#inspiration comes when you haven’t slept all night and the part of your brain that says “this makes no sense” has shut off

[aptericia]

The prince has both a corpse and a ghost, yet he was never even alive in the first place

[alreadyjackbestfriend]

nightmares part 2. jack harlow x reader

Pairing: Jack Harlow x reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Note: after writing the sentence that it's going to be in bold letters, i thought of this song. this part wasn't inspired by it, but I feel like it captures its essence in a way.

part 1.

Haven't slept in a week or two, or two I think I might have fallen in love What am I to do?

you have spent almost a week ignoring jack successfully, you spent some nights studying at your friend's house, others locked in your room (obviously jack tried to talk to you every time he realized you were there, but you knew he was all about respecting personal space so if he knocked on your door and you didn't answer, he didn't try to force his way in), you were never in any of the shared spaces of the house where he could catch you, like the kitchen or living room, you muted his messages and you always arrived at the apartment when you knew he was not there. you even started to wonder if you had chosen the wrong career and you should be a detective or something.

You didn’t need to sleep anyway… although your body didn’t agree. one of your friends gently hit you in the ribs with her elbow, before the professor had the chance to realize you were falling asleep in his class.

It was Friday again, and when the class ended you decided that it was enough, you would go home and get some sleep. you said goodbye to your friends and made your way to the apartment, if everything was the same as before, neither urban nor jack would be there. But obviously, everything was not like before.

Urban was in his room with the door open, lying down in his bed with his laptop on his lap, “heyy, y/n” he said, when he felt your presence leaning against the door frame. He immediately noticed your deep dark circles, but didn’t say anything. You haven’t talked to him in all these days, and you missed him, after all, he was your friend, they both were.

“hey, what are you doing here?” you asked, and he looked at you confused, “it’s Friday” you reminded him.

“right” he laughed softly, “I have to finish this work by Monday, and I need a good grade” you nodded, and you closed the door and walked over to his bed, sitting next to him, forgetting your plan about coming home to sleep.

“ok, what do we have to do?”

You spent almost two hours reading and helping urban writing, and you both were so caught up that you didn't hear the front door opening a few minutes ago.

“okay, this is it for today, my brain is definitely not working anymore”

“thank you, y/n”

“oh, don’t mention it”

“can I tell you something?” you nodded, “I know that you are mad at jack, but you should talk to him, you haven't let him explain what happened”

“he has nothing to explain to me, we are not together, maybe we are not even friends, we are just… roommates” he pursed his lips and shook his head, as if he was disappointed of your answer, “let's leave it that way”

“if you say so”

you tapped his shoulder while getting up and left the room. While you were closing the door behind you, you saw jack in the hall, next to his door. He looked sadly at you, and entered his room without saying anything. you wondered if he had heard what you said, and felt the guilt run down your throat as you swallowed.

You tried to sleep with the lights on that night, but the only thing you managed to do was close your eyes and open them every half hour, trying to stop your body from going into a deep sleep.

***

The next day you spent the morning and the afternoon in urban’s room, reading texts for your classes while occasionally helping him with his work. At one point, he went to the kitchen to make something to eat. meanwhile, you lay down on his bed and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

“okay, that’s it” you listened to jack’s voice and opened your eyes immediately. He closed the door, leaving you with no chance of escape. he seemed really mad, and hurt. You got up from the bed, and looked at him “you're going to have to listen to me”

“I have nothing to listen to” you answered, and jack felt like he was going to explode because of your stubbornness.

“what’s happening in there?” suddenly urban's voice said behind the door

“go away urban!” jack yelled

“what the fuck bro it’s my fucking room” you heard urban said, and in any other context you would have laughed but it wasn't something you wanted to do right now.

Jack shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “please just give us a minute, we'll be out soon”

“fineeeee” your friend said.

“you have nothing to explain to me jack, we are not a couple or anything”

“ok, then why are you mad at me?”

you didn't know what to answer, he was right. But then you started talking.

“because you kissed me and then you disappeared for two days! and you came back with another girl and I know I have no right, but I felt betrayed” you finally blurted out, a pout forming on your lips, trying to hold back the tears.

Jack looked at you confused, “when did I bring another girl here?”

“Jack” you sighed, “I heard her laugh from your room” you said, and saw realization on his face.

“oh, y/n, you got it all wrong, if you just let me explain all this” you crossed your arms over your chest, and nodded, giving him the opportunity to explain himself. he cleared his throat before speaking, “last weekend was a mess, I was a mess, I freaked out y/n, my feelings for you freaked me out. You know why I never tried to make a move on you? Because I have known you for six months, and I knew that as soon as we got a little closer, I would fall for you in a heartbeat, and that’s exactly what happened, and scared the shit out of me. I’m a normal person with fears, you know? Love is something that I’m afraid of, because when you are happy, that’s when things get shattered”

“I know, I’m scared too” you replied, and saw hope in his eyes. “but I didn’t run from you. And how do you explain the girl in your room? I tried to fall sleep even when I was scared of it, in case you decided to fuck her, I didn’t want to listen”

“but that didn’t happen, y/n, I promise you; you have me wrapped around your finger for gods sake” he said, with a frustrated laugh, ”I tried to be with someone that weekend, I confess it, but I couldn’t, because the only thing that I had in my mind was you. And this girl that was in my room came with her friends and they chose my bedroom to hang out because it was bigger than urban’s, and you know how hard it is for me to say no to people” he rubbed his hands over his face, “her friends left because they got bored and she was sitting on the floor smoking with urban and laughing with him while I was laying on my bed, checking my phone seeing if you gave any sign of life”

you felt your body instantly relax at his confession, but you still had something else on your mind “but you knew I needed you the night before”

“I know and I’m sorry, I fell sleep that night, I was wasted, and the day after I spent the whole afternoon throwing up. Then urban came here and saw you, and told me that you went to a friend’s house and didn’t let him explain what happened, and I though the worst.”

You looked at him not knowing what to say, you could see the desperation on his face, and all his explanations made sense, but you were hesitant… because the scenarios you formed in your head kept betraying you, you had a hard time believing how he had shot down each one of them.

“Please y/n, give us a chance. I was so afraid of testing a little of your love because I knew that after that I couldn’t let you go, and I’m so afraid that one of my worst fears is coming to reality exactly because of being a coward”

You spent a few seconds in silence, before you closed the distance and hugged him with all in you, he hugged you back, lifting you a little off the ground. Then, you moved your head to face him and you joined your lips to his in a slow and tender kiss.

