any issue.”

“Facts,” Logan said. “I could really use one right about now, too.”

“Has anyone noticed how blue Leo Knut’s eyes are?”

“Yes,” the six of them chorused.

Finn gave him a dreamy look. “Every single day.”

“When I first read this one, I thought I wrote it,” Dorcas said with a snort. “Someone give Marlene a raise. No reason why, I just love her.”

“Can we do that?” Sirius asked, looking toward the camera crew. “Can we lobby to give you guys raises? Because you definitely deserve it after all the bullshit you deal with to make these videos watchable, and Marlene, you’ve drawn the short end of the stick ninety percent of the time.”

“How?” she called off-screen.

“You have to actually talk to us and try to get answers.”

“Fair.”

Dorcas finished scribbling something down on her notepad. “Just making a note of this conversation for future reference. Moving on! Sirius Black and James Potter are a prime example of hockey husbands, and I adore them.”

“The ironic part of that is that we’re both in committed relationships, but we’re basically married,” James mused.

Remus shook his head. “You guys are so married. Lily wanted to get you matching rings for your birthday, Pots.”

“That would be so cool!” they said in perfect unison. Remus turned to the camera and spread his hands in a case in point motion.

Dorcas stifled her laughter before moving on. “This one is cute. Give Remus Lupin all the hugs! I feel like I could tell him he’s an inspiration and he’d be so nice about it—” She paused to glance up at them. “—this next bit is in parentheses: all the LGBT Lions give me that vibe, but Cap and Knutty are super intimidating so I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Leo’s face fell and Sirius’ eyebrows pitched. “I’m not intimidating!” Leo protested. “I thought we already went over that! Loops gives fantastic hugs, but I want some, too.”

“He definitely deserves all the hugs in the world, but I promise I’m nice,” Sirius said, a bit softer than usual. “Is it because we’re tall?”

Dorcas half-shrugged. “Probably. It’s a little startling at first. Oh, I could’ve written this one, too: The Venn diagram of men I trust and the Gryffindor Lions is a full circle.”

Talker beamed at the camera. “Thank you!”

“So many hockey guys are such douchebags,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I’m really glad we don’t do that shit.”

“Me, too.” Dorcas slid her old card under her chair. “Sirius Black’s hair looks so soft and I just want to touch it so bad.”

“It is so soft,” Remus agreed immediately. “You have no idea.”

“Everyone wants to touch Cap’s hair,” Finn said, sighing. “It’s so majestic.”

“I need a haircut.”

“No, you don’t,” Remus said as he tugged a stray curl. Sirius hummed.

“This one is from the interview some you did with Jules and Katie: these hockey boys being so soft with kids is my aesthetic! Like, it’s just so adorable to see these big, intimidating dudes be so, so sweet! Love them all!” She turned the card for them to see. “And then they added a heart at the end.”

“It’s impossible to be around those kids and not be happy,” James said. “They’re just too cute and wonderful.”

“Yeah, I love kids.” Finn nodded. “Especially the Dumais and Jules. They’re a hoot.”

“Jules would die if he heard you say that,” Remus laughed. “The hero worship is still going strong with most of you.”

“This one made me laugh when I first read it, but it’s really sweet,” Dorcas informed them. “Anyone else feel like we were deceived these past five years into thinking Cap was this hard-ass man, when in reality he's a cuddle bug who definitely captures and releases spiders instead of squishing them?”

“You weren’t deceived, I was just closeted,” Sirius said. “Also, I absolutely squish spiders.”

Remus gave him a look. “No, you do not. That’s my job. I’m the catch and release person if I can get away with it.”

James shook his head. “The third week of practices you saw a spider and threw me at it.”

“You did what?” Finn asked.

“There was a spider in my stall,” Sirius sighed, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. “And Pots and I were talking so I didn’t see it until I almost sat on it, and my brain decided the only logical thing to do would be to grab him and shove him toward the spider.”

“That was after you shrieked,” Talker added. “Like, literally shrieked. I’ve never heard anyone make a noise like that.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled. “We get it, I don’t like spiders.”

Remus shrugged. “But you are a cuddle bug. They got that part right.”

“We’re in the final two!” Dorcas announced. “This one has some pictures to go with it, so it’s on my phone. Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what these bitches have.”

“It’s us!” Leo cooed as the phone made its way down the line. In the upper corner of the screen, the photo appeared—it had been taken in New York, and Logan’s whole face was alight with happiness as Leo and Finn each pressed a kiss to his cheek. The camera caught him mid-laugh, so his eyes were closed and his chin was tucked slightly into Finn’s Strand hoodie.

