#honestly maybe I’ll finally make a friend since none of the mutuals are into it and I want to scream about it

[philsmeatylegss]

Love going to a really small, left winged college with a big LGBT+ population. Just walked past a table in the main cafeteria to someone watching Dead Boy Detectoves on mobile

[wri0thesley]

i know we all love toji being nasty, but i'd love to see a (slightly) sweeter side of him and the reader as mamaguro, if possible?? maybe featuring the reader in his lap, the first time toji's ever really wanted to really do right by his partner... the ability of a man like him to have a softer side has plagued me ever since akutami said he mellowed out with his wife 😭

saying the important things - toji x fem!reader (2.1k)

toji’s not the kind of man who wears his heart on his sleeve. but he’ll try, for you. 

warnings: none! reader is mamaguro and uses fem pronouns, pregnancy is briefly talked about. this is just soft honestly

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Megumi is sleeping.

He lays in his crib, his chubby cheeks squished against the soft mattress, his hair dark and messy. At times like this, you can see so much of Toji in him, and it makes your heart ache. You can’t believe that you helped create something so perfect – from his tiny face, the tilt of his nose, the perfectly formed fingers and toes . . . You find it hard to believe that Megumi could really be yours.

“You’re starin’ at the kid again.”

Toji’s voice comes from behind you and startles you – you jump, guiltily turning to see your husband. His voice is dark and rough, but as you see him you realise that his face is anything but. Oh, sure – he has a scar bisecting the corner of his lip, muscles rippling out of a tight black shirt. But the look on his face is peaceful, and as he meets your eyes it just seems to fade into something even more so.

“You come stare at him,” you say, “you’ll understand why.”

He makes a little huff of amusement – but Toji Fushiguro is under your thumb, so he humours you by moving forward. Big arms wrap around your waist, making you feel safe and held in his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder, sharp green eyes on the messy-haired bundle of wonder sleeping in the crib that you’d watched Toji build with a screwdriver clenched between his teeth.

(“How hard can it be?” He’d asked you. “S’flat pack, right? Guys who aren’t half as smart as me do it--”. In the end, it had taken six and a half hours and Toji had had to physically pick you up and sit you down on a chair because you couldn’t stop bending down to help. He’d placed his hands on his hips and pointed an accusing finger at you. “You’re gonna get yourself stressed, sweetheart, and it isn’t gonna do any good for the kid.” You hadn’t expected Toji Fushiguro to be the over-protective kind . . . but you’d be lying if you said that his pout and furrowed eyebrows weren’t adorable).

Megumi’s eyes had turned the same shade of green as Toji’s around the five month mark, for the record.

“We did a good job, huh?” There’s a hint of pride in Toji’s voice that he does his best to dampen down – he’s trying to be cool, even now. Your hands come to rest over his own, where they’re clasped onto your hips.

“I think we did a great job,” you tell him, and snorts out a little laugh against your neck that tickles, making you bend back into sub-consciously. “No, really. I think he’ll fetch a high price on the black market. Look at all of that hair.”

“Takes after me,” Toji tells you. “I think I’d fetch a high price too.”

“You know you’d fetch a high price,” you say, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. You find yourself on your tip-toes just so you can feel a little closer to equal to him. “You’re a wanted man, Mr Fushiguro--”

“You’re a wanted woman, Mrs Fushiguro,” He says, bending his head – and his lips brush across yours, and you feel your entire body fill with the heady knowledge that he wants you. You know it – he makes it clear in the gentler way he holds you against him, his attempts to do chores around the house, the way his fingers entangle with yours when you’re out doing grocery shopping as a little family. But there’s something that you can’t quite express that feels all the more special about the embrace and the words when you two are on your own.

It hadn’t always been like this.

When you’d first met Toji, he’d been all dark flashing eyes and dangerous smile and tugging hands, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he flirted and charmed his way into your life. His voice had been dark and deep, he’d winked at you and made insinuations and insisted, occasionally, that this wasn’t a relationship so much as a mutually beneficial arrangement--

Until someone else had flirted with you in a club and Toji had grabbed your hand and pulled you into him, arm wrapping around your waist. Perhaps you’d been trying to make him jealous – you’d long ago accepted that your crush on Toji and desire to make him yours officially were going to come to a sticky end, seeing as he seemed to value his freedom so highly – but you hadn’t expected it to work.

He’d murmured into your neck that night that you were his, forever, and he never wanted to see someone else’s hands on you again--

“Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend, finally, then?” You’d asked, a hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the scar on his lip. Toji had grinned at you, dark and deep and dangerous but warmer than you’d ever seen it. He’d held you that night like he’d just realised how precious you were.

“Sweetheart,” he’d said to you in response. “Hell. Y’can call me your husband if you want.”

You had laughed and thought he was joking.

“Maybe I’ll try that after a proper proposal,” you’d said, tapping his nose. You’d expected him to grab your hand before you could make contact and pin you underneath him, tell you off for being so cheeky – but instead, the pad of your finger had made contact with it and you swore you’d seen a dark flush dust his high cheekbones.

You’d figured that was the end of it, until two weeks later he’d pulled out an expensive-looking ring whilst the two of you watched a movie.

“Well?” He’d asked you, looking almost uncomfortable – almost afraid that you might say ‘no’. “Whaddya say, angel? Gonna try callin’ me husband now?”

And you had.

He’d confessed everything to you before he’d asked about taking your name. His exact line of work, why he wanted to leave his old surname behind – and though you know you shouldn’t have, you’d simply taken it in stride. If this was what it took to have him, you would accept it; it had been too long, and you loved him too much, to simply walk away. You’d found out you were expecting Megumi six weeks before the small wedding and had told Toji immediately.

He’d seemed scared, but he’d seemed excited to – whirling you around like you weighed nothing before he anxiously put you back down and stepped back.

“That’s fine, right?” He’d asked. “I dunno much about kids. I haven’t hurt ‘em or anything, have I?”

He’d made a real effort around the house whilst you were incapacitated by your pregnancy, too – sometimes too much of one, as he batted away your attempts at cooking or cleaning with an insistent ‘I can do it, sweetheart!”. You’d let him make mistakes – honestly, a couple of disasters notwithstanding he’d made a decent effort.

You’re not afraid to leave Megumi alone with him, though Toji still hasn’t quite mastered the life skill of ‘talking to my baby as if he is my child and not simply a friend who I want to slightly intimidate’.

Sometimes you see Toji sat in an armchair with Megumi in his arms, a tiny hand wrapped around Toji’s massive thumb, and you think you could die from how much you love them both.

“C’mon,” Toji murmurs, breaking the kiss. “He’s fast asleep.”

You let yourself be dragged over to said armchair in the corner of the room, next to the little case of children’s books you and Toji had chosen for him

Megumi likes dogs; he claps his pudgy little hands together whenever one is introduced in the bright colours and flat pages. At nine and a half months, he had furrowed his little face and pronounced; “Gog. Goggy.”. Toji had grabbed the cheap camcorder that he’d been recording as many milestones as possible on and tried to bully Megumi into saying it again, but all of the footage he’d actually gotten was you laughing in the background as Megumi attempted to cross his chubby little arms and look at his father in disapproval. He had not said ‘goggy’ again until you had thoughtlessly picked up a little pair of black and white stuffed dogs whilst in a toy-shop with him to show him. Toji had had to go back to the shop ten minutes before closing to purchase them, and even now Megumi tucks them under his arms when you take him out in his pushchair.

You let yourself, too, be pulled into Toji’s lap as your husband gets comfortable, readjusting your body so he can wrap his arms around you and you can bury your face into his neck.

He smells like cigarettes and your laundry powder, familiar and comforting.

He takes a deep, pleased breath that makes the muscles in his throat ripple – you bring up a hand and trace them, fingertip lodging in the hollow of his throat for a moment before your hand moves down to rest over his clavicle, and then where his heart is beating steadily under his clothes and skin.

“You feelin’ me up, baby?” He asks with a smirk. “Y’can just ask, you know--”

“I’m feeling your heartbeat,” you say to him, listening to his pulse in his neck. “I think it might have stopped. We should look into it.” “Is this because I made that joke about the black market? Babe, you’d never let me fuckin’ sell our kid--” “Don’t swear around Megumi,” you say, automatically, your eyes swivelling to Megumi’s crib without moving your head from its comfortable position. “You’ll give him a dirty mouth.”

“You love my dirty mouth,” Toji purrs, the arm around your waist pulling you in tighter and closer. Heat rushes to your face and you give him a headbutt in the neck that’s half affectionate and half warning.

“Not now,” you say, sighing comfortably. Toji is warm and solid and always there for you. “I’m too comfy.”

“Ah, far be it for me to interrupt your nap-time,” he teases, but he pushes a kiss onto your forehead anyway. “Hell, I could go to sleep here myself. Nobody said havin’ a kid would be this much effort.”

“Everyone said it,” you say, stifling a yawn. “You just didn’t believe them.”

He snorts again.

“Y’got me there,” he says. “Wouldn’t change him for the world, though.”

“You’re just saying that because he takes after you,” you smile against his skin. “If he looked like me and acted like me, if he was sweet and demure--”

This gets another laugh from Toji, who knows exactly just how not sweet and not demure you can be.

“I’d love him even more, probably,” he says. “We’re gonna have some fuckin’ blow-ups in the future, sweetheart. Good job you’ll be around to sort out your men, right?”

The arm not about your waist moves so he can cup your face now, tip your chin up towards him. His eyes are still very sharp, but they’re softened with love as he looks down at you. Toji gives you these moments in the quiet of night – when he’s not formerly-of-the-Zenin-family, when he’s not the ‘Sorcerer Killer’, when he’s not an assassin-for-hire – when he’s just Toji Fushiguro, your husband and father of your child. You treasure every single one of them and hold them close to you like a precious pearl, stringing them onto a necklace of memories you’ll cling to forever.

“I’ll be around forever,” you tell him. “If I die, I’ll come back to haunt you and tell you what a shitty job you’re doing on the PTA.”

He snorts.

“Don’t even joke,” he tells you with a flickering smirk – but that smirk quickly drops away to be replaced with a look of intense solemnity. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Are you getting soft on me?” You ask, but the hand tipping your chin up does a little jerk.

“Please,” Toji says, a little softer now. “Let me tell you I love you and mean it.”

Sparks fly all through your stomach, your heart twisting in your ribcage. You rarely see this kind of gravitas on his face – he rarely takes this tone, almost needy as he implores you to listen.

“I love you too,” you breathe. “You know that.”

He pulls you into a kiss that knocks the breath out of you, that makes you feel like you and Toji and Megumi are the only real people on Earth and everyone else is an imitation.

“Yeah,” he says, gruff. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearin’ you say it, though.”

[moonbeam-writing]

Hi, could you make a Karma x Reader (she/her) Soulmate Au, in which Karma is in denial that the reader is his soulmate but gets heavily jealous and clingy when she shows any liking to anyone other then him but the reader is completely oblivious to all of this because she doesn’t even know that they’re soulmates. (P.s. love your stuff. If this is too much you can ignore it)

— Denial

๑ Requested by a lovely Anon!

๑ Characters: Karma Akabane (Assassination Classroom)

๑ Quick Note: Thank you so much for the request, dear! And I promise, it wasn’t too much, like, at all. Honestly, more descriptive requests are super helpful, so thank you!

๑ Warnings: None!

๑ Word Count: 1,063

---

Karma fought the urge to frown at seeing his soulmate with another person. It would be one thing if she knew how Karma felt, but she didn’t, making his current situation worse. Karma had never been able to handle things that bothered him that he could have prevented. Especially not after being teased by Koro-Sensei after he let his ego get the best of him, but he wasn’t about to dwell on that of all things right now.

When Karma discovered that he and (Y/N) were soulmates, Karma couldn’t believe it. The tiny, mindless doodles that appeared on his arm almost put him into a state of shock, especially after realizing why they had looked so familiar. He had been seeing her mindlessly scribble on most available and safe spaces for years; there was no way he wouldn’t recognize them. That being said, there was no way he could believe or accept that (Y/N) (L/N) was his soulmate; there was no way.

His denial was rather deep rooted. On one hand, Karma just couldn’t believe she was his soulmate, let alone that he had a soulmate at all. They were just opposites enough to be good friends, but not a pair that anyone could see working romantically. On the other hand, however, some little part in his mind figured that everyone needed someone. The more he thought about it, the more of a headache it gave him, much like the current situation the Akabane boy found himself in.

Karma hated feeling jealous when it came to (Y/N); despite being soulmates, she wasn’t “his” and even then, (Y/N) was her own person and she made sure that everyone knew it. Granted, the two had only acknowledged the fact that they were soulmates on a surface level basis; they knew and that was pretty much that. (Y/N) had admitted her feelings to him, sure, but she also said that they could take things at his speed. (Y/N) was just glad that she had Karma in her life; soulmates weren’t always romantic, anyway. She made sure that Karma kept that in mind.

It was enough to make Karma swoon. Not that he would, but it definitely made him feel like he could. (Y/N) just cared so much about him and it made him feel so special. Karma couldn’t fathom how on Earth he got lucky enough to have (Y/N) as his soulmate. He just couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

He watched as a classmate occupied (Y/N)’s attention with who knows what and grabbed a fine tip marker from his pocket. He desperately wanted the girl’s attention, but it felt weird to him considering their current position. He hated feeling like things had changed between them, especially since the logical part of his brain was very aware that nothing had really changed at all.

Karma saw the little wiggle her wrist did when she felt the words pop up and held back a laugh. She wasn’t as used to it as he was by this point. He had written a small note that told her he had important news and from the moment he started writing, his stomach felt like it dropped. Karma watched (Y/N) politely excuse herself from the conversation she was stuck in and start walking his way.

“Hey, Karma.” Though Karma loved her smile, it seemed to just make him a bit more nervous. “Should I be scared about this news? Because I can never be too sure with you, haha.” Her slight teasing only added to his swarming thoughts.

“No, not this time.” Karma forced a small wink. “Any chance that guy asked you out, because that would totally screw this up.” Asking that question messed up Karma’s original plan of just jumping into what he wanted to say, but he knew it was too late to take back what he said.

(Y/N) raised a confused eyebrow. “He didn’t, no. Even if he did, I would have turned him down. Are you doing okay?”

“Of course I am!” Karma’s natural confidence, or rather cockiness, came back in what felt like full force. He had no idea what was going on. “Anyway, I know I said that this was important, so I’ll try to make it quick.” Everyone was starting to clear out of the classroom and Karma was almost positive that (Y/N) had something to do.

“Okay, shoot.”

It was now or never, and Karma was starting to wish that it was never. “So, the soulmate thing,” he started. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately, and seeing you with other people finally knocked some sense into me. I, uh, our feelings towards each other are mutual. Assuming you still like me romantically, that is. After a few months of watching people actively try to grab your attention, I totally get it if you want our bond to stay platonic.” Karma felt like he needed to hide due to embarrassment. He’d never hated himself more and he couldn’t bring himself to even meet her eyes.

(Y/N)’s soft laughter reached Karma’s ears and only then did he look at her. Her laugh was free from any kind of malice and he couldn’t help but feel relieved. 

“Any chance you might have been a bit jealous, Karma?” This was probably the most smug Karma had ever seen her and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

“Never.” He immediately answered. His tone may have been confident, but the red at the tips of his ears gave him away. “I never get jealous.” He saw (Y/N) roll her eyes, but ignored it. “That being said, I love you and still want you in my life, no matter which way you’re stuck with me.”

“You’re right; I would be stuck with you, but I love you too. Figured you would have figured that out by the ‘I would have turned him down’ statement, but I’ll take what I can get.” (Y/N)’s tone was teasing once again as she reached for his hand like she had done hundreds of times before.

“I may not have been jealous like you think I was,” Karma teased back, “but I can admit that I was nervous.” He paused for a moment. “And maybe kind of in denial for a bit.”

[babyboibucky]

Elevate Thy Hate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Not a day goes by that you and Bucky don’t argue.

Word Count: 4,642

Warnings: Cliché plot but slight angst, self-doubt and Bucky being a loveable idiot who sucks at communicating

A/N: Surprise one-shot because I just remembered I wrote this like...last year lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

You woke up feeling great and excited. The mission was finally finished, debriefings were done and reports have been submitted. Everyone was given an entire week to get some rest and since rest days were pretty rare, you truly looked forward to this day.

Before you could even saunter in the kitchen, you had already heard the chatters from your fellow Avengers. One particular voice irked you though but hell no, you weren’t going to let one Bucky Barnes ruin your day.

A chorus of good mornings greeted you as soon as you walked into the kitchen. Nat and Steve were on one side of the counter sipping their coffee while Sam and Wanda were finishing up their food. Tony and Bruce were out of sight, probably holed up in the lab doing experiments as usual. Bucky didn’t acknowledge you and quickly headed out of the kitchen, thankfully. You weren’t in the mood to pick a fight.

Walking up to the cupboards, you quickly grabbed you favorite cereal and proceeded to pour it out on your bowl. None came out though. You peeked inside bag and saw that only crumbs of it were left.

“Who the—“

Everyone was already pointing at Bucky when you turned around to ask. And of course, Bucky did it on purpose because he stood there at the end of the hallway, watching you with smug grin on his face.

“I hope your day sucks.” He said and flipped you the bird before turning around to walk away.

You groaned out loud, ignoring the amused chuckles from everyone else in the kitchen.

“I’m not stooping down to your level, asshole! I hope your day is average!”

The day was fortunately uneventful, except for your ruined breakfast care of Bucky. You were determined not to let that annoy you for the rest of the day. So far, so good. You could only wish it’d continue that way for the rest of the week.

-

“I told you not to rush!” Bucky snapped.

“I had him already! If you didn’t throw that goddamn smoke grenade I would’ve killed him!” You explained.

You could see Sam shaking his head in frustration. Bucky always had to blame something on you even though you weren’t the one at fault.

Bucky snorted, “He had a sniper for fuck’s sake! One shot and you’re dead.”

“Oh wow, says the one who got shot before I did.” You rolled your eyes at Bucky.

The two of you continued to bicker until Nat and Steve walked into the living room looking confused as you and Bucky exchanged insults while Sam remained sandwiched between the both of you on the couch.

“Who got shot?” Steve asked, glancing at you and Bucky alternately.

“Did we miss out on a mission or...?” Nat continued.

Sam chuckled, “We were playing Call of Duty and we lost.” He explained, taking the opportunity to get up from the sofa.

Steve still looked lost, something that Nat immediately picked up. “It’s a video game.” She explained.

“You two are fighting over a game?” He asked you and Bucky.

“They fight over everything.” Nat shrugged and walked out of the room with Sam tagging behind her.

“I’m outta here too, I’m so done babysitting the kids.” He muttered under his breath.

-

It was past midnight when you were in the living room alone, watching television while eating a Whopper. The lights were turned off and it was absolutely quiet in the compound, setting the perfect ambience for the crime documentary you were watching.

Not long after, you heard someone walk into the living room. It was only when your heard the familiar grunt that you realized who it was. Of course, it had to be Bucky.

“Are you eating a burger?” He asked incredulously.

“No, it’s popcorn. Of course it’s a fucking burger, are you blind or just dumb?” You snapped, your eyes still glued on the television.

“Dumbfounded that you’re eating that at this hour. No wonder you suck at cardio.” Bucky said as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“Are you body-shaming me?” You gasped.

Bucky snickered, “I didn’t say anything, I just said you suck at cardio.” He said, not looking at you.

You chose to ignore him and brought your attention back to the television. It was quiet for moment. You almost forgot about Bucky’s presence until of course, he decided to annoy you yet again.

“Can you pass the remote?” Bucky asked monotonously.

“No.”

Silence.

“This show sucks.” He commented.

You were focused on the show but noticed that Bucky was staring at you.

“Can you please pass the remote?” He asked again.

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m watching. I was here first. I hold the rights to control the remote.” You deadpanned, refusing to look at him.

There was a flash of black and gold right before your eyes. Everything happened quickly and the next thing you knew, Bucky was hovering above you, trapping you between his body and the arm rest of the sofa.

“The fuck, Barnes?! Get off of me!” You protested and started pushing him away.

“You gotta work on your reflexes, darling.” He said, finally leaning away from you, remote now in his hand.

He grinned triumphantly and switched the channel before placing the remote inside his sweatpants, “Want to switch the channel? Come and get it.” he taunted as he leaned back on the couch, opening his legs wide as he showed off how the remote created a tent in his sweatpants.

That was the remote...right? You mentally slapped yourself for actually thinking about what Bucky was packing beneath those pants and frowned.

“You’re an asshole and a disgusting one.” You told him.

“God, I hate you.” You muttered and crumpled the wrapper of your burger before throwing it at Bucky.

Deciding that you didn’t want to argue any further, you got up and left the living room, but not without telling Bucky again how much you hated him for making your life miserable.

“The feeling is mutual.” You heard him say.

-

The petty fights with Bucky went on and on during that entire week of rest. Despite the arguments, there were small moments of kindness shared between you and the soldier.

“Where are you going dressed up so nicely?” You asked Bucky upon seeing him walk into the kitchen wearing a leather jacket on top of a black shirt, dark, tight-fitting jeans and a pair of Doc Martens.

It was meant as an insult, of course. You took every opportunity to tease Bucky and his newfound sense of fashion. Said fashion meant his taste for very millennial outfits despite his old age.

“Grocery.” He replied as he went over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water.

“Ooh, can you buy me Starbucks on your way back? I’ll pay.” You asked kindly.

Bucky just stared at you as he drank from his glass of water. He slammed it on the counter before walking past you.

“Not a damn chance.”

He did buy you Starbucks though. It didn’t shock you that much considering that the both of you didn’t hate on each other all the damn time. But what surprised you was that he brought you your usual drink and your favorite pastry too.

Steve must have forced him to do so, probably told his best friend your usual orders as well so you made a note to thank him as soon as they got back.

And thank Steve you did, but you didn’t expect the reply that you got.

“Oh was that the reason why Bucky kept bugging me about stopping by Starbucks?” Steve asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you mean? I thought he told you I asked him to buy me Starbucks.”

Steve chuckled, “I guess now I know why he wouldn’t shut up about it.” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

“I don’t understand, Cap.” you said.

Steve just smiled at you in response before squeezing your shoulder, “Maybe you will understand soon.”

And with that, he left you feeling even more confused. You honestly didn’t understand the context of the conversation so you decided to just ignore it. Steve sometimes would say weird shit that none of the Avengers knew about. You dismissed it and thought that maybe it was Steve being a decade old, it was probably an old man thing.

You decided to make coffee for Bucky the following day, as a simple gesture to thank him for the Starbucks. He didn’t ask you to pay him back so you felt obligated to do a little something for him. You were an asshole to him sometimes, yes, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to give credit where credit is due.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really hate Bucky. If you did actually hate him, the entire team would probably do something about it. Maybe force the two of you to talk things out. The hatred was all fun and games, everyone seemed to be amused by it too.

You still considered Bucky your friend despite the constant bickering. You had to admit, the arguments were pretty fun.

Although, you were wondering whether Bucky felt the same about considering you as his friend. Sometimes, his attitude towards you confused the hell out of you.

One day he’d eat the chocolate you’ve been saving up for cheat day just to spite you. And it definitely did because you ended up cursing him out loud when you saw him munching on it. The next day he brought you a new one. You were watching Netflix when he waltzed into the living room and threw a bar of chocolate at your lap before walking out without saying a word.

These exchange of small yet kind (and confusing) gestures remained unacknowledged. You didn’t know why but you also didn’t feel the need to talk about them. You weren’t going to lie but Bucky’s random acts of kindness would always put a smile on your face.

-

The vacation unfortunately came to an end and everyone had to go back to saving the world. All of you were gathered in the conference room with Fury for a briefing about the next mission. It wasn’t as big as the last one but it still required a lot of planning.

After explaining the mission, Fury let Steve take over the meeting to strategize.

Some were assigned to do surveillance around the parameter while some were appointed to do all the groundwork. Steve of course, just had to partner you with Bucky to do the actual infiltration given that your skills complemented each other’s.

You grinned and was prepared to roast Bucky’s ass when you turned to him and was met with a scowl. He shook his head with what you assumed was disappointment and turned away from you.

It was the first time he ever dismissed you like that. Sure, you were rude to each other but the look that Bucky gave you wasn’t a teasing one. He wasn’t mocking you nor frustrated. Bucky seemed to really hate the idea of being partnered with you. It was the first time that the two of you had to work together without anyone else. Usually, Steve or Sam joined but for this mission, it was just you and Bucky. Concluding that he must have woken up at the wrong side of the bed, you chose to ignore your gut feeling and focused back to Steve.

After the meeting, everyone else exited the room and started with the preparations for the mission. As you walked down the hallway leading to your bedroom, you heard some soft chattering coming from Steve’s bedroom.

You were supposed to ignore it until you heard your name, making you stop in your tracks.

“I can’t be partnered with her, Steve.”

Bucky.

“Buck, just go with it. I can’t be changing assignments at the last minute.” Steve explained.

Bucky sighed, “You know I can’t function properly when she’s around, let alone be partnered with her. She distracts me, Steve. Her skills distract me and I swear on our friendship, I would end up dying on this assignment.”

“You’re being overly dramatic, Buck. Just suck it up, pal. Do the mission and get it over with.”

“Steve, you don’t understand. I really can’t deal with her. Especially if it’s just the two of us. You know how much I fucking—“

“Hate me?”

You couldn’t help but interject in their conversation. How could you not? Bucky was complaining about how he couldn’t deal with you. It really hurt hearing Bucky say all those things about you. Sure, you were somewhat new to the team and you didn’t have superpowers nor years of training like the rest. But you worked your ass off to be in this position. And for him to say that he couldn’t function with you being around struck a nerve. The last thing on your mind was to hold back your teammates, that’s why you train twice, thrice as hard.

Steve and Bucky stared at you as if they’ve seen a ghost. It’s as if all their blood was drained out of their body when they saw you step inside the room. Bucky was about to say something but you decided to cut him off, not wanting to hear more about how he doesn’t want to be partnered with you.

“We don’t get along that well, I get that. But I honestly thought that our arguments were harmless. Hell, I consider us friends. I didn’t think that you actually hated me.” Your voice quivered because you were truly, deeply hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky insisted.