When you broke the kiss to take a breath, you said: “I haven’t slept in a week”.

he looked at you with a tender smile, “let’s go take a nap”.

Needless to say, you didn't have a nightmare ever again.

***

I'M SO PROUD OF THIS, i haven't writed that fast and excited in years!!!! i really hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it <;3

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[fruitcoops]

Hi! If u have any time, I would love to read some fluffy Coops hurt/comfort! Maybe Remus having a nightmare about Greyback?

I can, yes! For those of you wondering why I didn’t continue the Greyback audio series despite a couple different asks: someone kept coming into my inbox and bothering me about progress, and I got tired of it. I write for fun, and if the story isn’t flowing I generally work on something else for a bit until inspiration strikes. Constantly asking (like, three times a day) about a fic will not get it out faster.

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares, past injury, and self-deprecating dream talk (briefly)

Greyback was out of the league, and rumors had begun to fly about a possible court case. Remus had received hundreds of texts, emails, and DMs from people expressing their condolences—his old teammates had contacted him more in the past 48 hours than they had in literal years.

And he was so unbelievably tired.

Hattie rumbled against his front and Sirius was solid and warm behind him, curved in a protective parenthesis against the endless unanswered messages. Upon Remus’ request, he had taken his phone and put it on the top shelf of the laundry room cupboards; anyone who wanted to talk to Remus would go through Sirius, first. He couldn’t think of anyone that mattered who didn’t have Sirius’ phone number.

“Are you still awake?” Sirius murmured against the nape of his neck. Remus nodded silently. “Do you want to take some melatonin?”

“It’s alright.”

Sirius shifted and pulled the blankets further onto their shoulders; Hattie wiggled up until her face was out of the sheets, then sighed heavily. “Do you want to talk?”

Remus shrugged, suddenly feeling shaky and untethered. He had only caught a passing glance of Greyback at the conference, staring him down across the lobby until his handlers took him away and left Remus alone with the media. The look in his eyes was almost murderous. “Just don’t let go.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he closed his eyes, matching his breaths with Sirius’ until his world narrowed to the heartbeat against his shoulder and Hattie’s fur in his hand. No aching feet, no pounding head, no verge-of-tears clog in his throat—just Sirius, just Hattie, just them in their bed and the whole world locked outside.

“We’re going to be okay, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sirius moved and a small pocket of cold lodged behind Remus’ knees. “Re, I knew what happened before the story came out.”

“But know there’s…”He waved a hand in the air. “People. Cameras. So many people trying to contact me all the time, and I’m tired. I haven’t really been here for you.”

“Remus.” Sirius tugged on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, but kept their sides pressed together. “You don’t have to be here for me right now. It’s my job to be there for you while this is going on. Besides, I’m used to dealing with media and nosy people.”

Remus exhaled slowly. “Thank you for taking my phone.”

“You asked me to do it.”

“Still. You could’ve said no.”

“You have enough on your plate already, mon loup.” Sirius trailed his fingers lightly through Remus’ hair and he closed his eyes. “Sleep. I know you didn’t last night.”

“I slept a little bit.”

“Yeah, for about two hours.” A gentle kiss pressed against his cheek. “Sleep.”

He took a deep breath and tried to relax, letting the tension drain from his muscles and allowing the tsunami of exhaustion to wash through in its place. His brain still ran at a million miles per hour and he could feel the beginnings of yet another headache—though who was he kidding, the last week had been a constant headache—but he focused on his heartbeat and breathed in the familiar scent of their bedroom.

Remus felt himself slipping, and suddenly all he smelled was sweat. Sweat and fear and the spongy plastic of the mats sticking to his cheek. He couldn’t feel any pain, but the terror of someone’s hands on his body bolted all the way to his core. Pressure on his thighs as the person’s knees pinned him down; pressure on his back and a palm by his shoulder blade; pressure, so much pressure, on one joint until it gave out and Remus was falling.

He was cold, colder than any ice bath, and gasping for air.

He won’t love you. He never did. Nobody will ever be able to tether you for long. He’ll get tired of trying.

“Please,” Remus begged as the roaring wave came up behind him. A blurry face appeared ahead, with cold eyes and a razor-sharp smile. “No, no—”

Fenrir wouldn’t let go. He was trapped like a fish in a net, struggling and fighting against the harsh grip until his eyes flew open and someone was talking right next to his ear and it was too much too much too much—

“No!” His elbow slammed into something soft and the warmth across his chest disappeared. “Get off me!”

Bedroom. He was in a bed, in a bedroom. In his bedroom. It smelled like lavender and laundry detergent. Hattie was on the floor, carefully sniffing his hand and watching him with huge gray eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest and waited for the last of the nightmare to tremble through him.

A hand brushed against his arm and he flinched, teeth chattering despite the warm room. “Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” The mattress dipped as Sirius sat up and crossed his legs, sitting patiently and rubbing one rib.

Remus’ mouth went dry. “Did I hit you?”

“Just your elbow.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hit you.”

“Do you want to take a look?” Sirius asked, his voice soft. Remus blinked rapidly and shifted to face him; he lifted the edge of his sleep shirt and gestured to his ribs. “See? No marks. You didn’t hurt me, just surprised me.”

“Part of me wishes they never found that video,” Remus said. The words tumbled from his lips—he had been choking them down for days now, but he was too tired to hold them in anymore. “I wish nobody ever knew except you and me and him.”

Sirius hummed. “That’s fair.”

“It’s stupid. He deserves what he’s getting.”

“He does.”

Frustration bubbled in his chest. “Then—then I have to choose one, right? He deserves what he’s getting and I deserve to move on and his name should be dragged through the mud, but I just want people to leave me the fuck alone.”

His shoulders folded in and he pressed his forehead to his knees; there were no tears left, but that didn’t stop the shivering that made his stomach hurt. “Can I touch you?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” Remus leaned into him, laying both his legs over one of Sirius’ and curling up like a barnacle against his side. “Sorry for dumping all this on you.”

“Re, this isn’t dumping stuff on me. This is communicating how you feel, and Heather says that’s a good thing.”

“Heather isn’t here.”

“When’s your next appointment?”

“Monday.”

Sirius gave him a squeeze. “I’m not a therapist, but I can hug you until Monday if you want.”