“That’s my screensaver,” Finn said with a grin, pulling his phone out and turning it toward the camera without moving away from Leo. “One of my favorites.”

“I forgot you took that one,” Logan murmured. He hooked his chin over Leo’s shoulder and kissed his cheek; the four others at the table gave soft are you seeing this? looks to the camera and Dorcas smiled.

“Pots, I think yours is next. I hate to break it to you, Talkie, but they didn’t get any of you and Noelle.”

“We don’t take a ton of pictures together,” Talker said as James took the phone. “I mean, we take a bunch of selfies, but we don’t live close enough to each other to actually post that often. What picture is it, J?”

James was staring down at the picture with an unbearably sweet expression. “It’s our wedding. That’s my favorite one, actually.”

Like Logan, they had been captured while laughing—Lily was bent slightly at the waist as James clapped, his glasses just as askew as the flower crown on her head. It was impossible to tell who had told the joke originally, but they were both radiant in the sunset.

“That’s a really good one,” Sirius said with an unreadable look on his face.

“Well, well, well, fancypants, you two got a video.” James wiggled his eyebrows and Remus leaned in to see.

“What kind of video? One of our tikt—oh. Oh, this is so cute.” He shifted his chair over as the short edit began to play. “D, who made this?”

“A fan.”

“It’s really impressive,” Sirius said without taking his eyes off the screen. The edit was a series of photos, both on and off the ice; Sirius knocking their helmets together, then Remus looking back over his shoulder, then both of them in the water playing chicken in the sun. It was a slideshow of their life and their love.

“Can you send that to me?” Remus asked when it was over. “Cause that’s super cool.”

“Sure thing. Are you guys ready for the last one?” When they all nodded, she drummed her fingers on the posterboard and cleared her throat. “Arthur appreciation hours. He deserves it after managing to control the team.”

A cheer went up—all seven stood and applauded, half-laughing and half-whooping. “Miracle worker!” Sirius called.

“Best coach in the league!” Finn added.

“Most tolerant man to ever walk the earth!” Remus raised his water in a toast and they tapped the plastic edges together, nearly spilling all over the table.

Dorcas’ eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to the camera. “That’s it for today, Lions! Tune in next time for more content of our boys, and thank you for such wonderful comments!”

[everylastlinex]

chenford week prompt day 1: sneaking around

~ 4.3k words, rated T

also I’ve been missing Pitch so much again that I think I made Angela and Tim’s friend Mike Lawson 🤷🏽‍♀️

Let’s leave We can’t! We just got here. So? They won’t miss us, it’s packed. I think our FRIENDS would miss us. I’m very miss-able, ty. 😉 Another 20 minutes ok? Fine 😘😘😘😉😉😉🍻🥰🥰🥰 Lucy slips her phone into her pocket, looks up to catch Tim’s gaze a few tables away. His face gives away nothing but she swears she can see a twinkle in his eye, maybe notices him eye her outfit appreciatively, gaze passing over her long hair that she’s left down in waves, before he turns back to Angela, Harper, and another TO from the neighboring division. Because they’re not supposed to be eyeing each other. They’re a secret.

Which is hot in its own way. The stolen looks and sly glances, the torturous countdown until they can finally be together and touch and kiss and get their hands all over each other. Staying perfectly professional all day at work and then ripping each other’s clothes off the second she gets to his place.   She was the one who mentioned they should keep it between them while their relationship was still new, and Tim had readily agreed. But it’s been more than a month now and he hasn’t said anything about telling anyone, not Angela, not Harper, or going public at their usual cop bar after work so everyone is clued in. Lucy tries not to take it personally, knows he might need some time before declaring to the station he’s seeing his former rookie in a romantic sense. And she’s sure she is thankful for the reprieve from any sly comments or knowing looks, whatever assumptions people will draw written all over their faces when they look at her. But the thing is, she’s prepared for them, even steeled herself against them the second she decided to be with him, when she finally let those butterflies in her stomach fly free the moment he kissed her. Only Jackson knows because of course, if she’s spending nights away from her bed, her roommate is going to notice. It was only logical to clue him in and make the secret keeping a lot easier on herself, and to enjoy his reaction since he said he’s shipped it for like, eight months now. Not to mention the knowing glances he can toss Tim’s way which annoy the hell out of the senior officer. (“I just don’t like a rookie knowing my business.” “Former rookie. And would you rather I leave every night?” “… Fine. He can know.”) But maybe Tim’s not ready to officially go public yet. Which, is fine, she can wait as long as he wants. That’s not what’s important, what’s important is them and this thing they’ve embarked on, and spending time together and being with each other, crystal clarity dawning on them more and more that this is who they want to be with for a long, long time. But she sure wishes she could just walk over and sit by him, lean against him, maybe hold hands under the table because she knows he’s not a PDA kinda guy. Maybe flirt a little and slip out early with a lame excuse with all their friends knowing exactly what they’re up to. She’ll just have to wait a little longer for that. She sits squeezed into a booth with Nolan and Bailey, with Jackson at her side so she doesn’t feel like a third wheel. Thankfully going through Henry and Abigail’s wedding decor choices makes for great entertainment and she barely even notices by the time their first drinks are empty. “I gotta get going, but I’ll get refills,” she offers. “What, already?” Nolan says. “Come on, we’re off tomorrow.” “I know, but I’m meeting a friend,” she says vaguely, ignoring Jackson’s sly smile and moving towards the bar when she sees an opening in the crowd. “BRB!” ~~~ “Who’s that guy flirting with Chen?” Tim tells himself he turns to the bar at a normal and totally reasonable speed, but maybe he’s kidding himself because he swears his neck hurts from turning at the speed of light. Sure enough, Lucy’s at the bar waiting for refills talking to some tall brown haired guy who is looking a little too animated to just be exchanging pleasantries or directions to the bathroom. He knows Lucy’s chatty, but what the hell could they be talking about for so long, two strangers at the same bar.