“You literally said that you might end up dying because of being partnered with me, Bucky! Look, I know that I don’t have a super serum running through my veins. I can’t move things with my mind and I can’t come up with life-changing tech. I wasn’t trained since childhood nor have the perfect aim. But I worked hard to be in this team. I trained hard not to be a burden to anyone and I’m sorry if my skills aren’t up to your standards.”

What did you even do to Bucky for him to hate you this much?

“Don’t worry, I won’t burden you. Once this mission is over, I won’t bother you anymore. Ever.” You said before walking out of the way, ignoring Bucky when he had repeatedly called your name.

-

The ride to the location was filled with tension. Although everyone else had no idea what happened, they somehow knew that the tension had something to do with you and Bucky.

Thankfully, the quinjet was big enough for you not to end up sitting beside Bucky.

“You okay?” Wanda asked, noticing how restless you were.

What you heard definitely affected you in more ways than one. You kept on double checking your weapons, your gadgets and you even ended up doubting yourself. Were you really equipped to be an Avenger? Steve said that Bucky was merely overacting but what if he was right? What if you weren’t skilled enough to protect him or your teammates?

“That’s not true.” Wanda said out of the blue. “I didn’t mean to read your mind, though. Your thoughts are coming off too strong, kinda hard to ignore.” She said apologetically.

You softly laughed, “I should really be staying away from you.” You joked.

Wanda smiled and placed her hand on top of yours, “I mean it though. You’re amazing at what you do. I don’t understand why you’re doubting yourself about being an Avenger.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you offered Wanda a grateful smile. You noticed that Bucky had been staring at you the entire time but simply ignored him. You weren’t going to let him snap you out of your focus.

-

Once on location, everyone started to split up and listened for Steve’s orders through the comms. You and Bucky managed to get inside the base, all thanks to Nat and the Hulk who handled all the guards.

The building was completely empty when the two of you walked around in search of the hidden quarters where all the intel were kept.

Bucky whistled to get your attention, you turned and saw that he was motioning towards what seemed to be a regular brick wall. However, there were a few bricks out of place and upon examining it, you realized it was some sort of a secret door. You managed to figure out which bricks to push and thankfully, it didn’t take you long enough to open the door which revealed an old, steel elevator.

“We found the entrance, Steve.” Bucky said into the comms.

“Careful in there, there were suspiciously a few guards within the parameters. They all might be in there.” Nat warned.

You heaved out a deep breath before stepping into the elevator with Bucky trailing behind you. There was only one button in the elevator, a red one.

“Can someone scan the elevator and make sure this button won’t set off any boobie trap or something?” You asked nervously as you inspected the elevator for any hidden traps.

The comms cracked with Sam’s voice. “Button is safe although...” he trailed.

“Although what?” Bucky asked, examining the elevator as well.

“You’re in for a long ride.”

You frowned, “How long?” You asked.

“Can’t see. It’s way too deep.”

Sam was able to scan the entire base and true enough, the elevator would lead deep down into the hidden laboratory. How deep into the ground it was, none could tell. Neither Sam nor Tony’s technology could see through due to the lack of signal. Steve said it might be dangerous to proceed given that there were no other ways into the lab except for the elevator.

The lack of signal down there meant no communication.

“Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue with this mission.” Steve said.

“But we’re so close, Steve.” You said.

“I think Steve is right. It’d be hard to call for back up when things go south.” Bucky interjected, not even sparing you a glance.

You snorted. Bucky sure wasn’t overacting when he was complaining about your skills. He definitely didn’t trust you. You weren’t going to settle for that.

“We won’t need any back up.”

And with that, you pressed the red button and completely ignored everyone’s warnings through the comms. Bucky looked at you with disbelief and tried to press the red button again in hopes of halting the elevator. However, the brick wall had closed and the elevator started its descent.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He yelled and tried to search the elevator for some sort of stop button.

“We’ll follow soon!” Steve’s voice was the last you heard before your comms completely lost its signal.

“Christ, we don’t even know whether it’s the lab that’s down there!” Bucky said, continuing his search for anything that would bring the both of you up to the ground floor.

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am. All secret doors lead to a top secret room and no, we won’t be needing any back up because I am totally capable of taking down anyone who gets in the way.” You stubbornly replied and leaned against the wall.

You wondered how long the elevator ride was going to be. At the speed that it’s going, it wasn’t impossible to take at least fifteen to twenty minutes if the lab was really far down into the ground. Bucky’s frustration was evident from the way he kept on inspecting the elevator walls. At first it was easy to ignore but Bucky was becoming more and more desperate to find a way to go back up.

“Your desperation to stay away from me is just...astounding.” You said with a bitter chuckle.

“I’m finding a way to get out of here, not away from you.” Bucky explained calmly.

You shook your head, “You don’t trust me to keep you alive, I get it. But can you tone it down even for just a bit?” You spat at him.

Bucky pressed the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh, “You don’t need to keep me alive.”

“Of course not, you don’t need me to do so ‘cause you’re so capable. How did I not think of that?” At this point, you couldn’t stop the word vomit.

You had tons of things to say to Bucky to prove to him that you were totally good at what you do, that he didn’t need to underestimate you just because you were a new addition to the team.

“That’s not what I mean.” Bucky explained again.

It was starting to annoy you that the more you were becoming agitated, the calmer he was becoming. And he kept on telling you that he meant differently with his statements but he never really attempted to further explain his side.

“Then what do you mean, Bucky?” You pressed. “What did I ever do to you for you to hate me this much? Did I say something offensive? Do I have to train 24/7 for you to think that I deserve to be working alongside the Avengers?” You kept on babbling on and on and on.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand, “I don’t hate you, okay?” He doesn’t even spare you a look.

All this time, he was looking at anything but you and it was really getting on your nerves.

“See? You keep on telling me that you don’t hate me but you can’t even look at me! I mean, if you really loathe me then own up to it! It hurts me more that you keep on denying it when you can’t even explain a damn thing. At least tell me why!” You were never an emotional person and Bucky knew that, so when he finally turned to look at you, he was surprised to see you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey...” Bucky coaxed and tried to hold you but you stepped away from him.

“Just please tell me why, Buck. Tell me and I promise to stay away. If you think I suck at being an Avenger to the point of irritating you, tell me so I can train my fucking ass off until you deem me fit to be an Avenger. If my jokes offended you, I’m sorry. If I—“

“It’s because I like you.”

“...what?”

Bucky Barnes...likes you? It’s as if the silence went on forever inside the elevator that seemed to keep going. How long were the two of you inside it anyway? You couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t know whether Bucky was simply fooling around with you.

“That’s not funny.” You said.

Bucky shook his head, “It’s not a joke.”

You stared at him doubtfully, “Explain.” You demanded.

Bucky licked his lips and let out a soft chuckle, “I’m an idiot.” He said.

“That doesn’t explain anything. If any, I’d think you’re simply fucking with me.” You pointed out and crossed your arms over your chest.

That seemed to urge Bucky to finally explain. “What you heard in Steve’s room was correct.”

“So you really hate me.”

Bucky groaned, “Let me finish, please?” He pleaded. When you remained silent, he continued to explain himself.

“You really do distract me during missions. Because you’re so amazing and I never doubted your skills. But I also get worried and I hate it when I see you in pain or wounded and it fucking distracts me. I didn’t want to be partnered with you because when I see you, I just...fuck. I like you that much. You kick someone’s ass and I’d end up watching you with awe that it’d cause me my own demise. That’s what I meant. That I’d probably end up dying because whenever you’re around, you have my full attention.”

The anger within you dissipated just like that. You could feel your face heat up from Bucky’s unexpected confession.

“But you’re an asshole to me.” You pointed out.

Bucky laughed, “Because that’s how I get your attention. You walk into a room with a kind-hearted super soldier, a witty bird brain and a few more intelligent men and yet I’d be the first one you’d acknowledge. With a snarky comment but still, attention is attention. It’s the only way I get to interact with you without feeling awkward. I suck at conversations, I mean, you heard me and though I was hating on you when I was merely blabbering to Steve about how much I like you.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. All along, Bucky was finding a way to talk to you even though it meant constant arguments over the pettiest things. To be fair though, he really did suck at communicating.

“I’m sorry that it came across like that.” Bucky apologized sincerely. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.” He admitted.

You shrugged, “Oh but it does. In fact, it changes everything.”

Bucky’s face fell.

“Because I think I like you too and I kinda want for things to change. For the better of course.” You grinned.

Bucky chuckled and scratched his forehead bashfully, “You think, huh? Not sure?” He asked and turned to you just as the elevator doors opened.

Indeed, it led to the lab where almost all of the targets stayed. The man nearest the elevator had his gun pointed at Bucky but before he could even pull the trigger, Bucky had thrown his knife at him without even sparing a glance and choked the next guy to attack with his metal arm before throwing him towards a group of armed men. He was just gazing at you with a smittened smile.

“Still not sure about liking me back?”

Impressed at his gesture, you smirked.

“Now I am.”

-

By the time Steve, Nat and Sam walked out of the elevator, the mission had already been done. You walked towards the trio and handed Steve a USB.

“All their data is already saved there. Wiped out their entire system clean too.” You told him, voice chirpy and all.

Bucky was right behind you, a couple of folders in his hands before handing them to Sam, “Lotsa confidential info in there too which includes our next targets.” he said and walked past Sam with a certain jump in his steps.

The three exchanged glances before looking around the entire lab. Men were scattered on the floor, most were dead and others heavily injured.

“What the hell happened here?” Nat asked, avoiding the injured men on the ground as she walked around.

“The mission happened, Nat. All that matters now is that everything has been resolved. I mean, everything.” You said meaningfully and threw Bucky a flirty smile before walking into the elevator.

He followed suit and saluted at the three before pushing the red button. The doors weren’t even closed yet when Bucky couldn’t hold back and quickly leaned to press a soft kiss on your lips. An action that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the three. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you noticed their reactions before the elevator closed.

Said trio stood there dumbfounded and confused as hell. Early on, the tension between you and Bucky was felt by everyone. The kind of tension then wasn’t even a sexual one. It was so intense that Nat was actually expecting to see you and Bucky at each other’s throats when they got down to the lab.

“Guess that the long ass elevator ride did something. Whatever was in that elevator seems interesting. Wanna go check it out, Nat?” Sam asked suggestively.

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

Nat simply smirked and walked past Sam, “In your dreams, Wilson.”

-

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[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​

[queenshelby]

Conflicts (Just Friends Part 6) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 3518

Driving Home

The next morning it was time for you to make your way back home to Dublin. You had another few days of annual leave but your grandmother was scheduled to drop Max off at your house the following morning after his trip with her to Galway.

Whilst you enjoyed your time alone with Cillian, you did miss your son Max terribly and couldn’t wait to see him.

Cillian had been rather quiet since last night, ever since he made the phone call, and you were somewhat concerned.

He didn’t want to talk about it and you thought it to be appropriate to give him some space. Surely, he would come around once he was ready.

During the car drive you talked about the boys and school and things you had planned for the upcoming week but Cillian’s mood seemed somewhat low.

‘Are you sure that you are ok?’ you asked.

‘Yes, my mind has just been somewhere else. Sorry’ he responded.

‘And where has it been?’ you asked.

‘Work’ Cillian said.

‘Alright’ you said. You could tell that he really didn’t want to talk about it.

‘Filming starts again in six weeks and I’ll be gone for a while’ Cillian said as he placed his hand onto yours.

‘For how long?’ you asked.

‘4 months, but I’ll come back to Dublin for a week in between’ Cillian said. ‘And maybe you can visit me?’ Cillian asked.

‘I would love to visit you, if you want me to’ you said.

‘Of course, I do’ Cillian said with a smile on his face.

As you were still driving back to Dublin, Cillian received another two phone calls from someone called Sarah. He didn’t answer but rather sighed with annoyance when he saw the call come up on the dashboard of his car.

‘You can answer it if you like’ you said, curious about who Sarah was.

‘I rather not’ Cillian sighed.

‘Alright then’ you said, an awkward silence erupting between you and Cillian which lasted until the moment Cillian pulled up in front of your house.

Just as the car stopped, you collected your thoughts. You really didn’t want to have your first possibly about nothing.

‘Thank you for the amazing weekend’ you said before kissing Cillian gently.

‘I love you’ he said in response, caressing your face.

‘I love you too. Will I see you tonight?’ you asked.

‘Of course, I will be around at 6’ Cillian said before giving you another kiss and driving off.

Who is Sarah?

After you unpacked your clothes and had some time to do some household chores, the doorbell rang.

You almost forgot that you had a coffee date with your and Cillian’s mutual friend Leah that afternoon.

As you opened the door it was pouring rain again and Leah was rather soaked. You offered her some dry clothes of yourself, which she gladly accepted, and boiled the kettle for some tea.

After Leah had time to get changed into your clothes, you both sat down at the kitchen table.

‘So, how was your time with Cillian?’ Leah asked. ‘You know, I really didn’t expect you two to get involved with each other’ she added.

‘Why is that?’ you said as you sipped on your tea.

‘I don’t know, I just didn’t see it coming. You make a cute couple though’ Leah said.

‘I suppose’ you said, looking down on your cup.

‘You suppose? Did you guys have a fight or something?’ Leah asked.

‘No, it’s just…’ you said before discontinuing your sentence.

‘It’s just what?’ Leah asked.

‘He received a few phone calls last night and this morning and he’s been really quiet since. I suppose I am just a bit worried’ you explained.

‘Phone calls from whom?’ Leah asked.

‘Someone called Sarah’ you said, causing Leah to choke on her biscuit.

‘I am not surprised then. Sarah is his ex’ Leah explained.

‘I thought his ex-wife’s name is Natalie?’ you asked surprised as you recalled having met her once at a BBQ when she dropped off the boys. She had remarried and was there with her new husband.

‘Not his ex-wife, his ex-girlfriend. They broke up five months ago but they still work together on Peaky Blinders, which might be a bit of an issue’ Leah explained.

‘Right’ you said with worry, remembering what Cillian had told you in the car. He was going back to filming in 6 weeks.

‘You honestly don’t need to worry about her Y/N. It was Cillian who ended it. Although I don’t know why he would even bother picking up her calls’ Leah explained.

‘I suppose my self esteem has taken a bit of a hit since these comments on Twitter so I worry about stupid things’ you said.

‘I think you need to stay of social media Y/N’ Leah said before changing the topic to a more pleasurable conversation.

Leah had recently found out that she was pregnant and was excited to add to her family with a third child.

After talking about kids, setting up nurseries and so forth, Leah asked you whether you had discussed this topic with Cillian.

‘Jesus, we’ve only just started dating. Despite, we have three kids between the two of us, that’s plenty’ you laughed, causing Leah to laugh as well.

After Leah went on to discuss schooling for her eldest son, you recalled that you did, in fact, have this conversation with Cillian but before you were dating.  

You remembered him telling you that he was done with having children. He did not want any more but rather wanted to concentrate on bringing up the boys in the best possible way.

You also recalled him mentioning to you that this was a cause of conflict between him and his ex-girlfriend and you began to wonder whether this had anything to do with their breakup.

Trying not to ponder on about this too much, you caught up on the conversation you had with Leah about schooling.

You couldn’t even put your mind at the possibility of Max attending school any time soon but the truth was that it was only a year away.

After two hours had passed, you had to say goodbye to your friend Leah. After all, you had a date with your boyfriend that evening.

Date Night

Your plan was to cook for him and surprise him wearing some nice lingerie.

You weren’t really a good cook but decided to give it a crack anyway and make lasagne.

After you prepared the lasagne and put it in the oven, you had a shower, put on some make up and done up your hair.

You put on black lace lingerie with stunning satin stockings which were affixed to your waist.

Just as you finished the final touches, the doorbell rang.

‘Hi babe’ you said as you opened the door.

‘Fuck’ Cillian said in response, gazing over you in your black lingerie.

‘Hey, this is no way to speak to a lady’ you said, pulling him in for a kiss.

‘You look incredibly sexy in this’ Cillian said with wide eyes.

‘I know’ you smirked. ‘Common in before the neighbours see me like this’ you added.

‘Something smells…’ Cillian said as he walked inside and, as soon as he said this, you remembered the lasagne.

‘Burnt’ he added as he watched you race to the stove.

‘Goddammit’ you yelled as you opened the stove and took out the burnt lasagne in your sexy lace lingerie.

‘I wanted this to be perfect’ you said frustrated and upset, some tears running down your face, while Cillian looked around and saw that you had lid some candles and put on some slow jazz music.

‘Just being with you is perfect in itself’ Cillian said as he lifted up your chin with his thumb, gazing into your eyes before kissing you.

‘You are sweet Cillian’ you said, sinking into his arms.

‘Now do you want to tell me what’s really wrong, because you aren’t the type of woman who gets upset about some burnt lasagne’ Cillian asked as you walked over to the lounge and sat down.

‘The phone calls…You were so quiet after them and I know that it was your ex who rang. I couldn’t help but worry about whether you still have feelings for her. I mean, why did you even call her back?’ you said.

‘I can assure you that I don’t have feelings for her Y/N. In fact, I broke up with her because I didn’t love her and I felt as though I was wasting her time. She wanted children and marriage, none of which I was prepared to give her, so what’s the point?’ Cillian said.

‘So why didn’t you tell me?’ you asked.

‘Because I still have to work with her and because I fucked up, a few months ago. Even though this all happened before you and me got together, I had to think of a way to talk with you about this’ Cillian said.

‘You fucked up in which way?’ you asked.

‘We slept with each other. We both had too much to drink and it was a mistake’ Cillian said.

‘Cillian, Jesus’ you said annoyed.

‘She wanted to give it another try and I told her that I wasn’t ready for another relationship and, well, then I fell in love with you which doesn’t look very good now does it? So, I called her back that evening because I thought that I owe her at least an explanation’ Cillian said.

‘I love you Y/N. I never planned to fall in love with you, but I did’ he added.

‘Well, I can’t really be upset about a woman you’ve been with before me. But I don’t like the fact that you will be working with her again soon’ you said.

‘Neither do I, trust me’ Cillian said.

‘When you film, do you have any intimate scenes with her?’ you asked concerned.

‘One I think’ Cillian responded, causing your heart to drop and tears building up in your eyes again.

‘It doesn’t mean anything Y/N. It’s just acting’ Cillian said as he cupped your face.

‘It does to her’ you said.

‘But it doesn’t to me. I love you, not her, alright?’ Cillian said, causing you to nod.

‘In fact, I fell in love with you after our first night together, although I didn’t want to admit it to myself’ he added.

‘So did I’ you said before climbing across Cillian’s lap, facing him and pressing your lips onto his.

As you were exchanging passionate kisses, you rocked back and forward on top of him and began running your hands over your breasts suggestively.

‘This is very nice lingerie’ Cillian said as he couldn’t keep his eyes of your breasts.

‘Perhaps I should visit you on set one day, wearing this beneath my clothes and let Thomas Shelby have his way with me?’ you smirked jokingly, causing Cillian to laugh.

You had only recently began to watch Peaky Blinders and could certainly understand the fascination other women had with Tommy Shelby.

‘That could be arranged’ Cillian said as, suddenly, you found yourself beneath Cillian on the sofa.

Within seconds, his t-shirt fell to the floor, shortly followed by his jeans, leaving him in nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs.

‘Should we take this to the bedroom?’ Cillian asked between gentle kisses while he was running his hands over your breasts.

‘No’ you said as you pushed backwards a little, making him sit up.

‘Watch’ you said just as you stood up in front of him, beginning to touch your breasts and then slipping your hand into your panties.

Cillian’s eyes were on you, full of excitement, while his erection pushed against his briefs.

You seductively removed your bra and began playing with your nipples.

You could see in Cillian’s face that he wanted to touch you badly. He was desperate to feel your skin.

Just as reached his hand out towards you, you grabbed a pillow from the lounge and threw onto the floor in front of him.

Without words, you kneeled in front of him, right in between his legs. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down and exposing his hard cock.

No time was wasted until you lowered your head and, while your hand held onto his thick shaft, your tongue licked the precum from the tip of his cock.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as your mobile tongue slid over the length of his cock front and back before returning to the very tip, feeling him cringe and hearing him moan.

Your lips closed over the head of his cook and you began to slide your mouth up and down the smooth, sweet tasting skin of his shaft, loving the flavour of his pre-cum.

Meanwhile your tongue continued to swirl across his sensitive head and your hand pumped him while the other gripped his ass cheek, holding him in position.

Cillian gasped and moaned as he could feel every inch of your tongue lapping his head.

After about 10 minutes, it became more difficult for Cillian to hold back and he tried to look at the ceiling rather than you.

Another 5 minutes and this strategy was no longer working either.

‘Fuck Y/N, you need to stop’ Cillian said.

Giving him your most slutty look and not breaking eye contact, you slid your lips slowly down his length and back up, moaning around his thickness.

‘I want you to come in my mouth’ you said eagerly in between your movements. Up and down, making the most exquisite noises.

‘Oh God!’ Cillian cried, throwing back his head.

Shortly thereafter, you saw his knuckles go white with how hard he gripped to the blanket covering the lounge beneath him. Then, in what seemed like slow motion, you felt him spasm and the creeping approach of his cum up his cock.

With one loud moan, he filled your mouth with his sweet cum, the first bit of which almost instantly hit the back of your throat.

There was a fair bit more than you had expected but you managed not to spill a single drop.

‘Fuck’ Cillian shuttered as he came down from his high while starring at you, licking your lips seductively.

After you took a sip of your wine, you joined him back on the lounge, exchanging a passionate kiss.

‘Lie down’ Cillian whispered just as your lips drifted apart and he gently pushed your back into the lounge before taking his position in between your legs.

He pulled your lace panties down gently and placed your legs over his shoulders.

Cillian’s eyes were fixed on the junction between your thighs as he slid his head back down in between them.

As you felt his hot breath on your already wet entrance you couldn’t help it but moan.

His hands brushed over the lace tops of your stockings then the soft milky skin of your inner thighs just before you could feel his wet tongue run over your slit gently.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned as his tongue entered you slightly while he pushed your thighs back tilting your bum towards him.

His tongue dipped in and out of you before it made its way to your already engorged clit, drawing circles over it.

For a moment you couldn’t help but arch your back and push against him, but Cillian pushed you back down almost instantly before slipping two of his fingers inside of you.

You let out what sounded like squirrel as his fingers arched upwards and hit your g-spot. He was the first man to have found this spot and you struggled with the intensity of the feeling when he stimulated it.

‘Just relax and let go’ Cillian instructed as he knew that, every time he reaches your sweet spot, you tense up.

You took a deep breath and let yourself get lost in the moment. His fingers thrusted in and out of you, continuously hitting this sweet spot of you, while his tongue continued to circle your clit.

You gasped loudly while you held onto the lounge and your body began to shudder beneath Cillian’s lips.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian slowed down his movements to let you come down from your high, his lips covered in your sweet juices.

‘You are so damn good at this’ you giggled as he climbed up and in between your legs.

‘So are you’ Cillian smirked before positioned himself in between your legs.

You couldn’t believe that he was already hard again as you felt the smooth head of this cock press open your labia and lodge in the opening.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he began sliding his hardness into you until it was seated deeply inside.

‘Oh god’ you moaned, loving the feeling of him inside of you.

He allowed you to adjust for a moment before beginning to thrust into you gently.

As he was moving in and out of you at a reasonable he speed, he held you tight, pressing his body against yours while kissing you gently.

You felt suspended in this moment. Every cell of your body felt everything with every thrust and every kiss.

Slowly all the tingling pleasure began to gather together and concentrate in your core, moving down to center where your were so intimately connected.

You gasped and trembled as the intensity began to overwhelm your. Your hands clenched and tried to pull him even closer, trying to fit yourself into his skin.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you panted as your walls tightened and your orgasm engulfed.

Moving in sync with you, Cillian wasn’t far behind you and the tightening of your walls around him sent him over the edge.

Panting equally loudly he filled you with his warm cum.

After you both came down from your highs, you curled up with each other on the lounge, pulling the blanket on top of you.

After more gentle kisses and some talking about the situation with Sarah, Cillian ordered some take away and you watched a movie together before heading to the bedroom for some more intimacy and to catch up on your sleep.

Meeting Grandma (Again)

The next morning, you heard the door open at 7am. Your grandmother had a key and was dropping Max back from their trip.

‘Hi Nan’ you said as you walked out of the bedroom, wearing a t-shirt and some cotton underwear.

‘Hi darling’ she said, giving you a hug just as Max came out of the bathroom.

‘Mum, I was busting. I thought I was going to pee in nanna’s car’ he said causing you to laugh before giving him a big hug.

Just as Max disappeared into his room to unpack his bag and you sat down with your grandmother in the kitchen, Cillian walked in wearing nothing but his boxers.

‘Oh, uhm, hi’ Cillian said, his face flushing and your eyes widening.

‘Oh hello again Mr Murphy’ your grandmother said with a big grin as she looked up and down on him as if she was assessing him.

‘Excuse me, I will be right back’ he said slightly embarrassed, picking up his clothes from the living room floor on the way back to the bedroom and pushing your lace panties and bra under the lounge discreetly in the hope that your grandmother wouldn’t notice.

You certainly didn’t expect her to arrive so early.

‘So…’ you said, your face flushed, lost for words until your grandmother began to laugh.

‘Now, this just made my day sweetheart. Wait until I tell Erna, she will not believe it’ your grandmother giggled.

‘Nan! Please!’ you said with some embarrassment.

‘Oh darling, I am just kidding. I won’t tell Erna of course. But who doesn’t enjoy a bit of eye candy now and then, right?’ your grandmother said, making you flush even more.

‘Jesus, nan’ you laughed as Cillian came out of the bedroom, now wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

There was an awkward silence between you, Cillian and your grandmother as Cillian sat down at the table with you.

‘So, when is the next season of Peaky Blinders coming out?’ your grandmother asked to break the ice.

‘Not sure, but we start filming again in six weeks’ Cillian said.

‘So, you will be gone for quite a while I would assume?’ your grandmother asked concerned.

‘Four months. Although, I am hoping for Y/N to come and visit me in between’ Cillian explained.  

‘You should be able to arrange that darling, right? And, while you are there, you and Cillian can visit your parents. Maybe they could even look after Max for a change and you can have a date night’ your grandmother said.

‘Your parents live in Birmingham?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod with a sigh.