Remus laughed a little—there wasn’t much humor in it, but at least it was there. “That sounds pretty nice, actually. I’m going to take a shower and then make some tea.”

“It’s a mint with honey kind of day?”

“Yeah.”

Forty minutes later, when Remus was mostly dry and bundled in his most comfortable sick-day clothes, he went downstairs and found a steaming mug of mint tea with honey waiting on the coffee table. Sirius smiled and patted the couch as the opening credits of Avatar began. It felt…well, it felt almost normal.

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Hiii :O May I request dating Captain Burns Head cannons? Not gonna lie I would like a head pat from this man :") Thank you! UwU

Dating Captain Burns...

i legit have been trying to figure out how this man would be like in a relationship. I’ve read his Wikipedia, seen his scenes, read other headcanons for inspiration --- so much. And for the most part, I can somewhat see what he would be like but for some reason, my mind goes empty when I try to think about him 

nonetheless, here I go

Burns is a serious man, much like Hinawa; however, he is much more relaxed when compared to the Lieutenant of Company 8

he knows when to stop working and take a break unlike the aforementioned

however, there are moments where you have to pull him away from those piles of paperwork he has yet to finish --- like for real, the stacks just keep on coming with no end in sight like how is that even possible???

but despite this, you also know that sometimes it’s just best to let him continue to work. Strangely enough, I think he finds some peace when just signing papers (not saying he’s not at peace when with you but like yeah)

so you’ll provide him with a cup of water and a small meal as well as some small kisses in order to entice him to come to bed with you and actually rest rather than continuing to sit in that chair of his 🤭

and now that we have that part written down, let’s talk about how ya’ll started dating

in my opinion, I don’t think Burns would ever date someone in the Force. It’s too risky and messy and it literally just reminds him of all the things he’s done

so no, you are no a part of the Fire Force

instead, you’ll most likely be a civilian that he either saved or bumped into while on one of his missions or even when he just wanted to get out of the base and away from the job

another thing, I’m not saying it’s “love at first sight” type of thing but more of he just knew you were going to be special to him

and as much as he wanted to just walk away from you, he couldn’t. He physically could not step away from you without at least having known your name

and the rest is history

he has a tendency to spoil you, mainly to apologize for the frequent absences and because he just thinks you deserve the world

PDA isn’t something he’s into surprisingly enough

he likes the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks, and the holding of hands but anything else is to remain in the privacy of your home

but that doesn’t mean that you won’t declare your love for him when in front of other Company’s

lol if you look close enough he’s blushing

oh I just thought of this

in the middle of the night, when the base is quiet and he’s still stuck doing work in his office --- you’ll sneak into the building and into the room. At first, he’ll scold you because you should be back at home in your shared bed sleeping soundly. Saying that he doesn’t want you getting sick from lack of sleep; however, you brush his scolding as if they were nothing. 

seeing this, he’ll just stare at you for a few minutes. Hoping to intimidate you, even though he knows he never will, in hopes that you’d leave. And when you continue in your defiance, he’ll just let out a sigh and scoot his chair back. Giving you access to his lap, you’ll grin a joyful grin as you climb into his lap, your face facing him. 

once comfortable in your new “bed”, he’ll scoot the chair back in and wrap one arm around your waist while the other holds yet another paper he has to sign. All while you’re quietly snoring into the crook of his neck

ngl there have been moments where the two of you have fallen asleep just like that and in the morning, the other members find you 

they secretly take pictures of you and then send them to you bc they know how much you love shit like that 

don't tell him though

was about to publish it when I got this other idea

no one but yourselves knows about this but the two of you have an unspoken contest of who can pat the other’s head before the other falls asleep (is this worded right? it’s six am and I haven't slept in three days so my brains fuzzy lol)

like I don't even know where I got this idea but I can like totally see it

it’ll be when you’re both alone and like he’ll start caressing your head, which would cause make you start to fall asleep but then you’ll do it back and he’ll start falling asleep and so on so forth

HAHA I can totally see the “suddenly stops caressing you so you get angry about it and then calm down when they resume said action”

lol

huh now that I think about it, Burns kind of reminds me of Nicolas Brown from Gangsta idk why lol

...

(A/N): Feel free to request, just read the rules.

Hope you enjoyed!

[dollscircus]

Adenn Baar’ur - Chapter 2

(Merciless Medic)

(Inspired by Stubbychaos Paz x Nurse!Reader fic)

Summary: Finding an injured Mandalorian wasn’t how you expected the night to end; surprisingly forming a strange friendship with “Big Blue” however he begins to realise that you have a connection with another mandalorian which was unknown to you.

Paring: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader. F!Reader & Din Djarin (Siblings)

Includes: Wounds, swearing - Canon typical stuff. Also flirting and fluff.

Words: 2,226

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

A03. (Sometimes chapters are posted earlier on A03)

Tag list is open! Just send me an ask!

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

As you woke up, your body felt so stiff. Letting out a quiet and drawn out groan, you turned your head towards the shuffling sounds. Aki and your cots were only separated by a flimsy scrap of fabric, she was always a morning person which greatly irritated you and you curl into yourself and let out a shudder but you let out a yell when the fabric was suddenly pulled to the side and a body dropping on top of you. Aki shook your shoulders while demanding you to wake up while your arm flew and your hip bucked up trying to kick her off. After a few moments of you and Aki yelling and fighting you both stopped. The woman was still straddling your waist when you picked the pillow up and covered your face with it.

“Get up- Y/N. You oughta get up.” She dropped her head so it rested on your shoulder, her breath brushing against your neck. It sent a shiver up your spine so you rolled to the side and that caused Aki to fall next to you.

“Nope. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You said through the pillow but after you finished you removed the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Aki playfully scoffed and turned her to you.

“Yeah because you took in a patient when you had just done a twelve hour-“ She stopped when seeing your expression, it was tired and soulful. She saw the dried tear tracks under and on your cheeks, her lips parted slightly and her eyebrow furrowed slightly.

“Oh, you had-“ She trailed off as you nodded your head and let out a quiet and sad chuckle, “Alright, get some more sleep.” She leaned in and placed a kiss on your temple.