There’s no need for so much unnecessary chatter. “Oh, that’s Paloma’s cousin,” Angela says, craning her neck around Tim to look at the man in question. “She said he’s bunking with her a few weeks until he finds a place. He’s hot. Chen should go for it. Girl needs to get some.” Their friend Michael just snorts into his drink, used to Angela’s comments from them all being rookies together. Tim just shakes his head at her, frowning for a reason that Angela doesn’t know yet. Angela rolls her eyes, assuming it’s because she’s commenting on people’s sex lives again, or lack thereof.

“What?” She shrugs. “Don’t be such a prude, they’re not our rookies anymore. Plus, I know you guys are friends. If no one else is going to ask her out,” she gives Tim a pointed look, “then he should.”

“Yeah, Bradford, you guys are friends,” Harper echoes from across the table, amusement dancing in her eyes, a knowing smile on her lips as if she’s daring Tim to challenge that statement. Harper was Tim’s point of contact when Lucy was UC on that op when she’d missed her check-in, he knows she probably read too much into his panic and protection for his former rookie. Well, she read into it absolutely right but he’s not gonna tell her that. “I- let’s- this is why I need you around more, Mike, so we can talk about the Rams instead of people’s private lives,” Tim emphasizes, knowing he’s deflecting and hoping it works. Thankfully, Michael isn’t at the same station as them to have a stake in team chenford and falls for the bait. “Hey, you’re welcome to come drink at our bar, buddy, the best chili fries in the state.” Angela points at him. “They are good. But our beer’s better.” “It’s not better, Ange,” Michael says, offended. “It’s so better, isn’t it, Tim?” Tim just nods, staring at the television installed on the opposite wall and pretending to be very interested in the local weather report, mostly so he can keep Lucy in the corner of his vision. She’s got her platter of drinks from the bartender by now but Paloma’s cousin, whoever he is, just keeps chatting and Lucy keeps smiling and nodding. “Ooh, he’s gonna check out her ass as she walks away, look!” Angela says with a laugh. And sure enough, they all watch as the stranger smiles one last time at Lucy, watching appreciatively as she turns and walks back to her table. Michael shakes his head in mock disappointment. “What can I say, we menfolk are a simple people.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Angela laughs, pushing aside her empty drink and reaching for her phone to text Wes. “He’s wearing a necklace,” Tim comments, shaking his head in disgust, remembering the derogatory comments his former drill sergeant would bark about men and jewelry and it absolutely not allowed in boot camp. “Surfer,” Michael snorts, and he and Tim share an amused look. “So? That’s cool, maybe she’s into laid back beach dudes,” Angela says, coming to Paloma’s cousin’s defense for no good reason other than to annoy him. “You army guys wear dog tags.” Tim glares at her, offended and annoyed at the comparison. “That’s completely different.” “Sure it is, Bradford, whatever you wanna tell yourself.” Harper still has her gaze on Tim, her wise eyes thoughtful as if she can read right through him. “Chen’s great, she deserves a great guy, surfer or not. Been a few months since she and her boyfriend broke up, right?” Angela nods, filled in on all the precinct gossip like usual. “Yeah, the professor. Jackson said it just fizzled after she got shot.” “Probably not man enough to handle being with a cop,” Nyla says harshly, her opinion of said ex-boyfriend very clear by the tone of her voice. “You know that’s right,” Angela agrees with a look of solidarity at Nyla. “Okay, Wes is out front. Be responsible, guys, make good choices. Nice seeing you, Mike.” ~~~ Tim’s not sure how he and Michael make it over to the former rookies’ table but somehow they have. It’s the last place he wants to be considering he wants to get the hell out of here and be in bed with Lucy (or on the couch, or against the wall, he’s not specific about the first round once they step foot inside the house), but at least this puts him in her vicinity even if they’re resolutely avoiding eye contact. Nolan had stopped Michael to introduce himself, saying he looked familiar, remembering that they’d run into each other once at a crime scene. Of course, who hasn’t this guy met in the area considering how damn old he is? But sure enough, with the former rookies is where he’s standing when brown haired surfer guy with a necklace makes his way over to the table, his eyes locked on Lucy.

