#i still hate tagging with a fervent passion

[reallilystuff]

da soon.... da sun.... in roblonks......

would you give this fine gentleman -3 bobux......

drawing in roblox is actual hell. help. my wrist big hurty

[azullumi]

wanderer — kisszoned ☆彡

summary — what happens when the line of being friends has been crossed and the distance between you two has closed?

pairing — wanderer/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, they're friends, no dialogues just feelings and words; drabble

word count — 554

a/n — a little something before i go prepare for church, not proofread at all

it was sudden, something that you completely haven't and never expected to happen during your lifetime— feeling your dear friend's lips against yours, responding and kissing back, as you tangled your finger in his soft locks.

was it surprising? yes. do you hate it? no. could you say that the events beforehand lead you to this situation? somewhat. the distance that closed and disappeared after some time between you two, the amount of times wherein either of you brushed against the other accidentally—hiding the intentions of wanting to feel one's skin, the silence that reigned but still wanting to talk to each other, the intense and heavy atmosphere, and everything.

did he kiss you because the situation called for it? you hope not. wanderer may be an asshole at times but he's not the type to ever do that. hopefully.

if you were sane enough right as of this moment, you wouldn't be kissing him, you wouldn't even be doing this, but fuck, you were never sane and you just didn't care about anything. all you're thinking about is what is happening right now, how soft and sweet his lips are and how it molded against yours in such a perfect manner. you've had thoughts of how his lips would taste or how soft it really feels and you never thought that those will be answered. not even once.

it was evident from the hunger on his lips that he wanted more and he wanted to feel it all but he was hesitating, holding himself back, and so were you. you will never know what will happen as soon as the moment comes wherein the two of you would part from each other, you could never tell if those feelings are going to be hidden and replaced or will you go beyond the line set in your current relationship. despite how everything that it is, you could never say if the loud thumping of your heart was due to fear or excitement.

he groans against your mouth, tensing up and feeling his grip on the back of your hair tighten, his eyebrows knitting when you accidentally bite on the bottom of his lip. you squeezed his shoulder lightly as a small gesture of sorry and you immediately noticed him relax soon after. 

the kiss that was once fervent, hot and burning like fire soon turned to gentle and soothing, kindness being felt and only having the thoughts of savoring this moment, however, the desire was still much there. silent confessions being conveyed by the gentleness of one another’s lips against another, feelings that you have never known existed bubbled up against your throat and being communicated through one’s soft caresses, words being spilled against each other’s mouths.

you've known him only as a friend up until this moment when you felt his lips against yours, soft and gentle, passionate and comforting, you could never deny the affection that lingers at the caress of his fingers on your cheek and the love that laces his lips, you don't think you'll ever be able to look at him the same way as you did moments before this.

you've known him only as a friend and now that image has shattered and the boundary between you two has blurred to nothing, what do you two have now?

— navigation | masterlist

[bigwhispersbluebird]

Goodbyes with BTS (Maknae Line)

Warnings: Mentions of covid-19, implied smut

 Jimin

“Honey, I am home”, Jimin announced dramatically as he entered his apartment, quickly taking off his shoes and slipping into the home slippers- his heart still thumping in his ear from running all the way to you. 

He had almost screamed in frustration when the group was called for some urgent recordings for the new album that morning. He had looked at you curled up around his body, your big brown eyes staring up at him quizzically and he almost said no because you would be going back the next day and Jimin did not want to spend a single second away from you. 

From the moment you had announced that you would finally be visiting him after being apart for over 6 months, he had been on his toes making calls and plans to assure that nothing would disturb him. But you insisted that he go to work, “At least, I will be able to pack my stuff without you clinging on to my body”, you had joked and he left hurriedly so that he could be back soon. 

But as soon as he walked into the bedroom, his eyes caught sight of the suitcases neatly lined at the farthest corner of the wall, ready to be tagged and carried- Jimin suddenly felt like somebody was plucking his heart out of his chest and without uttering another word, he quietly walked towards you, standing in front of the closet and folding your shirts neatly, and engulfed you in a warm hug; his arms wrapped around your waist and his face deeply snuggled in the crook of your neck. 

Jimin inhaled the sweet scent of lavender mixed with your body musk and realized that it was home to him. Your hands gently carressed his arms as he gently placed kisses on your neck and you understood every word he couldn’t say. 

“I wish I could ask you to stay”, Jimin whispered slowly and you wished you could take away all the pain he was feeling. It was not easy to part over and over again but your studies were important for you and it was just a matter of a few years, then you both would be in the same city. Until then, this was the choice you both had made. 

Turning around, you looked him in the eye before pulling him in for a passionate kiss, growing fervent and rough with all the goodbyes between you two. 

That night, as you both lay in a tangled mess of limbs and rushed hands, you both silently promised each other to wait, no matter how long it took.

Taehyung or V

“5 am tomorrow. Be there till 3 30″.

Taehyung read the message from the notification bar and slid it across the screen, making it disappear. Then, he turned the ring on mute and pocketed his phone, he did not want to be disturbed tonight. 

Standing at the door of the art gallery, for the first time, his eyes did not linger on the beautiful pieces of art that decorated the wall. Instead, he searched for a familiar figure and the same silky locks of hair that were tangled around his long slender fingers all those years ago. 

Granted, he had not seen you since the time you both met in Italy, even then surrounded by art and music- he had searched desperately for you ever since. And it seemed like fate had decided to have mercy on him when he heard about a musical art exhibition at Prague and remembered the way you had laid your head on his chest, your hair spilling on his bare body, and talked about that particular idea being your dream. 

You stood in front of a massive painting in the far end of the room, still as awestruck by the strokes and colors on the canvas as you were the first time a boy with a boxy smile had watched you unwrap it. You remember holding onto this giant board of colors through years of remote silence and wondering if it was just a mirage or the boy that had left without a goodbye had once promised that he would come back. 

“Is this one for sale?”, a voice broke you out of your reverie and if it wasn’t for the fact that you had watched him on social media like an addict, you would have forced your brain to consider it all a cause of sleepless nights and alcohol in your system. But it was him, it was Kim Taehyung and suddenly you were 22 again with small dreams and a boy you were irrecoverably in love with. 

Without even glancing at his way again you replied as calmly as you could muster, “No. You cannot make a home out of this one”. 

Taehyung almost flinched at your words but he reminded himself that he deserved it. 

“Home only demands love”, he spoke only audible enough for your ears. 

“It demands the presence of that love at least, not the promise of one. Not words or music or stupid paintings, Mr. Kim Taehyung”, you had now turned towards him, your eyes boring into his and even though your angry eyes met his remorseful ones, the only thing you both could recognize in them was the love that had been there all those years ago. 

“I missed you, Y/N”, he whispered as he suddenly pulled you into him. His arms holding you tight and you almost stood their motionless until a lone tear slipped down your cheeks and you returned the hug. 

“You’re too late, Tae. Too late”.

He did not reply for a while, not wanting to let the moment slip away until it had to. 

But when he had finally memorized your scent and the familiar contours of your body and how it fit in his like pieces of a puzzle, he pulled back. His hand slid down your arms until they held your slender fingers in his, his thumb gently grazing the big diamond on your ring finger, “I know”.

Jungkook

Jungkook loves being surrounded with familiarity. Familiar faces that he loves and trusts, a bowl of ramyeon in a foreign city, loud cheers from fans that had been there all along, a ticket always back home and you. Perhaps, that is a reason why he hated things that disturbed the peace he had found in his life. 

But when Covid-19 hit the world, it was like his world tilted on its axes and all that was familiar was lost. Already reeling from the shock of the tour being cancelled, Jungkook had held the phone in his hand and couldn’t help but breakdown as you told him that you had no idea when you could fly to Korea. 

You had expanded your business to Korea as well which made it easier for you to spend plenty of time with your boyfriend and you both had gotten used to the travelling if it meant being together for most part of the year. 

Jungkook was not taking it well. He would spend hours at the gym then hours dancing till he could not feel anything other than the excruciating pain in his body. He would barely talk to you, only giving one word answers and never answering video calls- his heart knowing well that it could not bear looking at you and being unable to touch you or feel you. 

However, he loved you and as days passed on and the unfamiliarity of Covid-19 became familiar, Jungkook could finally see how much he had hurt you. Even through all that, you had maintained a brave face and been normal with him in the moments he would actually talk to you. You knew Jungkook and perhaps that is why you could not blame him for acting that way. You knew that this boy is made of love and purity and it would not be long till he finds his way back to you, like he always did. 

So, when one night you prepared to go to bed, a message popped up on your phone. 

“Thank you for making me realize that we can get through anything”

And along with it was an acoustic version of a song Jungkook had recently written and was yet to be released. 

As still with you played in your empty dark apartment, Jungkook’s sweet voice bouncing off the walls and hugging you, you finally let your tears fall as you whispered the words that you both craved to hold each and say:

“I miss you”.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.5)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Five) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,944 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author's Note: I'm using the new post editor so I'm not sure if the tags are working??? Can someone let me know, thanks!

Part Four || Part Six || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

After Steve had let you go, you had gone inside, ending your night abruptly. You locked yourself in the bedroom all night, planning to refuse to let them in if they asked. They surprisingly left you alone. You wondered where they had slept but surmised it was just another room because there were multiple in the house.

You laid awake in the morning for a long time, staring out the window at the waves, lost in your racing thoughts. If they were serious about either being here or in an apartment back in the city, you wondered if just staying here would be so bad. But then you thought of whenever they would need to come with their wives – this was a beach house after all for them. Where would you go during those times? Maybe Steve had just spoken out of anger and did not mean here.

Why did you constantly attract men like this?

But how surprised were you with men as wealthy and entitled as them?

You scowled for the umpteenth time thinking of how casually they had brought it into conversation and acted like you were being unreasonable at the idea of it. Men screwed you for awhile and then got bored. That is how it always went. In other circumstances though, you were able to pivot to someone else. You were not going to have that opportunity here. And it scared you.

You wished you could just call an Uber and go back home but there was no way to sneak out of the house without talking to them. And it was not like they did not know where you lived. But if they had some time to think, maybe they would realize how outlandish their proposal was from your point of view.

Grumbling, you rolled over away from the window. You were getting hungry though and you had to face them sooner or later.

As if they could read your thoughts, someone walked in without knocking and you listened to their footfalls coming towards the bed. They stopped on the side of the bed that you were facing away from. Peace was going to be broken.

The comforter was torn back, and you groaned, grabbing blindly for it. But it was too far down the bed. Rolling onto your back, you sighed tiredly.

Tony was staring down at you, wearing shorts and a button down with sunglasses hanging off his chest, looking as posh as ever.

“It’s almost 10am, Y/N.”

“Five more minutes,” you tried.

“No,” Tony returned firmly immediately. “Get up. We are going on the boat. Get you some fresh air. You can get some sun, relax on a towel while we work.”

Reluctantly, you sat up in bed, rubbing at your eyes. You got up and went over to your suitcase to dig through to find another swimsuit since you had made a mess of the other one with Steve last night on the dock. Tony had not left and you looked over your shoulder, seeing he had sat down in the wicker chair by the window and was peering out. He was making sure you got ready and in a timely fashion.

You made to go to the bathroom and Tony piped up from behind you, amusement lacing his tone, “Never thought I’d see you be shy about being naked.”

Stopping, you looked at him, “I need to use the restroom.”

“Ah,” Tony said before turning his head to look out the window again.

You turned back again and went into the restroom to get ready.

When you came back out, he was still waiting, scrolling through his phone. You snatched the cover up off the top of your suitcase and threw it over your head.

“Get some shoes on, we gotta drive to the marina.” You apparently did not mask your confusion because Tony explained, “The boat is in the marina down the road.”

“So… not the speedboat?”

Tony snorted loudly, “No. That’s for crabbing. We are going sailing.”

You could not imagine owning even one boat, no matter what it was.

Getting into the car, you saw Steve was already in there in the backseat where you were supposed to sit in the middle. Two of their men were in the front seats; probably who was going to be driving the boat today.

You gave him a weak smile, “Morning.”

“You slept in,” he commented dryly, scrolling through his phone, barely sparing you a glance.

He did not seem happy.

Tony slid into the seat beside you, and you were shifted closer to Steve which is the last thing you thought he wanted right now. But he made no move to shift away so maybe that was a good sign.

“I was tired,” you mumbled.

He merely made a noise of acknowledgment. You must have really bruised his ego. Sucking your teeth, you turned your attention back to Tony who seemed to want to engage with you.

A complete opposite from Steve. He was all smiles, his fingers intertwining with yours and pulling you close. You leaned towards him as he pointed out places along the waterfront that you all could go for lunch after boating. And all the gossip about people he recognized walking.

The boat was long, longer than you expected. And you accepted Tony’s help crossing the gap to get up onto it. He held you close as it took off, Steve still extremely engrossed in his phone across the way.

“You been on a boat before?” Tony asked curiously against your ear. You smiled from the sensation of his breath and shook your head, turning slightly to look at him. He smiled mischievously, his grip tightening. “Okay, well, if you get sick, let us know.”

A few minutes passed and he sighed.

“We are coming up on the inlet. It’s going to be a little rough but don’t worry. That’s normal. The ocean is meeting the calmer water in here.”

His arm came even tighter around you as the bow hit the waves, trying to hold you in place as well as he could. You leaned back into him and you felt him adjust to let you lean even further. His hand gripped your hip tighter, his thumb caressing. It was comforting and you let it be, relishing in the semblance of normalcy.

When you had hit calmer waters, Tony had encouraged you to get up and take a towel to the bow of the boat. There was a place to sunbathe. Him and Steve needed time to talk business. You did not argue, grabbing one of the towels. But you hesitated seeing what you needed to walk around.

“You need help?” Tony breathed against your ear and you laughed despite yourself. You hated how comfortable he made you feel.

“No, I’ll just hold onto the railing,” you said.

“Don’t go overboard now,” he teased before backing off.

You stepped up and went along the side of the boat, holding onto the railing. You felt his eyes on you and that is what you focused on; his attention, not the thought of you actually taking a header over the side of the boat into the waves.

<><><>

At first, you had started on your back, but you had flipped onto your stomach by now. The sun was comforting, and after time, you had gotten used to the swell of the waves. It was actually relaxing.

The wood creaked next to you and you could tell by the cologne that it was Tony. You cracked your eyes open, and he smiled, seeing you saw him as he laid down next to you. He had lost his shirt. You smiled in return before closing your eyes again.

Tony’s fingers ghosted down your back coming to rest on your ass.

“I thought you just wanted me to lay here and get sun,” you murmured, not opening your eyes.

Tony chuckled, “I do. I’m just appreciating you, sweetheart.”

His fingers dug in slightly and he let out an exhale, his fingers continuing to caress. You had been in this business long enough to read prodding body language.

You opened your eyes, peering up at him. “Do you want me to turn over?”

“Well…” Tony chuckled. “Since you’re offering.”