‘Yes, about 20 minutes outside Birmingham’ you responded.

To be continued….

[thefanficmonster]

You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

[knivesareout]

take on the world - chapter two

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (m receiving), protected p in v, alcohol consumption, bad banter, possible typos

Summary: A whirlwind romance takes you by surprise when Frankie rescues you.

A/N: Aaaand here’s chapter two! I finally decided to work on an outline for this and it made things much smoother so go me! The angst will, unfortunately, come in at some point so enjoy these two while they’re being hopelessly cute. I hope you all enjoy and you can read it on AO3 here.

CHAPTER ONE | MASTERLIST

---

Wednesday rolls around quicker than you thought it would and your work day goes by even faster.

Your walk home is quiet and you enjoy the peaceful atmosphere; it wasn’t often that the sidewalks weren’t crowded with groups of people trying to get somewhere in a hurry. You were in a blissful state at the idea of seeing Frankie again and nothing was going to change that.

There wasn’t much you could compare this feeling to- this feeling you had about Frankie. All of your past relationships were one and done, if you could even call them relationships. A few dates, a hook-up, and usually that was it. Nothing clicked and it was always mutual. Only one guy had gotten further than that but only barely. He’d managed about 4 dates in total until you realized you were the one carrying the conversations, that you had nothing in common, and the only thing you could remember about him was that he hated fish. Relationships seemed more trouble than they were worth.

None of those feelings were present when you thought about Frankie. So, what was it about him that made you feel so different? So willing to let your guard down?

Was it the fact that he sounded genuinely interested in your thoughts, feelings, and passions? The fact that he was willing to be open about himself and tell you things other than the shallow, on the surface stuff? That you could talk all night and not run out of things to say? There had yet to be any sort of awkward silence between you two- both of you eager to fill the space with something funny or just a random thought, slowly learning one another.

Two dates, dozens of texts and a couple phone calls and you were already falling deep. The phone call only the night before had lasted until 2am, Frankie regaling stories from his army buddies that had you in stitches. It felt too soon to even think about but the thought was there, in the back of your mind. Was this love? Everything about this entire situation was foreign to you but welcome in a way that it usually wasn’t.

If this was even close to what falling in love was like, why hadn’t you tried sooner? Maybe it was because you hadn’t even been trying this time- Frankie had just fallen into your lap, rescued you really, and it felt like some kind of universal sign to try. Except it didn’t even feel like trying with him because it all came so natural to you.

It seemed to make the most sense for Frankie to come to your place for dinner that night since he already knew where you lived. Your apartment was thankfully previously cleaned up and you were glad for the chores you’d already taken care of earlier in the week so that was at least one less stressor.

Frankie had called on your lunch break to tell you he was grocery shopping for dinner, asking your opinions on what sounded good and if you had any allergies.

A soft sigh passes through your lips as you push into your apartment, kicking the door closed, tossing your bag on the island in the middle of the kitchen, and all but collapsing on your couch. Nerves were starting to eat at you and you scream loudly into the cushion, your legs thrashing behind you.

It takes a few moments for you to try and collect yourself, your heart still beating quickly from your anxiousness and it slowly starts ebbs away as you breathe deep and the tension releases, your cheek smushed on the couch cushion and you sigh.

“Fuck.”

Changing into something more comfortable than the work clothes you’d been in, you pull on a pair of leggings and a sweater. As much of a date this was, you were also in the comfort of your own apartment and weren’t about to dress up just to sit on the couch and eat dinner while you watched a movie with Frankie.

You busy yourself with watching YouTube videos on your TV for the next couple of hours, curled under a soft blanket while you wait for a text from Frankie. The distraction was needed because you knew the more time alone with your thoughts, the more time you’d overthink everything and make it worse.

Now time seems to creep slowly, your eyes drifting towards the time on your phone. The nerves are slowly creeping back in and it’s jarring for your phone to start vibrating when it does, your heart beating quickly.

“Hey,” you answer, “Are you here?”

Frankie grunts through the speaker and you laugh quietly, “Yeah. Do you need to buzz me up? Someone in your lobby is eyeing me weirdly since I can’t figure out how to get in and my hands are full of groceries.”

You jump up quickly and head to the buzzer on your door, balancing the phone on your shoulder. “Yeah, just push the button for 1202 and I’ll let you in. 12th floor.”

“See you in a sec,” he tells you and hangs up. The buzzer comes through seconds later and you hit the button in front of you, going to unlock your front door while you wait.

The silence of your apartment suddenly feels stifling and you pull up Spotify on your tv, playing Fleetwood Mac to fill the room. It feels better at least and you slowly start to sway with the music. You wonder what it’s like to dance with him, if he was silly about it or had rhythm in his hips. The smile on your face is probably comical at the thought but a knock breaks you out of your day dream and you rush towards the door, pulling it open quickly to see him smiling.

Your heart squeezes at the sight and you move to the side to let him in, shutting it behind closed and flipping the lock.

“Got enough there?”

Frankie’s arms are laden with bags and you can’t figure out what he’s going to be making when he goes to set them on the counter and turns to you. “I sure as hell hope so,” he chuckles, motioning for you.

It’s easy to fall into his arms. They squeeze tight around you in greeting and you turn your head to place a kiss to his jaw, the one spot you’re now determined to kiss every time you see him. He feels warm and smells great and you dig your nose into his chest, the softness of his t-shirt, and his chest rumbles as he laughs at you.

“You good there?” His voice is teasing and you mumble an affirmative, not quite ready to let go.

You finally pull back from his embrace to lean against the counter opposite him, kicking his shoe with your bare foot. “Get comfortable while I go through these.”

Frankie rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything while you start to pull out what looks like pizza ingredients. Sauce, pre-made dough, and every topping you could ever imagine.

“I’m guessing you can’t really cook,” you turn over your shoulder to look at him now in just his socks with his jacket thrown over a barstool at your kitchen island and he shrugs helplessly.

“What makes you say that?” He tries to look indignant but he breaks the facade seconds later. “Not really. I had to call a friend and ask for help and he suggested just ordering pizza so at least this is an upgrade right?”

The thought really is sweet and you nod quickly, hoping to appease the bit of nerves you can see creeping in over his expression.

Frankie tugs his hat off and runs a hand through his hair before readjusting it back on top of his head. It’s a nervous tick he does and one you’d picked up on at the bar when you’d met him.

“I’ve honestly never done this? Like, made pizza before. Have you?”

Frankie shakes his head in reply, “Can’t be that hard, can it? Seems pretty easy.”

He shuffles over towards you and pulls the rest of the ingredients out- different types of cheeses, some oil, and a couple spices you don’t recognize. Two bottles of wine are in the last bag and you raise your eyebrows until you spot the 6 pack of beer that he’d left by the door.

He looks over everything spread out on the island and turns to you sheepishly. “Well, maybe we should look it up.”

---

The pizza doesn’t turn out to be all that hard to make and Frankie teases you about your lack of toppings- basic cheese with a few scattered veggies. His is loaded and probably weighs twice as much as yours does but he insists it’s better like that, pinching your ass as you walk away to let them cook.

Your music still plays softly in the background and Frankie collapses on your couch, tugging his hat off and tossing it on the coffee table. You like how comfortable he seems in your place, and you sway softly to the music, just looking at him.

Frankie catches you staring, a curious look in his eye and he laughs. “What are you looking at?”

“Come dance with me.” You’re still slowly moving to the music, the song switching to Tiny Dancer, and you hold your hand out for him with a pleading look. “Please.”

You watch him hesitate, debating with himself until he pushes up from the couch and takes your hand in his. “I don’t really dance,” he tells you, a hand going to your hip while his other clutches yours.

Cautiously, you both move around the small space in your apartment. It’s careful and quiet, Frankie giving your hip a squeeze. It brings your attention to him and he nudges his nose with yours. “You know what I was just thinking?”

“Hm?”

“That I haven’t kissed you yet. You kiss me where I can’t grow facial hair but you won’t kiss my lips.”

He’s teasing you again and you step on his toe, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your thumb brushes against the spot in question, the skin there smooth.

“Shit head,” he mumbles with a deep chuckle. Moving the hand that’s clutched in yours down to your back, he whirls you around, dipping you low. “You sure about that?”

“No.”

Your balance is off and you know you’re going to fall in the next 20 seconds but you surge up anyway, arms wrapping around his neck to find some balance and press your lips to Frankie’s in a slow kiss.

It’s just what you thought it would be- soft and sweet. His lips a little bit chapped but warm, your hands finding his hair and pulling him in deeper.

The timer for the pizza sounds loudly on your phone, interrupting you, and it catches you both by surprise, Frankie’s arms going slack around you and with your arms around him you bring him down to the floor with you as you both fall in a tangle of limbs, laughing loudly.

“Was that worth it?” You try to catch your breath, poking him in the stomach and he laughs even harder, batting your hands away.

“Not if the pizza burns,” he groans, rolling away from you and getting up to check on the oven.

It takes a second to try and catch your breath so you stay, sprawled out on the floor, turning to watch Frankie pull the pizzas out and turn off the oven. “They alright? Or do we need to order pizza?”

“Crust looks a little crispy but I think they’re still edible,” he glances around, looking for you and snickers when he sees you still on the floor. “Where’s your pizza cutter?”

“Drawer next to the fridge.”

Shuffling around on the floor, you finally stand up and bump Frankie out of your way to grab the bottle opener, pulling the wine bottle closest to you across the counter and popping it open.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that 6 pack you brought in here. Go on, I don’t expect you to drink wine too,” you nudge him.

Frankie shoots you a grateful look while you bring the cut pizzas to the coffee table and sit on the floor, legs crossed and leaning back against the couch.

“You don’t wanna sit on the couch?” He’s looking at you strangely, but you shrug.

“I like the floor but you can sit up there if you want.”

He takes a seat next to you and you both dig in.

Watching him try to eat his massive pizza is hilarious- making you laugh so hard you almost snort, the drink of wine a bad choice as it threatens to come back up through your nose.

“I didn’t know your mouth could go so wide,” you manage to choke out, coughing to try and clear your throat from your laugh.

Frankie almost chokes himself at your bad joke, dropping the slice on the plate and chugging down his beer to try and breathe.

“We’re a fucking mess.” ---

You’re rinsing the dishes while Frankie loads the dishwasher, a solid system set up, because despite your protests that you’d just do it yourself, Frankie insisted that he help.

“I think I might have ice cream if you wanna share some,” you offer the dish towel to him after drying your hands. He waves you off, running his palms over the thighs of his jeans with a cheeky smile and you roll your eyes.

“Depends on the flavor,” he tells you as if your response is make it or break it.

Cookie dough is apparently an acceptable flavor so you share a bowl on the couch while you try to explain to Frankie that the new Jurassic World movies are trash.

“It’s just a cash grab!” You explain, pointing your spoon at him. “And sure, the second and third Jurassic Park movies aren’t great, but they’re at least better than these new ones. I can’t believe they’re making sequels.”

“The effects are good though, you can’t deny that,” he insists, grabbing a spoonful of the ice cream and shoveling into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s not the point. The story isn’t good and that is the point and makes it not worth watching. Even if I do like Bryce Dallas Howard.” You pause, thinking for a second. “But I do now suddenly remember that Jeff Goldblum is gonna be in the next one so maybe.”

You eat the last bit of the cookie dough left in the bowl and set it on the coffee table, licking your spoon clean and dropping it inside.

Frankie’s eyes are trained on you and you touch your cheek, wondering if you’ve got left over pizza sauce on you. “Have I got something on my face?”

Nodding, Frankie drops his spoon in next to yours and leans forward. “Just a little ice cream here.” He’s close, just a breath away, and his mouth presses in towards the corner of your lips, his tongue darting out to lick there and you gasp, turning your face into his to press your lips together.

The kiss starts a chain of events that make your head spin. Frankie wastes no time pulling you into his lap, his hands settling around your hips. Your arms loop around his neck, hands finding his hair and tugging as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. The kiss is all tongue and teeth this time, licking into each other’s mouths. The faint taste of vanilla from the ice cream is there and it makes you smile against this lips, breaking the kiss to try and catch your breath.

You’re suddenly thankful you’d only pulled on leggings for the night, the heat between your legs easily finding his growing erection behind his jeans and you press down, seeking friction.

His lips move down your neck and Frankie pulls at the shoulder of your sweater to kiss across the skin there, teeth sinking in and sucking harshly. You know there will be a dark mark there come morning and a moan bubbles up in your throat at the harsh contact and you swallow it down, self conscious. You’d once been teased about the noises you made and you didn’t want anything to stop the delicious feeling you were experiencing with Frankie if he didn’t like them either.

You pull his mouth away from your shoulder, tipping his chin up to look at you. His dark eyes are blown wide, his mouth wet, and hair a mess. It’d been only a few minutes and already Frankie looks entirely debauched- and in your opinion, never looked sexier. “You’re so fucking hot,” you tell him, running a hand down his jaw, across his chest, down to the button of his jeans.

“Bedroom,” he chokes out as you palm him through the denim while you fiddle with the button there. “We should- bedroom. Take this to the bedroom.”

He’s right, despite how much you don’t want to move. The couch was comfortable but not the ideal place for sex so you slipped off, offering him your hand and pulling him towards your room.

Your bedroom is small and the bed takes up most of the space. A queen bed you’d treated yourself to when you had moved downtown placed in the middle with two thrifted nightstands on either side and a dresser tucked in the corner by your bathroom.

It wasn’t much but it was comfortable and you couldn’t wait to get Frankie under the sheets.

Swinging your legs up onto the bed, you settle yourself in the middle, back pressed against the pillows and crook a finger towards him. Frankie tugs his shirt off and joins you, crawling up the mattress and lying next to you.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells you quietly, running a hand across your cheek and you close your eyes at the feeling of careful intimacy. Turning your head, you press your lips to his palm and lean in to nudge your nose against his.

The kiss turns quickly heated again, your hands running across his shoulders and back, digging into the soft skin. You can feel scars and bumps beneath your palms as they explore him and you’re eager to learn his body.

Frankie’s hand slips up the front of your sweater, hands seeking more and you bite back a moan as his palm glides across your breast and squeezes, testing the weight and slowly starts to massage the flesh.

“Come on. I wanna hear you, baby. Don’t be shy.”

You close your eyes and will yourself to just let go. Nothing about Frankie has indicated that he’d tease you for something that comes so natural and you nod, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

His hand slides behind your back to unclasp your bra and the material slackens against you. Next he pulls off your sweater, your head popping out of the collar and you throw it to the side. Your bra is tossed in the same general direction and Frankie descends on your chest, mouth seeking more skin to mark.

Frankie brushes his mouth around your left nipple while his fingers pinch at the right. The dual sensation makes you keen, your hips thrusting up in search of friction. There was a fire burning between your thighs and you ached to have him fill you.

Your fingers find the edge of his jeans and tug. Pulling away from the kiss you whine, “Off. I want them off. Too many clothes.”

“I’d say we’re pretty even,” he jokes against your nipple, tugging at the band of your leggings.

“So do something about it.”

Frankie grips the material, fingers finding the band of your underwear too, and he yanks them down your legs, your feet kicking them off the rest of the way.

The cool air of your room raises goosebumps along your skin, Frankie’s hand sliding up your calf, to your thigh, and he parts your legs to allow him better access to your aching core. You know you’re soaked, wetness coating your inner thighs and down to your ass.

“Is this all for me?” He asks you, running a finger across the curls at your core and down between your lips to coat his finger in your juices.

“Yes. Fuck, Frankie please,” you promise him, watching his hand play with you.

He’s focused on everything else.

Frankie drinks in your naked form while his finger teases you up and down, his eyes scanning your body. When normally you would shy from such an intense gaze, your nerves are nonexistent. Not here, with him- not with how comfortable you’d grown with him despite your earlier misgivings.

Your eyes zero in on the denim still covering his legs and you nudge his thigh with your toes. “Take ‘em off Frankie.”

It’s like you’ve pulled him out of a daydream and he nods, sliding his finger into his mouth to clean it off before undoing the buttons on his jeans and pulling them off to toss them on the floor.

He’s back on the bed in a flash, sliding between your parted thighs and he surges up to kiss you. Your hands find purchase on his back, pulling his chest against yours and you arch up into the contact, your nipples rubbing against the sparse hair on his chest.

Frankie’s cock lays hard on your thigh, thick and dripping on your skin. Your fingers ache to touch him, feel him in your hand so you reach down while still kissing him, thumb brushing along the wet tip before you grip him firmly.

He breaks the kiss to moan against your mouth, forehead against yours while he relishes in your touch. Frankie’s hips thrust into your hand and you squeeze his cock tighter in your grip, sliding your hand up and down him in a practiced rhythm. “Does that feel good?”

Barely managing to nod, Frankie brokenly moans against your cheek on the uptick of your thumb smoothing over the head and you bring your wet hand up to your mouth, licking it clean of the pre-cum smeared across your skin. “Wanna blow you, Frankie. Will you let me?”

He nods quickly, shifting until he’s flat on his back and watching you situate yourself over his cock that’s laying hard on his stomach. You drag a finger up the length of him, Frankie shuddering at your touch.

You move closer, your mouth leaning down to press kisses against his lower stomach and around his leaking cock. Your eyes trail up to find his eyes closed, head pressing deep into the pillows while he breathes slowly and you smirk. Finally your mouth makes contact with the head, your tongue darting out to lick at the mess he’s made, moaning at the taste. The feel of your hands make up for what your mouth can’t take- Frankie’s big, thick and stretching your mouth wide and you struggle at first to take him deeper. Eventually you find a steadying rhythm, mouth sucking him in and hands tightening around the base. His moans are encouraging and music to your ears, only spurring you on further.

It’s sloppy and you’re sure you look obscene with your lips stretched wide around the girth of Frankie’s cock, spit and pre-cum dripping down your chin and fist. Your hand moves from the length of him down to cup his balls, rolling them in your palm and giving them a gentle tug. That seems to get Frankie’s attention and his eyes shoot down to lock with yours, pupils blown wide and neck veins straining.

Pulling off slowly, you give the head a hard suck and start sponging kisses along the girth of this shaft. “Do you not wanna cum?”

Frankie’s hand reaches down and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip and you suck it in, unable to help yourself. He swears in Spanish quietly, looking up to the ceiling before glancing back down to you. “I’ve got condoms- in my wallet. Wherever my jeans are. I need to be inside you.”

His thumb drops from your mouth and you move off the bed in search of his jeans. They’re on top of your sweater and you dig his wallet out, finding two condoms tucked around a five dollar bill. You leave one, dropping Frankie’s wallet back on the ground and tearing into the packaging of the other once you’re sitting back between his legs.

You sheath him quickly in the condom, moving your knees to sit on either side of his hips. You don’t realize your thighs are shaking until Frankie sets his hands on them, squeezing gently. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” you promise him with a quiet laugh.

Reaching between you, you grasp his cock and slowly lower yourself down until your hips meet his, flushed together.

The feeling of being full- stretched to the brim and full of his cock is intoxicating and you bite your lip, trying to hold yourself together. Frankie isn’t much better beneath you, his hands still gripping your thighs tight, his knuckles gone white with the pressure. His neck is bared, head pressed into the pillow behind him and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to gain his composure.

You start off slowly, a slow dip of your hips to try and get used to the feeling of him inside of you. It lights a spark up your spine, a low simmering that builds the more you move. Frankie watches you, completely entranced; the way your breasts move while you start to bounce on his lap, his hands sliding up past your stomach to grip them tightly in his hands. His fingers pinch and pull at your tight nipples, a moan slipping past your lips and you fall forward, bracing yourself against his chest.

It takes no time at all for Frankie’s lips to find yours now that your mouth is closer, tongue licking in. His hands slide to your waist and they hold you there, his hips thrusting forward as he starts to pound into you. It’s too much and not enough, your mouth falling from Frankie’s to lay open against his chest while you try to breathe, panting loudly.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, hands moving to your ass and pulling apart your cheeks to allow him to slip further inside of you. “Touch yourself for me, I know you’re close.”

You’d do anything Frankie told you to in that moment and you snake a hand between your bodies, rubbing quick circles over the slippery bud, fingers bumping against Frankie’s cock as he works into you. Your body is shaking above his, a high pitched “fuck,” slipping past your lips as you start to cum around him. The feeling is like nothing you remember. Stars burst behind your eyelids, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Your toes are numb at the sensation and your breathing is heavy, mouth still open and pressed to his chest.

Frankie groans lowly as you tighten around him and he continues to thrust into you at a lightning quick pace in search of his own release. He’s not too far behind you, swearing in Spanish, and he trembles below you as he cums. His thrusts don’t stop, just slow down while you both catch your breath. It’s comforting, intimate, that you’re both still connected and you kiss up his chest to his neck, lips latching on to your favorite spot along his jaw. Light kisses go up his cheek until they finally land on his lips and you kiss him languidly, resting your hands on either side of his face.

Eventually, Frankie pulls away. His hands run up your sides, across your back and he noses against your cheek. “We should probably get up.” His voice is quiet and you nod slowly. The last thing you want to do is move but your thighs are sticky with your release and it’s starting to grow uncomfortable.

Your legs shake as you move off of Frankie, losing your balance once your feet are back on the floor and you giggle once you catch your footing. “I’m good, I’m good,” you say mostly to yourself, moving around the room and padding quietly into the bathroom.

By the time you’ve cleaned yourself up and wet a rag to wipe down Frankie, he’s disposed of the condom and is pulling back the blankets to your bed. “Here, just toss it to me,” he tells you, hands out to catch the washcloth. It’s a perfect throw and he wipes himself down- tossing the cloth onto the floor and sliding into bed.

It’s perfect how he’s picked the right side to settle down in; you always slept on the left, no matter how hard you tried to sleep in the middle and you slip in next to Frankie, maneuvering yourself until you’re tucked in under his arm, cheek to his chest.

Frankie tucks a finger under your chin to bring your lips closer to his in a quick kiss and you can’t help smiling into it. An unexpected yawn passes through you and he laughs quietly, “We should sleep.”

“I know,” you pout, “I set my alarm early so I can make breakfast for us before I head into work.”

“Thought you might’ve forgotten,” he teases with a light pinch to your hip.

The feeling makes you squeal and you go to pull away but Frankie just tugs you in closer, arms wrapping around you tightly. “I owe you right? And I’m not one to back out of a promise.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Good-,” another yawn passes your lips and you settle back into Frankie’s chest. “You should.”

“Night querida.”

“Night Frankie.”

----

Your alarm wakes you up only a few hours later, blaring loudly in the living room where you left your phone. It’s a struggle to get out of bed, untangling your limbs from Frankie and padding in there quickly to turn it off.

Despite the lack of hours you slept, you still felt refreshed. Not once had you tossed or turned during the night, waking up in the same position you’d fallen asleep in.

Shuffling back into your room, Frankie rolls over and blinks an eye open, a slow smile sliding across his features when he looks at you. “Morning,” he rasps, scratching at his jaw.

“Morning.” You lean over, pressing your cursory kiss to the spot on his jaw that was becoming easier and easier to land on when you leaned in. “I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick.” Frankie only nods when you pull away and you’re almost bummed when he doesn’t offer to join you.

The shower is quick, efficient and you’re eager to get started on breakfast, wanting to show off what little skills you had in the kitchen.

Frankie whistles when you emerge in only a towel and you wave him off, embarrassed. Despite having shown off your body last night, it was different in the light of the day and you close the door to the closet while you dress for work. Your pull on your favorite top paired with the pants that make your ass look good and slip back out to find Frankie dressed in his jeans and shirt from the night before sat at your kitchen island.

Frankie’s eyes never seem to leave you as he watches you cook; asking questions about what you’re doing and its purpose. You answer him carefully, smiling at the fact that he genuinely seems to want to learn about what you’re doing.

You serve up french toast only a few moments later, bacon and eggs on the side.

You’re both quick to dig in, the activities from the previous night having worked up an appetite and you’re done in record time, rubbing your belly. Frankie isn’t far behind you, downing the rest of his orange juice and wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

“Well, that was well worth the win. Much better than the pizzas,” he tells you, patting your thigh and stacking your plates together to bring to the sink.

You watch him move around your kitchen, rinsing the plates. It’s domestic and sweet, seeing him clean up for the both of you. Your heartbeat picks up a little at the thought that this, at some point, could be a regular occurrence. You and Frankie waking up early for breakfast before work, cleaning up and seeing each other off. The image is something you know you’ll hold onto, one you hope will come true.

Your name is being called and you blink, realizing Frankie was saying something. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked what time you had to be at work, it’s 15 til.”

“Shit, I didn’t even realize the time. Yeah I need to be there at 9, I’m sorry,” you apologize.

You hop off the barstool and start gathering your things. Your laptop and files you’d pulled out yesterday that were never touched get tossed in your bag and you turn to Frankie. “How do you feel about giving me a ride?”

“You got it.”

The ride is silent with the exception of Frankie’s truck rumbling beneath you while he navigates through downtown.

“Got any plans Friday night?”

You turn your head towards him, tilting it slightly as you think. “I don’t think so, no. Why, what’s up?”

“Was thinking about taking you to a movie. There’s a theater around my place that does showings of old movies and I think they might be playing Jurassic Park this weekend.”

The fact that Frankie’s here, asking you out again, has your stomach in knots. Was this too much? Frankie clearly didn’t think so and you hesitate.

“If it’s too much, I get it. I’ve taken up a good chunk of your time and we can figure something else out another time,” he tries to clear up, turning to watch you once the traffic light turns red. He’s tapping quickly at the steering wheel with his thumbs and you know he’s just as anxious about this entire situation between you two as you are; putting yourself out there is terrifying.

“No, yeah I’d love to. I really would Frankie,” you promise him, taking one of his hands off the wheel to lace your fingers with his. “I just don’t want to mess this up by going too fast and like, I know it seems like it is but… it doesn’t feel like it? Not really?”

“You’re right. Normally I’m not like this, I swear. I have fucking boundaries,” he laughs, “but I like being around you. A lot.”

“So, Friday then? Jurassic Park, popcorn, and candy? Maybe a little hand holding?”

The light turns green and he squeezes your hand. “Yeah. Sounds perfect.”

Frankie sends you off to work with a quick kiss and a honk as he pulls away and the smile never leaves your face that day.