“Hey, Lucy,” he says warmly, a little too warmly for a complete stranger if Tim has anything to say about it, “Paloma and I are headed out, but uh, call me sometime. I’d love to make dinner for you at the restaurant.” He holds out a business card with a number scrawled on the back, waits until she has no choice but to take it. “G’night.” With a passing nod to everyone else at the table, he takes two steps back, eyes still locked on Lucy, then disappears in the crowd.

“He wants to make dinner for you?” Bailey repeats, tone excited and overjoyed in that over-the-top way girls are for one another at every little thing. “I- not for me in particular! He’s a chef so he makes dinner for the whole restaurant, obviously,” Lucy explains, shaking her head in embarrassment as all eyes at the table are on her. She pointedly ignores Tim’s steadfast gaze from where he’s standing behind Jackson, eyes darting between Nolan and Jackson, pleading silently for her friends to save her from the unnecessary attention. “A man who cooks real food,” Bailey sighs dreamily, “yes, please. “I cook,” Nolan says quickly to his girlfriend, “everyone here can cook. Well, wait, can you, Michael? I know Jackson can’t.” When he opens his mouth to argue, John says, “Something made out of real ingredients, Jackson, not out of a box.” “Boxed food is still real food!” Jackson argues. “Are you good enough to be a chef at a restaurant in Los Angeles?” Bailey questions, then smiles triumphantly when Nolan falls quiet with no response. “That’s what I thought. So,” she turns back to Lucy, waggling her eyebrows, rubbing her palms together in animated excitement, “when are you going to text him? Definitely not tonight, too soon.” “Way too soon,” Nolan agrees. “Yeah, Luce, when are you gonna text him?” Jackson joins in on the teasing, having too much fun at his friend’s expense, very aware of Tim’s looming presence over his shoulder. And how he can do nothing about it without ‘fessing up.   “I-I’m not calling him!” Lucy looks around at everyone at the table, her gaze quickly meeting Tim’s, catching the way he’s staring at her, expression completely blank. He takes a sip of his beer when she catches his eye, and she quickly looks away in case the others catch her lingering. There are supposed to be no lingering glances, remember? “All I did was talk a little about the restaurants I’ve eaten at since he’s new to the area. That’s it. Nothing more.” “No harm in calling,” Nolan says gently, that overly friendly smile on his face that usually puts the person at the receiving end of it at ease. Lucy is not at ease, though, not right now, not with this conversation, not with Tim’s intense stare on her. “I mean, you are single. And he’s not a cop.” Bailey makes a face and releases a sound of disgust. “Ugh, two cops in a relationship. That sounds horrible.” Seeing the panic on Lucy’s face, Jackson quickly intervenes, “Hey, what’s wrong with two cops being together, huh? It can work.” “Really? Do share which cop couple is making it work, Jackson,” Nolan says sarcastically. “I-um,” Jackson shares a frantic look with Lucy at being cornered, then quickly looks up to the newcomer at the table for help, “hey, Michael, what’s your wife do?” He gestures toward his ring finger, having seen Michael’s wedding band. 
“She’s a librarian. Sorry.” Jackson grimaces. “There is one cop couple at our precinct-“ “See?!” Jackson says quickly, gesturing towards everyone at the table. “But they just got divorced after four years, so.” “Oh.” Jackson exchanges an apologetic glance with Lucy and decides to help by switching gears entirely. He happens to glance at Tim, catching his eye inadvertently and Michael sees the look. “And, well, Tim’s another statistic about cop marriages. Sorry, bud, but the rooks asked for examples, good or bad.” Tim’s jaw clenches, his eyes focused on the wooden table in front of them, and Lucy is sure she’s going to burst into tears of frustration and embarrassment any moment now.