You did, and he was on you immediately. His kisses were soft and you welcomed it when his lips finally met yours after gracing your collarbone. He moaned softly against your mouth, his tongue slipping in. Your hands came up to grip the back of his head, wanting to make him happy.

He forced his hand underneath your back, and you arched your back to give him access. He undid your bikini top clumsily. It took him no time to tear the straps down your arms and toss them behind him back onto the deck.

Tony was gentle in caressing your breasts, taking it slow as he worked you up. You fell into his rhythm, forgetting everything else. His hand slipped down underneath your bottoms, his fingers pressing past your lips with gentle purpose. You smiled into his kiss.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just like how gentle you’re being. It’s different,” you said.

“Mhm, that’s a compliment if I ever heard one,” he murmured, hooking his fingers beneath the strap of your bottoms. You let him pull them down your legs.

He crawled on top of you, and you kissed him back fervently. Tony pinned your hips down, slipping up into you. Your arms hooked around his neck, falling into the rhythm. Kissing him deeply as he thrusted up into you, you gasped against his lips.

His hand cradled your head, his kiss passionate as he emptied inside you.

When he rolled off of you, he exhaled deeply. He sat up slightly after a few moments, searching and located your sunscreen.

He sat up fully now and said, “Since you are going the no tan lines route now, let me do you back up.”

You accepted the reapplication gratefully, his hands touching every crevice, making sure you were completely covered. He gestured for you to sit up and you did, making sure he got your back.

When you laid back down, he finished with your face, his fingers moving delicately. You smirked and he said, “Sunburns are a serious thing, love. Just making sure you’re protected. I’ll let you get back to it, I got work to do. Peace and tranquility again for you up here, whatever that means.”

<><><>

Coming back to the cooler at the other end of the boat, Tony pulled out the bottle of bourbon. Steve was relaxing on a chair, dark sunglasses resting on his nose.

“Any update?” Tony asked, pouring himself a drink.

Steve nodded, “They found a couple options. I’ll send them to you. I personally like the third, but they are all close to the office, so it won’t take us long to get over to her.”

“Are they all—”

“Near the top of the buildings, yes. No easy access out a window.”

“Good,” Tony nodded approvingly, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’ve already contacted Tatiana. Told her what we are offering to pay out for the contract,” Steve went on, lying his hand down on his thigh to look away from his phone.

“She happy with it?”

“Of course she is. Money talks.”

Tony took another drink and said, “That’s good. I was going to get irritated by any hiccups.”

“Any morehiccups,” Steve corrected sounding sour.

Tony waved him off and said, “Y/N shows her teeth but she’s not going to bite. She’s a good girl. We can handle it. She’s just flustered. She’ll settle down.”

“How are you so calm about this, I’ll never know.”

“I’ve had mistresses’ before. Granted, I got tired of them pretty quick, but they were also super needy, wanting to be number one, which is never the goal of this situation. Y/N is the exact opposite of that,” Tony shrugged. “It’s giving me hope this could work out very well.”

“Well, the fact she’s not needy is the reason we need to keep her corralled.”

“Corralled for a while,” Tony corrected him now. “Not permanent. It won’t take her long. She’ll ease into being on her own and get over losing that cheap ass room she had at the brothel. People like comfort and she’ll have a lot of that when she realizes she likes being able to stretch out and have the whole place to herself. And she likes gifts, that’s not going to stop. She’ll be able to make her own meals, a luxury she has not had, especially in her own kitchen. She’ll have control over her environment. It’s simple, Steve. Comfort.”

Steve stared at Tony, taking that in. And Tony smiled, raising his glass. “You might be older than me year wise, but I’ve got more wisdom, Cap.”

<><><>

“I don’t want to do this,” you hissed at Tatiana.

You had cornered her the moment you had gotten back to the brothel. The last day, Steve had warmed up again. The subject of the apartment had not come up again and you were unsure if you should have brought it up again or maybe it was a settled manner that it was not going to happen.

But that theory had been destroyed when they dropped you off, telling you that they had found a place and it would be ready for you in a few days. You had kept it together, giving them the kisses on the cheek before getting out of the car. Upon seeing Tatiana though, who looked jubilant for you, you immediately stormed into her office. You noticed one of their guys had stayed behind to keep an eye on you and you huffed before closing the door in his face.

Tatiana was caught off guard and was at a loss for words for a few moments before she cleared her throat. “Y/N,” she said in a worried tone.

You came close and whispered desperately, “Please. Just distract the guy so I can slip out the back.”

“Where are you going to go?” she asked you in hushed tones, perplexed.

“Back home!” you said throwing your hands out. “It won’t be that bad. I’ll just get a normal job and bunk with people and just live some boring ass life.”

She exhaled slowly and you felt it coming; she was on their side and your heart sank. “Y/N. Listen to me. Do you understand the opportunity you have here?”

“There’s no—”

“No, shut it. There is. You are being given an apartment. You are being given income.”

“But they’re going to control everything!” you said pathetically.

“I thought you liked them.”

“I… did. I do. I hate I like them. But, then they just turned out like every other man that I’ve been with.”

“Did they?”

“Yes, it’s about controlling me,” you said, emotions overwhelming you. You wiped at your eyes and sniffled.

“I don’t think that’s all of it,” Tatiana said and you waited for her to go on. She shrugged, “I think they’re being forceful, yes. That’s how men like them are though. They are… intense. You have a debt to pay though and they get to choose how you’re going to pay it back. That’s how this works, that’s how it’s going to work. But, I think they killed the guy for a reason other than just to get you underneath their thumbs. Do you really think they don’t enjoy you?”

“They enjoy me plenty,” you muttered, wiping at your eyes again. “I… I just want to get to a place where I can just do what I want. Make enough money and make it on my own.”

Tatiana took your hands and made you look her in the eyes. “Stellina, I’m not going to help you escape. I am not going to willingly piss off two of the most powerful men in the city. I love you, dearly, but it is not something I can do. I can’t risk blowback and have it affect the other women. You understand that, right?”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad to have your own place,” Tatiana continued softly. “All the space just for you… peace and quiet. You can decorate it how you want. And what you’re saying about making it your own? I’ve just told you that you can make it your own.”

Swallowing thickly, you bit your cheeks to stop from crying again. You knew what she was saying was true. It would not serve anyone well here if she did what you were asking. And hell, who even knew if you could escape.

You forced yourself to nod. “Yeah… maybe.”

“You’ll be okay, Y/N.”

<><><>

You had never had an entire apartment to yourself, so walking in overwhelmed you a bit. Everything was so new, the windows large. You did not know if it had come furnished or if they had bought the furniture.

The walls in the hall were bare and you thought of what things you could buy to make it a little homier. The bedroom was bare as well except for the bed, nightstands, and your dresser. It was a nice bed which served to lift your spirits a little. You left your suitcase and bag at the end of the bed before crossing the hall to go to the bathroom. You almost breathed a sigh of relief seeing that laundry was in unit. Another huge perk.

They were waiting out in the living room, hands in their slack’s pockets, waiting for you to come back out apparently.

“Apparently there are barbeques up on the roof,” Tony commented. “Shared of course. But that might be good for a night.”

You had never lived in a building with a rooftop terrace either.

“Nice,” you said sounding happier than you felt.

Walking over to the fridge, you opened the door finding basic things.

“I set up a grocery delivery service for you. I wrote down all the logins you’re going to need for the WiFi, Netflix, Prime, etc on the counter over here,” Steve spoke, drawing your attention to a laminated sheet sitting on the island.

Your face scrunched in confusion. “I can get my own groceries. I saw a place not far from here.”

“Soon,” Steve said cryptically. “When you get the keys and are able to lock the door from the outside, that can become an option.”

“You have the keys,” you said slowly, having seen him with your own two eyes unlock the door to come in.

Steve ran his tongue across his lip, staring at you. He said simply after a few moments, “You don’t get the keys yet.”

“What?” you asked flabbergasted, shooting a look at Tony who was standing there stoically.

“Maybe after a while in here you’ll realize how good it is what you’re being offered,” Steve stated. “And we can trust you with the keys.”

Just when you thought maybe things would pan out.

“I realize it,” you said quickly to the two of them. “I… It was stupid of me to be upset about it. It’s fine. I’m over it.”

“We don’t believe you,” Tony said plainly, and your mouth fell open at his blunt reply. You did not like the look on his face or his tone. “So, for a while, you’re going to just stay in here. Earn our trust.”

“Stay… in here?” you asked slowly. “So, you’re going to lock me in here?”

Tony came up to you, and you nervously met his gaze. “It’s just temporary. It’s not forever.”

“You’ve got everything you need in here,” Steve chimed in. “There’s no need for you to get upset about it, Y/N, and have another outburst.”

Anger bubbled up and bubbled up quick.

“Fuck you,” you spat at him, seeing their faces fall into shock at your boldness. You turned on your heel and stormed off towards the bedroom.

You only made it halfway down the hall before you heard Tony sigh, “Steve, leave her alone” and a rough hand grabbed your arm, jolting you back. You collided with Steve’s chest and he pointed a finger directly in your face.

“I don’t let my wife talk to me like that and I sure as hell won’t stand for you to talk to me like that,” he snapped.

“Let me go,” you said worriedly trying to yank away from him.

His jaw set and he released you angrily, taking a step back. “Watch your damn attitude!” he snapped again, before turning and storming off towards the door. “I’ll be in the car.”

The door slammed behind him and Tony blew a raspberry.

“Y/N, take some time. You apparently need the space,” he said, his tone tight. You said nothing. “We’ve got a couple guys here. One will be on your hall and one is down in the lobby. Order your groceries. Watch some TV. I’ll check back in later. I gotta get back to work. Remember to lock the door behind me.”

With that, he left too, calmly unlike Steve. But you could tell he was irked that you had cursed at them.

This was the first time they had left you without expecting a kiss.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming, @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick, @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

[mythicamagic]

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Susie you sent so many! Bahaha, I might do some others of yours but otherwise this might be the ask I do out of the ones you sent lolol 

Put under a ‘read more’ for length

---

There wasn't much that could rattle Kagome Higurashi.

She remained adaptable, resolute, and forthright throughout most stressful situations, having stepped up to the plate to assist Mama with housework and babysitting after her father had died. She could experience surprise, sure. Mock tests could throw her until she dug her heels in. A guy could ask her out and she'd recover soon enough- slap away a non-consensual kiss or thigh grab easily.

But bone-shaking, heart-stopping, crippling shock? To be blind-sighted by complacency? Only one demon proved capable of doing that.

"Why does it not surprise this one to find you still emerged knee-deep in the fossils of the past, Kagome?" the syllables of her name slip-free in a quiet, resonant baritone.

Kagome jolted, stiffening. Gradually turning within the museum hallway- caught between alarm and confusion- her breath halted.

Gone were his golden eyes and the silver stream of long hair. Instead, he wore contacts, hair short, black and slightly tousled from the wind. Despite all this, if Kagome relaxed her eyes- she could see the suggestion of glamour hazing his appearance, a murky white outline around his hair hinting at its true colour.

Sesshoumaru's cold, handsome face was practically unchanged. Perhaps there were the faintest shifts- his body appearing slightly more built, features just a tad older in the firm line of his jaw.

He presented her with a small potted plant, since he knew she hated cut flowers. The seriousness with which he offered the tiny white flowering bulb almost made her smile, almost. "Congratulations on graduating."

"Thanks," she said automatically, unable to stop staring. She cautiously accepted the gift, skin managing to avoid his touch as though it were a live-wire. "How'd you hear about that?"

"Your mother told me."

"O-oh," she blinked, realising he must've gone to her house first before tracking her down at work. Kagome swallowed, conflicting feelings arising. Shaking them off, she drew her shoulders back and turned flippantly to stride down the hall. "So how’s things? Nice weather we’re having, huh?"

“It has been a long time, miko,” his voice turned solemn, filled with something inexplicable as he followed, keeping pace easily. Kagome pretended not to hear the silky reverence in his tone. “Is there not anything more...substantial, we could be discussing?”

She hummed, “less than five-hundred years isn’t so long.”

“The centuries dragged. I felt every day as though it were a month.”

“I’m sure your mate kept you occupied.”

“This one would not know, I never mated.”

Kagome stiffened, grinding her teeth. “Oh,” she muttered. The life she’d pictured for him fell away, crumbling into ash. Somehow she wasn’t comforted by it.

"You have a boyfriend,” he rumbled, a statement not a question.

"Mama told you that too?" Kagome asked, walking to an exhibit and setting the plant down in favour of gathering her notes, expecting another round of kids fresh off the bus to arrive at any minute.

"No, the hickey on your neck that you've tried to hide with make-up served as enough evidence," he pointed out, vaguely amused.

She reddened a touch, tugging her collar up self-consciously. "Observant as always.”

"It is only a recently acquired skill. Looking back, this one was quite blind during our time together," he hummed. "Lack of experience. I understand plenty now. Would you care for coffee? Strictly platonic, of course."

"... I don't think that's such a good idea, do you?" Kagome gripped her papers tight. "I wouldn’t appreciate my boyfriend meeting up for coffee with an ex."

Sesshoumaru’s eyes glinted, smiling slightly. "And you would not lie by telling him we were friends," his gaze warmed as though savouring something, sweeping ageless attention over her with a lingering, intimate air that made her remember warm lazy mornings spent in his arms.

Kagome’s hands tightened further, crumpling the organised papers, fingers shaking. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

He exhaled, voice soft. "You have not changed."

Her heel drew back, tucking the notes under her arm. Sweaty palms smoothed over her neat blue pencil skirt and blouse. Six years wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough time to get over him. 

“Guess not,” she dismissed, refusing to give a snippet of passion. But the acid was there, simmering beneath her tongue. She couldn’t help but glance at him. “...Feels like a waste; you not even mating a pureblood. I thought it meant a lot to you.”

“Pureblooded heirs meant a lot to me,” Sesshoumaru clarified. He stepped closer, and Kagome shuddered, moving back to maintain distance. 

Noticing this, the demon stopped. Regret hazed his carefully arranged expression, before he inclined his head, dark bangs hanging forward. “This one did not intend to open old wounds, miko.”

“Then what did you want?” her voice shook. 

“To show that I have...changed. It was foolish of me to let you go.”

“You were just upholding your beliefs. It’s not like you ever said you wanted Hanyou kids, I just assumed you’d be fine with it since we were fucking,” Kagome bit out. “Of course, getting your kicks and actually raising half-breeds are two totally different things. I shouldn’t have figured you were over your bigotry- that I’d solved anything by being a really good lay.”

“This Sesshoumaru was wrong-”

“Well lucky you, I didn’t get pregnant during our magical time together, so we dodged a bullet there. It was just miscommunication. A young relationship. I’m over it.”

She didn’t feel over it. 

"Look, you've seen me. Can that just be enough? Let’s end it here.”