Aki disappeared down into the infirmary leaving you in the cot again, exhaustion still lingered on your body and mind yet your brain refused to let you fall back asleep. Scrunching up your face and you brought your hands up to your face, cupping your face. Letting out an annoyed groan. Your mind was still groggy as you were waking up so the memories were slowly coming back to you. The thought of Big Blue crossed your mind, your thoughts apron these memories fondly. Smiling slightly as your arms dropped to your side than the memories of Blue mentioning rumours. Rumours about you. You didn’t know if you should be insulted or flattered.

You sat in silence for way too long, after laying in bed for an unknown amount of time. You threw yourself up and off the cot quickly dressing yourself after deciding that you might as well get on with work. You mean, you were already awake. You walked into the infirmary as Aki was sending someone away when seeing you she scoffed and pointed towards the door;

“You barely slept, go back to bed. Medic.” Aki was careful not to say your name aloud. She didn’t know why but you’ve only told your name to her. You never wanted anyone to know your name so you earned the simple name of ‘medic’ or ‘nurse’ around Navarro. However, you must’ve earned a couple of other names that you weren’t aware of.

“‘M can’t sleep.” You scratched the bad of your head, “Might as well work.”

The day went as most days do until the evening - people came in bloodied and bruised you and Aki would patch them up then send them on their way however when it got dark a typically when you would really get the crazies. As you threw away the last bits of bloodies rag, Aki worked to restock the supplies but let out a sharp curse causing you to glance in her direction;

“We’re outta bacta spray.” She groaned while closing the cabinet, “Guess we’ll get some tomorrow-“

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to soothe the soreness you felt in your neck. Your whole body was sore, practically begging for you to rest but you continued to work even saying to Aki that you’ll go get some from your usual supple guy.

“You really don’t have to-“ She started, “It’s late and I’m pretty sure Karkolt has a thing for you.” Karkolt was one creepy son of a bitch but small so relatively harmless, you put of a fake smile and replied with a light chuckle that

“I’ll use that to get them for cheap prices then!” Before Aki could protest anymore, you slung a bag over your shoulder and left the building.

Karkolt was your supplier. You weren’t sure where he got his supply’s from but you weren’t going to pass up the discounts you get for having a cute face. Despite how late it was, Karkolt never seemed to sleep so when you arrived at his house you weren’t worried about waking him up. Knocking on the door, you waited for a couple of moments before he opened it without sounding like a horrible person. The best way to describe Karkolt would be unsightly. However, you offered your typical fake smile and tone while greeting him.

“Medic! Lovely to see you!” He greeted, you could smell his breath from where you were standing but you’ve been around him enough time to be used to it.

“Karkolt.” You said, “You got any bacta spray left?”

He smiled, a smile that sent shivers up your spine as he gestured for you to come in. As you walked, his hand hovered over the small of your back. Maker, you were thankful he never actually touched you than all self restraint would’ve gone out the window. Sitting down on a chair as Karkolt disappeared into a separate room, you silence for a few moments while listening to the distant sounds of rustling.

The door slowly opening caused you to jump and your hand to rest your weapon. You've never run into Karkolt’s other customers but you guessed they weren’t all upstanding folks. However, you were presently surprised by who opened the door. Big Blue. It was comical how huge he looked in the door frame, the thought caused you to giggle before greeting him.

“Nice to see you haven’t been stabbed again-“ You said with a smile. He looked you over before replying with an amused voice.

“You following me, Adenn Baar’ur?” Maker, you had forgotten how those words sounded when he spoke them. Please keep speaking. You shook your head trying to rid yourself of that train of thought as you rose to your feet and pointed at him.

“I was here first- Blue. If anything, you’re following me.” Playfully, you tilted your head to the side in mock suspicion before adding, “Besides, I don’t chase after men. Do I look desperate?’ The following few second of silence made you frown but Blue spoke before you could,

“Of course not, mesh’la.”

“Oi, don’t use words I don’t understand. Mandalorian.”

“Or what?” His tone was increasingly playful and you felt a real smile plagued your lips, “You'll throw me across a table?”

Did he just- He did! How did he hear about that? You don’t like fighting- you never go out of your way to start a fight but where you work and who you work with might cause you to. You thought the advent he was referring to was when you had to stop by the cantina to speak to Greef about a payment and one of the hunters decided to get handsy with you. So naturally you threw him across a table- you're deceptively strong and he had to learn that the hard way. You felt your cheek grow warm in embarrassment, is that what you're known for?

“How did you-“ You began to question but much to your annoyance Karkolt returned with bags apron bags in his hands. His presence reminded you, why was Blue even here? Karkolt looked to Blue and greeted him with,

“Ah, I was wondering why you hadn’t picked up your shipment! Nice to see you aren’t dead.”

You glanced up at Blue and he simply nodded at the other man, who seemed to notice how close you were standing to Blue, which you hadn’t even noticed until Karkolt did a double take.

“I wasn’t aware that you too knew each other.” The way he said it was odd, there was annoyance laced in with his fake cheerful attitude. You coughed while moving away from Blue, painfully aware of your actions now. Taking the bags from Karkolt, you pack your own bag while he disappears again presumably to retrieve whatever Blue was here for. You dropped a few credits on a nearby table while throwing the bag over your shoulder. Looking to Blue before leaving you smiled and uttered,

“Goodnight Mandalorian.”

“Goodnight, mech’la.”

“That better be a nice word you’re calling me.”

He followed you to the door, as you stood outside looking in he tilted his helmet to the side as he spoke; “what else am I meant to call you? I don’t know your name.”

“That’s by design. You don’t get that until the fourth date.” You stopped for a second to playfully smirk, “Besides, I don’t know your name either.”

“Also by design.”

“Of course, Blue.”

“Then two dates to go.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, hearing it caused you to bite down a wide smile.

“No this isn’t a date- chance encounter and first time you were stabbed. Not sure about mandalorians but I like my dates to be romantic and not bloody.” You teased but the hardy chuckle from Blue caused you to falter, made even worse by him leaning down so his helmet was closer to your face.

“Then what would class as a date?”

“Are you asking me on one?” Your teasing didn’t give up though, who would break first. Surly not you, you didn’t have an delusions that he was only joking so-

“What if I say I am?“ He cooed, MAKER- dammit. You broke first.

“Then- I would say; I’m almost always at the infirmary. Stop by sometimes.”

“You didn’t answer my question- what would class be as a date? What do you class as a romantic little medic?”

“I dunno.” You tapped a finger on his helmet guessing where his nose was, “Figure it out, Blue.”