Tim was right. They should’ve snuck out half an hour ago when he’d told her he’d had enough socializing for the night. He was right, he is always right.

“Anyway,” Jackson says frantically, drawing Lucy’s gaze to his, nodding supportively at his friend, “that’s one precinct in all the world. Hardly enough evidence for a scientific study, I’d say. Um, so Lucy and me are definitely invited to Henry’s wedding, right, John? I figured we could split a gift.” “I’ll walk you out,” Tim says to Mike, and the two make their way to the exit. He looks back at Lucy before he opens the door, giving her the subtlest of nods to join him before he steps outside. She grabs her purse, and fishes out her keys, gets ready to make her excuse to leave. ~~~ When she lets herself into Tim’s house, Kojo greets her enthusiastically, directing her to the couch so she has no choice but to slip off her shoes and sit down to cuddle with him. She lets out a sigh of relief at being out of that bar, away from that conversation, and wonders if she and Tim will talk about it tonight, or just brush it aside in that way new couples do when they don’t want to get to the ugly stuff just yet. She’d just been talking to the guy about restaurants, she had no idea it’d turn into such a thing and turn the whole night sour. “I have got to stop talking to strange men in bars, Kojo,” she tells the dog, and he makes a sound like he agrees. “I was just trying to welcome him to LA, jeez.” When she looks up, Tim’s making his way out of the bedroom, changed into sweats and a threadbare t-shirt, water bottle in one hand as he eyes her with a soft smile on his face. “Hi. Hey. Um... you left the door unlocked.” “Yeah, figured you were a few minutes behind me.” He makes his way to the couch and sits down next to her, leaving a few inches of space, not touching or reaching for her. She feels the immense gap in those few inches and tries to blink back the sudden rush of tears, to school her face from showing the spasm of hurt she feels. God, she may have dabbled in undercover but when it comes to him, to this, she feels like she’s constantly wearing her heart on her sleeve, her emotions written all over her face. The conversation in the bar is literally taking up space between them. So, Lucy does what she does best - she talks her way through it. “Sorry. About earlier, at the bar.” Tim’s gaze turns to her, blue eyes solemn as he listens. “I wasn’t- I didn’t know he was going to ask me out. We were just talking restaurants while I waited for drinks, that’s all.” “You don’t owe me an explanation,” Tim says slowly, and her heart falls. Oh. But she wants to explain to him, she wants him to know. They’re together, aren’t they? Of course they are. She’d want Tim to explain if some woman at a bar dropped off her number. She knows he wouldn’t call, he’s too honorable for that, but she’d still want to hear it, to feel reassured and confident as they begin this relationship they’re embarking on. Doesn’t he want the same? Doesn’t he trust her the same way? Does he think she would call or that it’s okay if she does because he’s not serious about this? Does- She takes a deep breath, tries to calm the barrage of thoughts running through her mind, tries not to regret coming over to his place. But clearly she’s not in the best headspace she could be in, and she should probably go mope in the comfort and security of her own bed, wait for Jackson to come home so she has someone to overanalyze and agonize over this with. “I should go,” she says quietly, avoiding his eyes and giving Kojo a few last cuddles. “I’m more tired than I thought.” She only manages to take two steps when he’s grabbing her arm and tugging her towards him, both of them standing and facing each other finally after a long day of staying professionally apart. Lucy wants to wrap her arms around him so bad, just hold him tight and snuggle into his soft t-shirt but she’s not sure exactly what to do, if she should. “Lucy? Hey, did I say something wrong?” “No, no,” she says quickly, shaking her head to avoid his eyes. “You sure? I just meant-“

“I’m not going to call him!” It blurts out of her before she can stop herself, and she watches as he stops talking instantly to listen closely. “Of course not. We’re together. I just couldn’t say anything in front of everyone since you don’t want them to know about us yet. Which is fine! I’m not rushing you, I just don’t want you to think I’m-“