Sesshoumaru moved closer, gazing at her fervently. He opened his mouth to say more, before it clicked shut, jaw clenching. "If that is what you wish."

"Yep, I'm super busy," Kagome pretended to check her watch, not registering in the time. 

"I have an office downtown," he shifted. "If you need a 'non-friend' I am easy enough to find," pausing as he turned- Sesshoumaru slowly reached out. He tucked the tag down at the back of her blouse that had stuck up slightly at the back of her collar. "Some habits are hard to kick, hm?" he uttered softly. He'd used to do the same thing all the time whenever she’d worn modern clothes in the feudal era. 

Back when she'd been his.

Kagome’s breath shuddered. "I'm not going to come to your office.”

"Perhaps that is a good idea," a tempting mouth hovered close to her ear. "Otherwise there would be no witnesses to save you, and I'd have to demonstrate the full extent of how much I've missed you, Kagome," his voice barely contained the purr of longing that rolled out between them as he pulled away. Sesshoumaru then turned. He took his leave silently and regally, like nothing had happened. 

As though he hadn’t just sauntered in and shattered her all over again.

[anlian-aishang]

Kinktober Day 17: Mirror Sex / Sex Tape

AAHH I saw that the last Kinktober slot is still open, I hope I'm not too late? Can I request either cockwarming and/or mirror sex? (feel free to pick whatever you're comfortable with)

one slot left still? how about sex tape

Word count: 1200

Tags: smut, levi x reader, mirrors, filming, fem!reader

Remember! Levi hates art theft.

You could not pinpoint why exactly, but you had some nerves now that you were actually in the setup. The camera and its blinking red recording light were surprisingly of least concern. With mirrors on the walls and on the ceiling, there was no turning away from their presence. Soon enough, though, you realized: you would not want to anyways.

With your back to the headboard, you were sat up in bed, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. Levi pressed one knee into the edge of the mattress and swung the other opposite your hip, lightly mounting you.

He could tell you were nervous. His hand met your cheek, his palm warm, fingers gentle. “Relax, sweetheart.” His other hand took yours and brought your fingertips to his lips. “It’s just you and me.”

You peeked your eyes open and gazed at him, trying to focus on only him. However, your peripheral vision forced you to pay a little attention to the glass. In the reflection were both of you, you in your best lingerie, him in tight black briefs. The sun was setting, illuminating both of you in a perfect twilight. The bed and its sheets were white and pristine. Suddenly, you saw yourself in the lens of a movie where you were the star.

Frankly, you loved the way you looked, feeling more confident in your appearance and self than you had in a while. Your confidence radiated, your whole self was glowing, and he absolutely adored it.

Verbally, he told you, “You look so fucking gorgeous.” Physically, he communicated as well with the hardening against your thigh.  

The panes you were initially intimidated by had instead given you a newfound ego. You hooked your elbow at the back of his undercut and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Levi startled out gentle, recalling how anxious you had been in the first place. Instead, you acted the opposite: instantly pushing your tongue past his lips and grazing his mouth with teeth. Two devious hands trailed down his chest, abdomen, and to his V - sneaking under his cotton and massaging his member. Levi snickered against your mouth. Gonna be like that, huh? His little sex kitten was coming through and coming alive.

He brought a hand to the side of your neck and squeezed, just tightly enough to leave imprints, to intensify your breathing, and to make your head spin. Levi maintained the kiss as he hooked his finger under the waistband of your panties and tugged down, revealing your glistening skin. Two fingers descended down your waist and to your folds, tugging them apart and pushing inside.

This was only his first move but you were already soaked. His fingers rocked in and out effortlessly, your arousal providing endless amounts of lubrication. Two fingers, three fingers, four - your walls clamped around them all and thirsted for more.

He immediately knew which position this called for. Levi grabbed you up top and down below, strong hands dug into your skin. Fervent crescent divots were left from his nails. In one swift motion, he had flipped you on your hands and knees and brought his tip to your entrance.

He gave a few preparatory thrusts, but the scene had you wanting it, demanding it, pleading for it now. You met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror and called, a sexy raspiness in your throat, “Please, Levi. Please…” Your jaw hung open in craving, “I want it - “ A desperate gasp, “I need it - you - now…”

In your face was a perfect blend of begging and ordering, submission and sluttiness, he was not going to deny you a second longer - it was already clear you would be making use of these angles again.

At last, when he pushed himself in, your thirst was quenched. His cock and its curve were perfect, reaching far back into you and working your G-spot.

With the addition of the mirror, you fell even more in love with the position that was already and always one of your favorites. Past the forefront of yourself, in the background, was Levi fucking you from behind. Never before had you had this perspective. Instead of looking over your shoulder to catch a mere glimpse, you could look straight ahead and see everything without strain. The way his muscles flexed, abs moved, hips rocked was a view you had never seen before and fuck was it good.

Levi grunted, continuing to slam into you, “You like this, baby?”

You met his eye contact in the mirror, both of your lids half-shut with pleasure. Sentence interrupted with each powerful thrust, “Y-Yeah, I lo’ve it, Le’vi…!”

He smirked and thrust his fingers towards your mouth. It was such a habit, you did not need to be told anymore. You closed your eyes and sucked him off, swirling your tongue around each of his digits, tasting the sweet remnants of your own arousal. He adored being able to see you - all of you - this way.

“Mmm…” Levi growled, “such a good girl…”

Levi threw his hand in your hair and tangled himself in it, yanking you closer and further down his dick. His engorged tip hit all the way back and made your insides stir. The slapping of his skin against yours, like the fucking itself, was turning louder, harder, faster.

Your breaths turned to pants, “Hah- Hah- Levi…!” Your body began to react instinctively, taking control away from you and into the forces of nature. That familiar pressure built in your core, the flawless views you had only enhancing it.

You watched him lean over, intensifying his degree, making sure to get that critical angle that would get you there. In addition to that new depth and new friction, Levi snapped his fingers to your clit and rubbed ferociously, “I wanna feel you cum - “ He bit down on your neck and whispered in your ear, “Cum all over my cock.”

You arched your back, allowing his front to meet you entirely - cheeks, slit, clit, and all. The stimulation was overwhelming and the floodgates were rising, “Ah! Fuck!” Climax was cascading, “Ohh fuck, Levi…!”

And just like he asked, you obeyed his orders, tightening and releasing around his erection. Before your eyes fluttered shut, you caught his lustful expression - completely captivated by the sight of your cunt convulsing around his cock. His desire, power, attraction, all staying at the forefront of your mind as you called his name in climax. Your waves of pleasure expelled upon him, reciprocating the added stimulation he had provided you earlier, giving him as powerful an orgasm as he had given you.

As soon as you could manage, you peeked your eyes open, taking in his reaction. He threw his head back in climax before flinging it forward upon release. Bangs spread across his face were a clear illustration of just how riled he was. The pants in his chest were rapid, producing low and swift gasps of pleasure. “Fuck… Oh, fuck me!!” His cries gave you chills, chills that lasted until he came down and held you in his arms.

You wished that the sex could have lasted forever. You squinted your eyes and tried your hardest to etch those scenes into your memory. Levi breathed a single chuckle before rising from the bed and disassembling the tripod.

In the presentness of the mirrors, you seemed to have forgotten: this memory would last forever.

Kinktober Year 1 Masterlist

[phoebehalliwell]

ships: Paige/Leo, Piper/Coop, Prue/Richard, Phoebe/Kyle, Phoebe/Richard, Prue/Jason, Piper/Henry, Paige/Andy

hahah yess prue richard deadass was gonna send an ask to myself being like hi it's me prue richard!! if no one said them so glad u did yeehaw

paige & leo

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

my favorite of the non-canon leo ships gonna pull the tag for y’all to peruse but no i love them man

piper & coop

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

it’s the whole i love love thing i think they’d pair really well together also because whenever piper would roast him for his optimism he’d just laugh and piper would have to look away pretending not to smile

prue & richard

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

i think this pairing could be so rich and so interesting i mean like. both are eldest siblings i believe both lost their “soulmate” (andy & olivia) both have complex relationships with their parents, one of whom is dead, both get angry at this concept of fate and destiny because it fucking blows to quote richard if there's some kind of grand plan, it sucks that and prue doesn’t just like accept shit or tolerate shit same with paige with the ultimatum like me or magic that thing because both piper and phoebe are kind of stick around thru thick n thin type people prue and paige are like yeah if you’re actively going to destroy yourself i’m not going to sit by and watch 

phoebe & kyle

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

i kind of prefer them as a brotp because i like their coworker energy but i love how phoebe’s like i don’t fuckin like brody he doesn’t know shit he’s a dick and kyle’s like i’m literally right here. and i have the answer to your question. and phoebe takes it and it’s right and she’s like cool thanks ur still and dick and you don’t know shit and kyle’s like okay. just like. people who are like no i hate them and they’re stupid but would (not so) secretly trust the other with their life bc what can i say they’re actually very capable and smart

phoebe & richard

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

they kinda lack chemistry and phoebe straight up doesn’t like him and richard kinda doesn’t really care and then if they were to get together we know phoebe’s love tends to blind her to flaw of which richard has many, many, obvious, blatant flaws so like. that would also be rough. but like. an au could be spun, i’m sure

prue & jason

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

here’s the thing they’re both so reserved and both so guarded with their hearts that i don’t think they’d ever really make it because they’d get the vague feeling the other is pulling away and then just kind of drift away from them creating a self fulfilling prophecy 

piper & henry

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

i just know henry would act like he thinks all of piper’s soapy shows are dumb and stupid and then be in the room for an episode and now he’s hooked and they watch them together with the same fervent passion middle-aged men from the rust belt watch sports

paige & andy

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

i’ve done an au for them before but i feel like it’s just very tricky dynamic wise timeline wise i think their personalities are quasi compatible but nothing really to write home about i think andy wants someone a little more chill and grounded than what paige has to offer and i think paige wants someone a little more of like the fun sexy adventurous type more than the stable romantic type andy is

send me a ship!

[random-mha-thoughts]

Long Distance (Midoriya x Reader)

Pairing: Midoriya x Reader

Genre: Fluff/slight angst, no quirks AU

Summary: Long distance relationships an be equal parts exhilarating and equal parts difficult.

Inspo: "Face to Face" by Ruel

Word count: 1,777

Tags:  @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog  @bunnythepipsqueak @yuki-osaki

a/n: Who’s not a sucker for fluffy Izu?  Come on, you love this freckled face

Since this is 3rd person and I wanted to keep it gender neutral, I used they/them pronouns instead of you.  The ending scene of this was originally supposed to be Midoriya's Valentine's Special for Just One Day, and it would've been more fitting, but it was too angsty for what I wanted to put out for Valentine's Day, but I held onto it for the past month so I could expand on it and spin it into something more substantial and emotional.

Sorry for the messy and rushed ending, I'm still recovering from my sickness that was handicapping me for the past few days and I'm falling asleep writing the end of this.  But I'm better for the most part!  Which hopefully means one or two more posts before I have to reconfigure my entire schedule doing online classes next week...  I hate school.

Also huge thank you again for 700 follower guys, you’re too much for me to handle.  Thank you sosososoooo much!

The past few months for Izuku have been both exhilarating and miserable.

While at an anime convention last summer, he'd stumbled around alone because Katsuki didn't want to be anywhere near nerd culture with his nerd friend.  Izuku had been disappointed since it was his first con and didn't want to go alone, but it couldn't be helped.  He cosplayed as his favorite hero from his favorite show, resolving to hopefully meet some new friends while he was there.

Izuku was easily overwhelmed by the gigantic venue and the endless number of people in attendance.  It was something like a dream, but at the same time gave him anxiety.  How was he supposed to navigate something this enormous alone without getting swept up somewhere?

For the first half of the first day, he managed to survey the layout of the center, taking pictures with a few cosplayers he knew and almost emptying his wallet on some merch.  He found himself losing energy fairly quickly and resolved to search for the rest area.  The tired boy buries his nose in his map, mumbling how he hopes he doesn't end up getting lost.

His view being obstructed by the unfolded paper, he bumps into someone's back.  Izuku fervently apologizes, prematurely thinking he had bothered them and now they wish to kill him.  Instead, he was met with a wide toothy smile and even wider, excited eyes.  The boy looks them up and down, realizing their cosplay is of his character's sidekick.

The other person breaks out into a haughty dialogue fitting their character, using the hero's name to ask what was the matter.  Izuku, after some stumbling, breaks out his amazing mimicry skills to play along with their new game, responding that he's looking for the rest area.  Staying in character, the sidekick leads him in the opposite direction Izuku was going.  The two recite more lines from their characters' show until they reach their destination.

The stranger finally breaks character with a hearty laugh, settling in a couch with Izuku.  They hit it off immediately, bonding over their shared love of their favorite show, how amazing each other's costume looks, and repeating their favorite lines of other franchises they enjoy.  Izuku feels like this is exactly what he wanted to find in a con: someone who shares the same love and passion for his favorite thing.  Finally, he won't have to be alone navigating this giant complex.

The two continue bonding over lunch, getting to know each other more personally, though their personalities were so compatible their conversations flow naturally.  Izuku finds out that his new friend is around the same age as him, and this isn't their first con.  They ended up coming alone because their friend bailed on them at the last second because of a sickness.  Unfortunately, they live in a different country; they just couldn't miss the panel with one of their favorite voice actors at this con.  The freckled boy can't say he wasn't disappointed that someone he'd hit it off so perfectly with was from somewhere else, but at least he found someone he can spend the rest of the con with.

And they did have the funnest time together.  They shared so many memories eating, posing for pictures, filming their own videos, and just talking; at the end of everything, Izuku felt like he'd known them forever.  Actually, he felt himself falling for his con companion, which is why parting ways on the last day was the hardest thing he thought he would have to do.

Thankfully, his new friend also found it hard to say goodbye, so they proposed the idea of staying long-distance friends.  It was such an obvious progression that Izuku almost slapped himself for not thinking of it.  The two exchanged messenger information and hugs before finally parting ways.  The freckled-cheek boy rejoiced, bouncing the entire way home and buzzing with excitement.  Until post-con depression hit him, and with it came the fear that his new friend and crush would lose interest and never contact him.

But he was wrong.  They texted religiously all day every day, keeping each other updated on all the details of their daily nerdy lives.  A flicker of hope burned inside Izuku that his crush was interested enough in him to keep in contact.  They both kept up with each other's social media posts and commented on all of them.  They even video chatted at least twice a week.  It made Izuku feel his life had a purpose, and it was apparent to everyone around him.  Even Katsuki would gruffly question why he was always smiling at his phone.

But the initial glamour eventually wore off.  There would be days when Izuku's friend wouldn't respond to his messages and the boy would fly into a frenzy, wondering what he did wrong and retracing their entire conversation.  Even though they would reply again a few days later and apologize about leaving Izuku in the dark, it would bother the boy a little.  It sobered him up to realize he spends a lot of his day talking to a screen, and he still has no idea if they feel the same way as he felt in his heart.  There's a small amount of jealousy he feels as he stalks their social media responding to other people.  He dislikes that pettiness, but he only does it because he's head over heels for them.  There are moments when his heart would race at the prospect of them exhibiting the same feelings as him, but he would immediately second guess those thoughts as him simply getting ahead of himself.