--- 

TAGLIST: @icanbeyourjedi​ @bookishofalder​ @marvelousmermaid​ @soyelfuegoquearde​ @bdavishiddlesbatch​ @wyn-dixie​ @peterhollandkait​

[clairecrive]

“Mirror, mirror” - Remus Lupin

A/n: And here’s another Remus one. I’m sorry but I’m so into him you can’t even imagine. I have to let out these feelings some way. For my Hardy’s mutuals don’t worry I’m working on an Alfie piece too *wink wink*.  Well then, hope you like this <3

Warnings: none

Summary: Secret Santa situation

Words: over 1.3k

 HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

inspired by this tik tok video 

The Marauders usually spent Christmas time at the Potter's. It had become a tradition of sorts but only after Sirius had left his house, before that they would only meet for the annual New Year's party hosted by Euphemia and Fleamont.

However, since their group kinda merged with that of the girls after James finally succeeded in wooing Lily, they moved the opening of presents to the week before they had to go home. They would still see each other for the party but by then it would be too late to exchange gifts.

So here they were, in the common room of the Griffindor Tower, sitting in a circle in front of the fire trying to guess who their gift was from.

None remember whose idea it was but whoever it was suggested they tried doing Secret Santa this year. It was difficult to get the right gift for every one of them so this way it was easier for them and each of them still got a gift.

It was Remus' turn to open his present and guess but by the way he was looking at it, he hadn't a clue. To be fair, the shape of the wrapped object wasn't conventional. It didn't look like a book, something that everyone would have thought he was getting. Apparently, whoever his secret Santa was, they had decided to get creative.

It wouldn't have been all that difficult to guess who it was though. All it took was to glance and everyone's faces and then one would unmistakably notice the look of apprehension and anticipation on someone's face. That would have been a dead giveaway Fortunately for y/n though, no one seemed to have noticed, least of all the directly concerned one.

On top of the package, there was a small piece of paper. The writing was in black ink and elegant cursive and while the first sentence was at the top centre, the drawing of a small mirror was the one to whom the second sentence belonged to. As if he was answering to whatever had made the question.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

But of course, the one the flowers move for."

Remus only stared at it in confusion, he was sure he had heard the rhyme before but he couldn't pinpoint when and where. Maybe it was a muggle thing y/n or Lily had said, he would always have trouble remembering that kind of things for some reason. What he didn't know though, was that the rhyme itself was a spoiler for the present laying on his lap.

Without thinking too much about its meaning though, he carefully removed the wrapping paper only to be met with... his face?

His scarred face was reflected in an orned mirror that looked old but was clearly hand made and of good quality. It wasn't just a mirror though, just like Remus wasn't just a werewolf. Not that he'd ever say it, mind you, but it was the reasoning behind y/n's gift.

On the bottom of the mirror, there were five small sunflowers. Each of them different from the other but all of them facing whoever was standing in front of the mirror. Remus could see a faint trace of the same paint used for the flowers on the frame of the mirror so he deduced that they were hand-painted recently and did not come originally with the mirror.

"Are you sure there was your name on it? Because this looks like the perfect gift for Sirius," chimed James over his shoulders.

"Oh, please. I'm not the one who spends at least ten minutes every morning fixing his hair," Sirius snickered clearly pointing at his best friend

"Well, I need to look girl for my girl don't I," he smirked wrapping his arm around Lily who was still getting used to him calling that

"You're right Prongs, not everyone can be effortlessly dashing,"

"Well, now we know why this would have been a useless present for Sirius." Rolling her eyes, y/n stated from her place beside the long-haired boy and in front of Remus who still trying to wrap his head around the identity of his secret Santa.

  ��                                   ***                 ***                   ***

It was later in the evening, everyone had opened their presents and full from the delicious food offered by the school, they had all retreated to their rooms. Well, everyone but one of them.

Holding his present in his hands, Remus was still trying to figure out who had bought this for him. And most importantly, why. It wasn't a secret that he wasn't the most confident in his looks. The scars covering his body had never failed to remind him that there was something wrong with him. But then again, seeing as this person had taken the time to actually paint flowers on it, it meant that there was some explanation behind it. Remus couldn't see it to save his life though.

Soft footsteps broke him out of his thoughts and he turned around to see y/n standing at the end of the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories with a glass of water in her hands.

"What are you doing here?" Y/n wondered yawning

"Couldn't sleep."

"Same," she said making her way to sit next to Remus who went back at staring at the mirror.

"Do you know that sunflowers move in whatever direction the sun is?" She asked lowering the now empty glass on the floor beside the sofa.

"They do?" Remus asked in surprise making y/n hum in confirmation.

"And they all point towards you." She pointed out after a while, aiding him in the right direction seeing as he was still looking at the gift puzzled.

"So, you're saying that whoever made this for me thinks of me as the sun?" This time he turned to face her and she just shrugged her shoulders. To be fair, she was the one who had made that for him but she wasn't confident enough to just tell him. It didn't look like he liked his present much.

"Maybe this was really meant for Sirius," he muttered under his breath turning again towards the mirror. Y/n couldn't help but scoff at this, at his non-existent self-esteem.

"Is it so absurd for you to think that someone might find you beautiful?" She asked him, maybe more snappy than she ought to be, but it did manage to catch Remus' attention and the wheels in his mind to spin.

"You're my secret Santa, arent' you?" He asked and even though there wasn't really the need for her to confirm she still nodded, hiding her blushing cheeks by turning her head.

"I'm sorry though, I knew it was a bit risky of a present but I thought it was cute."

"It is, it really is," he insisted when she shot him a doubtful look, "it's very thoughtful. I just- I just didn't know you thought that way about me."

"Honestly Remus, you're the only one who's clueless about your worth."

"Do you really think so?"

"I've just compared you to the sun, do you really need to ask that?"

"Sorry, it's just that it feels like a dream." Not knowing what to say, Y/n chose not to speak but that only fueled Remus more.

"My crush comparing me to the biggest star honestly feels like a dream," he added making y/n's head snap to him

"What?"

"If I'm the sun, does that mean that you're the moon?" he asked leaning closer to her

"But the sun and the moon never meet." She complained, her eyes on his lips.

"I'll just have to catch, won't I?" he murmured now practically on her lips

"I reckon that won't be a problem." And that was the last words they exchanged before their lips met.

[genesisrose74]

Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

[oikawaplssteponme]

can i request an izuku piece where they have mutual feelings for each other but are both oblivious and one night a guy from the support class asks her to be his plus +1 to a party after they fought together in the sports festival and izuku gets jealous ,, the reader leaves the party early because all she can think of is him and maybe they kiss at the end idk

hi hi! i hope you enjoy!💓

•

Plus One

pairing: Izuku Midoriya x reader

warnings: a little swearing

genre: fluff

a/n: i didn’t name the support course student btw. enjoy xx

~

You tapped your pencil on your forehead as you stared down at the notebook. You read and reread Izuku’s notes on you from your sports festival performance.

“Does that make sense?” He asked. You looked up at him, as he sat across from you.

“Yeah it totally does. I should’ve taken a more aggressive approach from the start instead of waiting. I still can’t believe I got beat by a support course student,” you groaned. Izuku chuckled.

“You put up a good fight! I had no idea he had such a good quirk either. I think he took us all by surprise,” he said. You nodded.

“I mean you did pretty good in the festival this year. Third place is impressive nonetheless.” Izuku’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh thank you.”

It was no secret that you had a little crush on Izuku, and it was certainly no secret that he felt the same. Yet, neither of you realized it. It was as if everyone knew but you two.

“Have any weekend plans?” You asked. Izuku shrugged.

“I think I’m gonna go to that party this weekend, but I’m not too sure,” he replied.

“Oh yeah I forgot about that. I’m still debating going too.”

“Talking about the party?” asked a voice. You turned to see none other then the guy who you competed against in the sports festival.

“Oh hi. Um, yeah, Deku and I aren’t too sure if we were gonna go,” you explained. He smiled. He took a seat next to you, placing his arm around your chair.

“Well I’m not too sure about Deku but I’d love it if you’d come with me to the party,” he smiled. Deku tensed up. You laughed nervously.

“Wait actually?”

“Yeah, I’d love to get to know you more, and it can be my treat since I kicked your cute ass in the sports festival.”

“Okay you did not kick my ass-”

“So you’ll come with me?”

You looked over at Deku in the corner of your eye. He looked as if he was going to burst. He had a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Um sure. Sounds like fun.”

You thought there was no harm in going to the party with him, after all, you and Izuku weren’t dating. So it’s not like you weren’t allowed to go with him. Though you’d much rather go to the party with Izuku.

“Great! I’ll snatch you from your dorm at eight.”

The guy gave you a wink, got up from his chair and went about his way. You looked back at Deku, who was back staring at his notebook.

~

When the day of the party came, you hadn’t spoke to Izuku. You hadn’t seen him around either, which worried you.

You finished getting dressed and waited to hear that fateful knock on your door. You checked your phone to see if there were any messages from Deku. None.

*knock*

You sighed, going to open the door.

“Hey Y/N! Ready to go?”

“Yup...”

The two of you walked together until reaching the party. It was at another third year’s house.

“Hey look who is here!” cheered Kaminari, “and with him...”

You chuckled nervously, greeting all your friends. You tried to find Deku.

“I’ll go grab us some punch,” he said. You nodded.

“Hey have you guys seen Deku?” You asked over the music.

“Last I saw him he was over sulking in the corner,” explained Kirishima. You nodded.

You walked over to the kitchen, spotting Deku exactly where Kirishima said.

“Uh hey...”

“Hey could we talk-”

“Here you are!” Your date handed you a cup, before putting his arm around you.

“Oh Deku you’re here, I didn’t think you’d come,” he said. Deku huffed.

“Yup, I decided to come anyway.”

“Why don’t you hang with us for the night?” You suggested.

“Actually I-”

“I think Deku’s fine over here. Come on Y/N.”

He took your hand and led you back to the main room where everyone else was. You honestly didn’t feel like ‘partying’ right now.

“I’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you lied. You walked away and made sure the coast was clear before rushing out the door.

You found yourself on a park bench. You felt bad about leaving the party but you honestly didn’t feel like being there without Izuku. Your so called date wasn’t a bad guy, he just wasn’t Deku.

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. You looked to see Izuku, smiling softly.

“Hey...”

“Oh hi. How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I figured the party scene wasn’t really your style. I honestly didn’t feel like staying either,” he said. Midoriya joined you on the bench.

“Look about that guy, I don’t like him like that. I just went with him to be nice, honestly,” you blurted out, “I just wanted to make that clear.”

Deku smiled.

“If we’re being honest, I honestly got pretty jealous when he asked you. I really only went to the party to check on you...”

“I appreciate that. I, um, I much rather prefer being here...with you,” you whispered. Izuku’s face turned pink and he smiled nervously.

“M-Me too. I, uh, like you Y/N, honestly,” he admitted. You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back the biggest grin from forming on your face.

“I like you too, honestly.”

Deku slowly placed his hand under your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly. He carefully began to lean in. You took a deep breath, finally meeting him in the middle.

The kiss was sweet and soft, absolutely perfect.

You rested your head on Deku’s shoulder after you parted from the kiss. He held you close to him.

“If I knew it was that easy I would’ve confessed ages ago.”

•

[MHA taglist: @bibly @big-phat-cat @sapphoscolonoscopy @luluwiie @happyheartsss @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]

[unlikelyempathpruneauthor]

Headcannon about Jealous Joshua? And/or Joshua and Y/N when they fight or breakup?

From Soulmates to Strangers

summary: while you were on tour Josh found someone else..

Joshua x singer!Reader

a/n: i tried placing some jealous josh but somehow i could, my brain chose pain, so hopefully this is what you wanted! 

from the minute you two were dating, you were both aware with how your relationship would be like.

of course you two couldn't be like a normal couple and you understood that and so did josh.

the support from each side was there always, no matter what. no matter how small or how big opportunities were you were always there to support and be proud of one another.

your team had announced that you were finally going on tour, after years of fans wanting one and you agreeing on it, they gave it to you.

you were physically excited. 

of course you couldn't wait to tell josh.

when you mentioned it to him, he was excited for you, he truly was, but you two had never talked about long distance with your work.

“did you already make your decision?”

“yeah I said yes of course, I just my fans were wanting one and so did I and I don't know they made it happen.”

“how long are you gonna be on the road?”

“a couple months, but i’ll end up back here in LA.”

you could tell something was wrong, but you couldn't tell what it was.

distance with your work wasn't talked about, but you had hoped that the feelings toward it were mutual since it would to happen whenever, where ever.

you wanted to bring josh a long but you knew he had compromises here in LA and well you couldn't do that to him.

“you made this decision without me? we haven't talked about this.” 

“wait, what? since when do I have to talk to you about my decisions for my career?” 

“well we are in a relationship are we not?”

he had a point but this was your career and he knew how much it meant to you. you two talked about how you were going to be huge, why was he backing out on the support.

“bubs, we'll be fine, we always are, i’m still gonna be with you, are you gonna be here for me?” 

he said nothing, you took that as his answer. I mean you understood he was going to be here while you were away, maybe that was hard for him, but you had waited for him when he was away filming.

that didn't need to be talked about because he was still gonna be in the country but you in the other hand were gonna be out as well. 

“you're going away for a long time, I was actually here to tell you that I was taking a break from my work, but clearly you had other plans.”

you were quite shocked with how he was asking, the other thing he did as well was do things with out you knowing.

“I didn't ask you to do that, how was I supposed to know?”

at this point you two were fighting but in the end came into an agreement. your communication would be constant for when you weren't busy which was good for the both go of you.

but it didn't work for long.

he had stopped answering and you were wondering why, but you weren't too worried about until the press was involved.

pictures of josh and this other girl were all over twitter, and it broke you.

he was with someone else while you were on tour.

you threw your phone away not wanting to look at the photos anymore. he didn't even text or call you about this. you found out on twitter.

after tour you went straight home not telling anyone you were back at all. you wanted to be alone, you couldn't handle seeing any one for that matter.

days passed and you were doing the same thing everyday, you hadn't gone on your phone which was filling with messages from your friends and even your manager. you didn't care though because none of them were from josh.

you then herd a knock on the door and went to go open it knowing it could be your manager wondering what you were doing.

it revealed to be josh, he was in a hoodie covering his face and guilt was all he was showing. of course he was and well you wanted him to.

“what are you doing here?”

“I saw your car, why didn't you tell me you were back?”

“well you were busy, so I didn't think to tell anyone I was back.” 

that sentence had told him enough. you knew and well you deserved more than what the pictures you saw were telling you.

“look I can explain can I come in-”

you honestly didn't want to see him, you didn't want an explanation, you saw enough, you didn't need a rushed sorry to tell you that.

“look I saw what I saw, me going on tour was clearly a mistake and to you it was a vacation.”

“no listen- it just happened, she reached out to me and well one thing lead to another.” 

“great, good, i’m glad.”

josh was so guilty he didn't know how you would react, he was expecting you yelling at him. 

“what about us?” 

you chuckled that he still thought you would resume as if nothing happened and you just shook your head at him.

“We are over, that's it.” 

as much as you wanted to tear up right in front of him you didn't, you were strong and you needed to show him that.

“really? that's it, its just over?”

you licked your lips and just looked at him.

“what do you want me to do josh, give you an award for finding the one while I was away? tell me what you want?” 

he said nothing which again told you enough.

“see you never.” 

you shut the door leaving josh there as he eventually walked away.

that's it, it was over, nothing was talked about. you stood your back on the wall and this is when you broke down and slid down the door letting you have feelings.

you always knew this day would come eventually but you didn't think it would happen this away. it was over.

[the28thofseptemberr]

for the past few months i’ve unfortunately been reading and writing less, so to try to motivate and push myself back into reading and writing fics i’m doing this fic rec & recap thingy!! i’ve seen a lot of people on my dash do something similar and i thought it would be fun, although sadly the list is quite short :/

here are the fics i’ve read (and loved) and the fics i’ve written this month!

read

•° — breakable heaven by @daggerandrose / amomentoflove  44.5k | E | hades/persephone au

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

note: this one was AMAZING. it contained literally everything i want in a fic and was just so so good, i love dark harry who is a softie for louis and this ticked all the boxes for me, i couldn’t recommend this one more :)

•° — yesterday came suddenly by @falsegoodnight 48.4k | E | assassin au

They don’t talk about it. The way Harry deflects any and all questions about his past and Louis pretends he isn’t confused or hurt by it. The way Harry keeps a distance between them and Louis acts like he can’t see it creating a wall between them. The way Harry doesn’t always answer honestly and Louis goes along with it as if he can’t tell. They don’t talk about it.

Harry knows Louis feels like he doesn’t know him well enough, and it pains him. It pains him every time Louis gets that look on his face that’s a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and confusion. And sometimes, self-blame. It pains him because Louis is wrong.

Because even though there is a lot Louis doesn’t know about him, there is so much that he does. He knows what Harry is like at his most vulnerable: curled up on this bed with him in the dark where it’s safest. He knows Harry in a way no one else does.

-

Or the one where Harry, the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

note: oh my god this was incredible, it was fluffy and angsty and action-packed in all the right places and a darker fic like this might not be for everyone but it was perfect for me (i love john wick so i was so excited to read this one!!)

•° — make my wish come true by @soldouthaz 2.8k | M | holiday fic

The taste of Christmas cookies fresh out of the oven and peppermint hot chocolate is still heavy on his tongue. Harry’s sweater provides some warmth and it still smells of him from before he left for his internship two weeks ago, but it’s nowhere near the feeling of his arms wrapped around him. Louis shivers despite the blankets.

+

part iii of holiday drabbles

note: ahh this one was adorable! just super super cute and sweet and made me feel so warm and happy <3

•° — things unsaid by @londonderrytea / ladylondonderry 4.4k | G | soulmates au

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

note: this one was so cute and humorous and fun!! i smiled like an idiot the whole time i read this

•° — practice in pencil, seal it in pen by @loubellies 16.4k | E | friends to lovers

Prompt 174: AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending please

or Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

note: i am such a sucker for friends to lovers + oblivious harry and louis, plus jealous harry and we got to see both povs and see the mutual pining which is just perfection *chef kiss*

•° — (quiet like a fight) fingers laced together by @letthemkissyou / decadent 17.4k | M | hybrid!louis

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

Or, the one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it's a whole new world for the both of them.

note: this is beautifully written and just really stunning overall :)

re-read

•° — i'll do what it takes to make this fly by literato 4.3k | G | angst with happy ending

How could Harry be so... stupid? So passive and pretending like nothing’s wrong. Of course, something’s wrong. Everything’s wrong. It’s been going on for months since Harry got a promotion and Louis’ not sure if he can take this anymore.

or

an au inspired by Olly Murs' Up featuring Demi Lovato.

note: this is one of my comfort fics!! i’ve read it countless times and i love it, it’s heartbreaking but fluffy

•° — severed by jacinth 5k | M | abo

He would rather have Harry hate him and live, than love him and die.

note: another fic i’ve read many times - one of my go-to’s

my own fics

•° — in this damn world 6.2k | T | wisdom teeth au

louis gets his wisdom teeth removed and harry's there to take care of him through the loopiness of it all. ice cream, cuddles, and adorable goofiness ensues.

•° — chapter two of i’ll love you for a lifetime wip, 6.6k | G | highschool au

[sequel to love me, please?]

harry is the popular boy at school, loved by everyone and enjoying his life. louis is the quiet, shy but unbelievably gorgeous boy who makes a certain curly boy fall deeply in love with him. the only problem is, they've never talked before. so what happens when a frog crushes on a hedgehog?

only, this time the story is told through the eyes of the blue-eyed boy.

aka a larry stylinson high school au

[fangirling-is-my-passion]

🎃 Halloween Special 🎃 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Warnings: none, according to me

Summary: It’s your fifth year at Hogwarts and you decide to change things up a little bit by making a mix between muggle and magical traditions in Halloween.

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I know it's been ages since the last time I posted any of my writings, but I got this idea the other day and I just couldn't let it die in my drafts. It's my first time writing for Draco, so if there's any mistake or stuff way too out of character, please, have mercy on me... 😔🙏 I love you and I really hope you enjoy it! Happy Halloween! :) <3

October was finally coming to its end and Halloween was just around the corner, so everybody's excitement was palpable. The Halloween celebration at Hogwarts was one of the most expected by the students and you were definitely not the exception, nonetheless, after already four years of spending the holiday the wizard style, you were kind of starting to miss the muggle celebrations you were so used to when you were only a child.

You missed the costumes so much. Everything was really cool, but why didn't wizards dress up for Halloween? I mean, can you imagine the possibilities?

And so your idea was born: A Halloween celebration in Hogsmeade with your friends and anybody else who wanted to join, but with costumes, like muggles did. It was going to be a little bit of a mix between the two worlds. And it was going to be fantastic.

"Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys!" you said excitedly on Monday morning, sitting at the Gryffindor table in a rush, "I was thinking, why don't we throw a costume party in Hogsmeade the night of Halloween? It could even be at the Three Broomsticks, if we ask for permission, of course, I gotta check that, but, a costume party! What do you think?"

"You mean like the muggle tradition?" asked Hermione.

"Yes! Exactly! I actually don't quite understand why wizards don't dress up for Halloween, but whatever. I think this would be great!"

"Of course, sounds amazing, (Y/N)! But we gotta plan it very well, so I'll help you with the organisation," said Hermione with a lopsided smile.

"Well, sounds like fun, so count me in," said Ron, "By the way, (Y/N), can you pass me the sausages, please?"

"Sure, there you go..."

"I'm definitely in too. It would be my first time dressing up for Halloween, so I wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry added, "Dudley was the one who went trick-or-treating every year; meanwhile I stayed at home, either inside the cupboard or doing whatever chores my aunt could come up with."

"Blimey, Harry, that sucks..." Ron commented before placing another sausage on his plate, which was already brimming with food. Harry simply shrugged.

"Erm, well, great then! I think..." you paused for a second and then added," Let's tell everybody else!"

"Who are you planning to invite?" Hermione questioned; she was definitely taking this organisation thing very seriously.

"I was thinking of simply spreading the word, so anybody who wants to can join."

"Oh, all right. That sounds fine," she said, although she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Are you going to invite your boyfriend then?" Ron inquired with a sly look on his face.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend! We're just... acquaintances... who hated each other in the past... but not anymore..."

He referred to no other than Draco Malfoy, the so called Slytherin Prince. At the very beginning of your Hogwarts days, you honestly couldn't stand each other, with all his arrogance and his superiority complex, however, at some point and for some strange and unknown reason to you, he stopped being an utter arsehole, your mutual teasing became more of an inside joke than actual bullying and you kinda started getting along. At least you were able to be in the same room without trying to hex one another.

"Yeaaah, of course, and who also study together in the library..." Ron continued.

"That happened one time!" you exclaimed, a flush creeping across your cheeks, "Or was it twice?"

"Twice" Harry and Ron answered in unison.

"Actually," Hermione interrupted, "it happened three times if we count the one where they had to work on the potions project together."

"But that does not count! It was a project! We had to!"

"Mmmmm, it counts because you chose to work together" she explained, a sly tone in her voice.

"That was just because he's the only Slytherin I've had an actual, relatively decent interaction with... Seriously, Hermione? That's not even the point here, guys, let's focus. And yes," you said making emphasis en the 'yes', "I am going to invite him, 'cause, why not? He's probably going to instantly reject the idea anyways, you know how he is." You crossed your arms over the table and took a deep breath.

"Wow", said Ron, "I can't believe you actually said all that without pausing to breathe. However," he said emphasising that last word," I'm telling you, (Y/N), you're gonna end up together. But if you're so sure of the contrary, let's make a bet."

"What?"

"Yes, whoever loses will have to do the winner's homework for a week." Ron smirked.

"A week! Are you nuts?" you exclaimed.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about... Unless you do think you're gonna end up being Malfoy's girlfriend..." His smirk widened and your cheeks went a little pinker than they already were.

"All right, fine. It's settled then. I only hope you're ready to do all my homework for a week, Ronald Weasley."

"We'll see about that."

After a busy and tiring week trying to plan an amazing Halloween party at the same time as doing all your class work, Saturday had finally arrived and everybody was filled with excitement. The news of your party had spread like wildfire and soon you and Hermione had to recalculate the supplies you'd need in order to have enough for every single person who wanted to drop by.

Also, you'd indeed told Draco about the party, nonetheless, just as you thought it would be, he didn't seem very excited about the whole idea... Well, yeah, he might have implied that he would never in his right mind attend a muggle celebration like that and that you were nuts to think of the possibility, however!, he didn't really, explicitly say no, so you'd taken his response as a maybe and still hoped he'd go for at least a little while (wait, why were you hoping that? It's not like you cared that much about him attending or not... Right?)

Since you'd been very busy with all the planning, you'd started working on your costume a little bit late, but you were very satisfied with the result: you were going to be Medusa. I mean, she's iconic! Being able to turn people into stone if they look you in the eye? Wicked! (At some point Harry made a joke comparing Medusa to a basilisk, and I mean, sure, but to be honest he really had to work on his humour). You'd even enchanted a diadem with snakes so they moved like they were alive! (Because, come on, you were committed to this holiday, but let's be sensible, you weren't going to wear actual snakes on your hair, there are levels).

The point is that, like everyone else, you were incredibly excited about your party. And also a bit nervous, you didn't want to screw something up, but you also knew not everything could be perfect and what mattered most was that everybody had fun.

"(Y/N)! Are you ready? We gotta get going!" Hermione called from outside the bathroom of your dormitory. You opened the door and stepped out, ready to rock and roll.

"So? How do I look?" you asked, twirling so she could take a look of your whole costume.

"Intimidatingly gorgeous."

"Oww! Thank you! Wait," you said now focusing on Hermione's costume," what are you wearing? No, no, not that, forget that, but why didn't you tell me you were going to be greek goddess, Hermione?"

"For your information, I am Athena," she said and imitated your twirl, "and I wanted it to be a surprise, I kind of got the idea thanks to you, when you told me you were going to be Medusa."

"Well, yeah... It's perfectly okay, but I would've liked to know before! Also, dressing up as specifically Athena is so you, Hermione, and you look gorgeous, seriously, I'm in love with you. Draco Malfoy who?"

"Is that a confession?" questioned Hermione with a sly smile.