Finally you pulled your eyes away from Blue and turned away, hiding the wide smile that shaped your lips and stifling a giggle. You felt like a schoolgirl, giggling over a guy but you said screw it to yourself. This might not be anything, could just be some playful flirting. Whatever this was, it was interesting. You were in a good mood as you approached the infirmary and opened the door. Calling out to Aki but you were greeted by something slightly more concerning.

Standing in the center of the room was a human. You had seen him before- knew he was a bounty hunter. His blaster was pointed towards you, you narrowed your eyes and reached your hand toward your weapon, however he shot at the wall next to you, demanding that you don’t move. Your heart was rapidly beating in your chest, you felt a slight tremble in your hands and legs.

“How may I help you?” You stared, the fear just about visible in your voice.

“The mandalorian- he was here.” You looked him over, finally noticing his poorly patched up wounds and bruised face; You barely hid the amusement at the thought of Blue beating the snot out of him.

“Yes, but he’s not here now-“ You explained

“Where did he go?” He yelled, starting to approach you.

“I don’t know- I don’t follow the people I-“ He was close enough to now so struck the blaster against your skull startling you with the sudden pain, the shock caused you to freeze for a second so you didn’t reach for your weapon. Grasping the collar of your shirt he lifted you up and slammed you into the wall, you couldn’t hear much from the ringing in your ears.

“Where did he go!” He demanded, you could feel him wrapping your weapon and threw it to the side. You grasped his wrists as stared him in the eyes.

“I don’t. Know.” He growled and swung and punched you in the ribs. Winded, you tried to draw in a breath but failed to. Much to your horror, you heard a crack.

“Where.Is.He?” You weren’t a stupid person, so you carried two weapon, a blade withdrawing it you plunged it into his hip. He yelled and pulled back and stared at you before raising the blaster at you. About to fire you raised an arm to defend yourself but the shot never came but a shuffle and loud thud instead.

Opening your eyes while gasping for air, the throbbing pain in your rib kept you from moving too much. The bounty hunter was on the ground while Blue stood above him, relief washed over you as your body tried to fall over but Blue caught you in his arms. You let out a pathetic whimper as the pain clogged his mind.

“So you’re following me?” You teased, your voice was quiet and painful.

“Baar’ur.” He said sadly, “I’ve got you.”

Your vision was fading and your body gave up while you passed out.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

[starryeyes-darkestnights]

Gold Rush

Part 5 of We Dance Together Now

An O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician/grad student they met by chance on a roadie to Montreal.

Here are the first few parts!

Part 1 - Jingle Bell Rock

Part 2 - This City

Part 3 - Shut Up and Drive

Part 4 - Wicked Game

I also stuck this up on AO3, my username there is the same :)

These beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove ! Her work is amazing, and I’m so happy to get to play with some of the people and places she’s created <3

The song that Finn is singing in this chapter is Gold Rush, by Taylor Swift. And it’s the song that inspired this entire fic :):) 

I imagined Finn playing it like the version by Travis Atreo! (If you haven’t listened to that you should :) )

I hope you like it!!!

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

Logan

It was too early the next morning, or maybe too late from the night before, when Logan finally gave up on the idea of sleep. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when stole out onto the balcony, closing the door softly behind him and leaning against it. He stayed there for a moment, still and quiet in the pre-dawn chill, and let the fresh air wash over him. He let his eyes close and breathed in deep- once, twice, three times.

It was better, being out here. He always felt more grounded, more like himself, outside. He pushed away from the door and wandered over to the patio chair in the corner, out of sight from anyone who might wander into the living room.

He wasn’t sure how to talk to the other two after last night. He had been off all night, he knew. Having Finn there to watch them play, seeing Leo get hit on the ice, making it to the play-offs… it had already been a lot. And then that moment in Cap’s kitchen…

He slid down in his chair, scrubbing his face with his palms as he tried unsuccessfully to block out the memory of Finn’s eyes on his, of Leo’s chest flush against his back.

What he should have done was leave with Dumo when he’d offered. But no, of course he wouldn’t do the sensible thing. He had to be cocky and assume he could keep it under control, when clearly he was an idiot who didn’t know what control meant. And by the time he figured that out it had been too late and he had no good excuse to uber back home without making it obvious that he didn’t want to be around them.

So instead he had just walked home with Finn and Leo, like they had planned. And when they had finally gotten inside, just the three of them, alone in the dark apartment, Logan had promptly panicked and bolted off to his room with hardly a word. Clearly the sign of a man with his shit together.

Plus, to add insult to injury, shutting himself in his room hadn’t even helped. In fact, it had made it worse. Because all he had to do was look around to see that the room had clearly been put together for him. It had happened gradually when he had started spending nights there. First, the sheets had been replaced with new ones in his favourite colour after a slightly drunk and very passionate argument with Finn about the importance of having favourite colours (Finn was in favour. Logan was not. At least not out loud. But Finn had figured it out anyway). Then a container of the Tiger Balm he was constantly rubbing on his legs had appeared on his nightstand after a stretch of home games. There were always two towels waiting for him, after Finn had caught him scrounging around the linen closet for an extra one evening. There was a water bottle on his dresser, a phone charger plugged in next to it. He had clothes in the drawers and an extra pillow to hug while he slept—Leo must have shared that detail.

His toothbrush was in the bathroom, his favourite snacks were always in the fridge and a spare blanket had made a new home on the couch for when he inevitably got cold while the other two overheated. He’d had more than one pair of very fluffy socks thrown at his head when Finn caught him shoving his toes between the couch cushions to keep warm, and those socks were sitting on the end of his bed even now. Everything he needed to be comfortable, Finn had provided, without ever saying a word about it.

It had surprised Logan at first, how thoughtful Finn was underneath all that chaos. How observant. Him and Leo were similar that way. They were similar in a lot of ways, actually, and it both warmed and twisted Logan’s heart to watch as the two of them grew closer.

Last night, as he had closed his bedroom door behind him and took it all in, it was the twisting that took over. That room had felt like a safe haven for him for the past four months, but now everything in it reminded him of what he could never have. And so he had just laid there, on top of the blankets, staring at the ceiling and trying to will himself to sleep.

The balcony door creaked open again as the sun finally broke away from the skyline, and Logan didn’t have to look over to know it was Leo.

His tall silhouette moved forward to lean his forearms on the balcony railing. He didn’t look at Logan either, but Logan knew he had come out to keep him company. Just like he had last night. Logan tried not to read too much into it. It was just who Leo was. If Finn was the master of creating a comfortable space, Leo was the master of joining you in it.