Izuku would scroll through the pictures and cosplay videos of them daily, smiling at them as he imagined what if they would meet face to face again as his heart longs for them.  He wants to be able to confess in person, feel their warmth close to him, hear their laughter free of digital filter.  Is that too much for him to ask?

.

Izuku practically bounces in a bundle of anticipation and nerves as he stands in the crowded airport terminal.  He didn't imagine his wishes coming true so soon, but here he is.  Ever since a week ago when his crush had surprised him with their flight itinerary, casually asking him to pick them up, the broccoli-haired boy couldn't have been more excited for anything in his life.  

And as with everything the sometimes-neurotic boy does, he planned heavily for their arrival.  They were only visiting for about a week while visiting family, coinciding nicely with Izuku's school break.  He searched for countless highly-rated restaurants specializing in different foods, photo spots that tourists agree yield the best social media photos, and even a few theme parks to visit.  He complied all of these spots into a giant list and was about to send them to his crush when they messaged him before he got the chance.

"Don't go overboard planning like I know you do, Bean, I just want to spend quality time with you :)"

Izuku's heart soared with that text, although it rendered his hard work and stress slightly useless.

And now he's waiting impatiently for them to come from their plane ride, craning his neck every which way in hopes to spot them before they find him.  His entire body has washed over in anxious, feet-tapping cold.

"Izuku!"

Looking to the side, he sets his eyes on a figure steamrolling towards him dragging a suitcase as they bound up to him.  All his anxiety fades as soon as he lays eyes on them.  He outstretches his arms, ready to welcome them in a hug.  "(Y/n)!" he mimics their excited giggle-call.

Izuku underestimated how much force they were putting into their hug, effectively being knocked off balance as both of them fall backwards to meet the floor beneath them.  Despite the strange glares from onlookers, they laugh at the less-than-graceful greeting they shared.  To Izuku, it was the perfect heartfelt greeting.

Catching his breath for a moment, his heart rejoices, relishing the almost romantic moment.  It's strange to see them, the person he's seem through a screen for most of the time, in his arms.  The last time they saw each other in person, they were in slightly uncomfortable costumes that didn't allow for too much mobility and hid most of their true faces.  It's almost like meeting a complete stranger in person for the first time, yet they know each other so well.

"I'm so happy you're this excited to see me."  He sits up, still embracing his crush in his lap.  He's so close to them, sharing their personal space.  If only he can brush his hands through their hair lovingly and embrace them close to him as he's craved for months.  "I was so worried it would be too awkward, and you wouldn't want to hug me and-"

"Why wouldn't I want to absolutely tackle you, Bean?" they squeeze him tighter, the grin still plastered on their face as they gaze up at Izuku.  They reach behind the boy to retrieve the red beanie that fell off his head at their landing.  "You're my favorite person in the world!"

Izuku freezes at the words, letting them tug the knitwear over his fluffy hair.  He knows yet another part of his heart was just stolen.

"Oh, before all the adrenaline suddenly flushes out of me and I lose all confidence to do this-"

They place a chaste kiss on Izuku's lips, rendering the boy flustered and speechless as a bolt of electricity zaps through him.  Did they really just-?

"I really like you, Izuku," they confess in earnest, doe eyes boring into his emerald pair.  "I've been waiting to say it in person because it's so lame and impersonal to say it over text or in video chat.  Please tell me you accept me."

It takes the boy a moment to formulate proper words, the only thing pouring out of his mouth is sputters.  He's floating on Cloud nine right now.  He should've known that his crush not only holds the same feelings for him, but also has the immense confidence to suck it up and confess first.  With a chuckle and almost teary eyes, Izuku sniffs out, "Y-You beat me to it!"

They erupt into a fit of satisfied squeaks.  "I knew I would!" they beam as they nearly knock the boy over in another tackle-hug.  "Now, at least we get to do everything we wanted to as a couple, not just as friends."

Izuku can't agree more, admiring how they always manage to take the words right out of his mouth.

[getalittleclosey]

under 100k larry fic recs

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 50k

100k+

☆ somethin’ bout you by missandrogyny 60k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

☆ tug-of-war by cherrystreet 63k

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

☆ cameras flashing by juliusschmidt 82k

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

☆ home to you by crowsonthewire 54k

“If someone wrote that for me I’d probably be a crying mess before it was even over. I’m crying a little right now actually.”

It’s about you, Harry’s brain screamed. I wrote it about you.

Gemma appeared in the doorway then and dragged Louis away. With one winking smile he was gone. Harry curled up and stuffed his face into his duvet so he could cry with no one hearing.

**** At fifteen, Harry wrote his first song for an oblivious seventeen year old Louis Tomlinson. Ten years later he’s a singer/songwriter who cant find any words for his second album and Louis is a closeted actor tired of LA.

They both try to run from the things weighing them down and in the process, they find each other.

☆ fate don’t know you by sincewewereeighteen 99k

“Just. How bad is it?”

Zayn sighs. Shit.

“Not that bad, really,” he says quickly as he scans Louis’ face. “It depends, really. The freshmen are all right and I think you’ll manage just fine with the sophomores.”

“But?”

“Seniors are always shit because they think they rule the school, and this specific class of juniors… Well, let’s say you’ll find a real troublemaker there. Some say he used to be a soft kid, but- I don’t know. Most teachers just leave him alone.” Zayn shrugs. “He walks around with a tough crowd. Guess no one wants to take their chances with him. This is Chicago after all.”

“D’you know the name of the kid?” Louis asks, already very curious to meet said person.

“His name is Harry Styles.” The other man responds. “You’re in for a treat with this one.”

[Or: The one in which Louis always hears thunder when Harry speaks and sees lightning when he glances at him.]

note: this is student/teacher so if that makes you uncomfortable please skip! harry’s 17 but he is still a student so power unbalance and all that but from what i remember it was tastefully done. just like....don’t do that irl obv jfkdaj

☆ like an endless summer by objectlesson 87k

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 6k of pwp

☆ back to how it was by lululawrence 53k

Harry carefully stood up and was on his way to the window to look outside when he ran his hand through his hair, and it stopped entirely too soon.

He froze then began fervently patting all over his head. Where was his hair? He’d been growing it out for a couple of years now and it was finally almost to the length he’d had as a goal the entire time. How could it have gotten cut off overnight?

Harry rushed over to the mirror hung on the wall adjacent to the window.

Oh shit. What the hell was happening? Harry leaned closer and saw that not only was his hair cropped shorter than he’d ever wanted to go again, but it looked like he had the beginning of crow’s feet by his eyes. Those definitely weren’t there yesterday! And what happened to his tattoos? He still had some of them, like the star and the letters he’d gotten for his mum and Gemma, but most of the rest were missing and there were a few he’d never seen before instead.

What. The. Fuck.

Or the one where Harry goes to bed angry with his bandmates and wakes up in a universe where One Direction was never formed and he has to find a way back home. Home definitely has nothing to do with his best friend and bandmate, Louis. That would be ridiculous.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 24k!

☆ when we were younger by dinosaursmate 76k

About a week after Harry started visiting this particular chat room, he was watching some kid argue with the whole room about football, personally disinterested as he tipped a bag of crisps into his mouth. He happily chomped on the crumbs, taking a swig from a glass of Ribena to wash them down, glancing at the screen and very nearly spat the squash back out again. His heart was pounding wildly. The display icon of the argumentative newcomer had caught his eye, and not in a good way. He gulped as he clicked the picture, and when it popped up in full resolution, his heart nearly fell right out of his arse. - Sixteen year old Harry Styles’ world turns upside down when he logs on to gay teen chat to discover somebody has stolen his photos and used them as their own.

note: there’s a second part that’s 3k ziam centric

extra note: you don’t want to know how many episodes of catfish i’ve seen

☆ like cabbages and kings by you_explode 61k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

☆ knives don’t have your back by turnyourankle 51k

The lone survivor of an on campus massacre that claimed the lives of his four housemates, Harry is urged to take a sabbatical or transfer. Instead, he chooses to stay in school, move into the dorms, and overcome his fears.

He finds comfort in a budding friendship with Louis, an upperclassman who lives on his floor, not realizing that their relationship will bring him closer to his traumatizing past rather than further from it.

☆ loving you is free by littlelouishiccups 68k

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn't been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

note: there are two other parts to this that are pretty much pwp. they’re 24k and 4k

☆  dance to the distortion by lis (domesticharry) 93k

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

☆ waiting on you by emma1234 77k

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

note: there’s a second part to this that’s 5k

☆ this wicked game by cherrystreet 70k

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

note: i’ve seen maybe five episodes of the bachelor in my life and hated it but i have read every larry bachelor fic 

☆ coax the cold by mediawhore 86k

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

☆ this feeling by orphan_account 59k

"Gonna play it back for you now." Louis clicked play and the song flooded through Harry’s headphones.

The sound of each others voices united into one, and the rhythm of the music carried their voices effortlessly. Harry’s insides tingled and a wave of shivers rolled down his spine.

Before the clip cut off, Harry turned to raise an eyebrow at Louis, and failed miserably at disguising his smile. Louis stared back at him in shock.

Or A Larry Duet AU

☆ love’s on the line, is that your final answer? by pearlydewdrops 53k

Harry can’t believe it when Louis, the boy he’s always had a tempestuous rivalry with, asks him to be his boyfriend. Well, pose as his boyfriend, that is—for a new television game show in which young couples are quizzed on how well they know each other for a jackpot of thirty grand.

Reluctantly, Harry agrees—because he's got student loans to pay off, hasn't he? What's the harm? And he can totally deal with keeping his secret thing for Louis under wraps too. This is all just to win some money. It's fine. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, everything. Obviously.

☆ say your prayers by nothing_but 59k

Louis was left wondering what the fuck this encounter had been. Coming to this camp - especially after learning that it was a religious one - he had never expected to find himself in a bathroom with the attractive, strictly Catholic, not-gay-or-anything head counsellor making flirty remarks. Quite the opposite, to be honest.

Or the one where Harry, head counsellor at a Catholic summer camp, dedicates his time to what he loves most, year after year. It’s mostly the same every summer; the place, the topics, the games. This year, however, there’s a new assistant counsellor stumbling into his camp, and possibly his heart.

☆ i’ll crash until you notice me by stylinsoncity 61k

Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he's been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn't expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.

Cue the summer loving.

note: zendaya is listed as a character in this which desperately makes me want to reread it because i don’t remember that!!!

☆ nothing but you on my mind by nonsensedarling 84k

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

☆ ghost note symphony by whoknows 96k

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

☆ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by nonsense_darling 52k

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.   

☆ here in the afterglow by fondleeds 89k

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

-

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

note: i can’t believe i waited until 2020 to read this...it was life changing tbh and i cried

☆ just call me inspiration by hereforlou 52k

The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world.

(Or, the one where Louis is a writer, Harry is an art student, and they inspire each other in very different ways.)

☆ truly, madly, deeply (10 things i hate about you) by sunsetmog 54k

The first Louis had heard of Harry auditioning for X Factor was the night he'd turned up on Louis' doorstep the day before leaving for Boot Camp, with a DVD and an illicit bottle of vodka.

Thing was, Louis hated secrets, and he really hated being made a fool of, and he really, really hated Harry Styles.

or: the one in which they're all in sixth form together, and Harry auditions for X Factor without them.

note: this has always been a fav

☆ the impossible now by stylinsoncity 65k

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

☆ swallow the knife by whoknows 76k

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

note: i don’t even normally like non-aus but i have read this fic five times in the last nine months so. there’s that. 

extra note: there’s an 11k alternate sex scene here

☆ perfect storm by cherrystreet 80k

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

☆ anyplace, anyhow, anytime by aimmyarrowshigh, colazitron 81k

Harry's going to audition for The X-Factor in a few days, he really can't use this persistent tickle in his throat. What's even worse is when the tickle turns into a full blown cough, and the cough makes him pass out only for Harry to wake up in a different world. And then another one, and another one, and another one. The only other person who seems to be as affected as he is, is a boy with blue eyes who keeps showing up in every single one of these worlds.

note: i reread all of aimmyarrowhigh’s larry fics this year including the 500k or whatever sheylinson verse and i thought about putting them all in here but like...felt excessive & i figured i’d give attention to a less well known one, plus this way we get colazitron too! 

☆ the second hand unwinds by kingsofeverything (fullonlarry) 52k

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

☆ waiting for the tides to meet by nauticalleeds (metamorphosis) 60k

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

☆ keep my candle bright by whisperdlullaby 79k

louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

☆ strawberries & cigarettes by dimpled_halo 77k

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

*

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

[belphegor1982]

For the prompts challenge, Rick and Jonathan for #33 (Expectations) and/or #51 (Sport)

I almost went with the second one because I could picture them chatting during one of Alex’s cricket matches, but then I realised I’d have to actually understand cricket (and/or baseball) rules, so... There you go :D

Unexpected

(read on AO3 if you prefer!)

“‘Expect the unexpected’? What sort of a motto is that?”

“You gotta admit, it’s worked for me so far, right?”

“But you can’t expect the unexpected, that’s why it’s unexpected in the first place – oh for God’s sake, are they still shooting?”

There were worst places to be, Jonathan supposed, than hunkering down at the bottom of a narrow L-shaped passageway cut into a hillside while determined people were shooting at you. Right now, though, he couldn’t think of a single one. The only redeeming feature was the company.

“What else do you want them to do, a méchoui?”

Jonathan put aside the creeping panic for thirty seconds to prod his somewhat rusty Arabic back to life.

“A… roast?”

It was almost impossible to be sure in the darkness, but Jonathan thought Rick turned to him and grinned.

“You guys didn’t have that in Egypt? Must be Moroccan, then. I had one in Rabat once. It’s sheep cooked on a spit, with the whole family and neighbours invited. Kind of a big deal.”

“Sorry, old boy, doesn’t ring a bell. Sounds nice, though.”

Rick ducked out of their shelter for a second to shoot once, then twice into their assailants to make them keep their distance. Jonathan, whose only gun had run out of bullets about an hour ago, flattened himself against the wall to give him room. They’d been playing that little game for something like an hour now.

Why don’t you go with Rick, Evy had said, reconnoitre perhaps, and he knew his sister enough to translate it as “I really need to work on this for a while with no distractions.” Well, that was fine by him, really, as he was quite happy to let her be the Egyptologist while he got to play tourist. So he tagged along with his brother-in-law, chatting amiably, until Rick – who took his unofficial role as ‘head of security’ seriously – had decided to go investigate the next wadi and they had come face to face with a band of marauders. Since that very band had been known for picking off diggers when archaeological operations were conducted in places they didn’t like, nobody had been very civil, shots had been fired, and measures had had to be taken – viz, running like hell into the first hole in the ground Jonathan and Rick could find, hoping it led somewhere safe, or failing that, was a decent enough shelter. Too bad they couldn’t find a tunnel high enough to actually stand in.