"It's a joke" you clarified rolling your eyes but with a lopsided smile on your face.

"Yeah, sure, truly convincing," your friend said with sarcasm "Anyways, we gotta go now, come on!"

And off you went. You met Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room (Harry had dressed up as a Gryffindor quidditch player who'd been hit in the head by a bludger, and Ron was simply wearing a Chudley Cannons uniform. Boy, if these guys were obsessed with quidditch...) and the four of you headed happily towards the entrance of the castle, where all the students gathered before going to Hogsmeade. In your way there you were able to see a lot of different costumes from the students who were attending your party and you were deeply amused (and amazed) by they're creativity. Wizards should definitely do this more often.

When you finally arrived to the Three Broomsticks, you found the entire place decorated just as you'd imagined, and Madam Rosmerta (whom you'd previously sent a letter asking for her permission to use the place for your party in exchange of a reasonable amount of money, and she very kindly had agreed and even offered to help you with the organisation and setting the ambience too) was just applying the final touches.

"Oh, hello, dears!" she greeted you with a smile; she really was a very beautiful woman, no wonder why Ron and many other students fancied her, "So? What do you think? Is it like you imagined?"

"It definitely is!" you exclaimed looking around the place in awe, "It's truly fantastic, thank you so, so much! Now all we got to do is wait for everybody else to arrive!"

It didn't take too long before the first group of students entered the place, only a couple of minutes after the time of the appointment, and from then on, people just kept flooding the pub.

"All right, guys!" you shouted over the murmurs of the crowd so everybody could hear you and be quiet while you spoke, "Here's what we've got: You are allowed to order two butterbeers free of charge, however, if you want more you'll have to pay them yourselves. Now, there's relatively decent food on that table," you pointed to the table on the corner at your left side," and in that other table next to the entrance you will find a bunch of various sweets that are definitely unhealthy if eaten in excess, so, please, don't get too excited, people," the multitude before you chuckled and you smiled widely," Also, dear Colin here offered to take pictures of whoever asked him to, so if you want one, just let him now... Ah! And I almost forgot, there will be a costume contest at the end, so be sure to write your name down on the scroll that's on that wall,"you said and pointed to the wall opposite to you," if you want to participate. I think that's all for now, so enjoy the party, and Happy Halloween, everybody!"

The crowd cheered and applauded you before returning to their chatting or heading straight to where the food was. You walked towards the bar to tell something to Madam Rosmerta and soon some upbeat Halloween-themed music started playing. At some point, a few students took a corner of the place as improvised dance floor and, frankly, everything was even better than how you'd pictured it at first. And that was saying something.

"Amazing party, (Y/N)! You should totally do this more often!" cheered Fred and George Weasley about and hour after the beginning of the party. They'd dressed up as some quite creepy zombie conjoint twins and you thought it was brilliant.

"Thank you, guys! I'm glad you're having fun!" you shouted over the music, "By the way, I think your costume is brilliant, suits you perfectly!"

"Thanks! Hope it's enough to win that costume contest of yours, but being honest, there's a lot of competition here," Fred replied.

"Yeah, I mean, just look at your costume! You look fantastic!" George continued.

"Oww, well, luckily for you, I'm going to be a judge, so I'm not participating..."

The conversation went on for a couple more minutes until Lee Jordan called the twins to the dance floor.

Although the party was an absolute hit, you couldn't help but think about a certain someone who wasn't there.

"You look a bit disappointed," said Hermione from behind you, making you jump a bit, "Thinking about somebody who didn't come, perhaps?"

Sometimes it was truly scary how Hermione could know so much.

"What? No! What are you talking about?" you asked trying to brush the topic off.

"Will you please stop trying to deny your feelings, (Y/N)?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, it's pretty obvious that Malfoy isn't indifferent to you and, to be fair, I don't really mind! I mean, he's been a lot less annoying since you two started to get along a little better, so go ahead if you fancy him!"

"But what if I don't want to fancy him, Hermione?" you exclaimed finally giving in, "He was pretty awful to us in our first years and, yes, maybe we get along now, and he's been a lot better but... I just... I don't know! I guess I feel a bit guilty about it... Besides,he can still be considerably rude sometimes towards people and, even if we left that aside, what makes you think that he could possibly fancy me? I mean, come on, he didn't even come! And I don't... I don't want to be all head over heels for him or anything, and that's also the reason why I keep denying it! If I talk about it, it becomes more real, so maybe if I simply ignore it, my feelings will go away soon enough!"

Luckily for you, you were wearing your green Medusa makeup, otherwise Hermione would have been able to see your cheeks turn bright red.

"Okay, I understand that..." she said, "But I think you got something wrong there, (Y/N), he did come..."

"What?!"

"He just arrived, look, there he is! It's like you invoked him" You turned to look were Hermione had her eyes fixed. And, of course, she was right, there he was. Looking quite dreamy, but you shouldn't think about that, should you? "I'd give you my whole pep talk, but there's no time, you've got more important things to take care of right now. Just, I don't know, let it flow, okay?... But go on, then! Go with him!" she hurried you. You did as you were told and walked towards him changing your mood instantly and pretending that the previous conversation with Hermione had never happened. Just act normal, you thought.

"So you came!" you greeted him once you'd reached him.

"I did," Draco asserted, "Medusa, huh?" he said looking at you up and down with a raised eyebrow and... was that the spirit of a smirk? Once more your makeup helped you hide your blushing and you tried to act like there weren't some butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

...Ugh, this was exactly why you didn't want to admit you fancied him in the first place!

"Indeed," you replied smirking, "And a vampire, eh? Pretty simple if I'm honest, but you look good."

"I always look good, (Y/L/N), but if I'm honest," he said imitating your tone, "you look pretty good too."

"I always look good, Malfoy."

You explained him what you'd told the crowd at the beginning of the party and he decided to order a butterbeer. Then the conversation between the two of you simply kept on going without much difficulty; for some strange reason the fact that you had feelings for him and yet apparently not a single thing in common with him didn't affect your communication.

"All right, but this is insane," he said at some point, " how did you manage to pull this off? I mean, it must have cost you quite a fortune..."

"Well, I did get help from my friends with the budget, but, yes, I had to negotiate with my parents and trade my Christmas and birthday presents of the next year for some money to do this right."

"You're bloody insane..."

"I think you made that pretty clear when I first invited you to come, and yet here you are," you said with sufficiency, "so I guess I'm not the only one here who's gone a bit nuts."

He huffed and took another sip of his butterbeer. In that moment, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Hermione, who were currently dancing among a bunch of other students, called you and gestured at you to go dance with them. You nodded and turned to Draco in order to tell him that he could stay there while you danced for a while, but before you could articulate anything he said:

"No way you're leaving me here, you're the only person I can actually interact with in a mildly pacific way, so I'm sticking with you."

"Okay... But you're gonna have to dance, then."

"And you think am not qualified for the task?" he asked with his usual smirk.

"Are you really always such a showoff?"

"Only when I'm trying to impress somebody," that answer definitely took you by surprise, but you didn't have the chance to say anything, 'cause he added, "Go on, then, they're waiting for you. I'll go right behind."

And so you danced with your friends. And he danced. And you two danced together. And it was pretty unbelievable for everyone, including you, but nobody seemed to mind since they had never seen Draco in such an unproblematic mood.

A couple of hours later, the costume contest finally took place. The prize for the winner was a special package of sweets you'd prepared plus five galleons... Yeaaah, you'd definitely put a lot of effort in the planning of your party, and it had been completely worth it so far.

All the participants formed a line so each one could walk around showing their costume just as if it were a fashion runway. Meanwhile, you were arranging the seats for the judges. And, as a matter of fact, you had one judge missing. Your intention at first had been that there were four judges in the panel, nonetheless, since both Harry and Ron had declined the offer because they wanted to participate, you were only three: Madam Rosmerta, Hermione and yourself. And all the people you trusted also wanted to take part in it, so it seemed that you'd have to settle with only three judges. Unless...

"Hey, Draco!" Wait, since when did you address him by his first name? Oooh, this was getting out of control... You shouldn't have said anything!

"What is it?" he asked from the seat he had taken at some nearby table, just like all the other students who wouldn't take part in the contest, and were happy to simply watch, had done.

"Well, I was wondering..." you began doubtfully, "if you would like to be a judge too?"

"Me? A judge?" He frowned. "Why?"

"Because I wanted there to be four, but I've got one missing. And I think you'd make a fair judge, as long as you keep your good mood and you're not rude to our contestants... So?" you said bitting your lip.

"Erm, all right. Can't promise I won't be tough on them, though" there was that smirk again.

"Oh, shut up," you said playfully," You can be tough, just not rude. There's a difference."

And so the contest began.

An hour flew by and sooner than you'd expected, you found yourself deliberating with your three judges on whose costume was the best. A task which was pretty hard to do. Harder than you'd expected, actually.

At the moment, you had managed to leave only three finalists, each one provided by one of your fellow judges, and you were the one with the final word. The problem was that you couldn't make up your mind.

"I'm telling you!" Hermione insisted, "Harry's costume should win! It's creative and original and very thorough!"

"Granger, you're only saying that because he's your friend," intervened Draco," but come on! That kid with the Dementor costume? He is literally floating! And he's like in second grade or so! I really think he's the one who should win."

"Well, he definitely portrays a dementor better than you did in third year..." the girl countered.

"All right, guys, don't fight, we gotta make a decision quickly and you're getting on my nerves. Yes, both of you..."

"I still say that those Weasley twins are a lot of fun... They should win if you ask me," Madam Rosmerta mentioned, already losing interest in the matter; looking at three teenagers argue over a costume contest wasn't exactly her definition of "fun".

"Yeah, but they're costume is not as complex as Harry's, (Y/N)!" Hermione reiterated.

"But Potter is not floating, now, is he?" Draco retorted.

"Merlin's beard, you guys! Will you both please shut up?" you scolded, "If I'm completely honest, I wouldn't even consider any of them as my first option, I would choose Padma Patil!" you paused for a second thinking what to say next to state your point, "I mean, she dressed up as Celestina Warbeck! Are you joking? That's bloody brilliant if you ask me! And not only that but she brought Lavender, Parvati and that other girl whose name I don't remember at the moment as her Banshees! Come on! Creative, original... Besides, look at her dress! It looks pretty thorough to me! And yeah, she may not be floating," you added turning to Draco," but she's enchanted her necklace to play 'You stole my cauldron but you can't have my heart' to look like she's actually singing!"

There were a couple of seconds of silence, until Draco decided to break it.

"Then why on earth didn't you say that from the very beginning, (Y/L/N)?"

"Because you were so determined to say who you thought should win that I didn't want to cause more trouble with the decision!"

"Well, as a matter of fact, it makes it a lot easier for me," said Madam Rosmerta, "that girl and her friends were my second option. I simply love Celestina Warbeck."

"She was my third option, so I guess I don't mind," Draco stated shrugging and then leaned back on his chair.

You looked at Hermione.

"Well, yeah... She wasn't in my top three, but it's fine for me", she didn't sound entirely convinced, but it was enough.

"Okay, then..." you said finally, a little surprised by the result, yet satisfied," Brilliant! Then we've got our winner!"

The four of you stood up; Hermione, Draco and you walked to the center of the improvised runway while Madam Rosmerta simply returned to the back of the bar, clearly not wanting to take part in the decision-making of some fifteen-year-olds anymore.

"So, before we announce our winner, I wanted to say something," you began, "As you can see, it was quite difficult for us to make a decision, because all of your costumes are amazing. I truly think so! You're so creative and fun, and believe me when I say that if I had a larger budget I'd probably give prizes to all of you," you chuckled softly, " unfortunately, it isn't the case, so we had to choose only one... Are you ready to know who won?"

The multitude shouted a very enthusiastic "Yes" as response.

"All right, then... Padma Patil, congratulations, you and your Banshees are the winners!"

There were cheers, applause and a few disappointed sighs, but everybody seemed to be as satisfied with the decision as you. You gave the four girls their prize and the music started playing once more. However, the party was coming to its end and a lot of people were already saying their goodbyes and leaving. Therefore, before anything else could happen, you grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him all the way to where Colin Creevy was taking a few pictures of some third year students.

"What are you doing?"

"We're gonna take some pictures," you stated, "I've already got a few with Harry, Ron and Hermione, but since you arrived late..."

He didn't even get the chance to protest, because in that moment the third year students left and you dragged him once more to the spot where they'd been posing.

"What the... What am I supposed to do?" he inquired with a slight note of panic in his voice.

"Dunno, just think of cool poses! We've got two shots, so think fast!"

Your first shot was of you two in an average pose, you know, just smiling, you leaning on his shoulder, his arm around your waist and the butterflies in your stomach going a bit crazier about it.

"What now?!"

"I don't know! It's not like I'm used to doing this!" he exclaimed.

"I thought you were Draco bloody Malfoy, aren't you known enough to get a lot of pictures? You should be used to it!"

"I don't get a lot of fun pictures with weird poses!"

"Well, think of something then!" Colin could do nothing but stare in amusement at your absurd argument, trying to suppress his laughter.

"You think of something!" Draco countered.

"Why am I the one who always has to think of everything? Use your brain, mister!"

And you'd barely finished your sentence when, without a warning and almost against any common sense left on both of you, Draco's lips crushed against yours, his hands grabbing the sides of your face eagerly. Only an instant later he pulled away and looked at you, with his usually pale cheeks coloured in a bright shade of pink and his moon-like eyes reflecting the panic of maybe having done something very wrong. However, he quickly intended to hide it:

"Was that a proper use of my brain, miss?

You were flabbergasted. Totally. The whole night had been utter madness for you since this boy arrived... But it wasn't a bad type of madness, you were delighted. You fancied him. And now you knew that it was mutual.

"Well... Sure... but why did you stop?" you murmured, just inches away from his face, and then smiled bitting your lip. You saw his whole face lighten up as he smiled broadly, just before leaning in to kiss you once more, this time more passionately and intensely than before. You could feel the cold touch of his family ring against the soft skin of your cheeks, contrasting with the warmth of his palms.

The camera flashed and that single incredible moment was captured forever in a picture that would last for a long, long time, kept in scrapbooks and family photo albums.

"Oh, crap..." you grumbled after you pulled away the second time.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse due to the kiss.

"Now I'm going to have to do Ronald's homework for a week!"

[no-droids]

The Sun on Both Sides

Summary: Cassian Andor is your very close companion.  He says best friend, you say pain in your ass—neither one of you are entirely wrong.  But then one night you smoke some unfamiliar spice with him, and everything you once thought you knew goes sideways.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cassian Andor/fem!Reader

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: SMUT, sex pollen (therefore DUB-CON by default), recreational drug use, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, dirty talk, oral sex (both male and female receiving), penetrative sex, me just making so much shit up honestly

A/N: All phrases in Festan are taken from other Star Wars conlangs.  I don’t even know if that’s the name of the language people from Fest speak tbh.  Probably not.  None of this is real.  Anyways this is Cassian as a young rebel pilot long before the events of Rogue One.  This oneshot will likely be deemed obsolete by Cassian’s new Disney+ show but whoooooooops~

—knock knock knock knock knock—

You know that knock.  It’s too quick, too rapid and annoying to be anyone else.

“I’m sleeping,” you huff with your mouth full, sitting on top of your mattress in a hoodie and sweatpants, legs crossed.

“I have gifts,” Cassian’s muffled voice asserts from the other side of the door.

“I don’t care,” you return, swallowing and shoveling more slop together with your tiny little biodegradable spork.  “S’the middle of the night.”

—knock knock knock knock knock—

“Stop it.”

“Knock knock,” he beckons vocally, as if you didn’t hear it the first ten times.  “Come, open the door.  Please—I will get into trouble.”

It’s exhausting being Cassian’s friend.  Truly exhausting.  It doesn’t matter what Maker-forsaken time it is, as soon as he comes back to base from patrols, he’s at your door.  You don’t know why he chose you as his sole victim to personally inflict this torture upon, but regardless of reason, he’s called you his close friend ever since you first offered to help the lanky, dark-haired six year old with his Basic and his best friend ever since your junior year of flight training.  Apparently with the promotion came the lingering, severe misfortune of his present company, almost always.

“Can I put in for a transfer?”  He also technically outranks you.

“Open the door and we will talk,” Cassian bargains.  Bantha shit, you and him both know it.  He’ll rip the papers in half before you can even finish filling them out.

You let out a dramatic groan just loud enough for him to hear, dragging yourself off the bed and padding over to the door.  “If I accept your gift, will you leave?”

“Maybe.”  No.

“If I accept your gift and trade it for the rest of this, uh,” you look at the MRE packet in your hands, “rice and shredded tauntaun meat in glockaw sauce, will you leave?”

“Maybe.”  No.

“Good call, not as great as it sounds.  What if I—”

He says your name impatiently, accented and sharp.  You roll your eyes as his knuckles rap on the door once more.  “Quickly, quickly—before someone sees.”

“It’s the residential quarters and it’s two in the fucking morning, Cass, nobody’s going t—”

He cuts you off once more.  “Open the door and I will submit for your transfer work, yes?”

You throw your spork prong-down into the beige pouch in your hands and pop your hip, narrowing your eyebrows at the thick slab of metal separating the two of you skeptically.  “No, you won’t.”

“No, I will not,” the voice behind it concedes immediately.  “But for you, I will pretend.”

As soon as you the door slides open and disappears up into the ceiling with a quiet shhhft sound, his dark silhouette quickly slips past you and sneaks into your room, immediately bouncing his bony little butt down on top of your sizable but thin box-spring mattress without a word.  You press the button to close the door behind him with a long, drawn out sigh, turning around and resting your back against the wall panel.

Cassian meets your tired, expectant gaze head-on and wide awake, perched on your bed and huddled around something hidden in his thick jacket.  “First.  You cannot tell anyone.  Understand?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.  “Are we children, Cass?”

“Secondly.”  He blinks up at you.  Maker, his eyes are so… wide.  Dark and warm and bright, framed with thick, long lashes.  “If you do not want it, just say.  Okay?”

Your expression suddenly narrows.  This is new.  It’s… still bantha shit, but it’s… new.  New bantha shit.

“Because the word ‘no’ holds so much meaning for you,” you tilt your head to gesture at the door to your right, “clearly.”

“Come.  Sit here,” he ignores you, patting the space next to him as if that isn’t your own fucking bed he’s inviting you to join him on.  “We will look together.”

“I will literally murder you,” you tell him genuinely, though you push off the wall to move toward him all the same.  “If that’s not a cute little mini-lothcat in your arms you got me for my birthday, Andor, I will literally murder you.”

“Today is your birthday?”  He glances up at you in surprise just as you’re lowering yourself down onto the mattress next to him.

“Two weeks ago, but you were off-base.”  You dig around inside the pouch for your handy little spork, not looking at him.  “Quit avoiding the subject, my death threat still stands.  Where’s my cat, asshole?  Who do I have to tolerate in my bed this late at night to push that kind of paperwor—oof—”

The second you catch the hard little end piece of it between your fingers is the second he reaches around you and pulls you into a tight, one-armed hug.  You fumble with the packet of food as you’re abruptly jerked forward, trying not to let it get squished it between you.

Stars, he smells good.  His parka smells just like him, the fur lining its hood so warm and fluffy and soft as it tickles your nose.  It’s still slightly damp from the wet sleet outside, but it smells so good.  The smallest undercurrent of clove and spice hidden beneath the sharp, clean scent of fresh snow.

“Happy Year-Over, caraya,” Cassian says next to your ear, quiet and fond.  “I know it is late, but I have your gift now.”

“‘Caraya’ better be Festan for ‘here’s your cute little lothcat, birthday girl’,” you warn him, moving to rest your chin on top of his padded shoulder and trying not to sound as breathless or affected by his sweet talking as you feel.  He’s never called you that before.  Caraya.  What does it mean?

It’s… it’s bantha shit, you remind yourself, trying not to close your eyes or lean into his half-embrace.  It’s all bantha shit.

“No,” Cassian acknowledges with a small head tilt, pulling his shoulder back but still keeping his long arm wrapped tight around you.  “No.  Not a… a cat, but…”  He slowly opens his other hand between the two of you, finally showing you.

You blink down at the thing in his palm, cradled carefully in thick gloves from the sub-zero temperatures outside.  It’s.  No, he’s right, it’s not a cat.  It’s a… a stick.  Reddish-pink, ground up plant matter wrapped in a semi-transparent binding.  Rolled up in a nice, even cylinder, a filter secured around one of its ends.

Spice.  Hand-rolled.  Expensive.  Probably swiped off a supply raid, whether by Cassian himself or another rebel fighter he bought it off of.  Ludicrous he got his hands on it, much less brought it on base.  Here, to your fucking quarters.

“I was wrong,” you eventually say, taking the joint from his open palm and holding it up to examine its strange color in the dim light.  “You don’t think we’re children.  You think we’re teenagers.”

“I think we are adults,” he corrects, swiping the MRE from your other hand, “with a reason to celebrate.”  He releases you and takes his arm back, sitting on your bed and digging two fingers around in your half-finished packet for your spork.

“You’re a bold pilot, Cass,” you tell him, studying the spice.  You’ve never seen any strain even similar to this before.  “It was one thing to do this during flight training, but now?  What happens if we have a piss test tomorrow?  Or, well—today, actually?”

“Different kind from before.”  He doesn’t sound bothered by the thought, though his mouth is currently full of tauntaun and rice in glockaw sauce.  “Only five hours high, not detectable after.  Piss tests are expensive, the rebellion has no money.”

“X-wings are expensive, too,” you counter, turning to look at him.  “You crash one of ‘em ‘cause you smoked this shit and your ass will be dead before you can even survive.”

“You hurt me.”  He uses the utensil to dig around the bottom corners of the packet for more slop, not looking hurt in the least.  “Also—you were right.  This one is… horrible.”

“Not to mention I have a oh-nine-hundred call.”  You both watch each other with matching looks of distaste as he continues to eat your food, clearly neither one of you enjoying it.  “You’re giving me barely two hours to come down before I got orange jumpsuits crawling all over me.”

“You did not hear?”  Cassian swallows.  “Reassigned Dreis during debriefing.  I will be leading red squadron tomorrow.  Or, today.”

You blink at him.  “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he shakes his head exactly once, throwing the spork into the empty packet and flattening it.  “No, I would not do that to you.”

“Course not,” you agree diplomatically.  “You’d just barge into my room at two in the morning, eat my food, offer me drugs, and then tell me I’ll be taking orders from you tomorrow.”

”Today,” he corrects.  “But I could not get our call changed, and for that I am sorry.”  He lifts an eyebrow at you, quirking the side of his mouth up and pushing the empty MRE pouch into your hands to throw away.  “But only for that.  Happy birthday?”

“We’re going to lose this war,” you tell him honestly, sliding off your mattress with a sigh to trash it.  “We’re all going to die horribly, and painfully.  The Rebellion is fucking doomed.  You and I will be but a mere footnote in the Empire’s endless reign of terror, you realize.  A footnote.  Our names at the very, very bottom of the page, in tiny little six point font, and it’ll link to a one sentence obituary for the both of us.  Died horribly and in pain.  Did you bring a lighter?”

“Here,” Cassian shifts to one buttcheek and pulls an arc lighter from his back pocket, offering it to you when you come back.  “Okay?  You will start it then?  Birthday girl.”

“You said five hours for one person, right?  So that’s two and a half each if we split it,” you reason with a shrug, putting the filter to your lips and talking through the side of your mouth.  “Two o’clock right now, nine-hundred call.  At least four hours to come down, and thirty minutes to shower if we’re both lucky.”

“We will be fine.”  He waves your careful calculations away with his hand as you flick the lighter.  “Because we are lucky feetnotes, yes?”

***

You’re not fine.

It’s fucking boiling in here.  Maker, you’re on fucking Hoth; why the fuck are you boiling?  It’s never even been warm in your quarters before, much less this hot.  You feel like you’re sweating buckets through your hoodie, your hair sticking to your neck in thin little curls.

And… and Cassian.

He’s sitting so unbelievably straight on the bed across from you, parka and gloves long abandoned on the floor.  His dark eyes flick over to you occasionally, though it looks like he’s trying really hard not to move a single muscle other than that.  His hands are clamped tightly between his thighs and he just… holds there.  A compact, rigid statue perched upright on the mattress, looking far too still and tense to fit the comfort of his surroundings.

“Are you okay?”  You ask him, blinking at how hoarse your voice comes out sounding.  Holy fuck, your mouth feels like a desert.  

Cassian stares at you, and for some reason, his large, expressive eyes seem even wider now.  They’re glassy and a bit red, but also so big and lovely and framed with long, dark lashes.

“This is not.”  His accent sounds thicker, words coming out deeper in his throat.  It settles down inside you just right and you feel a spark of heat at the base of your spine.  He blinks twice.  “This is not how it usually feels.”

“Should we stop?”  You look down at the half-finished joint in your hand, tilting your head thoughtfully as you consider the drug pulsing through your veins.  “It’s… it’s different, but I think it feels good.”

“Yes—I…”  He closes his eyes.  “Th-that is the problem, I think.”

He shifts a bit on the mattress and bites down on his bottom lip, and you must look so fucking dumb as you stare at him with your jaw slack, watching his lithe body stretch and handle the spice.  He’s fucking gorgeous.  Stars, you always thought he was gorgeous, but this is something else.  He flutters his eyes open to look at you through his lashes, and—

—oh.  Oh.  You see now.  You see what he meant.  Warmth pools deep down in your tummy as he looks at you with impossibly dark eyes, slowly drags his glassy gaze down your body.  Fuck, you’re getting turned on.  You go red and blink softly at him while he stares at you, trying to control your breathing.

“You need to—” your voice jumps, trying to remember the right cadence.  How do you speak to him normally?  “You can… take—take my pillow, if you want.  Lay down.  You’re too tall, your eyes are too big.  Look like a… like a Kaminoan.  Heal any—heal any clones recently?”

Bad joke.  Maker, he’s so beautiful.  Rich, dark features taking you in, blinking slowly at you and clearly not hearing a single word you said.

You shift your weight and throw him the cushion you’re partially sitting on without waiting for an answer.  You both need to calm the fuck down.  Hopefully the pillow will help.  Even if it’s squished and warm from your butt.  “It’s warm ‘cause I was sitting on it, m’sorry.  Fuck, it’s warm in here.  Do you think it’s warm in here?”