It was something Logan was kind of jealous of. He was always fucking up when people needed support- joking when he should be serious, and being serious when they needed distracting. But Leo always got it right. He always knew when someone was having a bad day, and he’d show up with exactly what you needed. A cup of tea, the channel changed to your favourite show. A closed door and a quiet warning to others to give you space. He always knew when to ask about it and when to let you sit with it, or when to sit with you in it. Everyone loved him for it. Logan loved him for it. Which was half of the reason he was out here hiding in the first place.

Not that it had worked, because apparently Leo also had a knack for finding people when nobody else even knew they were hiding. Logan had closed his door when he came out. Leo shouldn’t have known he wasn’t still sleeping. He let his head roll to look at Leo’s profile against the morning sun.

“How did you know I wasn’t in my room?”

Leo turned to look back at him with a kind smile and shrugged. “I know you find peace outside. I figured you would rather be here than there right now.”

Logan wasn’t sure what he had been expecting exactly, but it certainly wasn’t that. He just blinked back at Leo for a few moments, trying to formulate a response, and thanked the universe when the door slid open again, distracting them both. Finn stepped out with coffee and a tentative smile, handing steaming mugs to Leo and Logan before sitting down next to them and turning to look out over the early morning cityscape.

The three of them stayed there together in awkward silence, watching the city over the balcony railing. Logan was almost reminded of the night they had done the same thing in Ilvermorny, standing shoulder to shoulder at the railing and looking out over the moonlit ocean. But this was different. Because this time, for the first time since the day they had met, nothing about their silence was comfortable. And for the first time since the day they had met, nobody knew how to break it. And Logan knew it was his fault.

---

Finn

Leo and Logan left for their team meeting at 7am, and Finn hadn’t sat still since. His mind was racing, his pulse pounding in his own ears. Everything was wrong, and it was his fault, and he had no idea how to fix it.

He should have known it from the moment he stepped foot in the arena. If he was being honest with himself, he should have known it as soon as he agreed to come to the game. Half of the reason he had avoided it for all this time was because he knew that seeing the boys in their element like that would be difficult to resist.

But he hadn’t expected the way that game would crack him open. He had felt exposed from the instant he saw them on the ice, and if he had been smart, he would have left the party early. Faked a headache. Blamed a school assignment. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to walk away from them. Instead, he had let his heart overrule his brain, and predictably, he had gotten hurt. And now he was regretting it with every fibre of his being, as the memory kept replaying in his mind.

Last night, he had left the dance floor to go and get a drink. And when he tried to go back out, he had caught sight of Logan, right where he had left him on the edge of the room. And that had stopped him in his tracks.

Because instead of the scheming look Finn had expected to see, Logan’s face had been a stormy expression of pure longing. It had taken Finn less than a second to follow his gaze to where Leo stood, love clear in his concerned eyes as they roamed over Logan’s face.

Finn’s stomach had plunged through the floor even as he looked away. He’d turned on the spot and strode back into the kitchen, pressing his back against the wall and facing resolutely away from the living room, trying to breathe deep and settle the spinning in his head.

He should have expected it. He had noticed it before- the flickering glances and fleeting expressions between them. He had brushed off every one of those instances as just his imagination, and then they had all come back to him in that moment. His brain had felt like it was fighting itself- half of it warm with the thought of them together, the other half cold with the thought of never being with them himself. He’d shut his eyes, trying to block it all out. And then Natalie had come to his rescue. He replayed their conversation in his mind.

“Finn? You ok?”

Her voice cut through the sounds of the party still going on around him.

He’d opened his eyes to see her looking up at him from beside the door, a concerned look on her face. He quickly schooled his face into what he hoped was a convincing smile.

“Ya, of course. Just had one drink too many I think. I need some more water.”

She looked unconvinced, but smiled back anyway and reached out a hand for his cup. “That’s where I was headed too. I’ll fill yours up.”

Finn had stayed put while she went over to the sink, feeling guilty for not helping, but not sure he could move at the moment. When Natalie brought back his cup, he’d been surprised to see her lean back next to him instead of heading back out to the party.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She cut to the point in true Natalie fashion, looking straight into his eyes with a genuine kindness that almost made him want to open up.

But he shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m good.”

She nodded, still holding his eyes. “Ok. But promise me, if you ever need to talk, that you will? It doesn’t have to be to me, but I want you to know that I’m here. And that whatever you say to me, doesn’t go beyond me.”

Finn nodded back with a smile, small but genuine. “I promise.” He meant it.

She took a drink of her water then, looking satisfied. And Finn was beyond grateful for her when she started her next sentence:

“So… you can only listen to one album for the rest of your life. What do you choose?”

---

Finn checked the time on microwave. 8:30. It was still early, but it was going to have to do, because he couldn’t handle this on his own anymore. He was going to keep that promise to Natalie sooner than he had expected. He picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number, turning on speaker and dropping it back onto the table.

“Please pick up, please pick up” he muttered to himself as he circled the dining room.

“…hello?” His best friend’s sleep-filled voice filled the room. Finn snatched the phone back up.

Finn: June. Thank God. I’m sorry for waking you up. Are you awake? Can you talk? Do you want me to let you sleep?”

June: Finn? What the fuck. It’s so early. Why do you sound like that? What’s wrong?”

Finn heard her shuffle around in the blankets, heard her whisper to Heather to go back to sleep. Suddenly he realized he didn’t know what to say. How to explain it.

             June: Finn? Dude, what’s up??

             Finn: I… I just need your help. I don’t know how to do this anymore.

             June: What? Do what anymore?

             Finn: Be around them, June.

June: Be around who? Finn, you don’t make sense, can you like, start from the beginning? I just woke up.

Finn dropped the phone back to the table and brought his hands up to his hair. This was not working. He squeezed his head for a second, trying to organize his thoughts before he tried again.

Finn: It’s Leo and Logan. I thought I had it under control but then I watched them play hockey last night and then I was completely NOT in control, and then I watched them dance together and that… that hurt. And now everything is completely out of the box and I don’t know how to shove it back in.

June was quiet for a moment, before letting out a sympathetic sigh.

             June: Finn…

             Finn: I know, June. I know it’s stupid. Just tell me how to fix it. I’m going out of my mind.