Maybe there was something to be said for “being prepared”, as Rick had once put it. It certainly helped that the American had been carrying two pistols and quite a few clips. At least it made the raiders think twice before storming their passageway.

God, he needed a drink. Too bad his hip flask probably lay somewhere between there and Nefertari’s tomb…

“Maybe we could have something like that when the dig’s done,” said Rick as though he had not just dodged a storm of bullets so bad it had widened the bend in the passageway.

This was a really shoddy wall, Jonathan decided with the small part of himself that was not either terrified or making ironic comments from the back seat. Bullets were supposed to flatten themselves on earth and rocks, he’d seen it happen, but this wall just let itself be shredded without putting much of a fight. Frightfully bad form.

Jonathan forced himself to take a steady breath and asked, somewhat distractedly, “Something like what? I lost the thread, I’m afraid.”

“A méchoui. Something to celebrate the end of the dig and whatever discoveries Evy will have made. What do you think?”

A sarcastic retort rose in Jonathan’s mind, but he bit down on it. Behind the unnatural calm of the seasoned soldier he could hear Rick struggling to breathe evenly, just like he was.

Well. Much as he hated to admit it, Rick’s stubborn American optimism was a comfort, in its way. Maybe Jonathan could return the favour and offer a bit of English stiff upper-lip, even if he knew he was rubbish at it.

“I think it’s a jolly good idea,” he said, fighting to keep the irony to a minimum. “Give us all something to look forward to…”

His voice trailed off and he grabbed Rick’s arm in the dark.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?” came Rick’s sharp whisper.

“Shh – listen.”

What greeted their ears was silence – unexpected, complete silence.

Then it was pandemonium. Gunfire, shouts, screams, bullets ricocheting everywhere, a tumult that sent Jonathan and Rick huddling at the end of their tunnel, desperately trying to make the smallest targets possible.

It took them a while to realise silence had fallen again, until the last sound they could possibly expect finally reached them.

“Rick? Jonathan? Are you in there?”

Jonathan blinked earth from eyes he didn’t remember closing. The flickering light of a nearby torch was a stab in the brain after getting used to the darkness, but at least it allowed him to see Rick’s jaw dropping.

“Evy!?”

And then she was there, kneeling in front of them, one hand holding the torch and the other running over Rick’s face and Jonathan’s shoulders as if to make sure they really were there.

“Oh thank God,” she said fervently. “When Tariq said he’d heard shots I immediately thought of those raiders from the other day, so I rallied Saleh and Ibrahim and any of the diggers who had experience in handling guns, but I was so afraid we’d be too late…”

As usual, when she was rattled, she was unstoppable. Words tumbled out of her, pronunciation crisp and clipped but without much punctuation. It took Rick taking her hand and rubbing her forearm to get her to slow down and breathe.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, we’re okay. You got there just in time.”

“With the cavalry in tow, no less,” added Jonathan with a somewhat shaky smile. “Since we’re all intact, against all odds, why don’t we continue this elsewhere? Preferably outside.”

He rose, miscalculated the height of the tunnel, and banged his head against a surprisingly hard and smooth surface.

“Ow! Of all the bloody—”

“Jonathan!” Evy exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

Jonathan rubbed his scalp, wondering if the spots dancing in front of his eyes came from the torch or the impact.

“Yes, but as I was saying, since nobody’s shooting at us anymore I would really like to get the hell out of –”

“Wait a minute,” said Rick slowly. “Is that a wall?”

Jonathan blinked, confused.

“You mean the ceiling?”

“No,” breathed Evy, her eyes shining in the firelight. “This is stone – this was built. I think we might be standing under something, so to speak. Here, hold this.”

She handed her torch to Rick, took out a hard brush from one of her pockets, and began to clear away the dirt.

“It’s a staircase, leading into the hill! The tomb must be a much larger complex than I thought if… Oh, if I could just find an entrance –”

“Evy,” said Rick, “I’m gonna dispatch Mahmud to Luxor so the authorities can deal with the remaining raiders, and then I’m gonna send Tariq and his team to give you a hand here. Be careful in the meantime. Okay?”

“Mh-hm. I mean yes, you do that, thank you. They’ll need to prop up here and widen there –”

She was in full archaeologist mode, talking to herself as she worked, and Jonathan (who, knowing his sister like he did, was familiar with that mode and its derivatives, namely ‘scholar mode’, ‘librarian mode’, and ‘Egyptologist mode’) knew they had temporarily lost her to her passion.

“See what I meant about expectations?” asked Rick as they made their way towards the opening of the tunnel, following light that grew brighter and brighter. Jonathan gingerly shook dirt out of his hair, mindful of the lump on the top of his skull.

“No, not really. What about expectations?”

This time there was well enough light to see Rick’s four-hundred-teeth grin.

“Well,” he said, “that’s the thing about expecting the unexpected – you’re never disappointed.”

Jonathan shot him a deadpan look. Then he gave in to the smile he could feel pulling at his lips. Maybe there was something to that philosophy, after all.

“I’m going to hold you to that méchoui idea, you know,” he remarked once they finally stood in blessed, blinding sunshine, squinting like a couple of moles.

Rick laughed.

______________________

I love the brothers-in-law. Seriously. Wish there were more fics (and better written than mine) that feature the two of them bantering and being ridiculous and united in their love of Evy ♥

Incidentally, I’ve been to a méchoui or two when I was a kid – probably organised by a friend of my mum’s – and I have fond memories of it. To my young eyes it looked very impressive, that big fire against the night, people talking and laughing as we all ate.

[kutemouse]

Hey! Can you do crisis talk with yoongi? Like, their conversation getting less and less and yoongi realized it and change. I hope you can understand, love you! Fluff angsty?

Disclaimers: The above gif was made and edited by me, kutemouse. That is why I’ve posted this under the tag #btsgif. Feel free to use this gif however you want, just please give me credit for the edit. The gif and the title of this drabble are from the mv and song, “I Need U” by BTS.

Hi kutie! I understood perfectly (I hope), thank you for your request! I love the way you put it as a “crisis talk!” 😂 Believe me, any hard conversation with Yoongi would definitely be a crisis in my book. I love writing angst for Yoongi as well, it just comes so naturally with him as I imagine him to be a brooding, hard-working somewhat-introvert who only lets loose around people he really knows and loves. Anyway, hope you like! 💜

Age Recommendation: 16+

Warnings: Angsty angst, swears, Yuqi from (G)I-DLE magically appears, Yoongi being an asshole, crying, some yelling.

Word Count: 1,550

“Because of you, I’m becoming ruined.

I don’t wanna stop, I don’t want you anymore.

I can’t do this, this sucks.

…

I’m sorry (I hate you)

I love you (I hate you)

Forgive me.”

~ “I Need U” by BTS

Translation I used can be found here.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I Need U Girl (Yoongi Drabble~Angst, Fluff)

Yoongi stood as still as a statue, hands shoved in his pockets. If he even breathed, he was afraid you’d hear him, whip open the door, and scold him for even daring to be there. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but he understood why it was what it was. He pushed you away, after all. It all started that fateful night when he was trying to work and you were being your usual goofy self.

“Yoongi, oh my god, look at this meme,” you giggled, placing your phone in front of his face.

Yoongi paused what he was doing for a few seconds to read it, then gave out a half-hearted laugh. “Wow, that’s… that’s funny.”

A couple minutes later, you were watching a Youtube video and you laughed out loud, the sound reverberating off the walls into his head. That was when the frustration started to well up. You knew he was working, couldn’t you be quieter?

It was when you started humming as you scrolled through your phone that he completely lost it. “Y/n!” he barked, causing you to jump. “Can you please stop?”

“Sorry,” you muttered.

But that wasn’t enough to quell the destructive flame of Yoongi’s rage. He had a bad day today. BigHit’s producers rejected his latest submission for a new album track, telling him it was too raw, too rough, and he needed to majorly clean it up before submitting it again.

And if that wasn’t enough, practice between the BTS members also went badly. It was like they were totally out of sync. After two full hours of nothing but trying and failing to learn the new choreography, Hobi threw his hands up and said there was no point. They’d just have to come back tomorrow and hope it went better.

On top of all that, Yoongi went to a cafe to pick up a coffee, thinking it would cheer him up, and some asshole bumped into him, causing his drink to spill everywhere. When he came home, you cooed over him and did your best to clean him up and make him feel better, but unfortunately, everything you did had the exact opposite effect. Yoongi felt smothered by your antics, and when he sat down to work, the apartment seemed too small for the both of you.

Long story short, life was shit, everything had gone to shit, everything was shit, and now, Yoongi was sick of your shit. “Y/n, you know I’m trying to work!” he growled.

You held up your hands. “I said I was sorry.”

“That’s not good enough! Look, you need to leave. I need some space, I need to finish this, so please, just… just leave.”

You stared at him, open-mouthed. Was he serious? You and Yoongi had been dating for a year now, and you knew there were going to be some bumps in the road when you moved in together a month ago, but you never expected this.

“Fine,” you said, getting up. “I’ll leave.” You pulled on some pants, grabbed a jacket and purse, and went out the door. Yoongi huffed and tried to get back to work, but his attention was all over the place now. After another unsuccessful hour, he gave up and started to get ready for bed.

You still hadn’t come home when he crawled under the covers, so he shot you a text.

Yoongles ❤️ (11:34pm): Hey, I’m sorry. You can come home now.

You didn’t respond, and Yoongi ended up falling asleep. The next morning, he found you asleep on the couch, still fully clothed, your body curled up around yourself the way you used to curl up against him.

Ever since that night, you slowly began to pull away from Yoongi, but the sad part was, he didn’t even realize it ‘til yesterday. He knew you were more distant than usual, but he shrugged it off as a side-effect of the fight, thinking you’d get over it. He hadn’t noticed how your laughter didn’t come as often, or how your hugs and kisses were getting more and more brief. He didn’t heed the warning signs, like how you didn’t make love anymore, or how you seemed to be spending more time with friends than with him.

Yesterday, though, he looked around and realized he hadn’t seen you in almost a week. You had texted him each night, letting him know you were sleeping over at your best friend’s house, so he knew where you were, but that didn’t comfort him any. In fact, it served to drive home just how much he fucking missed you. Missed your scent, missed your laugh, missed the way you included him in everything you did. He even missed the way your hair stuck up in every direction in the morning and how husky your voice sounded when you just woke up. He missed the way you’d stand there in nothing but one of his t-shirts, cooking breakfast as he tried not to stare. He missed everything about you, and he wanted it back no matter how badly he screwed up.

Which left him here, standing at the front door of your best friend’s house, wondering how in the hell he could make this right. Yoongi gathered his courage, raised his fist, and knocked.

He heard shrieks of laughter, one of which was unmistakable yours, when Yuqi threw open the door. “Food is–”

She stopped short when she saw Yoongi standing there instead of a delivery person. Yuqi put her hands on her hips, tossing him a ferocious glare. Uh-oh. If Yuqi was mad, it meant you had told her your boyfriend was being a jackass. “Is Y/n here?” Yoongi said, trying not to let her death-glare bother him.

“She is.”

“Can I see her?”

“That depends.”

“Yuqi,” your voice said, appearing from behind her. “I’ve got this.”

“Fine. I’ll just be down the street picking up a coffee.”

She grabbed her purse and left, pushing past Yoongi roughly. He gave her back an incredulous look before turning to you. “Hi,” he said timidly.

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

You nodded and stepped back to let him in. Yoongi twisted his hands around each other, trying to think of how to begin as you both settled onto Yuqi’s couch. “How have you been?” he asked.

“Fine.”

If Yoongi had asked that question at any other time, you would’ve answered with a full paragraph, gesturing and all. The way you only gave him that single syllable let him know you were hurt, and he hung his head as he realized he was the reason for that hurt.

“Are you gonna come back home today?” he mumbled.

You crossed your arms. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you want me back home.”

“Of course I want you back home.”

“Do you? Did you even notice I was gone?”

“Of course I fucking noticed!”

You winced and Yoongi instantly regretted his sharp tone. “Sweetheart, please. I know I’ve been a total ass, and there’s no excuse in the world I can give for that. Despite what’s going on at work or in other areas of my life, I should always treat you with kindness and respect.”

You let out a choked sob, and Yoongi looked up to see your eyes filled with tears. “I did it for you, you know,” you croaked. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore, so I decided to put some distance in between us. I thought maybe if I did that, the break-up would be less painful.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide as he realized just how extensive the damage he’d done was. He was afraid you’d push him away, but at this point, he didn’t care. He came and sat next to you, wrapping you in his arms which, of course, only made you cry harder. “Shhhh,” he murmured soothingly, rubbing circles on your back. “Sweetheart, please. Don’t cry. I don’t want to break up with you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you sniffled.

You drew apart and Yoongi smiled as he looked into your beautiful, watery eyes. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”

You coughed out a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Let’s get your stuff and get you home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You spent the next few minutes texting Yuqi, letting her know you worked things out and were heading back home, and gathering your things. As you were looking for a shirt you misplaced, Yoongi suddenly grabbed you and spun you around, causing you to shriek.

He pressed his lips to yours, claiming your mouth in a way only he could. “I couldn’t wait another second,” he murmured as he drew back.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I never want you to wait to kiss me again.”

“I never will.”

He kissed you again, fervently, passionately, and you groaned as he brushed his tongue along your bottom lip. “Maybe when we get home, I can continue making this up to you,” Yoongi said breathlessly, cocking an eyebrow.

You smirked. “Maybe.”

Shortly after that, you both left, fingers intertwined the same way your souls were intertwined. Every day after that, Yoongi never failed to let you know how much he loved you and wanted you in his life.

[searchingwardrobes]

If you’re looking for something to read during your self-quarantine, you can get my book What Hindered Love on Amazon right now! If you’ve already read it, here’s another story from Micah’s point of view. This time, this is his version of the night Chloe showed up at his apartment drunk.

Rating: M

Trigger warnings: mentions of losing virginity and teen pregnancy

***Also SPOILERS for What Hindered Love***

Words: 3,000 +

Summary: Chloe said it was what she wanted, but then again, she was only 19. And five years later, Micah is plagued with guilt over taking her virginity. Especially considering where it all led. Now that they're friends, he thinks it's best to talk about it. When Chloe shows up at his apartment drunk, he thinks maybe that wasn't the best idea he's ever had.

You can find other extra content for What Hindered Love on my blog: melanietillman.com

Tagging: @teamhook​ @xhookswenchx​ @snowbellewells​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @thislassishooked​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @kday426​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @superchocovian​ @nikkiemms​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @optomisticgirl​ @kmomof4​  (I tagged some of you this time around just because I figured you would signal boost for me! Let me know if you want to be tagged regularly for WHL content.)