It’s like he still doesn’t hear you.  Cassian just takes your flattened pillow in his lap and looks at it for way too long, slowly rubs the fabric on the corner between his fingers and examines it, like if he tries hard enough he’ll be able to see through it.

“Cass,” you eventually call his name in reminder.  “Lay down, put that under your head—”

“Do you feel turned on?”  He asks quite suddenly, whipping his head to the side to look at you.  You almost drop the spice.

“No,” you say immediately, acting on impulse alone and trying to rearrange your face into something… something negative.  Something just generally negative, because you can’t even think of a negative emotion specific enough with the way your heart is pounding at the thought of something like this actually happening right now.  Holy fuck, you’re sweating.  What the fuck is in this shit?  “No, of course not.”

“Of course not,” he nods, turning back to look at your pillow.  “Me too.  Not.”  He shakes his head.  “Neither.  Either?”

“Lay down,” you tell him once more, desperately needing something else to do now, something to distract yourself from the way your lower muscles are starting to cramp up with heat and arousal.  “I’ll get us some water.  We need water.”

You’re off the bed and setting the smoldering spice on the small metal counter without another word, grabbing two empty cups and beginning to fill them up in the tiny little sink with your back to him. 

Stars, he was right.  It’s not supposed to feel like this.  It feels… it feels like everything is burning inside you, but such a good burn.  Like your mind is being seduced by your own body right now instead of the other way around, and the paradoxical sensation is manifesting itself in an unprecedentedly strong urge to jump your best friend’s bones.  The urge has always been there, granted, but it’s never been this shameless before.  Never arced and pulsed so brilliantly in your veins before, never been steadily fed by such a tempting outside source.  Not the drugs—but him.  The tangible fuck-me vibes Cassian is radiating towards you right now, staring at your back with those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his, silent and unmoving behind you as he watches you from your bed.  He’s never done anything to encourage your desire for him like this before.  He’s never wanted anything more than just platonic companionship and playful banter in the midst of war zones from you, and yet you can feel the heat burning from him too, feel it start to intensify your own high.

It’s bantha shit, you have to realize.  This whole Maker-forsaken situation—it’s forced; none of it’s real.  Cassian is your best friend, and he’s only looking at you like this because spice is chemically altering his hormones right now.  You can feel it doing the same to you, just steadily stirring deep in your floor muscles and amplifying your baser desires, but you need to snap yourself the fuck out of it and be the levelheaded one here.  Despite the arousal burning hot in your tummy, at least you know your thoughts are still fundamentally sound—in contrast, you have no fucking clue what’s going on in that hard head of his right now.  At least one of you needs to buck up, handle your drugs, and be the adult before things get out of hand.  If it falls to you, then so be it.

You focus on your breathing and do as much as you can to mentally will the tingling sensation down deep.  Taking a second to put a comfortable expression on, you finally turn around and start walking back to him.

When you raise your head and make eye contact with Cassian again though, the look in his eyes almost immediately threatens to undo everything you just decided.  Fuck, he looks like he just had an internal pep talk of his own, but in the entirely wrong direction you went.  He’s a bit more relaxed now, same as you, but his gaze is now searing hot on your body, tangible enough to stop you dead in your tracks in front of him.  It burns through you, and you literally feel the sweat drip down your back as a shiver rolls down your spine.

No.  Hold strong.  Maker, irresponsibility has always been appealing but never so fucking seductive as this is, has it?  Taking such a gorgeous fucking form.  You take a few more steps forward, quickly trying to gather composure.

“Should we stop?”  You ask him once more and stars, you were aiming for calmer and gentler and with more lung support—not this breathless scrape of a sound that feels like sandpaper in your throat.  He hasn’t said a fucking word and your resolve is already wavering.  You try not to make eye contact as you carefully hand him one of the cups.  “We’re only twenty minutes in, barely halfway through it.  We can stop and coast, it’s not a big deal.”

Cassian takes the water from your outstretched hand, letting the tips of his fingers brush lightly across yours in the process.  Your heart skips in your chest.  “Do you want to stop?”

You absolutely should fucking stop.  Just standing here and handing him water without ripping your clothes off is a challenge; you’ve still got half a joint left and you’re not even sure you’ve reached the come-up yet.  What if this is just the beginning?  What if this is just laying the foundation?  What happens when you actually peak on this shit?

“It’s not a big deal,” you repeat instead, keeping your answer as ambiguous as possible and taking a sip of the blessedly cold liquid.  At least the water is responding correctly to the frigid environment on this horrible fucking planet.  You feel ready to burn up.  “Just wanna make sure you’re cool.”

Cassian flicks his eyes over to the joint still cherried and smoking on the metal counter behind you.  “We can keep going.”

Your breathing picks up slightly.  Does he know what he’s really asking right now?  He has to have figured out what that spice does by now, right?  But no, he’s so steadfast in the way he looks at you, blinking up at you confidently.  Fuck, you should stop.  You should stop.

You should… compromise?

“If we keep going, no more of this,” you tell him, gesturing to the way he still hasn’t moved or drank any of the water in his cup.  “You need to.  Chill out, alright.  Act normal.”

Fuck, you’re normally so blunt and outspoken with him, so why is it that everything happening here is so fucking unsaid?  Everything is transpiring right below the surface, a conversation taking place within another conversation.  You’re telling him to cut the heart eyes, lay back on the bed and spend some rare quality time with his best friend.  Regardless of the weird side effects, this spice is still giving you an incredibly strong body high.  If he could just stop looking at you like that so you can stop rhythmically clenching and pulsing between your legs, you’d probably be incredibly relaxed right now.

“I will lay down,” he finally agrees, breaking eye contact with you and grabbing the pillow from his lap so he can throw it down next to him.  “Go, get the rest of it.”

“Drink.”  You stay rooted to your spot.

He gulps down the entire cup of water right in front of you, and something about how sassy and exaggerated it is makes you unwind just a bit and head back for the spice.

This is better, you think.  Butting heads with your strong personalities is better than whatever mind games you two were playing before, more familiar and grounding.  Cassian sets down his empty cup on the floor as you pick up the joint, and then you sit on the edge of the mattress across from him when you come back.

“So how were patrols?”  You ask him, taking another hit of it and studying the strange color it burns as you hold the smoke in your lungs, almost a light pink.

“Not bad,” he says, scooting back to lay lengthwise across the back of the bed.  His long legs stick off the end but he looks way more comfortable now, settling back into the pillow and watching you with a calmer, more easy-going look in his eyes.

“Where’d you get sent this time?”  You have to lean forward quite a bit to hand him the spice.

“The Lothal Sector,” Cassian responds casually, taking it from you.

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, already unamused before he’s even started to mess with you.  “I will shoot down red leader tomorrow, Cass, don’t you dare fucking test m—”

“A local was trying to sell kittens to the pilots,” he goes on, completely ignoring you and relaxing back down into the mattress with the joint between his fingers.  “They were very cute.  But then I tell him no, because I did not know of anyone who could care for one.”

“That’s not fucking funny.” Cassian smiles slowly at you as you glare back at him very, very sternly.  “This is a no lothcat joking zone, I’m sensitive about this.”

He keeps smiling even as he takes his hit, gentle and fond and lovely on his face, but his eyes eventually go softer and a bit melancholy on the exhale.  

“I am sorry I missed your birthday, caraya,” he says to you truthfully, something sincere and tender in the way he looks at you.  “But I will get you something better than a cat.”

“What does that mean?”  You lean forward and grab the spice from him when he holds it out for you.

“No idea,” he admits during the careful exchange.  “Maybe something with less claws and teeth, I think.”

“No,” you shake your head, settling back on your butt once more.  “Caraya.  What does that mean?”

Cassian quickly opens his mouth to reply, but then pauses and takes a second.  As if he’s debating on what exactly he wants to tell you.  You inhale from the spice held between your fingers and wait patiently for him.  Probably something to do with birthdays, right?  Since he only started calling you that after you told him he missed yours.

You end up waiting for his answer so long, you actually feel like you should take another hit.  But when Cassian does eventually speak, it’s incredibly calculated and slow, like he’s actively trying to find the correct words to translate its exact meaning into Basic.

“Fest is part of a binary star system,” he finally tells you, breaking the silence.  “It is… it is what my people call the times when… when one of the stars sets while the other is rising on the opposite horizon.”

You pause with the joint halfway to your mouth, staring dumbly at him.

“It is rare.  I have seen it only twice.  Each time, for less than a minute.  It is very rare for them to match up perfectly, but when they do.”  His eyes go a bit softer, losing himself in his memories instead of concentrating so much on the words.  “The sky shines with every color.  Reds, yellows, and pinks to the west; blues, indigos, and violets to the east.  It is… it is also… something we call the ones close to us,” he continues, blinking his gaze slowly back to you.  “Caraya na cotâ vi zas iz’búsdari.  To care and be cared for is to feel the sun on both sides.”

You… you just keep staring at him.  Blank, unmoving, not really even breathing.  Your chest suddenly feels incredibly tight.  He looks back at you and stars, he looks so fucking gorgeous; long lashes dusting over his cheekbones at this angle, one hand resting lazily over his abdomen as he relaxes on your bed.

“It sounds…”  You sound winded.  “Lovely.”

“Yes,” Cassian returns softly, tilting his head on your pillow and blinking at you.  “It is.”

You don’t know why the fuck you thought this would be okay, honestly.  This whole thing was such a horrendous fucking idea right from the start.  You’re surprised you haven’t set the both of you on fire by dropping the lit spice between your fingers.  You were a fucking idiot to think you could resist him.  You were overconfident, underestimating him the way you did.  It’s like… like he’s approaching this in surges, almost.  Lulling you into a false sense of security for a bit, and then carefully pushes forward, toeing the line between best friend and person he wants to fuck and seeing how much you’ll let him get away with.

You’re… you’re a weak, spineless little thing.

“Is it—is it your turn?” You eventually ask him, looking down at the joint in your hands.  It’s barely above a whisper and it’s vaguely squeaky and it’s probably one of the dumbest fucking things you’ve ever asked in your life.  Of course it’s his turn, who the fuck else’s turn would it be?  

Cassian would normally rip into you for being such an idiot, but he doesn’t.  He just blinks softly at you, pupils dilated and glassy as they take you in.

“Would you like to…”  He sounds equally breathless now, swallowing thickly before he speaks again.  “You can… come closer, if you want.  Here.  With me.”  He pats his belly.  “No more reaching.”

What is… what is happening right now?  Is Cassian Andor actually, like—for real making a move on you?  His best friend?  The one he’s never looked twice at?

“You want me to…?”  Your cunt clenches.  Stars, you’re so wet already.  You can feel it, dampening your underwear as his eyes flutter slightly at the rasp in your voice.

“Come,” he pats his stomach once more.  “Lay down with me.”

You slowly begin to shuffle over to him on shaky knees, trying to move normally as he watches you.  He stretches out across the back of the bed, giving you a perfect spot along his open torso to relax into.  Your heart pounds as you carefully hand the spice to him before settling yourself on your back with your head on his tummy, making a little perpendicular t-shape with him on the mattress, vision slightly blurry but pulsing at the same time.

Maker, he smells so fucking good.  He smells like fresh snow and something warm at the same time, so lean and long above you.  You’re almost panting now, burning up in your thick layers as you try to get comfortable.

“Maker, it’s so fucking hot in here,” you whisper, using your sleeve to wipe the sweat gathering at your temples.  “Fuck.”

“Take off your shirt,” Cassian suggests quietly, and your mouth instantly goes bone dry, your chest forgetting to rise again after it collapses with a quick whoosh of breath.  “You have something on underneath, yes?”  He adds quickly before you can completely ignite in flames.  “Take off the top one.”

You… you have a thin undershirt on, but nothing underneath that.  It’s nearing three in the morning, of course you don’t have a bra on right now.  And the undershirt is white, and you’re sweating buckets, which means—

“It… it might show some…”  You have no clue how to phrase this, but Cassian quickly responds.

“It is just me,” he reassures, carefully reaching his arm around your head to hold the joint up to your lips for you.  You inhale the drug deeply, watching the pink light illuminate the tips of his fingers.  “We are best friends, and this is your room.  You should relax.”

Maker, this is… this is dangerous.  He’s dangerous.  He’s smart, choosing to go at it from this angle.  He’s not toeing the line anymore, he’s just… blurring it until it doesn’t exist anymore.  Or better yet, just walking over it and pretending it doesn’t exist at all.  Pretending nothing at all is happening between you right now.  Trying to see whether you’ll be more willing to give in if he comes at you from the side like this, not necessarily catching you off guard but refusing to outright confront you about it either.

Apparently precedent rules.  You’re a weak, spineless little thing, especially when presented with such a compelling out.  He’s… he’s totally right.  You are best friends, this is your room, and you should relax.  Nothing sexual about it at all, right?  Furthermore, relaxing trumps overheating any fucking day of the week, so… so that’s why you tell yourself it’s okay to sit up and immediately reach behind your head, grabbing the hoodie and beginning to pull the thick fabric off.  

Only, it’s damp and clings to your thin undershirt, dragging both of them up the length of your back as it goes.  You stop when the lower hem pulls up just below your breasts, trying to reach back behind your head even further and separate the two materials but struggling with the angle.

“Cass,” you eventually prompt, trying not to flush.  Not like he’d be able to tell, though; you’ve been unbearably warm and fidgety this entire time, your embarrassment conceals itself without your assistance.  “You wanna help me?  Or you just wanna keep watching?”

“Do not ask me such stupid questions,” he tells you plainly, unmoving.  “What did I say?  We are best friends.  Of course I am not going to help you.  You are…” he trails off when you lift your shoulders upright just a bit to see if the angle will work better that way.  It does, but the fabric drags further up your ribcage from the shift, “…You are nice to watch.”

Your heart pounds, and you’re even clumsier knowing he’s staring at your exposed tummy right now.  Maker, this should not be as difficult as it is.  You swing your arms back around behind you, arching outwards and trying to separate them from the bottom this time, but gravity doesn’t appear to work in your favor.  

Maybe you can do like, some sort of weird, half-and-half thing to get them apart?  Maybe?  Where you hold the undershirt from the bottom with one hand and pull the hoodie from the top with the other?

Yes, okay—that could possibly work.  Cassian inhales more spice as he lazes behind you, getting a front row seat to watch this subsequent genius unfold.

You get into your monkey-like position, beginning to pry the two materials apart from behind like you planned.  But then—oh, your undershirt still sticks to your hoodie at the front, pulling up a few inches with it and flashing the lower curve of your breasts to the room before you immediately halt and switch tactics, reaching back down and trying to pull them apart from the front withou—

A large, warm palm comes up to settle on your bare spine, right in the middle of your shoulder blades.

You freeze.  But Cassian doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything more than that.  He just holds his hand there, steady and solid against your upper back.

Neither one of you move.  It’s like… it’s like you’re both trying so hard to get a read on each other that your reactions are equally stunted.  Is he doing this to bring you to a still so he can help you?  Is he simply as blazed as you are right now and not thinking about things before he does them?  Is he—

But then Cassian starts slowly dragging his hand down your spine, carefully riding the gentle curve of it downwards as your breathing subtly picks up.  Your arms are halfway caught in the fabric, not able to stop him unless you untangle them and reach behind you.  So you just hold there statuesquely as his palm inches down the sweat-slick muscles of your lower back, thumb just barely brushing the hemline of your sweatpants.  

Fuck, you feel like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin.  Heat pools deep in your tummy, spidering outwards and sending pulsing shocks down your legs when he keeps his hand there for just a second.

Until… until he traces all the way back up and carefully hooks a finger around your undershirt.  

Your heart pounds as Cassian gradually pulls it over the top of your head with your hoodie, guiding you to bring both of them around your arms.  He pushes against your shoulder wordlessly, urging you to lie back down with your head on his stomach once more, the fabric stretched tight over your upper-body and the entire length of your spine now fully exposed as it touches the mattress.

“C-Cassian,” you breathe, fluttering your eyes up at the ceiling.

“Yes, caraya?”  He murmurs, and you completely forget what you’re going to say when he continues to pull the hoodie and undershirt down over your arms, exposing your naked breasts to the open air.

Your cunt pulses between your legs and you hear him throw the thick bulk of fabric carelessly on the floor.  “I—I-I don’t—”

“You will stay like this?”  Cassian tells you softly, brushing your damp hair back from your shoulder so that your bare chest is completely unobstructed as it faces the ceiling.  Your nipples are hard, a thin sheen of sweat covering your entire body, and you can feel his gaze drag down your naked skin, even if he doesn’t actually touch you.  No, he just takes another slow drag from the spice in his hand and tilts his head back to rest on your pillow, relaxing into the mattress with a gentle shuffle of his shoulder blades.  “If you are too warm, you will stay like this, okay?  Be comfortable.”

Is it possible to die from arousal?  Your clit is fucking pounding; everything from the waist down is unbearably tight and cramped.  Stars, you feel like you’ll cum if you even move wrong right now.  He told you to be comfortable, but you’re not—you’re boiling from the sensation, topless on your bed, trying not to close your eyes or squeeze your legs together.  It’s too fucking casual and unacknowledged, how he’s going about this.  You feel like you’re going to explode.

Cassian gently taps your bare shoulder to get your attention and shifts his head slightly to look down at you.  You bite your bottom lip and flutter your gaze sideways to meet his after a second, hoping you don’t look as flushed and tight with burning arousal as you feel.  Deep brown eyes look back at you, hazy and dilated.  He takes a second to slowly drag his gaze down the length of your half-naked body once more, now that he knows you’re watching him.  Your breath comes audibly now, quicker and shallower than it should be after laying flat on a bed for this long.

“Here,” Cassian prompts, holding the smoldering joint out for you to take.  His voice sounds raspier now, but still so… casual.  Like he’s out here talking about the weather with a mildly sore throat, not because your tits are out while you stare at each other and neither one of you is saying a damn thing about it.  It’s like he’s determined to hold onto the splitting tension, drag it out between you as long as he can.  “Want more?”

You know what he’s really asking, and it cramps your lower muscles up even harder.  He’s asking if you want more of this spice that’s currently getting you naked in front of him.  More of this madness, twisting up your insides with need and jumbling your thoughts.  More of him treating you like this, like there’s not a damn thing out of place in the universe right now, like you’re still just best friends so that’s why it’s okay you’re both doing this together.

Stars, do you want more?  Do you want him to keep winding you up like this?  More of this torture, this agonizing foreplay, wondering when he’ll finally give in and touch you?  Pretending like this is still completely platonic, like what’s happening here isn’t wildly unprecedented, insanely inappropriate, and so fucking hot?

You can feel your eyebrows pull up in the middle as you look at him, almost pleading with him to… something.  To stop, maybe?  Stop altogether, or just stop… fuck, stop ignoring the way your cunt feels clamped around itself tighter than a vice between your legs?  Stop neglecting your burning desire for him, even when it’s right in front of his face.  Stop refusing to acknowledge the way you’re just letting him look at you right now, how you haven’t once stopped playing along with this fever dream just in case you aren’t imagining it?  Fuck, but Cassian just looks back at you, his expression completely blank except for the smallest little glimmer in his eyes.  A silent, heated glint as he just barely quirks an eyebrow at you.

So you make the decision all at once.  You carefully reach over for the spice with your far hand, feeling your breasts shift towards him slightly with the slow movement.  Cassian doesn’t even feel like he’s breathing as you gently take it from him.  He just stares down at your naked chest and swallows thickly, eyelids dipping slightly as he moves to meet you halfway.

You let your nipple brush up against his knuckles just slightly with the exchange.

When you face back towards the ceiling again and readjust your shoulders flat on the bed, he lets out a slow, shaky breath under your head as it rests on his tummy.  The tension rockets up to eleven, weighing heavy and unspoken and ready to snap.  

But then like that, the moment passes—it’s just another invisible spark igniting between the two of you, just another thing buried beneath the silence and yet ringing so unbelievably loud because of it.  You’re both emitting and absorbing the same buzzing energy, amplifying it back to one another in a slow, endless feedback loop of rising pressure.

The spice comes up to your lips, and Cassian’s fingertips carefully trail along your other arm as it rests by your side.

“This is better, no?”  He asks you quietly, the rough tips of his fingers just barely gliding across your skin in small, mindless patterns.  They dance down your skin like feathers, tracing a small arch over the ridge of your elbow so lightly you almost feel like you might be imagining it.  Your eyes flutter when he gradually skims down the length of your forearm and brushes his thumb in a smooth circle around the bone in your wrist.  “Or you are still too warm?”

You bite your bottom lip when one of his fingers carefully stretches all the way up to your hip, running along the hem of your sweatpants.  

“Yeah, m’still a little—” you gasp, trying not to stutter when Cassian starts to draw up the length of your waistline, pausing right when his fingers reach your drawstrings.  “Little w-warm,” you finish hoarsely, painfully aware of how fucking wet you are, how your nipples are peaked and glistening with sweat as they move with your soft, shallow breathing.

He slowly dips one finger below the elastic wrapping across your hips, dragging it back and forth under the damp waistband.

“This fabric is heavy,” Cassian remarks, just the slightest husk in his voice.  “You… you will take this off, too?”

“I-I don’t—”  You’re about to say have anything on underneath except you immediately go quiet, because he’s suddenly slithering his entire hand down into your sweatpants and brushing his knuckles along the gentle slope of you.

He pauses once more when his longest finger reaches the very top of your slit.

But then he just holds it there for a second, tracing small arches back and forth along gentle give of it, the slight dip that separates your soft curls from your soaking heat.  You tighten up and wait in breathless anticipation for it, before the tip of Cassian’s finger finally comes to a rest over the soft split of flesh.

And then he’s suddenly pushing in, and down—

—fuckfuckfuckfuck—don’tcumdon’tcum—don’t—

You make a soft, vulnerable sound in bliss as he slowly slides his finger through the hot, slick cleft of your pussy.

“You are warm down here, too,” Cassian murmurs quietly.  Your eyes roll back when he drags the entire length of it up against your clit, letting you feel each individual ridge and joint and crevice across the swollen bit of flesh.  “Is it the spice?”  He asks, sinking his finger back down into you once more.  “Or are you always this wet between your legs?”

Neither.  Both, maybe?  Mostly it’s just him.  Cassian, whispering softly to you through the hazy darkness, lazily dipping his fingers into your cunt and letting it drench and engulf his skin in its heat.

“Tell me,” he prompts when you don’t say a word.  His finger pulls up and begins tracing slow, gentle circles around your clit.

“No,” you breathe haggardly, arching your hips up just slightly as he touches you.  “N-No, this is…”

“This is different,” Cassian confirms when you don’t finish your sentence.  He keeps circling your clit, and it’s like he’s just casually, carelessly stirring a pot that’s about to boil over and set everything on fucking fire.  You pulse threateningly under the tip of his finger, swollen and tight and just trying your best to control your breathing.  “So it is the spice.  Why you are this hot, this… this soaking.”

“It’s…”  Don’t you say it.  Don’t you fucking say it.  Don’t you turn this into something it isn’t.  “Yeah.  It’s—it’s the sp-spice.”

His finger follows the hard curve of you down to where you give, where you’re leaking wetness and heat from the source, before he’s suddenly shifting his wrist and pushing the entire thing into you down to his knuckle.

Now you do arch your hips, spreading your legs and helping him go deeper even as Cassian hums, stretching his finger and feeling you clench hot and tight around him.  He says something softly, something in a language you don’t understand.

And then he’s pulling out and rubbing circles around your clit again, the tip of his finger steady and firm as he steadily drags the pleasure out of you.

“We need to finish it soon,” he eventually reminds you, and it takes a remarkable delay for you to realize he’s talking about the lingering quarter of the joint still clenched tightly between your fingers.  “Take your hit.  We have a nine-hundred call, remember.”

Fuck, you bring the spice up to your lips with a shaky hand, trying to remember whether you should inhale or exhale first.  Cassian’s finger just keeps circling your clit, winding you up tighter and tighter.  His motions are so repetitive and predictable, but they’re somehow still lighting you on fire from the inside, slowing you down spectacularly as you try to take a steady breath in through the filter.

“Stars, you are so wet,” he remarks after a moment.  “Are you going to cum soon?  You feel like you are so close already.”

You are close.  Everything is swollen and slippery and tight, and hearing him say it out loud like that makes the pleasure rocket up even tighter inside you.  You don’t even feel him reach around with his other hand and take the spice from you.  You just lose yourself in the mindless sensation of Cassian’s finger on your clit, rolling your eyes back and reaching your hands down to fisting the sheets at your sides as he touches you.

“Does this feel good, caraya?”  He whispers quietly to you, inhaling deeply from the spice.  “You are usually so… mouthy with me.  Is this helping?  Do I need to rub your clit like this more often?”

“Fuck—Cassian, I’m gonna cum,” you tell the ceiling raggedly, chest beginning to arch up and hips bearing down.

“Do it,” he murmurs, reaching his thumb through your slick lips to pinch and roll the pulsing bud between his fingers.  “Right here.  All you can.”

And then wild, painful bliss stabs through you, launching you headfirst into a blinding orgasm.  A desperate sound tears from your throat as you cum hard all over your best friend’s hand, agonizing pleasure shredding mindless rapture through your veins.  It rings white noise through your ears and rips you apart from the inside out, arcing lightning down your spine more bright and explosive than ever before.  Fuck, it’s unprecedentedly powerful.  You’re drenched but your clit is hard and pulsing and swollen, and he’s able to keep it between his fingers the entire time your hips writhe desperately on the mattress.

Cassian inhales from the spice once more and massages your clit through the torturous, blazing hot aftershocks.  He drags the pleasure out of you until you’re a trembling mess, exhausted from the spasms wreaking havoc on your body.

But then… but then you’re still so hot.  It’s like your limbs have no energy left but your cunt is still pulsing and wanting more from him.  You feel your wetness coating his hand, your inner thighs, probably soaking through your sweatpants, but fuck, you want him to keep touching you like this—you want him to keep doing this.

It’s the spice, something tells you in the very back of your mind.  It almost made you black out with a wild orgasm and now it’s quickly preparing your overheated body for another one.  Your feet come up to brace against the mattress and your eyes close, jaw going slack as you grind feverishly against Cassian’s hand.