             June: That’s not what I was going to say.

             Finn: … Oh. What were you going to say then?

             June: I was going to tell you to not shove it back in the box.

Finn: Excuse me?? Are you still sleeping? That is not what I called you for. You’re supposed to be helping!

June: I am helping. Finn, you clearly care about each other. Everything you’ve told me about them… it’s obvious. So why are you boxing things up? Let love happen.

Finn stopped pacing and stared at the phone incredulously.

Finn: Let love HAPPEN?! June, they are LITERALLY professional athletes! They are gorgeous. Every time we go out they’ve got, like, hordes of girls following them around. You should see them June. They think they’re subtle but they’ll sneak behind them on the dance floor and crash into them just so they can talk to them. So they can touch them. And I can’t even blame them! And they’re always so fucking annoyingly beautiful. It’s like- it’s like a contest for these girls, and I can’t compete. I don’t want to compete. It’s impossible, June. I’m a grad student with a guitar. I stand less than zero chance here. Plus…

Finn cut himself off with a sharp intake of air. He was working himself up nearly to the point of tears, and he was not interested in crying right now. He let out a steadying breath and forced himself to sit down. June waited a second before prodding him gently.

             June: Plus what, Finn?

Finn: Plus… I don’t know, June. Last night… you should have seen it. The way they were looking at each other, I just... I think, even if they ever were to be willing to get into a relationship with a guy, one they would have to hide… it would be with each other. Not with me.

             June: Ok, well… actually wait, is it Logan or Leo that you’re into?

Finn dropped his face into his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. This was another thing he wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with.

Finn: That’s… another thing. I don’t- I don’t even know. I. Don’t. Even. Know. Isn’t that insane? How is that even possible?? They’re completely different from one another and I… I know it doesn’t make any sense to be equally into both of them, and I have tried, God, believe me I have tried to turn it off. For both of them. But apparently I can’t, June. Not for either one. So, in all honesty, even if, let’s just go completely hypothetical here for a second, even IF I thought it was a possibility that either of them could be interested back, I couldn’t do it anyway. Because there would always be someone else too.

             June: I see…

Finn: I just— UGH! This is insane. This is so stupid. This is the stupidest thing that I’ve ever done. June. Help.

He dropped his head to the table as he felt all the energy drain from him.

Finn: Help me turn it off. Please. I need to turn it off.

He was going to cry. Goddammit. He tilted his head back and stared unblinking at the ceiling, breathing deeply, willing it away. He could hear June on the other end of the line, just waiting, giving him time. After a moment, he continued.

Finn: Why am I like this? Make my feelings go away. I don’t want them.

June’s voice was soft coming through the phone.

June: Yes, you do, Finn. Your heart is what makes you, you. I would never- never- do anything to take it away. You’re the best person I know, and I know this is hard for you right now, but it’s going to work out. I promise. You’ve always got me to talk to when it gets too much, but please don’t ever think it’s better to change who you are.

Finn didn’t think she was right. He was tired of his heart being always on his sleeve. Tired of feeling so vulnerable. Tired of feeling like he was going to implode every time Leo and Logan were near. There was a line he hadn’t known was there that had been crossed last night, and he didn’t know if he could turn back now. If he could go back to pretending. He hated feeling like this, and he hated the tension it was causing between them. But he didn’t want to argue with June right now.

Finn: Ya. You’re right. I’m kind of tired now though, I think I’m going to go back to bed. Thanks for listening, June.

             June: Ok… any time.

Finn could hear that she didn’t sound convinced, but she let out a resigned sigh.

June: Seriously, Finn. Call me any time, ok? I’ll pick up, any time of day or night. You know that. And I sent you my flight itinerary right? I’m coming to see you soon. I’ll be there to hug you in person.

Finn: Ya, I got the itinerary.

June: Good. And please don’t forget, I don’t care if these boys are professional bajillionaires, you’re the only Finn O’Hara in the world and they are the ones who are lucky to have you. I love you.

             Finn: Love you too, June. I’ll talk to you soon.

Finn hit the End Call button on his phone and just sat still for a moment, unsure if he was feeling better or worse. His eyes locked on a mug on the other side of the table and he pulled it toward himself, hoping it was his coffee from earlier that morning. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be his tea from last night. He sighed. Leo was always making fun of him for leaving half-drank cups of tea all around the apartment and he supposed this was why. It was a very disappointing find.

He dropped his head into his hands and stared straight down at the dull surface of the old tea. The last of its ripples faded away as memories of the past few months started to roll through his mind like a film reel.

He thought of the day they met, up on that stage in Montreal. The trip they had taken to Ilvermorny to watch the stars. The team dinners he’d joined and the club nights they’d danced through. All the times he’d looked out from the stage to see them in crowd at his shows.

He thought back to that first show they had come to in Gryffindor, at the Burrow. The way he had felt when he saw Logan flirting with that girl. He hadn’t ever wanted to feel that way again. He had promised himself that night that he would turn whatever feelings he had for them off, keep it friends only.

And even though he wasn’t perfect, he really thought he had been doing a good job of it. But now, sitting here feeling that exact same feeling amplified a thousand times, he knew that he had never turned anything off. That that hope had stayed there, growing in the back of his mind whether he’d been willing to admit it or not. And last night had exposed it. And now that Finn knew, like really knew, that what he hoped for would never be, it was coming back around to crush him.

Finn tried to shake the thought away, tilting his head back to get some air. He was getting in his head, and he knew it. He just needed to catch his breath. He needed to get his thoughts out.

He needed his guitar.

He stood abruptly, grabbing the mug from in front of him and dumping it in the sink on his way out of the kitchen. For his entire life, music had been the way that Finn worked through his feelings. No matter what tangled mess was crowding his mind, pulling at the heart he could not for the life of him keep off of his sleeve, music calmed him. It brought him back to earth, centered him and let him start again. So now, just like he had done a million times before, Finn sat on the edge of his bed, closed his eyes, and let his emotions bleed out through the strings of his guitar.

---

Leo

That afternoon, Leo let himself into the apartment quietly. Finn hadn’t responded to his messages letting him know that Coach had let them go early, and Leo thought maybe he was napping after the late night and early morning they’d had.