Micah’s senses are overwhelmed. The smell of Chloe’s soft hair, her breaths puffing hot against his shoulder, her fingers grasping his biceps. He pulls back to look in her face, to look deeply into her sparkling amber eyes, to tell her of the depth of his feelings.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He shakes his head even as he smiles. This isn’t how it went. She didn’t say that. She looked away, so shy all of a sudden, and I had to gently turn her face back to me. I was worried I had hurt her; I was worried she regretted it.

“I loved you, Micah,” she pauses, her face falling, and then her eyes go dull. “But you didn’t love me.”

“What?” Micah protests as she pushes him off her and sits up, hugging the sheet up to her chin. “Yes, I did. Of course I did. I mean, I do.”

Chloe shakes her head, “Obviously not enough. Or you wouldn’t have taken everything from me.”

“Chloe, I’m so sorry . . . “ he doesn’t know what else to say as he reaches for her. “You said this was what you wanted.”

The more he reaches for her, the farther away she seems. Chloe inclines her head, gesturing towards the pink dress lying rumpled on the floor. “You bought me that dress, brought me here, cooked me an expensive dinner. I know what you expected.”

“No, Chloe,” he insists, shaking his head, “I expected nothing.”

Micah reaches for her again, but now Chloe is not just being pulled away from him, she is being pulled under. The sheets entangle her limbs, and she calls for him as panic sparks in her eyes. She fights against the linens, but they just wrap around her, choking her. Micah reaches for her, but his fingertips merely brush hers. Then she’s gone, and he’s left ripping the sheets from the bed in a panic, shouting her name.

Micah heaves forward, sweat beading his brow, gasping for breath. As his breaths slow down, the realization that it was only a dream settles around him. The only limbs tangled in the sheets are his own. He groans as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He cups his face in his hands as he remembers Chloe’s lifeless voice in the dream, speaking so matter-of-factly about all that he took from her. And it’s true. She came to Lightport for an education, to make a better future for herself. And almost immediately, she had met him.

The panicked look in Chloe’s eyes as she was pulled away from his grasp haunts his thoughts, and he runs his hands through his hair. The dream was so disturbing, his hair is still wet with sweat. He glances in the corner, but of course, Chloe’s dress isn’t really there. He remembers her words that night, I want you to be my first, but does that excuse him? Had Chloe felt she owed him? Had he pressured her? And even if he hadn’t, they had only been together such a short time. If Micah had really loved her, he would have slowed things down.

He groans again, falling backwards onto the mattress. He hated himself back then, but whenever he was with Chloe, it was different. He felt stronger, better, more honorable. He thought he could conquer his demons for her. He should have known only God could accomplish the changes he needed within himself. But he had been too stubborn, still running from anything that resembled faith. He had been running straight towards destruction and had simply hauled Chloe Wren right along with him.

He had these types of dreams every year around this time. Some, like the one tonight, were nightmares. Others were more like vivid memories; the feel of her bare back soft beneath his fingers, the way her hair fanned out on the pillow, the taste of her . . . Micah jumps from the bed as the past assaults him. Time for another cold shower.

Micah rubs his temple wearily as he adjusts the knobs in the shower. He steps beneath the cold stream until his pulse eases back to a normal rhythm, then slowly adjusts the dials until warm water runs down and across his shoulder blades. He lowers his head and squeezes his eyes shut as the steamy warmth streams through his hair. He remembers how hesitant Chloe had been that first night, how unsure. He had tried to be as gentle and patient as possible, but maybe that wasn’t enough. How does Chloe remember that night? Does it assault her memory with images of passion and love, as it does for him? Or is it her greatest regret?

Micah reaches for the faucet with his eyes still closed and then leans his forehead against the cool tile. Chloe had been too embarrassed to go by the college clinic and ask for free birth control pills, so Micah had taken care of protection. He had failed her then too, so overcome by her declaration of love that he hadn’t thought. . .

Micah grabs the towel off the rack on the wall by the shower. He scrubs it roughly over his wet hair. Chloe had only known him a grand total of – what? two and a half months? – and he had gotten her pregnant. He had taken her future and shattered it.

Micah’s bare feet slap on the hardwood floors as he makes his way back to his room. The clock reads 2:43 am. He throws on a pair of boxers and crawls back under the covers, but he still lies there, staring up at the ceiling, one arm flung across his forehead. He doesn’t regret Luke, though. In spite of everything, he wouldn’t go back to a world without that little boy in it. How does he reconcile that with this feeling of regret for turning Chloe’s world upside down?

Of course, they are friends now. Maybe this is something they can get out in the open? Maybe he can apologize? Or maybe that will seem offensive. Not to mention stoke the flames that already rage whenever Chloe is around. His passion for her has never dimmed. But this time he is determined to do things the right way. No rushing headlong into passion like a couple of kids. He has made a vow to himself that he will win her heart, but on her terms this time. He won’t push.

Micah rolls over onto his stomach, bunching the pillow up beneath him. Lord, if I should talk to Chloe about this, give me a sign. I don’t want to upset her or hurt her any more than I already have, but this guilt I feel won’t leave me alone. I’ve asked you to forgive me, and I know you have, but I want to tell Chloe how much I regret hurting her. I feel like You’re giving me a second chance, Lord. Help me go at the right pace this time. I hurt her so badly . . . Micah is still mumbling a prayer for Chloe when sleep claims him.

****************************************************

Micah practically runs from his bedroom, stopping when he reaches the kitchen island. He leans over it, gulping deep breaths. He prays to God Chloe doesn’t come out of that bedroom. He doesn’t know if he can resist her a second time.

Okay, God, you’ve gotta help me out here. When I saw Chloe at the park today, it seemed like a sign. So I talked to her. And I thought it went well, but now?

That’s all the prayer Micah can articulate. He starts pacing, running his fingers agitatedly through his hair. He imagines Chloe. In his bed. At this very moment. The reminder that Luke is in the other room just down the hall is the only thing that keeps him from going back to his bed and the blonde temptress in it.

Oh God, I’m sorry, that’s not fair. I stirred this up; it’s not entirely her fault. But what do I do now? I thought I wasn’t supposed to be tempted beyond what I could bear. Lord, I can’t bear this!

The answer to his plea comes in that still small voice he had learned to hear in rehab. He grabs his phone off the kitchen counter, pulls up his contacts, and starts pacing again as he hits the call button. When the warm, comforting voice answers, a peace settles over him.

“Micah? Is everything okay?”

“Maggie, I’m so sorry to call you this late at night, but it’s Chloe. I mean, she’s okay, it’s just . . . I need you to come get her.”

“Come get her?”

“Yes. She’s drunk, and I don’t want Luke to see her like this.”

“Micah –“

He sighs at the hint of motherly scolding he can hear in her voice. “It’s not what you think, Maggie, I swear. I’ll explain more when you get here.”

She must be able to sense his desperation because she asks no more questions, instead cupping the phone in her hand to have a quick conversation with her husband. “Okay, Micah, sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

Micah continues to pace as he waits for Maggie, praying fervently that Chloe stays put. He can’t deny how badly he wants her, but having sex with her now, when she’s drunk and in emotional turmoil would be wrong on so many levels. And it would completely ruin this tentative friendship that they’ve built over the past few months. Finally, there’s a soft rap at his door, and he practically yanks Maggie inside.

“She’s in my bedroom,” he explains as he gives Maggie a little shove in the right direction.

“Your bedroom?” She asks, eyebrows raised and her arms crossed. She plants herself right where she is, and Micah knows that despite her burgeoning pregnant belly he isn’t moving her.

“Yes,” Micah practically growls in frustration, “but nothing happened.”

“But she’s in your bed?” Maggie narrows her eyes as Micah tilts his head back and tucks his tongue into his cheek. “Well, you said you’d explain when I got here, so explain.”

Micah begins pacing again. At this rate, he’s going to wear a rut in the floor. “Chloe showed up here less than an hour ago. She was drunk. She . . . well, she . . . hugged me, and tried to kiss me . . .”

“She propositioned you,” Maggie supplies as he continues to stumble over his words.

Micah sighs. He hates to paint Chloe in a bad light, especially with the associate pastor’s wife, but Maggie won’t let him get away with lying, either. “Yes.”

“Is that what you gathered from her behavior, or –���

“Oh no, she made it perfectly clear. She flat out asked me to have sex with her. Twice.” Just saying it out loud has his pulse rising. Why is he so weak?

“And therefore you thought it was best to take her to your bed?”

“Damn it, Maggie,” Micah hisses, “I wouldn’t have called you if I was entertaining the idea. She was drunk and could barely stand. I didn’t want Luke to hear her, or even worse, wake up and see her like that. “

Maggie regards him for a long, tense moment. Micah glares back at her and gestures towards the hallway.

“So, for the love of all things holy, can you take her home. Please? Before our son finds her in my bed?”

Maggie nods, but he swears there’s some mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Yes, of course I’ll take her home. But Luke isn’t the only reason you’re so desperate.”

Micah hangs his head, “I’m only human, Maggie. I mean, what did Joseph do when Potiphar’s wife tried to practically drag him to bed? He ran!”

“But Joseph wasn’t in love with Potiphar’s wife.”

Now it’s Micah’s turn to cross his arms. “You’re awfully nosy. Has anyone ever told you that?” Maggie just grins and shrugs one shoulder. Micah drops his arms in defeat. “Okay, so you’ve got me. Happy now? Which is exactly why I can’t do anything stupid. It’s taken long enough to get back in the friend zone.”

Maggie tilts her head quizzically. “If you’re just friends, then why the guilt?”

Micah blushes and nervously rubs the back of his neck. “What happened tonight is partly my fault, too. This afternoon, I brought up some things from our past. I thought it would be good for us, get things out in the open, but . . . obviously all I did was hurt her again.”

Maggie searches Micah’s face for a moment before speaking. “Maybe you should stop apologizing to Chloe about the past and start talking about the future instead.” She gives him a small smile and then heads to the bedroom.

He hears Maggie speak low and gentle to Chloe, and in no time the brunette is helping her down the hall. Micah thinks how beautiful Chloe is, even with her blonde hair knotted and messy in her face. She glances up at him as Maggie leads her out the door, and even bloodshot and glassy, those eyes arrest him and make his heart pound. He always loved gazing into those eyes that were the most fascinating shade of light brown he’d ever seen. He could never decide if they were the color of honey or the last dusky shade of sunset.

Micah shakes himself out of his silly reverie to follow the women out of the apartment and down the two flights of stairs. He doesn’t want to touch Chloe unless absolutely necessary, but on several occasions Maggie needs his help, especially when getting Chloe into the car. She fights them a bit because she wants to lie down across the backseat, but can’t because of the Newton’s car seats.

Just when they think the worst is over, with Chloe safely buckled into the front passenger seat, Chloe starts to shout something at Maggie – and vomits all over the poor woman instead. Micah tells Maggie to go upstairs and borrow one of his t-shirts while he cleans up the front seat. He’s just finishing wiping down the middle console with disinfectant wipes he found in the glove box when Chloe moans and grabs his arm.

“Do you hate me?” she asks, lower lip trembling. She looks so vulnerable, Micah can’t help reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“No, babe, I could never hate you.”

“You probably think I’m a horrible mother,” she says, and then the tears begin to flow. It’s the first time he’s seen her cry in five years.

“No, you just had a rough day. You’re a wonderful mother.”

“Because I never do this,” she continues almost as if she hasn’t heard him, “I don’t do this. I don’t. I’m not a dumb kid anymore.”

And that was one more thing for him to feel guilty about. She had gone from a carefree college kid to single mom with so many challenges and responsibilities. Overnight. Because of him. But Maggie was right, he had apologized enough. He was just about to assure Chloe he knew this wasn’t her, but she had fallen asleep again.

“Out, Barrett,” a voice behind him orders, and Micah jumps. Maggie is jerking her thumb and ordering him out of her SUV. “I’ve got this,” she assures him as he slides out from behind the wheel.

He watches Maggie situate her pregnant belly in the driver’s seat and start the engine. “Are you sure about this? Getting her in the car wasn’t exactly easy.”

Waving her hand, Maggie scoffs, “Nonsense, I’ll be fine. Chloe’s apartment is on the first floor. You have to stay here with Luke.”

Micah nods and backs away from the curb, watching as Maggie pulls away. Once the tail lights are out of sight, he turns wearily back up the stairs. He shuts the apartment door quietly behind him and locks it, then heads straight for Luke’s room.

He eases his son’s bedroom door open and stands at first peeking through the large crack. For a long time, Luke had trouble sleeping when he was here. Micah had tried everything to help, but the bottom line is that Micah’s place isn’t his home. It’s just the place he comes to visit his father every other weekend. Luke clutches a stuffed dog and a blanket just like the ones he has at Chloe’s, and a night light shines a kaleidoscope of stars on to the ceiling. But it wasn’t until Micah purchased the sound machine that Luke could finally sleep in his room. It plays ocean sounds: waves gently lapping at the shore in a rhythmic wooshing sound.

Micah eases into the room and first stands beside his son’s bed, looking down at his peacefully sleeping form. His heart constricts in his chest as it often does when he looks at his little boy, but tonight it isn’t just paternal affection. Someday, he wants to be more than the man Luke visits. He wants to be there for it all: getting him ready for school, helping with homework, nagging him about getting to bed on time because it’s a school night. He doesn’t want to just be a weekend father. Of course, there’s only one way he can have it all.

Micah sits gingerly on the end of Luke’s bed. He gently lifts Luke’s right leg that is dangling off the edge and carefully tucks it back beneath the blankets. Luke stirs, but his eyes remain closed and his deep and even breaths are proof he hasn’t awakened. Micah smiles as he brushes the hair from his son’s forehead. For all the mess Micah caused by bringing up the past, at least he now knows one thing. Chloe still feels it too – the passion between them. He thinks back to what she said Halloween night – there were good memories, too. We were in love, Micah. That’s what she had said this afternoon at the park. Could she love him again? Now that they were different people?

Micah mulls over Maggie’s advice. Yes, he wants a future with Chloe. But this time, he wants more than just passion. They aren’t kids anymore. Luke has changed them. This time, he wants to give Chloe a mature love. A sacrificial love. And he’ll be patient proving it to her - no matter how long it takes.

[bestiesandagents]

I was thinking about a Drowley fic prompt to the song "One More Night" by Maroon 5. I forgot about it until I heard it on the radio today and thought it was a really good Drowley song.

One More Night

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Angst, Dysfunctional Relationship

Word Count: 1180

Lyrics

Tagging:Drowley: @dauntlessdiva, @hekate1308, @supernatural-lover26Everything: @evansteph, @cosmicallydepressed, @siluthis(Message me to be added to my tags.)

“What the hell, Crowley?!” Dean stormed into the King of Hell’s throne room, the door echoing as it slammed shut behind him.