“Again?”  He whispers to you, fingers continuing to pinch and roll your clit and then—and then another debilitating wave of euphoria is suddenly slamming through you, pulling your chest up and flooding his hand with another series of wet, powerful contractions.  Cassian rasps something in his native tongue and rides you through the second one just as steady as the first, your pussy spasming uncontrollably as he slowly wrings the pleasure from you.

Fuck, it feels so good.  You’re worked up and trembling and trying not to whimper for him, desperately wanting him to keep his hand right here forever, buried right between your legs like this.  But you also—you also want Cassian to feel it too, feel the way the unrestrained hedonism practically burns you alive when you cum.

So you carefully turn over on your side and shuffle forwards a bit, resting your head on his lower stomach, right in front of the mouthwatering bulge in his trousers.  His fingers can’t fully reach your cunt from this angle, but Cassian is resilient.  He just drags his hand over your hip and slithers his fingers into your pussy from behind while you start unbuckling his pants with shaky fingers.

He’s unbelievably hard and throbbing and leaking when you pull his cock out of his underwear, the pulsing urgency of his erection not lining up with the way he’s still relaxing on your mattress, still hasn’t moved under you.  So you just hold his length up to your lips and open them, slowly sliding your tongue around the tip of him three times before taking his curved head into the hot cavern of your mouth.

Cassian takes a deep, shaky breath as you suck softly on the head of his cock, fluttering your tongue along a bead of precum he leaks from the slit.  He drags his fingers through your drenched pussy lips from behind as you carefully move your head down his tummy, opening your jaw wider and letting him fill your mouth deeper.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and you hum softly and lift your back palate slightly, sliding your tongue drift down his shaft and taking him a bit deeper still.  He shudders under you and pushes the tip of his finger up against your clit.

And then you shudder because Cassian completely bypasses your hood at this angle, bumping into the swollen bit of flesh without any resistance or protection and just… holding it there.  Barely moving an inch while you begin to slowly bob up and down just slightly around his cock, just keeping his fingertip right up against your clit and sparking heat down through your legs.

You move your hand down to cup his balls and start to roll your hips against his fingers.  Cassian’s breathing stutters as you lazily suck his cock, rubbing a tight little circle on your clit in silent encouragement.

“We should—” his voice is hoarse now, now that you’ve got his dick in your mouth and you’re gently swirling your tongue around it, almost as unhurried and casual about the act as he was bringing you to your first orgasm.  “We should do this.  More.”

You slowly pull off him, kissing the tip of his cock and mouthing at the way he’s steadily releasing thick drops of precum for you.  Cassian’s finger rolls firmly against your clit in response.

“You just want your dick sucked every time you come back to base,” you counter breathlessly, brushing your lips against him while talking with his cockhead resting on the edge of your tongue.

His hand shifts, and then he’s suddenly pushing two thick fingers deep inside you.  You moan around his tip and prop one leg up on the mattress so he can fill you easier, going back to sucking and swiping your tongue over his frenulum.

“I would not mind it,” he admits with a shaky exhale.  “You are.  Very g-good.  Fuck.  And wa—” he gasps, feeling you clench tight around his fingers, “—warm.  Fuck, every… everywhere.”

Fuck, it feels so good like this.  Laying here, topless and being penetrated two different ways by Cassian, feeling him throb in your mouth while you rest your head on his tummy, feeling him stretch your cunt walls with his fingers while you hold your legs open for him.

You pull off him to drag your slick tongue over your palm, coating your fingers in saliva.  Cassian groans when you wrap your hand around the thick base of him, and then he lifts his hips slightly as you start to slowly jerk him off into you mouth.

“Fuck—caraya, if you keep doing that, I will—” he whispers after a moment, curling his fingers inside you in warning.  You just tighten your grip and add just the slightest twist to your wrist and “Wait—wait—” Cassian grunts, starting to pull his fingers out of you—

You pull off him just enough to murmur the words against his throbbing head.  “You’ll want more than one, okay.  Trust me.  Cum like this, okay?  Cum just like this, right in my mouth.”

You wrap your lips around his cock once more and keep jerking him off slow and tight into the heat of your mouth, and Cassian’s abdominal muscles go incredibly tense under your head.  And then you squeeeeze your lower muscles around his fingers, and all the tension suddenly snaps.

His cock goes rock hard on your tongue and starts pulsing steadily as he groans out your name like it hurts, fingers stuffed deep in your cunt.  You swallow around him and moan, clenching rhymically around his fingers and letting him slowly empty himself into your mouth.  Fuck, he takes forever with it, shuddering and gasping and pumping cum down your throat, his orgasm clearly as powerful as yours was.  The spice drags it out, makes you both lose yourself in the raw heaven of release for far longer than normal.

The spice also prevents him from softening when Cassian finally stops spurting hot cum in your mouth.  You suspected as much—which is why you keep sucking his cock even as he stops throbbing, you keep him in your hot mouth even when he’s laying trembling and exhausted under you.  And he still stays rock solid on your tongue, swollen and needing more.

Cassian’s voice sounds shredded when he finally speaks.  “I—I am going to crash my x-wing tomorrow,” he tells you hoarsely, fingers finally slipping out of your channel with a vulgar, slick sound.  “You were right.”

You pull off him and kiss the tip of his cock one final time, making sure you’ve cleaned up the mess completely.  “Today.”

“Fuck.  Today,” he acknowledges tightly, adjusting his hips when you lift your head off his stomach.  “Fuck.  In a few hours.  You will make me crash, just thinking about this.”

“Why is it,” you turn around and blink at him, “that after literal decades of my friendship, you only acknowledge my perpetual rightness after I make you cum for the first time?”

Cassian just smiles softly at you, and his fingers are drenched as they rest lazily against your thigh.  “Caraya.  Two suns.  Twice the illumination, no?”

You bite your lip and try not to smile back at him, wanting to blush and roll your eyes in equal parts.  Stars, why is he so… so lovely?  Speaking to you so sweetly, looking back up at you from your pillow like you’re every single color in his sky.  Your heart seizes in your chest, staring at him with the same kind of fondness and admiration his beautiful eyes are shining with.  Fuck, you want… you want to…

“Can we… can we have sex now?”  You whisper.  Not really shy, but… but it almost sounds shy in its quiet, breathless hope.  

“You do not want me to taste you?”  Cassian immediately asks, reaching out with one hand to offer you what’s left of the spice while the other stays firmly wedged between your legs.  “I want to.  I have…”

You bite down on your bottom lip and take the nearly finished joint from him, feeling his fingers curl against your pussy lips at the same time and knowing you’re going to regret letting him finish his sentence.  He swallows thickly.

“I have thought about it,” Cassian eventually tells you, carefully admitting the words like he never expected he’d ever say them aloud and is completely unprepared.  “Sometimes.  Sometimes when… when I am about to sleep.  I think of… of you.  What you taste like.  Right here.”  He barely slips the tip of his finger back between your folds, fluttering his eyelashes at the way you’re still dripping in his hand.  “I bet you are so sweet.  Will you let me find out?”

Except.  Except you’re suddenly blanking.

He’s… he’s thought about you before?  Like this?  Fuck, he isn’t just… just saying that, right?  Just telling you what you want to hear?  Because fuck, it’s almost too good to be true; like everything out of his mouth since you first put his cock in yours has somehow sounded even better than the last.  You feel like you’re dreaming, and it.  It makes you almost frantic with need, overcome with the desire to solidify your connection with him before it can be ripped away like it always is.

You don’t respond to him.  You just quickly wiggle out of your sweatpants and get on top of him, swinging one of your legs around Cassian’s hips.  The spice is held in one hand while the other reaches down and aligns his cock right up against your opening.

Cassian grabs your thighs tightly and takes a long, shuddery breath under you.  Fuck, he really is a dream, isn’t he?  Long and lithe and beautiful, still throbbing and pulsing and ready for you after you already swallowed his first load.  You straighten your back and slowly sit down on his cock, letting the thick, hard length of it break you open slowly.

His hands trace up to your hips and then slide along the gentle curves of your sides, measuring the size of your ribcage before eventually grasping both of your tits in his palms.  You breathe through the pleasure and the stretch, letting Cassian pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers as you gradually slide down him and come to a rest flush against his pelvis.

Fuck he feels spectacular.  You can feel him pulsing inside of you, fitting and stretching the contours of your slick cunt perfectly.  You shiver and clench around him, finishing off the last hit of spice as you roll your hips slightly to adjust to the tight fit of his cock.

You twist your shoulders to carefully toss the smoldering roach into the sink when it’s done, really taking your time with aiming it to make sure you don’t miss.  The second it lands in the metal basin is the second Cassian grinds his hips up into yours while giving both of your nipples a gentle tug, and a jolt of pleasure rocks its way down your spine.

“Im-impatient,” you whisper, trying to scold him but it comes out sounding all wrong, far more needy and breathy than you wanted.

“I wanted my tongue in your pussy,” he whispers back in reminder, squeezing your tits as you start to circle and grind against him, letting you both enjoy the sensation of each other without any solid aim at the moment.  “You could not wait.”

“Later,” you gasp, tipping your head back and just—fuck, just enjoying his cock.  Enjoying how it feels, pressing up deliciously tight against something inside you that just absolutely loves the pressure.  You scoot yourself back just a bit, just so he is really shoved up hard against that spot as you grind and roll your body.  It ignites sparks deep in your floor muscles, makes you clamp tighter around him as you slowly ride your best friend’s cock.

And stars, Cassian just watches you.  He drags his hands over your naked body as it swells and rocks back over his hips like waves in the ocean.  He’s still completely clothed, and while something inside you wants you to get him as naked as your are, rub your exposed skin against his and make sure he never forgets how you feel against him, most of you is just fucking burning at the eroticism of being so bare and tall above him while he looks at you.

“Later,” he eventually repeats after you, definitively confirming what you said.  Cassian’s voice is somehow soft and rough at the same time, quiet but tight and hoarse in his throat.  “I will taste you later.”

You jerk a nod in agreement, starting to gain just a little bit of a rhythm on top of him.  Your eyes flutter closed as you lean your weight back slightly and begin to pull up when your hips twist in towards him, and then sinking back down on his cock when your hips circle back around again.

“Fuck,” you hear Cassian grit as you keep doing that, relaxing your lower muscles as he’s thrusted into you and then clamping down on his length as it’s slowly dragged out.  “Fuck, you are—a-amazing, caraya.  You are.  You are—fuck—”

A sinful heat starts simmering deep inside you as Cassian cuts himself off with a gasp and squeezes his eyes shut, starts rocking his pelvis up in time with your slow, sensual rotations.  Both of his hands clamp down hard over your hips as they continue to undulate in slow circles around his cock.

“Maker,” you whisper, trying to focus on your rhythm instead of the terrifying, building sensation inside of you.  Fuck, you can literally feel the threat of your orgasm start to carefully wind itself around the base of your spine, simmering and sparking with dark pleasure as it gradually spreads its electric claws outwards.  It’s huge.  You can already feel it gathering together inside you, culminating into something monstrous and fierce.

Cassian says your name, and you suddenly blink your eyes open at the unexpected urgency and tightness in his voice.  Your vision takes a second to focus on his gorgeous face, and when you immediately see the same exact storm of swirling desperation in his eyes, your jaw goes slack as you speed up, trying to chase him as Cassian all but hurtles towards the blinding explosion nearing its detonation.

“Fuck, I—” he gasps, and then he’s suddenly going rigid under you and cumming deep in your slick heat with a desperate sound, shuddering and gasping for you as his thumbs dig into your thighs.  Fuck, you grind harder, trying to find and focus on your favorite angle now as Cassian whimpers through the bliss and writhes under you, throbbing and pumping in steady, helpless jolts.

You whimper, too—fuck, you’re almost there, you’re gasping and trying to surrender to the swelling sensation, but it’s so intense and overwhelming and you’re close to tears because you’re fighting it just as much as you’re seeking it out, and—

And then the breath is suddenly knocked out of you when Cassian reaches up to grab you and flip the both of you over, your back coming down hard against the mattress.  He kneels between your legs, hooks both of your calves over his shoulders, props his arms next to your head, and then he starts thrusting.

You sob brokenly, slapping an open palm against his chest.  Fuck, his cock is still so hard and it shreds up achingly deep against that blinding spot so perfectly, you can’t focus on anything anymore.  The dark, evasive build immediately twists up sharp and impending as Cassian fucks you steady and deep, and you start to muffle your cries and gasps into the back of your hand.

But then, oh—words are coming, too.  Oh Maker, you can feel the urge to say them rise up along with the ferocious stirrings of your orgasm, clawing its way out of your throat before you can do anything to stop it.

“Fuck—” you tear your hand away to sob brokenly, not being able to stop yourself as the tsunami begins to peak, “oh, fuck—I love you.  Oh, fuck, I—I love you, Cassian—I love you, I—IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou—”

His cock splinters up against sheer euphoria inside you as you cum with a desperate wail of his name, pussy clamping down hard as it erupts into searing hot ecstasy around him.

—and then suddenly Cassian is lurching against you and bringing his lips down to yours, licking into your mouth and cumming deep inside you once more.  Maker, you nearly scream at the sensation, your tight cunt milking the throbbing length of him with endlessly wet, hot contractions as he grinds you both through the aching bliss.  He kisses you like he’s wanted to do it for years, bites your bottom lip as you whimper and spasm wildly around him.

Fuck, you can hear the mess you’re both making.  It’s obscene, filling the room with the slick sound of your desperate coupling.  Cassian eventually pulls his mouth away to look down at where he’s rocking into your drenched cunt, the evidence of his own pleasure slicking up hard lines of his erection.

Your eyes roll back when he doesn’t stop thrusting.

***

You lose track of everything.

Time, direction, responsibility—nothing matters, because Cassian goes on like that.  For hours, taking you apart every single way you can imagine.  You fuck the effects of the spice out of your body until nothing exists but him—Cassian’s cock stretching you, his tongue gliding along your skin, his whispered words of broken praise murmured against your neck.

Strangely, your body feels absolutely amazing when you finally manage to gain the slightest bit of awareness of your obligations again.  You feel like you’re floating above everything, almost dreamlike in how unbelievably satisfied you feel.  

You slowly blink up at the ceiling, and then suddenly remember the nine-hundred call you have to make.  You’re both naked, sprawled out on top of your mattress, and Cassian—

“Cass—” you rasp, pulling on the thick waves of hair tangled between your fingers and feeling his hot tongue slip out of your pussy.  It’s still slightly dark in your room, but that could just be the horrendous weather blocking the sun.  “What—what time is it?  Did we miss—?”

“Almost eight,” Cassian rumbles low against your thigh.  “We still have some time before we need to get up.”

You lurch into startled awareness, getting go of him to prop yourself you on your elbows.  “But that’s—no, we have to shower, and—”

“A ten minute walk to the hangar from here, yes?”  Cassian reasons, pressing a lazy kiss to your thigh and not sounding bothered in the slightest.  “Twenty minutes to shower together, ten minutes to get dressed.  We have at least ten more minutes before we need to think about getting up.”

You shudder and blink down at him, naked and relaxed as he mouths over your skin.  Maker, how can everything change and yet still be so familiar at the same time?

“I think I might crash my x-wing today,” you finally breathe out, dropping your shoulders back down to the mattress once again.

“No,” he returns, turning his head to kiss your other thigh.  “You will not.  Because I checked my holopad earlier, and they sent the coordinates for red squadron’s patrols.”

You narrow your eyebrows at the ceiling.  What does that have to do with anyth—?

And then you suddenly go shock-still under him, trying not to let the blind, overwhelming hope surge up inside you.

“Bring extra credits, caraya,” Cassian murmurs, lowering his head back down between your legs.  “We are going to Lothal.”

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

Will They Won’t They | Part 2/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairing: Reggie Peters x fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Summary: Reggie and reader were the best of friends up until middle school where they drifted apart and decided never to speak to each other again. What happens when a shared algebra class and a resulting detention force them to spend and increasing amount of time together. Will it be enough to overcome the mutual hate? Or was the relationship doomed from the start.

WARNINGS: swears & ANGST

A/N: hey babes it’s drea posting :) i hope you enjoy this part as much as mimi and i did writing it! again, if you enjoy our writing, please like, comment, and reblog! and if you want to be updated, dm us to join our taglist! sending my love - drea :) 

“Come on, let me take you out! We need to get you a new outfit for the gig coming up,” Rose insisted, dragging you to her car. 

“Who said I was coming?” you frowned stubbornly, tugging your arms back but to no avail. 

“I did, now let's go,” she strongly urged, pushing you into the backseat while she hopped in the passenger side and Luke hopped in the driver’s seat. 

“Rose, he’s coming too! Oh, hell no!” you refused, giving the boy a pointed look. 

“Sorry (N/N), I can’t drive this car, it doesn’t have learner’s insurance,” Rose apologized. 

“Nice to see you Lady Bunny,” Luke grinned with a wink and you sighed. 

“Okay, let’s just get this over with, okay?” you prompted and Luke nodded turning the keys in the ignition. 

“Whatever you say bunny, you’re the boss.” 

“Would you stop calling me that Patterson, it’s worse than when Reggie calls me Cookie,” you grumbled, your nose scrunching up in disgust. 

“Oh lighten up, at least you’ve got some cute nicknames,” Rose chuckled and reached a hand back to hold yours. “We’re gonna have a blast (N/N), just trust me.”

Walking past countless amounts of stores, it seemed as though Rose’s plan to find you something nice to wear was pointless. You and Rose had very different ideas of fashion, ideas that clashed far too much for Rose’s liking. 

“There’s no way I’m wearing that!” you exclaimed, eyeing the brightly colored jacket in Rose’s hand. 

“It’s so pretty though!” she insisted. “The texture, the color, the price? It’s a bargain, (N/N)!”

You rolled your eyes. “Then you buy it for yourself,” you told her, pulling out a simple knit sweater from the rack.

“You know what, I will,” Rose settled before looking at the sweater in your hand. “Oh you can’t wear that! You’ll look like a grandma who got lost at a rock concert!”

You frowned at your friend, holding the sweater to your chest. “I always wear things like this,” you pointed out, slightly hurt.

Rose tugged the sweater out of your hand and shoved it back into the rack. Luke popped his head up from the other side of the rack. “Yeah, but at a rock gig, you can’t go as your typical self. A poor little bunny like you would never survive a place like that,” he explained with a pout. 

“Lord, have mercy,” you grabbed your necklace pendant and kissed it, frowning when you realized you weren’t wearing your normal silver cross. 

“Is that like some white person good luck thing you picked up?” she asked suspiciously and you chuckled. 

“No, I just thought I was wearing a different necklace. I don't know how I could have mistaken it.” 

“What is it?” Rose inquired further, taking the pendant from your hands and looking at the details. “A horseshoe? I didn’t take you for a horse girl.” 

“Yeah- no, I’m not… Reggie gave it to me in middle school, he won it at a county fair or something, I can’t remember,” you explained. 

“Reggie gave it to you?” Luke inquired. 

“Thought I said that already Patterson,” you shot back with a roll of your eyes. 

Luke fought the urge to say something sarcastic back to you. “No, I’m just- Reggie?” he repeated. “I thought he...hates you, and vice versa.”

You walked down the aisle, skimming through the various articles of clothing. “And you’d be correct,” you told him. 

“It was before you moved here,” Rose explained. “She and Reggie used to be best friends up until middle school,” 

“Yep, but that’s in the past and we’re in the present so let’s focus on that,” you rushed, already feeling uncomfortable about the topic.

“No let's not,” Luke rested his forearms on the rack in front of you, resting his chin on top of them. “Tell us more,” he pleaded, pouting like a child.

You glared at the boy, tossing a sequined shirt at his face, making him stagger back. “And why should I, it’s none of your business, no offense Rose, and I’ll probably tell you at some point anyway,” 

“None taken cariña,” she chuckled and continued looking for some clothing that would be appropriate for the gig. 

Luke sighed, following close behind you. “But why can’t you tell me now?” he whined like a child. “I adopted you-”

“Against my will,” you cut in, flicking his forehead.

“Details,” he insisted. “I’m just saying, shouldn’t we be close now? Don’t you trust me?” 

You took a deep breath. “Of course I do, Luke,” you reassured him, your patience thinning. 

“Then why not tell me?” he pressed.

“Because it hurts!” you finally broke. 

The two friends seemed to freeze at your sudden exclamation. The quiet small girl was cracking and revealing the broken china doll inside. 

“It hurts, okay?” you repeated. “And having to tell the story of how I lost my best friend for some stupid reason that I don’t even know...it hurts beyond belief. The worst part is that he probably doesn’t even care. I loved him, okay? I loved him because he was my best friend. Even when I had no one I had Reggie and I used to think that nothing in the world could ever tear us apart.” you admitted. “When we stopped talking, he took a piece of me with him. And I know that I am never going to get that back.” 

Luke quietly moved over and past the racks of clothing pulling you into his chest and giving you a tight squeeze. 

“Bunny I’m so sorry. I had no idea,”

You let out a humorless laugh. “No one knew,” you told him. “It’s not your fault, Luke, you were just curious.” 

“Still,” Luke said. “I feel so bad. Maybe I could try and talk to him and-”

You shook your head repeatedly. “Maybe let’s not,” you countered. “It’s in the past now. There’s nothing I can really do about it and the last thing I want to do is rope my friends into this, too.” 

“Well then how about this,” Rose suggested, giving you a prompt to change the topic while holding up a long sleeved white turtleneck along with an oversized black shirt sporting the album art of a famous rock band.

“I actually think I might be able to tolerate that,” you let out a soft chuckle. 

“I’m hoping you have some ripped jeans at home, maybe some converse?”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m not entirely hopeless,” you assured them and Rose laughed while Luke just pulled you in tighter for a brotherly hug. 

“Look at you being mature! We love you, bunny,” he told you, swaying as he held you tight in his arms. 

“Love you, too, I guess, Patterson,” you laughed. “Let me go, you’re crushing me!”

The second Luke pulled away, he leaned back in to ruffle your hair. “Now come on, Bunny, the gig starts in three hours. You all down for lunch?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you nodded. “Why not?” you replied. 

Rose wrapped an arm around the both of you. “Anything but hotdogs,” she giggled. 

“Agreed!” you quickly vetoed any other option and ran giggling with Rose to grab lunch leaving Luke to pay for the clothes. You were lucky he adopted you otherwise that would be a tricky one to get out of. 

—

“I feel like this is an illegal number of questions to have on a test, it’s literally taking so long to mark these,” you grumbled to yourself, scribbling notes with red ink on the margins of the freshman biology test. 

You had lost count of how many detentions had passed and lost track of how many were still to come, at this rate they could go on until the end of the year and in all honesty you probably wouldn’t notice. 

You looked over at Reggie who was marking some short answer questions on a test, seeing his bright red check mark where there clearly shouldn’t have been one. 

“That’s wrong”, you said, looking back down at your paper. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That. You marked it right, it’s wrong,” 

“Why?” he asked curiously, putting his pen down so he could listen to you. 

“Because,” you sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “the mitochondria is not the party house of the cell,” 

“Well I say the mitochondria can do whatever it wants,” Reggie proclaimed, adding another check mark to the test. “Because it’s the boss,” 

“No that’s the nucleus,” 

“The what?” he formed and you banged your head on the desk in front of you, 

“How in the world did you pass freshman science,”

“Like the rest of us, I cheated,” he countered and you looked at him with a shocked expression on your face. “Oh my God, lighten up Cookie, I was kidding, it’s been four years and I’ve barely taken any science classes since I just forgot,” he rolled his eyes. 

You moved your head back to your work, only to toss the pen down in frustration moments later to try and massage a hand cramp. 

“Stupid pen, stupid tests, stupid detention,” you grumbled under your breath, honestly feeling like you wanted to cry. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sat back in your seat, debating whether you should fake an emergency so you could just go home. 

Reggie silently reached over to your pile of tests and eyeballed splitting it in half, taking the unmarked tests and placing them in his own pile. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said flatly. 

“Sooner we finish the sooner we can go home and it didn’t seem like you were going to go any faster,” 

You stayed silent for a moment, carefully reaching for your own again before whispering, “Thanks,” to which Reggie only gave you a nod. 

The silence between you both was excruciating. It shouldn’t have been this way, it should have been easy to talk to him like it always used to be. 

So, you took a deep breath and unclenches your jaw, casually continuing to write while asking, 

“So how’s the band?” 

There was a short silence, probably due to his slight shock in you even asking or trying to have a civil conversation and his first instinct as usual was to block it. 

“Why do you care?”

You rolled your eyes and continued to do your work, at least you tried that was all you could do. The ball was in his court. 

When he looked up and saw your tired expression he realized there really didn’t seem to be an ulterior motive at this point so with an audible sigh he answered, 

“It’s great, we’re working on writing songs for our demo CD,” 

You nodded and checked off some multiple choice questions before you heard Reggie clear his throat and spoke again, 

“How about you? How’s the family?” 

“They’re alright,” you said, your lips pressed in a thin line. “I mean as good as they can be. Things haven’t changed much.” 

Reggie nodded in understanding, aware of your family’s financial situation. 

“Is that why you push yourself?” he asked again. You froze, your hand holding the grading pen not moving. “Hours in the library, studying until your brain practically explodes with information.” You raised an eyebrow curiously at him, making him blush sheepishly. “I just know from uh, Mr. Mallard. He likes to talk, you and I both know that.” With a small smile on your face, you nodded. 

“I guess you’re right,” you finally answered. “If I get a scholarship maybe I can at least make my way through a degree without plummeting further into debt.” You kicked aimlessly at the floor. “I just feel so guilty. Like...if I don’t do the right thing or make one stupid mistake I’ll disappoint my parents.” 

Reggie frowned, setting the testing papers down. “You know you’d never disappoint your parents, Cookie” he told you. Chills went down your spine upon realizing he didn’t have the usual malice and sarcasm behind his name for you. “They would never be upset with you.” 

You laugh humorlessly. “Right again, Flicka,” you sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the better term would be I would be disappointed in myself? I don’t want to fail them or anything by slacking off. They’ve already done so much for me.” 

“But that shouldn’t stop you from just-” Reggie drummed his pen against his thigh as he thought of the right words to use. “living? Cookie, we’re still kids. The point of high school is to just let loose and have fun, not drown yourself in schoolwork and scholarship essays.” 

You playfully flicked a paper clip in his direction. “I bet you’d know all about letting loose, wouldn’t you?” you teased. 