“Wait, wait, hold on.” He does that thing where he physically shakes his head a little as if he can clear it that way, rearrange the neatly organized way he used to store his thoughts before an infuriating and honest rookie came in and jumbled up his bland, boring world. “What do you mean, me? You’re the one who doesn’t want everyone to know.” Lucy stares at him, dumbfounded. “What?” He stares at her like she’s crazy and not keeping up on purpose, like this is a test and he refuses to fail. “You said you didn’t want people to know about us yet. Remember when-“ “Yet,” she emphasizes loudly, underlining the invisible word in the air with her hand just in case he’s missing the importance she’s giving it. “As in, not right at the beginning when it was new and we were in a fun, secret bubble about it. But it’s been over a month now, and you-“ “I know how long it’s been,” Tim snaps, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance, “but you were  the one who said it, so I was waiting for you to tell everyone.” Lucy stares at him, eyes narrowed like he’s saying all this just to annoy her, like he’s the one making this a Tim Test. But he’s serious and intent as he looks at her, so she finally relaxes, can truly feel the stress escape her body as she releases a little huff of disbelief. “I was waiting for you to tell everyone.” Tim snorts in amusement, shaking his head at her as if this is all her fault. He reaches out, pulling her into his side, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You and your brain,” he says fondly. “Hey, don’t blame this all on me!” She smacks his chest playfully, glaring at him when he looks down at her. Finally, like she’s wanted to all night, she wraps her arms around his broad chest, her hands meeting behind his back, holding tight and vowing not to let go until she has to. She just doesn’t want to let him go. “It takes two to communicate, you know.” “I’m well aware, but figured since you love to hear yourself talk, you’d do the majority of the communicating.” Her jaw drops open in offense, a gasp escaping her even as he simply grins. Oh, he thinks just because he’s smiling and his eyes are twinkling, that he’s going to get away with that, nope, no way. “Excuse you, just because I excel at the fine art of conversation doesn’t mean-“ Suddenly she’s swallowing her words and humming in surprise as his lips meet hers. Then there’s no need to talk anymore, just a need to kiss, because they haven’t kissed all day and that’s just too damn long. Lucy stretches on her tip toes, squeezing him tight where her arms are looped around him, moaning at the way he kisses just like he does everything else in his life - with skill and precision, with attention to detail, with excellence. His big hands cradle her head gently, his tongue probing against her lips, sweeping the corners of her mouth like he’s trying to find all the secrets she hasn’t shared yet. “Tim,” she murmurs, clutching the fabric of his shirt, pulling away when she finally, annoyingly has to breathe. She rests her forehead against his own, thankful he’s leaning down so she doesn’t have to stretch up as much anymore. “I missed you.” “I missed you too,” he whispers, dropping one more fierce kiss on her lips, hands still holding her face like he doesn’t want to let go. He smiles at her, fingers tracing the apples of her cheeks, his lips still close enough to brush against hers every time he speaks. “And I know you’re not gonna call him. I know we’re dating. I know this is good. And we can tell everyone. I’ve had the relationship declaration form for weeks, just need you to sign.”

“You have?” Lucy perks up at that, smiling at him in outright giddiness. “Okay, I’ll sign. Sooo, next time someone asks me out,” she runs her fingers up his strong arms, wraps her arms around his neck, leaning all her body weight onto him deliberately so he has to adjust his stance and catch her in his arms, “I can say you’re my boyfriend?” She can’t stop smiling, the giddiness radiating through her, giving her more of a buzz than all the beer in the bar could’ve.

Tim scoffs at the term, can’t help but feel a little too old for it, what with a divorce under his belt and creeping closer to forty than he’d like, but he won’t say anything to dim the smile on his girlfriend’s face right now. “Go ahead. And stop being so damn nice to people while you’re at it.” “Yeah, I mean, one of ‘em could be a serial killer or something,” she jokes, chuckling when Tim glares at her, still not quite amused with her serial killer jokes. Lucy ignores him, continuing to smile and not letting let him dampen her good mood. “And I can tell all my friends?” Tim nods offhandedly. “And put your picture up in my locker?” He snorts. “You have a picture of me?” “Uh, I have tons,” she declares, sounding offended as if he thinks she hasn’t been documenting their whole journey together. “You and me and our dog.” “My dog,” he corrects even as she rolls her eyes at him. “Sure. Go ahead, plaster my face all over your bedroom wall.” “Ew, you’re not in a boy band, I said locker,” she corrects as if that makes all the difference. “And,” she hesitates, looks up at him shyly, making him pay closer attention, “I can sit next to you at the bar sometimes? Hold your hand?” Tim fails to hide a smile, marveling at how he got so lucky, thanks Grey once again for pairing him up with the hotshot rookie whose spirit he didn’t end up breaking after all, she’s the one who actually fixed him. He drops another lingering kiss on her mouth, lips moving to her ear to tell her, “I’d be honored. Though my hands might be wandering if you look as good as you look tonight.” He lets his hands run through her long hair, down the back of her blouse, cradling the curves of her ass and pulling her into him, grinding her closer so she can feel exactly how much he likes the casual look. “Can we go to bed now?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just resumes kissing her, turning her body towards the bedroom, shuffling her along the hallway. “Tim,” she moans again, arching her neck back so he can feast on her tattoo, trembling as he backs her up against the wall and his big hands slide under the fabric of her blouse, cupping her heavy breasts. “Tim,” she repeats, “can we still make out in your truck when we have opposite shifts?” He chuckles at her question even as he appreciates the way she looks, eyes glazed with lust, lips swollen, gaze intent as if the answer might be anything but yes. “Hell yeah, I like that part.” “I like that part too,” she tells him quickly. “I like all the parts so far.” He bites his lip to try and stop smiling, but he fails at it completely, so he bends close to kiss her softly, capturing the moan that escapes her when his hands slide up and down her waist. “I like all your parts too, babe.”