Crowley, who hadbeen in the middle of conducting a meeting with a handful of other demons,looked exasperated as his gaze landed on his lover. “Can’t you see that I’m inthe middle of something?”

He glared around atthe array of demons that didn’t seem to know what to do about the fact thatDean Winchester had just stormed into their midst. “Do I look like I care?” hesnapped as he turned back to Crowley.

Dean would have calledthe demon that lunged at him brave, if it weren’t for the fact that he was soincredibly stupid. He didn’t even manage to so much as touch him before Crowleysnapped his fingers and he disintegrated. Dean didn’t bat an eye.

“All of you, out,”Crowley ordered, resigned.

There was only aslight hesitation as the demons glanced at each other, unsure of themselves,but then they quickly filed out the door. Dean didn’t move from where he stood,his eyes locked with Crowley, burning with anger and betrayal that he knew wascompletely unjustified. Crowley hadn’t betrayed him – he never would have givenhis word not to do something like this in the first place – it was Dean who hadbetrayed himself by allowing himself to get so wrapped up in someone like him,by allowing Crowley to have enough power over him to make him feel this way. Hehad stopped using his head, and look where it had gotten him. And not for thefirst time, either.

“What can I do foryou, darling?” Crowley asked, just a touch of sarcasm to his voice.

“I know you killedthose people,” he spat.

He sighed as he laiddown the notes from whatever meeting he had been in and leaned back in histhrone. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Dean’s blood boiledat that, but of course he was right. Crowley had killed lots of people. Whoeven knew how many? “A family in Little Rock. Found slaughtered in their homeyesterday morning. Place reeked of sulfur, and I know your touch when I seeit.”

Crowley’s eyes sparkled,but he otherwise appeared unfazed. “Your point?”

“Dammit, Crowley! Ican’t believe you would-”

“Now, that I findhard to believe.”

He was right. Itwasn’t Crowley he couldn’t believe; it was himself. How could he be so stupid?For being with Crowley in the first place, for standing in front of him nowwith no weapon in hand. He should be killing him, not yelling at him, secretlyhoping for some kind of explanation, even though he knew Crowley had nojustification for his actions. That he didn’t even think he needed one. “Did iteven occur to you that I’m a hunter, and I might end up on the case?” hedemanded. “You realize how messed up this is, don’t you?”

“Please, youinterfere in my business all the time,” he argued as he rose to his feet andbegan to walk across the room, towards Dean. “You dispatched five of my bestdemons last week.”

“That’s totallydifferent! I’m trying to save people-”

“And I’m trying toconduct business! Do you know how bad it looks that I haven’t killed you andyour brother yet? Especially after your little display tonight. So, I think Ido you enough favors without swearing off killing just a few of the otherpeople that I need dead for the benefit of my kingdom!” His voice rose witheach word until it was echoing through the room.

“Seriously? Notkilling your boyfriend is a favor now?” He shook his head, unable to believethat Crowley was trying to turn this around on him, even though it wasn’tanything he hadn’t done before. “What the hell is wrong with us?”

“Everything.”

He was right aboutthat. Dean didn’t think it was possible for a more dysfunctional couple toexist. He didn’t know how he had ever thought that they could make it work. Butthen, he hadn’t really. There had never been much thought involved in his andCrowley’s relationship, it had just happened. But it shouldn’t have. That muchhe knew.

He took a step back.“I can’t do this anymore.”

In two seconds,Crowley had grabbed hold of his arm and had him pressed against the wall, Dean’shands automatically finding his hips before his brain could catch up with whatwas happening.

“Don’t…” he started,but even he could hear the old weakness creeping into his voice as his eyesflickered down to the lips that were now just inches away from his and his bodypressed closer, responding to him despite his protest.

“I love you, Dean,”Crowley said, his voice low and fervent, all of the passion from their fightstill there, finding a new outlet.

Yeah, I don’tthink you really know what those words mean, a voice in the back of Dean’shead spoke, but the words, “I love you, too,” were already breathlesslyspilling from his mouth, and he hated how true it was.

And then Crowley waskissing him. This was their dance, he knew it well. They’d fight until Dean hadone foot out the door, and then Crowley would pull him right back in. They’d gofrom yelling and throwing things to gripping each other tight, never wanting tolet go. How had he gone and fallen in love with someone like this? It was allwrong, but he didn’t know how to get out.

“Crowley,” he pantedwhen they finally broke apart. “You know this is never going to work,” he saidreasonably, even though the words seemed to cause him physical pain. “We’realways going to be fighting against each other.”

He sighed as he relaxedhis grip on Dean, sadness in his eyes that made him look almost human. “You’reright,” he muttered as he took a step back, but he seemed unable to move morethan a foot away from him. “So, is this it, then?”

Dean opened hismouth, then closed it again, feeling his heart fracturing in his chest. Don’tdo it, that voice in the back of his head spoke again, but he was alreadysaying, “Give me one more night.” He’d hate himself in the morning, but thatwas just par for the course. At least he’d be satisfied.

Crowley smiled, avictorious gleam in his eyes because he had heard that line from Dean a milliontimes before, and it never stopped there. One night quickly turned into two,then three, then ten, and then they were doing the dance all over again.

“I mean it thistime, Crowley,” Dean insisted, hoping that this time his words would ring true.“I’m only staying with you one more night. That’s it”

“Whatever you say,love.” But there was not a trace of worry in his voice as he stepped forwardand pulled Dean into another kiss.

[mincyclopedia]

loveland

genre; fluff

pairings; Yoongi x reader

idolverse!au; Yoongi hates amusement parks, but could he ever say no to you?

a/n: this is a oneshot, but idk i might make this into series one day. yes, this is loosely inspired by taegi on yoongi’s bday vlive hehe, enjoy.

“Jagiya,”

“No,”

“Yoongi oppa,”

“No,”

“Genius oppa,”

“No,”

“...Handsome oppa?”

“For the millionth time, no!” Yoongi groaned.

“Please?? I mean, the maknaes and Seokjin oppa are going. Can’t we go too??” You begged.

Yoongi squinted and eyed you suspiciously, “That brat Jeon Jungkook talked you into this didn’t he?”

You giggled, “May~be.”

He smiled cynically, “Still no. We’re not going,”

“Please? I’ll hold the umbrella and fan you if it gets too hot. I’ll pay for your ticket and I promise you won’t have to ride anything you don’t like!”

Yoongi scoffed, “And let you ride alone with those fools? Not a chance. I want my girlfriend alive, thank you very much.”

You pouted, “You’re overreacting! It’s an amusement park, what can possibly happen?”

Yoongi sighed. A lot can go wrong, actually. But it wasn’t the safety he was most concerned about. He just didn’t want you to hang out without him, and even if he did tag along, he’d feel left out. Amusement parks weren’t exactly his cup of tea.

So the answer’s still no. He’s not going, and neither were you.

Besides, if all the members are leaving, it meant having the apartment to yourselves. Yoongi needed some deserved some quality time with you, and only you: away from the maknaes’ prying eyes and Seokjin’s teasing.

Yoongi had made up his mind. He wasn’t leaving the comfort of his room, but Yoongi sure would like to see you try.

“Why are you so pent up on going? It’s just Everland,” He asked out of frustration.

You bit your lip hesitantly, “Well... Your tour is coming soon, and I probably won’t see you and the others until the end of the year. I just thought we could spend some time together, you know?”

Yoongi huffed. Of course, when will he learn?

If there was any force that would make him relent, it’s you. How could he ever refuse after what you’ve said?

“Alright, we’ll go,” He finally said.

Your face lit up, “Really??”

Yoongi nodded, “On one condition; You’re sleeping at my place tonight and I want dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Is that it?”

“No take outs though, I want your cooking,” He booped your nose.

“Deal! I’ll go get the tickets now!” You exclaimed and got up from your seat.

To your surprise, Yoongi held you back by the hand and pulled you to his lap, “Ah ah ah, not so fast. Kiss,”

You looked at him funny, but obeyed anyway, cupping his face and pressing your lips towards his.

“There. Done?” You asked.

He inched closer and kissed you one more time, “You’re acting as if you don’t like it.”

“Hey, I never said that,” You replied.

He raised his eyebrows, “So you do like it?”

“I never said that either,” You smiled coyly.

Yoongi decided to kiss you again, longer and more passionate this time, just to wipe off that smirk from your face.

Yoongi chuckled lowly when he saw your cheeks tinted with a faint blush, “Man, you’re really not honest.”

You smacked his chest, embarrassed.

“Am I excused now? I have some grocery shopping to do if I’m going to make dinner,” You said.

“Sure. I’ll see you tonight,” He replied, finally letting go, “And leave the tickets to me, alright?”

You paused, “But I thought—”

“No buts. Just do as I say,” He dismissed.

You smiled, speechless.

Wasn’t he the one who refused to go?

Sure, Yoongi may seem aloof, but he never misses the chance to spoil you and give you nothing but the best.

It’s Yoongi’s pride that holds him back from admitting that he’s head over heels in love with you. He’d buy you something you wanted on a whim, and downplay it like it’s not a grand gesture.

Maybe he didn’t want you to tease how much he’s whipped? Possibly.

In the end, he’s just like you. Sometimes your boyfriend too, isn’t so honest.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to,” You coaxed.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence, “Don’t have to what?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile before leaning in to kiss him once again. His eyes faltered, a puzzled look on his face.

“What was that for?” He rubbed his lips shyly.

“I love you,”

He smiled, looking at you with heart eyes, “Yes, yes, thank you.”

You pouted, “Aren’t you going to say it back to me?”

“Oh no, not this again,” He whined.

“Nope, no excuses,” You crossed your arms.

“Forget it,”

“Never,”

“Let me go just this once, please,”

You shook your head.

Yoongi huffed, blowing the bangs away from his eyes.

“…Fine, I love you,” He said with a small voice.

​“What was that?” You cupped your ear, “Say it louder.”

​He clicked his tongue, “I said, I love you!” He got up from his chair and pinned you on the couch.

You screamed, taken by surprise.

“Well, this is a nice position we’re in,” Yoongi grinned.

“And I wonder whose fault it is,”

“Hmm,” Yoongi smirked, “Is it also my fault that I want to kiss you so badly?”

Before you could reply, Yoongi pressed his body towards yours and kissed you. The kiss started soft, slow, and innocent. But soon Yoongi didn’t hold back, kissing you fervently. Your body went weak immediately, melting into his warmth and touch.

It wasn’t until you both ran out of breath that the kiss stopped.

Yoongi chuckled, “Aw, your face is red, how cute.”

If only Yoongi could see his own face. His face was just as flushed as yours. The rosy tint on his pale cheeks and his red lips made him look ethereal.

“I thought I was supposed to make dinner?” You playfully reminded him.

“You know what? Fuck dinner. You’re not going anywhere far from me,” He licked his lips and went back to kissing you.

—

masterlist

[jamespotterthefirst]

A Wedding Gift

Book: Desire and Decorum Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x Clara Mills (MC)  Words: 1,600 Summary: Ernest has wedding surprise for his bride, Clara, in the place where it all began. 

A/N: My very first fic in the Pixelberry universe. Hope you like it. 

Clara clung to her husband's sides, the trotting of their horse disorienting her even more so than usual. Her eyes were pressed shut, just as he had requested, her cheek resting soundly against his strong back. Despite her efforts to indulge his request, she was having a difficult time wrestling her curiosity away. Every so often, she would open her eyes, astutely attempting to place their surroundings. After mere seconds, however, Ernest, perhaps knowing her far too well than she gave him credit for, would chastise her and playfully threaten to turn their horse around if she did not behave.

“Are we almost to our destination?” she asked for the fifth time during their journey.

Ernest chuckled good-naturedly in response, as he had done every time she'd asked. “So impatient, my lady.”

Clara bit back her coy smile. “I am impatient to see my husband.”

“There's not much to see in our current position.”

“But your backside is one of your most commendable features,” she quipped shamelessly. Eyes still shut, she moved her lips to his ear. “Perhaps soon we can reverse our position so you can do the admiring.”

He did not respond immediately. Her smile turned wicked and she lamented that he could not see it. Before he could reply, she added, “Ideally in a bed? ”

She felt his muscles stiffen slightly, his brief silence an indication that her words had elicited her desired response. Clara could almost envision the slight tinge of color blossoming on his neck and face, even after everything they've been through together. It made every nerve ending in her body flare up.

“You are such a vixen, Clara,” he replied, amused, though she noted that his voice was lower than before.

Before she could continue the banter that they both enjoyed, she recognized the fresh scent of grass and wildflowers that surrounded them. The breeze brushed through her hair and brought about an onslaught of memories that made her chest squeeze.

“My surprise is in Grovershire?” she asked with unrestrained excitement.

Ernest sighed as he brought their horse to a stop. “I should have guessed you would immediately know.”

Clara opened her eyes at once and looked up, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright sunshine. The unbridled joy at seeing the familiar road leading to her home village led her to dismount their horse with a haste that was most certainly unladylike. She did not care, instead focusing her attention on the tall grass brushing against the palm of her hand. She briefly closed her eyes, relishing the melody of the birds that Mama used to loved so much.

“We are not quite there yet, my lady,” her husband said quietly, still mounted on his horse.

All traces of humor were gone from his face and instead he studied her with something akin to reverence. His eyes followed her every move, almost as if committing it to memory. The expression on his handsome face reflected his unguarded affection for her and when her eyes met his, her pulse doubled its pace.

“What is on your mind?” he asked her after a long silence.

Clara gave him a small shrug. “I was only thinking of the first time we met.”

They stood as almost mirror images of that day; he on his horse and Clara on the road leading to Mama's cottage. She had thought him handsome even back then, despite her outrage at almost being run over by his horse. Yet, even with his allure, she had no way of knowing of his insurmountable kindness and passion.

Ernest, unaware of how her heart threatened to over-spill, raised his eyebrows, a knowing smile spreading on his face. “I suppose it is not a trip to Grovershire without being mocked about almost trampling you that day.”

Clara laughed at that. “The words left your lips, sir, not mine,” she teased. “All a result of a guilty conscience, perhaps?”

He shook his head, as if to admonish her, but the effect was completely ruined by the indulging smile he was unable to suppress. “Luckily, I have a lifetime by your side to atone for my lack of manners that day,” he informs her. “Starting with your surprise. Shall we?”

After helping her mount the horse once more, they rode a few minutes in the direction of the river. Ernest did not bother to repeat his initial request, probably humoring his wife's curiosity while also knowing it was useless to try to keep the mystery anyway.

The trees cleared as they neared the water's edge and Clara grinned at the memories of their last visit. “Is this not the same place where you so brazenly beheld my ankle?” she teased.

Not missing a beat, he returned, “I recall it as the place you brashly feigned a fall, hoping I would catch you.”

Clara laughed. “What a shocking accusation!”