Reggie grasped his chest, gasping in feign hurt. “You wound me, Cookie,” he dramatically exclaimed, making you giggle and roll your eyes. 

As the two of you continued your light banter, you were reminded of the days you and Reggie would spend at the park, competing to see who could swing the highest between the two of you. The weight on your back lifted slightly as you started to sense a bit of normalcy, no longer at each other’s throats for any reason you could find. It felt good to talk like this with Reggie, to “let loose” as he said and finally set down all the baggage you’ve been carrying since you two stopped being best friends. Everything in that moment felt right. Stress, detention, and ungraded biology tests long forgotten. 

After what seemed like hours passed, Mr. Siezlio came back to the classroom, announcing that you were done for the day. You and Reggie surprisingly continued your conversation outside of the classroom, Reggie sharing more stories of the band as you giggled with every shenanigan. However, the moment you stepped foot outside, Reggie’s composure changed. 

“Alex!” you exclaimed, running over to the boy. Alex had his arms outstretched, pulling you into a friendly hug that Reggie considered far too chummy. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend, watching and making sure his hands were where he could see them. 

Reggie walked over to the two, a scowl forming on his face. “Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, bitterness visibly clear in his tone. 

The blond drummer raised an eyebrow in confusion at Reggie’s attitude, but decided not to address it. “(Y/N) and I have an AP chemistry project coming up so she’s going to sleep over at my place so we can work on it.” 

You grinned up at Alex. “We’re probably going to have to pull an all-nighter to get it all done tonight,” you told him, making him groan. 

Reggie’s lips fell to a thin line. “Good luck trying to do that,” he muttered. “Alex falls asleep before eleven o’clock. I’d pay to see him stay up past that.” 

Alex rolled his eyes playfully. “When my grade is on the line, I think I can manage,” he said. “Especially after that one experiment in class you left me to do, I think we both definitely need that A.” 

“Yeah, Alex can’t do titrations for shit,” 

“I tried my best,” Alex fought back. 

“And what did that get us?” you pressed. 

Alex’s head hung low. “Erm, a B,” he muttered. 

Reggie stared at the two in disbelief. He couldn’t comprehend this ‘nerd talk.’ “A B?!” he exclaimed. “You were disappointed with a B? I would have been happy with C-,” he shook his head and pulled his bag up higher on his shoulder, preparing himself to part ways. 

You shuddered at the thought of such a low grade. “I’d never even begin to imagine a C,” you said aloud. 

Reggie smirked at you. “Well, you are a nerd, Cookie,” he teased, making you shove him. 

“Ass,” you shot back. 

“(N/N), we gotta go if we don’t wanna stay up all night,” Alex said anxiously. 

You nodded, taking Alex’s hand in yours and squeezing it. Reggie glared down at your intertwined hands, anger bubbling rapidly in his chest. 

“Bye, Flicka,” you cheerfully waved goodbye. 

Reggie didn’t look you in the eye, only staring down at the sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pocket. “Whatever, Cookie.” 

—

Band practice the next afternoon -to say the least- was probably the shittiest the band had ever played. Luke and Bobby were incredibly confused why Alex continuously dropped his drumsticks and refused to make eye contact with anyone and why Reggie looked so angry that he could snap the strings of his bass. 

“Okay, guys, guys! Come on we have a gig in like a week! We can’t go out there playing like this!” Luke insisted and Bobby nodded in agreement. “Alex I haven’t seen you fumble this much since we tried to play football and Reggie you currently have negative three hundred and forty-five dollars and seventy-three cents in your bank account so I would recommend loosening up on the strings because none of us can afford more.” 

“Yeah, what the hell is going on with you two?” Bobby added and Reggie sent a cold glare towards Alex that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. 

“What was that?” Luke asked, pointing in between the two boys. 

“What was what?” Reggie asked, his head snapping back to send the same glare to Luke. 

“Okay you two clearly have things you need to settle so get it out there,” Bobby nodded, motioning to the floor, metaphorically saying it was open for one of them to take. 

Alex took a deep breath and nervously started, “Well I think it’s pretty clear Reggie is mad at me it’s just I have no idea as to why,” he shrugged his shoulders. “D-Did I eat your sandwich or something? A meatball sub maybe?” 

“That’s not it, but did you? Because if you did you are dead to me,” Reggie said venomously. 

“No! No, I didn’t,” he insisted quickly, very much so wanting to stay alive and not murdered at the hands of his best friend. “But what the hell is making you mad Reggie, I’ve never seen you like this,” 

Luke and Bobby seemed to nod carefully in agreement and Reggie swung his bass around the strap so it was hanging from his back. 

“You need to stay away from (Y/N),” Reggie said in a cautionary tone, pointing directly at Alex. 

“Lady bunny?” Luke asked curiously with furrowed brows and Reggie just looked at him back with confusion before remembering the nickname. 

“Yeah, I guess, but seriously Alex, you shouldn’t be with her,” 

“What do you mean I shouldn’t be with her. (Y/N) and I are just friends! We’ve been lab partners since freshman year,” Alex insisted. “And in case you forgot I’m kind of really gay?” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be spending time with her!” Reggie exclaimed furiously. Was he mad that you were spending time with his friends or that you seemed to be getting just as close with them as he once was with you. Right now, that was all a muddled mess in Reggie’s mind and heart so naturally, he started spewing out words that probably didn’t even have meaning at that point. 

Bobby discreetly made his way to Luke. “Hey Luke,” he whispered. “I can go ask Rose to make some popcorn,” he shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, for sure, and tell her to come in, she’ll wanna see this,” Luke added, equally invested, as their two other bandmates seemed to really be going at it.

“Reggie, you need to calm down. (Y/N)’s my friend, too. I don’t know any of your past, but you can’t tell me I should just drop her completely,” Alex said in a level toned voice. 

“Oh don’t act like you know (Y/N) better than I do,” Reggie snapped. “I know her like the back of my hand, and I know she’s bad news.”

“Do you really even know her?” Alex pressed. 

“Of course I do! Who was there when she broke her ankle? Me. Who was there when her fish died? Me! And who was there when everyone else wasn’t?”

“Not you anymore,” Alex cut in softly. Reggie's rant stopped short. The teen stopped pacing to look his friend in the eyes. “Reggie, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you have to admit to yourself, you still care about her.”

Reggie fumed silently. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Alex pressed his lips together. “I think you do, Reggie.”

“Alex you don’t get it! (Y/N) and me, that’s over!” his anger had sent him over the top. “Stop trying to say something’s there! It’s not!” 

“Listen to yourself Reggie, just listen to yourself talk! If you heard what I’m hearing I think you’d have a different opinion,” 

“Just-Just!...” Reggie pursed his lips and grabbed the neck of his bass pulling it back in front of him. “Can we just take it from the top,” 

“Y’know Reggie I think Alex has a point,” Luke butted in, remembering his previous conversation with you, realizing how much losing Reggie had actually affected you. 

“Oh joy,” Reggie sighed. 

“Just hear me out,” Luke continued, regardless of Reggie’s reluctance. “Why did you get into music in the first place?” 

“Because I loved it,” Reggie scoffed as if it was obvious. 

“No really Reg, be honest,” Bobby added. “Specifically when did you start playing music more seriously?”

Reggie bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, tasting the metallic liquid in his mouth he shrugged his shoulders and flopped onto the couch. 

“I got into it after I stopped talking to (Y/N),” he admitted. “But what’s your point?” he asked. 

“You don't confront your problems Reggie,” Alex explained. “You came to music because it helped you block out the fact that losing her tore you apart.” 

“Well if it tore me apart then why am I still here, huh? Why am I happy? Why am I even alive? If she was my everything then how the hell am I still here?!” 

“Because she’s keeping you here,” Luke whispered. Reggie turned to Luke, at a loss for words. “Because even though you two had a falling out, you know that seeing her everyday at school...you’re glad she’s okay.”

Reggie ran his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know me,” he snapped back. “You don’t know what I think, or who I-I care about. You just don’t, so you can’t stop playing “mom,” Luke.”

Luke slowly approached him. “I don’t understand you,” he said truthfully. “You never open up or tell us anything. You say we don’t know you, you won’t even tell us anything. If no one knows you, then who does-“

“(Y/N)!” Reggie finally broke. The boys froze in their spots, only staring back at their struggling friend. “(Y/N), okay? She’s the only one who listened to me, the only one who cared. And now she’s gone because I pushed her away. All because I was so stupid and my pride got in the way. It’s my fault the best thing in my life is gone.”

Reggie realized what he had said and quickly pushed himself up and away from the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he shook his head and tried to make his way out of the studio. 

“Reggie wait!” his friends called back for him, but he shook his head and pushed his way out of the door just as Rose was heading into the studio. “Reggie come on! We’re sorry!” 

Biting the inside of his cheek he cursed under his breath, knowing that they were right. He did push people away before they got too close and right now he didn’t have the strength to blame himself so he blamed you instead. 

—

Reggie stormed into the almost empty library on Saturday, having had to walk to his detention from his home by the beach which was not close to say the least. 

When he pushed on the door to come into the library with such force it startled you as you organized the books and put them back on the shelves. 

Reggie didn’t speak to you as he tossed his things to the side and grabbed a cart, going to his designated spot in the library. 

You were careful to not try and push any buttons, knowing he was in a fragile state, it was kind of obvious, but it was even harder not to address. 

“Hey Flicka?” you said gently, trying to be as compassionate as possible. 

“What,” he spat, shoving some books onto the shelf without much care. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, expecting to be met with barriers, that seemed to be all that comprised your relationship now. Walls, fences, barriers, and barricades. 

“None of your business,” he said, his breathing slightly heavier as the tears burned in the back of his eyes and the lump grew in the back of his throat. 

“I-I mean are you sure, you seem really agitated,” you noted and he didn’t respond. “Reggie you don’t have to hide anything. It can be my business if you want it to-” 

“No it can’t!” he snapped, throwing the books that were in his hands on the table. You flinched at the loud noise the impact made. “It stopped being your business the second we stopped talking to each other so just leave it Cookie,” his voice carrying the same hostility it did weeks ago. 

You paused for a moment, looking down at your pile of books before whispering, 

“They’re fighting again… aren’t they?” 

Reggie’s throat was burning, he wanted to scream into a void, empty himself of the pain because you were right, you were always right. Even when it felt like you didn’t know each other you were always there proving him wrong. 

His hands started to shake and he dropped the books he had just picked up again, turning around so you couldn’t see him. Reggie didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed or if he just didn’t want you to worry. 

You wanted to reach over to your old friend, offer him some sort of comfort because you knew Reggie’s family and you knew how hard it was on him. 

So you did the next best thing. Pulling out your MP3 player from your pocket you went over to Mr. Mallard’s speaker system and plugged it in, turning up the volume to the max, letting the soft plucking of guitar strings fill the library and the hallway surrounding you. 

You went back to your pile and turned your back to him, giving him some sort of privacy, what you thought he needed. 

Reggie wasn’t sure if there was another time in his life where he had listened to this song and related to it more. 

So when he wiped his nose on his sleeve and turned around and saw you, he realized he didn’t want to be far away from you, he didn’t want to yell at you, he didn’t want that distance. 

So he quickly pushed the chair and table with wheels out of his way before stopping right behind you, carefully reaching for your hand that was resting by your side. 

When you felt his long slim fingers wrap around your own you turned around to look him in the eyes. They were still the same beautiful shade of blue and green, but unlike the last time you really looked into those eyes, they carried so much hurt. So much hurt and sadness that should never have been there in the first place. 

But through it all they said I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m sorry for all of this. 

And you nodded, back, accepting that apology. 

So he didn’t hesitate a moment, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face in your shoulder. You nearly gasped in surprise as his grip around you tightened. It was as though he was afraid of losing you, and didn’t want to let you go. Lucky for him, you felt the same.

Slowly, your hands found their way around his neck. You could feel Reggie’s tears dampen your shirt, but you couldn’t care less. 

“It’s going to be okay, Reggie,” you whispered. 

Reggie sniffled quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t say that,” he murmured.

“Say what?” you asked.

“Say that everything’s going to be okay,” he continued in a hushed but angry voice. “Say that everything is all sunshine and rainbows when at the end of the day my parents will still fucking hate each other while yours struggle to keep their home.”

You stiffened under his touch. His words struck a nerve in you, but you pushed down the anger in you. He was hurting, and what he needed was a friend, not a fixer.

Instead, you squeezed him tight against you. “Then, don’t think,” you said. “Clear your mind and- and forget everything. Forget your parents, forget this stupid detention and the musty smell of these ancient books, forget me.”

Reggie dug his head deeper into your chest. “I don’t want to forget you, Cookie,” he murmured. “I-I don’t want you to leave me again a-and-“

You shushed him. “I’m not leaving, Flicka,” you reassured him. “I promise.”

Reggie let out another broken sob. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I-it’s just that we both don’t have a good record with those. Promises, I mean.”

“Let’s clear the slate,” you suggested softly. “Start over to a point where all broken promises of the past are nothing but a mere memory, okay?”

Reggie nodded, placing his hands over yours. “I’d really like that Cookie,”

You smiled, removing your hand from his cheek and linking your pinky with his. It was just like when you were kids, but slightly different. This time, it had so much more meaning of hope and love. “Then take my promise to your heart, Flicka, because I’m not leaving. No matter what.”

Reggie rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting whatever tears had gathered to fall down his cheeks. You lifted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the spot right in between his eyes, letting your lips linger there a moment longer than they should have.  

“Dance with me Cookie?” he whispered. 

“Flicka, you know I suck at that,” you laughed quietly, ducking your head as your cheeks tinged red. 

“Don’t worry,” he sniffed as you wiped a few of his stray tears. “I won’t leave you hanging,” 

“Okay,” you breathed, allowing his hands to gently hold your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. 

As you gently swayed in the library you could vividly see two young teenagers in a brightly lit room dancing to the same song. 

You could hear Reggie softly humming along with the tune, but when you opened your eyes and looked at him you were brought back to reality and realized what you needed to do, 

“I’m gonna call the boys okay?” you said gently and Reggie winced. “I won’t tell them. I was just going to stay over at Rose’s place tonight so maybe we could all stay in the studio.” you suggested. “So you don’t have to go home.” 

“Y-You’d do that?” he asked, a certain tone of surprise in his voice. 

You pressed your lips together and nodded, pulling away from him. 

Making your way to the phone behind Mr. Mallard’s desk, you dialled Rose’s house number first to ask if it was okay to have everyone over, before making the subsequent calls to Alex, Luke, and Bobby. 

After dealing with the phone you checked the time. Technically you still had an hour of your detention left, but for today Mrs. Hillside just swore you to honesty. 

As much as it made you anxious to do so you looked over at Reggie and raised a brow. 

“Should we call it? We can walk over to Rose’s place. I told Luke to bring some comfortable clothes for you,” 

“Sure,” he nodded and you hesitantly let go of his hand. For some reason it felt like it was too much at once. You just needed a few moments to yourself. 

All you ever wanted was for things to go back to the way they were, but now that it seemed to be happening it was a lot to take in and Reggie sensed that so he didn’t push farther, only grabbing his bag and walking quietly by your side as you left the school through a backdoor that was locked from the outside. 

The situation for you both might have been one to cause panic or worry, but right now you both relished the fact that your friends were sure to provide a wonderful distraction. 

—

“Lady bunny, you’re wearing your pyjamas already?” Luke chuckled from his spot on the couch while you walked out of the washroom, day clothes folded in your arms. 

“I intend on relaxing today, kidnapper, thank you very much,” you said in a matter of fact tone. 

“You still wearing my shirt to bed, Cookie?” Reggie teased and you stuck your tongue out at him before retorting with, 

“Still wearing that Star Wars underwear Flicka?” 

“Yikes,” Alex scrunched up his nose and Reggie’s cheeks went a darker shade of red than they usually were. 

“They still fit okay, it would be a waste,” Reggie fought back. 

“No one wants to hear that,” Bobby grimaced while you and Rose laughed together, relaxing on the futon. 

“Why don’t we play a game or something?” Rose suggested. “Just to pass time, I mean this is a sleepover isn’t it?” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nodded. “Any suggestions?” 

“We could play would you rather?” Bobby said, “I mean that’s a favorite right?” 

You nodded in agreement. “I haven’t played that game in a while, but I’m down.” Everyone gathered around the coffee table. Prepared to sit next to Reggie, you felt someone’s hand grab yours and tug you down. Looking to your right, you saw Luke smiling giddily at you. 

“As your parent,” Luke said in a motherly tone. “I need to sit by your side in case any inappropriate language is used.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Luke,” he said. 

Luke gasped, covering your ears and pulling you to his chest. “Language!” he hissed. “We have a bunny here and I don’t want you to taint her mind with your demon words. No fucks, no shits, no dicks.” You shot the boy a look before pushing him off you. 

“Would someone tell this guy I’m not five?” you rolled your eyes only to have one of your cheeks pinched by Reggie while he snickered and said, 

“You sure look like it,” You threw an empty solo cup at him. 

“Who wants to go first?” Rose asked with a wide grin. 

“Oh me!” Luke exclaimed, raising his hand and waving it around wildly. 

“Sometimes I don’t know what you’re on,” Alex sighed and the rest of the group laughed. 

“Okay, okay, um, Bobby would you rather smash your guitar or have it run over by a semi?” 

“That’s just cruel,” Bobby looked at Luke wide eyed and he just gave him a smirk in return. He sighed heavily before saying, “I’d like to think if I smashed it, it would be from rocking out so hard so I’ll go with that one,” 

“Okay now it’s your turn,” you raised your brows at Bobby.

“Alright, (N/N), would you rather be locked in a room with Reggie or Luke?” 

You scrunched up your nose. “Both are horrible options,” you began, making the boys yell out in response. “But the real question is: would I rather be babied to oblivion or be murdered?” you thought for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t murder you!” Reggie exclaimed. “That’s too easy,” he smirked and you gasped, slapping his arm. 

“Hush you!” 

“What would you do to torture her then?” Rose asked curiously, knowing exactly what buttons she was pushing. 

“Well see if you really want to get someone you make them fall in love with you and then break their heart,” Reggie explained casually.

“Oh that is cold Reggie,” Alex said with wide eyes. 

“But I wouldn’t do that to (N/N), I think she deserves a murder,” Reggie shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup.

“Put me out of my misery,” you nodded. “Alright, I’d go with Reggie,” 

Luke pouted, leaning his head on your shoulder. “But we’d have fun, Lady Bunny,” he whined. “Don’t you love me?” 

You scoffed, flicking his forehead. “Barely,” you joked. Luke just grabbed you by the arms and brought you up to him, pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek. 

“I’m your mom you have to love me,” he poked and you made a face, wiping your cheek after he had kissed you. “Hey! That was a sign of motherly love, how dare you!” You smirked, flipping him off before continuing the game. 

After what seemed like hours passed, you and your friends got bored of the game once you started to run out of ideas. 

Alex was nearly passed out on the floor, but Bobby nudged him awake. “Can we play a new game now?” Bobby sighed. “I know would you rather was my idea, but I’m kinda tired of it.” 

You nodded tiredly, before your mind clicked with an idea, 

“Wait how about MASH?” you asked curiously. “Reggie and I used to play it all the time,” 

Reggie’s lips quirked up to a smile. “Yeah!” he exclaimed. “I’m still hoping I get that mansion and forty horses.” 

“I don’t understand how you play rock music. Were you born in Montana or something?” Rose chuckled. 

“Pfft,” Reggie scoffed while you laughed. He sighed and finally conceded with a nod. “Yeah okay, I’m not from here,” 

“Wait you’re not!” Luke exclaimed and Reggie shook his head. 

“I’m from Wyoming,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I moved here when I was like...four.” 

Bobby’s face turned sour. “Wyoming doesn’t exist,” he said stubbornly. 

Alex coughed, “Wait you don’t actually think that do you?” 

“It’s a joke Alex, and you ruined it,” Bobby rolled his eyes. “But seriously Reg, Wyoming?” he frowned. “Like what do you even do there?” 

“Live on a ranch,” Reggie sighed longingly and you tried to stifle a laugh, prompting him to put you in a headlock and ruffle your hair. 

“You’re laughing right now, but no one knows where you’re from,” he smirked. 

“Oh Reggie, you’re a dick.” 

“Language!” Luke exclaimed, trying to cover your mouth while you protested and Reggie explained that you also were not a California native. 

“(N/N)’s not from California either, she moved here when she was five,” Reggie explained. 

“From where?!” Alex asked, completely invested. 

“I thought we were gonna play MASH?” you tried to interject, but no one was listening to you and Reggie still had you locked under his arm. “Flicka don’t do this!” 

“She’s from Canada!” he grinned and you groaned. “And the town she lived in is called Saint-Louis du Ha!-Ha!” 

“Reginald!” you protested, finally wrestling yourself out of his grip while he laughed uncontrollably. 

“The city has two exclamation marks in its name!” 

“Guys,” Luke started seriously and Reggie’s laughter faded to silence as you listened to the band leader. “I-I have a confession to make. I’m also not from here,” 

“You’re not?!” Bobby was coming close to losing it, having not known about his friends. 

“I’m also from the Great White North,” 

“Wait really?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m from Fredrickton,” Luke grinned. 

“No way!” you exclaimed giddily. “So are you Acadian?” 

“Proudly so,” he nodded and you gave him a high five. 

“Canucks unite!” you laughed, not noticing the pointed glare Reggie was sending Luke. 

Bobby pulls his hair in frustration. “Okay, who else isn’t from California here?”

Rose sheepishly raised her hand, much to Bobby’s disbelief. “Puerto Rico?” she answered, more so like a question. 

“Dude,” Alex said, shaking his head. “She has a strong Puerto Rican accent.” 

Bobby stood up abruptly, storming off. “I’m out of here!”

You stifled back a giggle, calling out, “Bobby! Where are you going?” 

“TO THE FUCKING GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE,” he yelled back. “MAYBE I’LL FIND ACTUAL CALIFORNIANS THERE.” You rolled his eyes at his dramatics. You knew he would probably make it out the door before coming back in. The boy was far too lazy to make the drive, anyway. 

“I wonder if he realizes that I’m from California, too?” Alex pondered aloud. The entire group burst into laughter.

“Let’s just start the game without Bobby,” Rose suggested. “Who wants to go first?” 

“I can go,” Reggie nodded, grabbing a scrap of paper and writing down the things for each category.

“Okay hit me with some career options,” 

“Stripper,” you said, slapping his back and he rolled his eyes, but still followed the rules and wrote it down under occupations. “You’d be a terrible stripper though, you can’t dance and you have terrible balance,” 

“Okay I’d be an amazing stripper, but that’s besides the point,” Reggie countered and continued writing all the names and places his friends wanted thrown in his options. “Alright numbers now right?” You hummed in response. 

“Do five,” you said with a toothy grin. “That was how old we were when we met.” 

Reggie nodded, starting to go down each list and circling whatever he landed on. At one point as he counted, his face turned red as he hid the paper from you and everyone else’s view. Once he was done, you tugged on his arm. 

“Come on, Flicka,” you teased. “Show us what you got!” 

Reggie cleared his throat, “I mean is that really necessary?” he asked cautiously. 

“Come on it can’t be that bad,” Alex insisted. 

“Um, well it’s not bad perse,” 

“How do you know that word?” Luke teased and Reggie rolled his eyes. “Just tell us,” 

“Alright well I got a house, a music teacher, two kids, five horses and I’ll live here,” he nodded, trying to avoid a certain topic. 

“Who do you marry?” Rose asked curiously. 

“No one?” he answered unsurely.

Rose rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t an option,” she reminded him. “Come on, it’s just a game, Reg. Just show it.” When Reggie refused to move, Rose resorted to snatching the paper from his hands. 

“Rose!” he cried out, reaching for the paper. 

The girl only held the paper far away, squinting her eyes to read the circled mark. “It’s (N/N)!” she squealed. Rose and Alex high fived each other while you dug your into Reggie’s chest, completely flustered. As a response, Reggie wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his head against yours. 

“It’s okay (N/N),” he said loud enough for the rest to hear. “We can just murder them,” he smirked and they all burst into a fit of outrage, during which Reggie leaned in closer to you, his lips coming close to your ear while he whispered, 

“It’s nice to take a break every once in a while, right?” 

You nodded with a smile. 

“Yeah, Cookie can let loose,” you joked.

“Of course she can,” he smiled, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“Oh my God did you see that!” Rose pointed to you and Reggie and he stuck his tongue out at her. 

“What can’t a guy hug a gal?” he countered and you just placed your hand on Reggie’s mouth before he made it first, prompting him to teasingly bite your finger. 

“Flicka!” you complained while Luke immediately came to your rescue. 

“Guys! You gotta leave at least a foot for Jesus, come on this is beginner stuff,” he poked. Luke swatted Reggie’s hand away. “Get your hand off my daughter. I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet, Peters.” 

“Luke,” you whined at his extra comment. 

“If they think this is bad they should’ve seen the dance Mrs. Leona made us do,” Reggie nudged you and you agreed with a chuckle. 

“Since when are you guys in the dance class?” Bobby asked, coming back into the studio with more snacks. 

“We’re not, Mrs. Hillside assigned under Mrs. Leona’s care for a day and we helped choreograph a dance for the sophomores next semester,” you explained, totally not realizing the implications of what you had said. 

“You know they’re gonna make us dance now right?” Reggie sighed. 

“Shit, they are, aren’t they,” 

With a loud groan you both stood up and Reggie took your hand. 

“From the top Cookie?” 

“From the top,” you sighed with a roll of your eyes. 

Rose reached for the speakers, connecting her MP3 to them and playing the song. 

“Swing those hips, Reginald!” Luke whooped, reaching for the bowl of popcorn in the middle of the coffee table. Reggie mouthed a swear to his friend as his hands found his place on your hips. 

“Watch where you’re putting those hands!” Rose warned. Rolling his eyes, Reggie teasing dropped his hands lower, only for you to swat them away. 

“I’ll still bite you,” you hissed playfully. 

“Promise?” he shot back. 

Once the music started to play, you felt Reggie’s hand trail down your arm. Every move was burned to your memory as you danced along with Reggie. The comments of your friends -either cheering or teasing- escaped your mind. 

And all that you wanted was for the night to never end. 

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