[eirikaanemo]

Can You Keep A Secret?

Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of starvation and sickness

Note: I haven't actually played Dvalin's quest but I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible. Feel free to leave a comment or message me if you see something wrong.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.9k Words

Your soulmate is secretly Barbatos... now what?

Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone is born knowing your soulmate's biggest secret. For most people it’s really unhelpful, but for some people it helps them find their soulmate. You’re in the latter group, because yours gives you a name.

You've known your whole life that your soulmate is secretly Barbatos. It's… interesting, to say the least. Of course you'd never dare to tell anyone. Thankfully, asking someone what their soulmate’s secret is isn’t very common. It’s considered to be very rude, so no one asks you what your secret is. They'd think you're crazy!

Barbatos hasn't been around for centuries and you're a mortal. This is the sort of thing you would read about in trashy romance novels! But even though it’s crazy and kind of overwhelming, you know it's true. You don't know if he'd ever accept you or want to be with you, in fact, you’re pretty sure he won’t, but you want to try.

Once that’s settled, you just have to find him. If he's anywhere, it's probably the city of Mondstadt. That’s where he seems to have shown up the most in the past, after all. So you move to Mondstadt. It’s a nice place and the people are friendly. Finding a job with the Knights of Favonius was fairly easy and it paid pretty well.

Unfortunately, the 'Storm-terror' problem starts shortly after you move. He throws the whole city into chaos the first time, and then proceeds to keep doing it regularly. The fear is all encompassing, but that's fine, you try to convince yourself. It will all be worth it when you find him. ‘If you find him’, your traitorous mind whispers.

It's been months, a year even, and you're starting to lose hope. How were you expecting to find Barbatos anyway? Shout from the rooftops for him to reveal himself and whisk you away? He hasn't been around for a long time and you knew that. And to be honest, at this point you've given up.

Going home is the logical thing to do, it’s where your family is after all. But you stay because you made yourself a home here. You have friends: Jean, Lisa, and Kaeya. You have come to love the city: music, freedom, and camaraderie. Well, you love the city except for the 'Storm-terror' attacks. Those aren't very lovable.

What concerns you the most though is that 'Storm-terror' is a dragon. And dragons trend to be important (like, archon important). But no one seems to remember this one. So you research. You visit the cathedral and speak with some nuns. You dedicate some time to listening to bard’s tales, asking them if they know any songs about dragons. One does, and it's surprisingly informational. You spend time at the library, pouring through book after book. And after all this investigation, you've come to the conclusion that 'Storm-terror' is actually Dvalin of the Four Winds. Not that anyone actually believes you

It didn't stop you from telling people your theory though, and being more respectful in how you refer to him, despite all the damage he's caused. Eventually they do start considering it and the city starts catching on. If you keep doing this, you may be able to change the city's perspective of and reaction to Dvalin.

The abyss mage catches on to this, and he just can't let that happen. It could compromise the whole plan. So one day he has Dvalin abduct you and locks you up. And true to your luck, this happens out of the blue while you’re taking a walk that you’d finally convinced Jean to go on with you. Which, of course, reverses all your progress and makes the situation even worse than it was before. Incidentally, this also does the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to do by stressing out poor Jean more.

The abyss mage doesn’t care about anything other than making sure you’re not able to go back to Mondstadt. The mage does not care about human necessities. Who cares if you die? Not him. He hates humans. It's kind of part of his job description.

Your prison is where Dvalin retreats to when not attacking. And the mage has to go report to someone else sometimes, giving you opportunities to speak with Dvalin. He never responds to you, but you can tell he eventually starts listening. You start by rambling about various subjects; then talking about how you know he's Dvalin, and that you're sorry he was being treated like he was, once you know he is listening. Because while you don’t know the whole situation, you know that he feels hurt by how humans have treated him.