“One based in truth and your own admission at the time.” He guided the horse over the shallowest part of the river. “As enjoyable as that was, however, the river is not our intended destination.”

They rode in content silence, Clara occasionally pressing a chaste kiss on his shoulder for no other reason than habit alone. She could hear his smile when he said, “Almost there.”

Their horse turned into a small clearing not too far from the water. Expecting to see nothing but tall grass and the color array of the wildflowers, Clara started when her eyes instead fell on a handsome estate.

“I was not aware there was a home here,” she informed him. “Should we turn around?”

Instead of responding, Ernest dismounted and offered his hand to help her. Her eyes remained on the estate as she descended, a pretty sort of country home with a vast garden that transitioned into the forest beyond.

“Do you find it to your liking?” he asked quietly.

It was then that Clara realized he was observing her reaction carefully. “It's lovely,” she responded. Puzzled, she added, “Ernest, what—?”

“It's yours,” he said simply.

Clara blinked.

He said nothing else, his expression sincere. It was moments before Clara found her voice.

“Mine? I—” she stopped when words failed her, her mind whirling rapidly to catch up. She tried again, “But—”

Ernest let out a laugh. “I do enjoy it when I'm not the one who is speechless, for once.” Clara merely stared at her husband, still unable to form words. He went on, “I had it made a few days after our engagement. The last time we visited Grovershire, I envisioned myself living here,” he met her gaze with a tender smile before adding, “With you. Even then, when all hope of being married seemed lost, this place offered me hope.”

Clara met his blue eyes and her heartbeat quickened just like the first time she met him.

He continued to explain, appearing visibly nervous at her silence. “I know what your town means to you, my lady. I know you lost family here but my hope is that this—” he gestured towards the lovely estate, “—means the start of our family.”

Clara felt her throat tighten as fresh tears pickled her eyes. And still, words failed to come.

Ernest’s expression became one of panic at the sight of her tears. “If it does not please you, I can—”

But his words were interrupted as Clara pulled on his cravat to press her lips on his. He was stunned for only brief moments before he relaxed against her. Their lips moved tenderly at first but his hands moved to her sides within seconds, turning their kiss fervent. Clara's fingers found their way to his hair, her teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He hissed against her mouth, his hands pulling her hips closer to his.

Breathless, Ernest pulled away to trail kisses down her neck.

“Do you like it?” he whispered against her jaw.

Clara struggled to reply, this time because of the way his hands trailed the expense of her thighs. “I love it,” she whispered in reply. She forced herself to pull back so that her eyes met his. “But not as much as I love you, my Ernest.”

His responding smile made his face handsomer still. “I love you, my Clara.” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on her wedding ring.

Cheeks still blazing from their previous embrace, her smile turned devious. “So,” she began as casually as she could muster. It was difficult for his eyes were dark and intently watching her. Instead, she focused her effort on playing aimlessly with the buttons of his coat. “We are meant to start a family here, are we?”

His low chuckle sent fire through her body. Granted, it did not take much, their bodies pressed together as they were. “If it pleases you, my lady.”

“Hmm,” she said, feigning thoughtfulness. She ran a finger delicately down his taunt forearm. “Then we should start right away. I should hate for the house’s intended purpose to go to waste.”

“It's not quite finished yet,” he responded but the protest was only half-hearted. “It remains unfurnished.”

“So no beds?”

His face bloomed with color but he did a commendable job remaining calm. Clara almost smirked at the thought that such conversation would have made him splutter helplessly mere months ago.

Even if he was more receptive of her wicked remarks, Clara enjoyed a challenge. She raised herself on the tip of her toes and whispered in his ear, “That has hardly stopped us before.”  

Ernest remained very still, fighting to regain his composure.

Too soon, Clara's smirk gave way to laughter, which he took in stride. Shaking his head but smiling nonetheless, he took her hand. “Lead the way.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! I might write a follow-up (30 Diamond-esque) scene later! 

 I did not know who to tag. I am brand new :/

[flying-elliska]

HS Reunion AU pt. 3/?

Heyyy I know we thrive on pain here ^^ but if you want a break maybe for a minute, here’s some more incredibly wish-fulfill-y fluff. They’re all thriving adults (for the most part), the reunion starts and Daphne has a surprise ! 

SAMEDI 17:44 

The day of the reunion dawns bright and sunny. They’ve just spent a lazy morning in bed, enjoying each other, only getting up after noon. Lucas promised his husband that this time would be for them, so he kept his itching fingers away from any keyboards or screens. Eliott made crepes with melted chocolate, deliciously decadent. They curled up together on their big couch, read, watched a weird documentary about deminer rats, and rearranged their utility closet. Lucas's still surprised about all the things they’d managed to lose in there, including four different brooms, one of Eliott’s best lenses hidden in an empty cereal box (why), a bag of onions that had taken on a life of their own, and an album of honeymoon photos they’d completely forgotten existed, maybe because it was the one where they both sported completely sunburnt noses after going off trail for a week in Nepal and looked like a pair of molting lobsters. 

The reunion is at 18. They will be having dinner in the old foyer, before going to party on a rented boat on the Seine. Lucas parks the car a few blocks away. He really wants them to have a little time to breathe and enjoy the sun before the madness starts.

It's a gorgeous early summer day, with a little breeze deflecting the heat and sunlight glittering on the water. It’s incredibly thrilling still for some reason, walking hand in hand with his husband along the Canal St Martin, this close to their old school.

Eliott can’t stop grinning at him either. He looks like a vision in his tight black turtleneck, camel longcoat swung over his shoulder, hair as wild as ever. His eyes are intense and full on mischievous, in a way that really does something to Lucas’ underbelly feelings. 

“Hey, so...things are heating up between you and that girl Chloe, huh ?” 

Lucas rolls his eyes. Of course he would go there, the asshole. 

“Yeah, she’s incredible. Woman of my life. Might ask her to marry me in the fall. I always wanted a honeymoon in Bali” 

“Bali, hm ? That’s cute. Are you sure she’s the one, though ?”

“Yes absolutely. She ticks all my boxes ! I mean, she’s such a ...female woman !  She even has breasts and everything ! I think. It’s amazing. Everything I need right there.” 

Eliott laughs out loud. Lucas loves that sound more than anything else in the world, and the fact that they can joke easy now about their earlier jealousies and mistakes feels very healing. 

“Love at first sight, then.” 

“Oh you know how it is, girl bumps into boy once, it must be true love.” 

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Are you talking about yourself now ?”

Eliott raises his eyebrows in a way that makes Lucas blush, then stops and pulls him closer, until their noses almost touch.

“I don’t know, do you have any boxes left for me to tick ? Or are you all ticked out ? Are you sure your boxes are being ticked appropriately ?” 

“Oh, okay, we’re playing it like that, dirty talk in the street ? I don’t remember that part.”

“Why don’t we make up for lost time ?”

“Wait, don’t you have an imaginary girlfriend, too ?”

“Nah. I’m not even playing at that.”

“Well then, you can tick my boxes anytime.”

Eliott smiles and wraps his arms around Lucas’ head, drawing him into a passionate kiss, unhurried and slow, that tastes like minty toothpaste and cigarettes. They have all the time in the world. Lucas thinks of his teenage self, who’d yearned for this so fervently even as the idea of holding another man’s hand in the street terrified him, and he kind of wants to do a victory dance on the spot. 

A few seconds or maybe minutes later, someone coughs loudly next to them. History repeats, apparently, but thankfully with better timing. 

“Well, I see you two are still as disgustingly in love as ever.” 

Emma is standing in front of them, an amused expression on her face. She looks good, if a little jet lagged - hair in a pixie cut, tanned, bag slung over her shoulder, looking as carefree and adventurous as ever. Lucas moves to hug her as if they’d last seen each other last week. 

“Glad to see you made it.”

“Daphne would have reached across two entire oceans to kick my ass if I didn’t. And you know, I figured my family might like to see me, accessorily. And you, still can’t get you past the Périphérique, I see ?” 

“That’s a gross overexaggeration. We toured half the world for our honeymoon.” 

“And let me guess, you’ve been shackled to your desks ever since ? Well, at least you’re rocking the “just rose from my coffin” look together.” 

“Oh, sorry, not all of us want to look like Australian beef jerky.”

They fall easily into bickering the rest of the way, insulting each other in a friendly manner. It really is like old times. The place hasn’t changed much, except for a lot more vegetation in the courtyard. Seeing it evokes a tangled knot of complicated feelings in him. They haven’t been back since graduation, really. When they’ve reached the gate, Eliott holds Lucas back for a moment, taking both his hands. Lucas can feel his husband is nervous. 

“You know, say the magic word and we’re out of there in a second, okay ?” 

Eliott leans forward muffles his laugh in Lucas’ collar. 

“How is this worse than Cannes, seriously ?"

"I almost wish there were paparazzi now, as distraction."

"Let's pretend there are and put our game faces on, then."

Eliott laughs again and ruffles through Lucas' hair, who protests but lets him do it. He always does.

From across the courtyard, he sees Manon come toward them. 

She looks better than the last time he saw her, when she was fresh from her breakup with some hotshot war reporter. He loves this woman, truly, that's his sister right there, but god he wishes for her own sake she’d grow out of her taste for passionate, moody assholes. And it's not the first time, nor the last, he feels he will have to help her pick up the pieces. But that's okay. She's always been there in his most difficult times.

And now she's there, standing tall, wrapped in a designer coat, rocking her signature red lipstick even though there are bags under her eyes and he knows this is the look she wears when she's pretending to be okay. He realizes then one of his goals tonight will be to make sure nobody bothers her about her love life. She's an amazingly accomplished woman. That's all anybody needs to know.

Eliott gives her an extra long hug. Those are the best thing in the world, and his husband has always been intuitive about these things. Good.

Together, they move towards the foyer.

Their old haunt is completely gone - the mural, their ratty old couch, all the things they'd painstakingly gathered together. The space has been merged with another room and is twice as large. Then again, it makes it possible to fit in enough tables, which might not have been possible back then. Their old beat down furniture has been cleared to make room for lush greenery and designer sofas, uncannily clean for a high school. It's been lavishly decorated too, with a banner, pastel streamers and golden balloons. In front of the window there is a buffet full of all sorts of drinks, salads and cakes. It's definitely too much for this type of occasion but then again. Daphne. 

When they enter the room, heads turn, and the gazes aimed their way are a bit too curious and insistent for his taste.  Well, they did end up being one of the most dramatic squads in their year, in the end, it was to be expected but...It’d better be admiration for his on-his-way to famous husband, and nothing else, because if he’s grown out of one thing, it’s suffering fools. He feels both Eliott and Manon’s grip on his arms tighten. 

A very enthusiastic Daphne appears out of thin air in front of them, as if on wheels. She looks like she stepped out of the pages of a magazine, baby blue dress, hair carefully plaited with little glass flowers, as peppy as ever. She welcomes them, kisses all of their cheeks and then directs them to their table, where they find little calligraphied tags to their names in the plates, before storming off again.

Their table is already half-full. Arthur is there, in a crisp suit, accompanied by a posh, bored looking brunette. He is pointedly not talking to Basile, sitting next to him. Lucas sighs internally. He'd really hoped that was over. Basile is accompanied by a vaguely bird-faced woman, who is wearing the exact same disastrous color scheme as him, brown and bright green and red. And then there's Imane, looking impeccable in her deep red scarf and elegant black dress, and her husband Yousef, in deep conversation. Finally, to round it off, there's two random people Lucas already feels sorry for.

They all greet each other. It's a little awkward. He's happy seeing Imane and Yousef though. It's been a while, what with their little daughter and Imane's company getting off the ground and his own crazy schedule.

Lucas gets a text from Yann saying he's going to be late. Basile launches into an explanation of his latest crowdfunding project, something about an app and cryptocurrency that barely registers. The room slowly fills up. Arthur talks about his family company's ventures into the South Asian market. Lucas slowly starts feeling like he wants to jump into the Seine. He didn't come here to witness how boring his friends have become and how adulthood is descending on them to make them into pre-mummified copies of their parents. He thinks he'd almost rather go back to hear college age Basile brag about all his conquests in graphic detail. Almost. And he can feel his husband tensing up next to him; he knows how much Eliott hates speaking about his work archievements, that it always feels like bragging to him, that he wants the work to talk for itself.

Thankfully, this is the moment Alexia chooses to make her entrance. Far from toning herself down, she's only become more colorful and boisterous over the years. Hair bubblegum pink, in a dress marked with a giant golden thunderbolt, she makes all heads turn in her direction. Lucas used to think she was a little obnoxious, to be honest, but she's like a breath of fresh air now. She plops into a chair at their table and immediately launches a debate about the worst part of the new foyer and if they could donate another paper toilet rolls sculpture. It's a relief from everyone posturing about their jobs. Although honestly, Alexia's probably the most successful of all of them. He can never wrap his head around what she does exactly, except that it involves millions of online followers, sponsorships in the US, dancing videos with cats and her own shoeline.

Eliott leaves and comes back with drinks for the both of them. They clink their craft beer bottles against each other and Eliott leans down to whisper in his ear :

"Too bad they took away our couch"

Lucas snorts.

"Fuck no, that thing was a health hazard when we were here already, can you imagine after ten years ?"

"I don't know, I mean. It could have been fun to recreate some memories after everyone leaves." Lucas chokes on his beer. If Eliott is trying to distract him, it's surely working.

Across the table he can see Arthur's date look at them with a contemptuous glance on her face. The woman exhudes as much fun as a bag of frozen broccoli. Petty, he plants a sloppy kiss on Eliott's cheek. If they've earned one thing, it's the right to not worry about what people think of their PDA, goddamn.

Daphne arrives at their table and sits down, slightly out of breath.

"Hey guys ! I'm so happy you are all here ! It's been a while, huh ? I have a surprise for everyone later, I hope you will all participate, I'm counting on you !"

For a moment Lucas is terrified she's going to quiz them on their lives or force them into some sort of weird bonding exercise. Then he sees the look on Basile's face and realizes they have worse issues to worry about. F*cking hell, they dated for a few months ten years ago, and he's still looking at her like she hung the moon, and right in front of his girlfriend too. It took him years to get over her, they were gross the first time, and if Basile does something stupid it's going to take the awkwardness levels from slightly unpleasant to excruciating for the rest of the evening.

Then a tall, beautiful woman with dark skin and long tresses comes toward their table, effortlessly elegant in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She puts her hand on Daphne's shoulder.

"Hey babe, sound's all set up."

Daphne blushes up to her ears.

"Hey everyone, uh. This is Sam. She's my work partner and also. Uh. She's going to be my wife."

The table erupts into shouts of congratulations, surprise and joy. Manon hugs Daphne, Basile's expression falls to the floor, and Alexia claps her hands laughing. Lucas isn't surprised, but he is proud. For a long time, Daphne was even deeper in denial than he was. And Sam looks awesome.

Lucas exchanges a smile with his husband. Maybe coming to this reunion was worth it after all.