After several days of talking to him, he slowly starts warming up to you. It’s a strange sort of bond that grows stronger as time goes on. He starts responding and the two of you actually have conversations instead of just you talking. Eventually you even mention how you know your soulmate is actually Barbatos and that you've kind of given up finding him.

He gives a thoughtful hum, lets you vent out your feelings, tries to think of an appropriate response, then allows you to drop the subject once you’ve worn yourself out emotionally. It’s becoming obvious that your health, physical, mental, and emotional, is degrading faster as time goes on.

One day Dvalin and the mage both disappear for longer than usual. After the mage makes sure you won’t be able to escape, of course. It’s not like you would’ve been able to leave anyway. At that point you’re not able to do much at all.

Little did you know that only Dvalin would be returning. They ended up facing the traveler and their companions in battle, and Dvalin was freed from the mage’s influence. The first thing Dvalin does is take them to help "the one decent human, that he actually cares about". You're in bad shape at this point, starving, sick, and weak. But you’re aware enough to hear Jean call your name and feel someone gather you in their arms before blacking out.

When you wake up you're at the cathedral and are feeling much better. Certainly you are not fully recovered, that will take weeks. That one bard who was able to play you a song about Dvalin is always there. You vaguely remember him being there when you were found. He doesn’t really interact with you much, he’s just kind of there, but he does play peaceful music that helps you fall asleep when you’re struggling to rest.

Then the day comes for you to go home. They’ve done all they can for you and you’re past the worst of it. But you’re well enough to be out and about. “Now you take care of yourself,” Barbara lectures you. “Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and eat three square meals a day, got it?”

“Got it,” you confirm. “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate your help.” She smiles, wishes you well, and returns to the cathedral. You take a moment to breathe and just appreciate being back home, free of your prison and the small cathedral room they’d kept you in while treating you.

Taking a deep breathe you start on your way home. “Hey!” You hear someone exclaim behind you. “Could you hold on a second?” Turning around, you see the bard quickly excusing himself from a street performance before running to catch up to you. Once he’s caught up, he gives you a smile.

“Hi! I’m Venti the bard! Would you be willing to speak with me about something? It’s kind of private so we would need to go to windrise or something, but you’ll want to hear this, I promise.” He says. “Alright,” you agree, “but I can’t make it all the way to windrise. Would my home do? I live alone so we’ll have privacy.” He nods, “that’ll work great!”

The walk home is quiet but comfortable. The bard’s content to hum a tune as he follows you through the streets. Soon you’re home, unlocking the door to let you and your guest in. You lead him over to the couch where you both sit down. “So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I was talking with Dvalin a day or so after we freed both of you and he said you mentioned you came to Mondstadt searching for your soulmate. And that you said your soulmate’s biggest secret, the one that you know, is that they’re Barbatos,” he explains. You feel a pang of betrayal at Dvalin’s actions and some guilt for sharing your soulmate’s secret in the first place.

It probably showed on your face because he quickly spoke up again. “He didn’t just tell me for no reason though. You see, I am Barbatos. I’m your soulmate.” Your head, which had been drooping with the weight of your emotions suddenly shot up as you fumbled for a response.

Apparently that showed too because he continued, “And I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to find me. I’m sorry I almost made you give up on me. Most of my waking time is spent incognito so I can watch over everyone while not being put in a position of authority. I didn’t anticipate meeting you ”

There’s a moment or two of silence as you gather your thoughts. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I understand why you did what you did and I’ll never hold it against you. How were you supposed to know I was even born yet, not to mention that I’ve been in the area searching for you.”

You take another moment or two to gather your wits. “I will also understand if you don’t want to do anything about this,” you state. “I don’t want you to feel forced into having a relationship with me if you don’t want to. The last thing I’d want to do is be responsible for making you miserable. And that’s not to mention how you’re an archon and I’m just a mortal.”

Your talking speeds up as you start rambling, losing control of the conversation as you feel more and more nervous. Once you realize you’re rambling you shut your mouth with a click. “Sorry about that,” you mutter. “I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”

When you chance a glance at him, he honestly looks a little offended but mostly just really sad. “Is- is that really what you think I think about this?” He asks softly. “Because it’s not. I absolutely want this. I absolutely want you. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for millenia and I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”

He reaches over and slowly, hesitantly, so as to give you time to escape if you want, gathers you into his arms. You realize that he’s the one who picked you up to bring you home. Your ear rests against his chest as lean against him, and his heart skips a beat as you gently grab one of his hands and kiss it. “I’m glad,” you breathe. “I’m glad too,” he voices softly.

You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from your journey home and the rest of the day hit you. He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “Sleep well, my cecilia, I’ll be here when the sun comes up and when you wake up.” You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.