He screwed up his face at the thought of their morning. Leo had hoped that sleep would help with whatever weird tension had appeared between them last night, but it seemed to have done the opposite. In the bright morning light, everything had seemed even more awkward, and they had spent the morning like strangers- unsure of how to act or what to say. It hadn’t stayed in the apartment either. Leo had shared an Uber with Logan to the arena, and Lo hadn’t looked at him a single time. He had also, impressively, managed to avoid him for nearly the entire day despite being in pretty close quarters in the locker room. But Leo had finally cornered him for a few seconds on their way out the door. Just long enough to make sure he was still planning to come to Finn’s show tonight. He was anxious for them to work through whatever this mess was. And Logan had, in the end, agreed to come, so Leo hoped that meant he wanted to as well.

For now, though, Leo just wanted to make some tea and retreat to his bed to sort through his own thoughts. Last night had messed with his head too. Knowing Finn had been at the game, watching, and then the excitement of the win. He’d been on an adrenaline high, and then watching Finn and Logan doing… whatever that had been in the kitchen. That had hurt. He’d tried to act normal, but he wasn’t sure he’d done a very good job.

He was pretty sure that what he had seen between the two of them was what was up with Logan as well, but he wasn’t sure about Finn. He’d been weird even before that, from the time they’d met up after the game.

He dropped his keys on the table beside the door, and was just about to head to the kitchen for his tea when he heard the sounds of Finn’s guitar coming from down the hall, quietly playing a song he didn’t recognize. His interest piqued immediately—Finn was always singing quietly around the house, but he NEVER played guitar when Leo was home, unless it was to dick around to karaoke songs in the living room. He always rehearsed for shows in the practise rooms on campus, and when he worked on his own stuff at home it was always on the keyboard, with headphones plugged in to stay quiet. He always insisted it was not pleasant to listen to the songwriting process, but Leo was pretty sure he would be happy to listen to Finn play anything for hours if he did it on his guitar. He was good on the keyboard, but the way he played guitar… it was like it was a part of him. Leo could never look away when he picked it up on stage.

On second thought, maybe it was for the best that Finn did refrain from playing around him.

He made his way down to where Finn’s bedroom door was open and leaned quietly against the doorframe. Finn didn’t seem to notice him, and Leo took advantage of the rare moment, being able to study him unseen.

Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes closed and guitar propped on his knees. His fingers danced along the strings as sunlight filtered into the room, casting shadows below long eyelashes and playing across the freckles Leo loved, high on Finn’s cheekbones. There was never a time when Leo didn’t want to reach out and touch those freckles, let his fingertips trail across Finn’s skin- soft and gentle, connecting the dots. It was a daydream he kept close to his chest, never letting anyone else see.

Leo let himself be lost in that moment, watching, until the boy in front of him started to sing and his admiration turned to awe.  

Leo was used to the Finn he saw playing music on stage, at parties, even messing around in their living room. That Finn was always larger than life, full of mischief and chaos, working hard to make sure everyone was having a good time. Leo had assumed that’s what he was always like as a musician.

But here, alone in his room without an audience to entertain, Finn was playing for himself. And Leo realized he’d been wrong. Maybe that was who Finn was as performer, but this- this was Finn as a musician. As an artist. Open, unguarded, his heart in every note. It was utterly captivating. It felt like he was intruding on something private.

The realization that he was intruding on something private, and had been for several minutes longer than he should have been, finally snapped Leo out of it. He cleared his throat just as Finn started to sing a little louder.

“What must it be like to grow up that beautif—” Finn turned his head at the sound and caught sight of Leo in the doorway. He slammed his palm down on the strings as his voice cut out, ending all of the sound in the room at once. He jumped up, eyes going wide as he stood, his body tense. Leo lifted his hands in a show of peace, and watched Finn let out a relieved huff, relaxing as he realized who was there.

“Jesus, Leo. Dude. Once again: learn to make noise when you enter a space. You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.” Finn’s tone was joking, but Leo noticed his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Leo suddenly realized he was nervous, a feeling he wasn’t used to around Finn. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I tried to message you, Coach let us go early, I know you weren’t expecting me back yet…”

“It’s ok.” Finn stepped in when Leo trailed off.  “I didn’t have my phone. And you never have to be sorry about coming home, ok? Just… try not to scare me when you do?”

Leo huffed out a small laugh at that, relieved that Finn didn’t appear to be upset with him. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t recognize the song you were playing. I wanted to come and see what it was. Are you practising for tonight?”

He watched the long lines of Finn’s throat as he swallowed before answering- a nervous tick of his that Leo had picked up on.

“Oh. Um, no, it’s not for tonight. It’s a… it’s a new one.”

“You wrote it?”

“Ya. I did.”

Leo considered Finn for a second before asking, “… Can I listen?”

Finn hesitated, starting to look uncomfortable as he shifted the guitar across his chest.

Leo immediately regretted the request, worried he had crossed a boundary. He had heard Finn play original music at shows, but this was his personal space, and he had just waltzed in and invaded it. He tried to backtrack. “Oh my god, I’m sorry Finn, I shouldn’t have asked that. I didn’t mean to make you—”

Finn cut him off. “No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s ok.” He looked up at Leo, a new spark in his expression. “I want to play it for you.”

---

Finn

This was his opportunity. He could play the song and either Leo would recognize it was about them or he wouldn’t. He would be upset by it or he wouldn’t. All he knew for certain was that he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He wasn’t deluding himself, he knew it wouldn’t work out. He had realized that last night. Reaffirmed it this morning. And he was aware that it didn’t make any sense, the feelings he had for the two of them, but he was so tired of bottling it up. All he could do was share the best way he knew how and hope they could work through it. They were worth that.

Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, he cleared his throat and brushed his fingers across the strings. As soon as he played the first notes, the song took over. It always felt like magic, the way the sounds of the guitar wrapped around him, calmed him, pulled him together. He looked down, away from Leo as he started to sing.

             “Gleaming, twinkling, eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting I almost jump in”

He kept his gaze down as he moved through lyrics he had finished this morning. The words he had pulled out of himself to try and make sense of it all. To tell the story of the past few months with these two incredible, indescribable boys. This first verse was vague enough that if he didn’t already know, Leo wouldn’t guess it was about him.

But the one that followed… Finn forced himself to look up, to connect with that familiar blue-eyed gaze and watch his reaction. There was no way Leo wouldn’t realize what he was singing about now. Memories swirled behind Finn’s eyes as he played.

“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful

With your hair falling into place like dominos”

Dark curls falling over emerald eyes; blonde over cerulean. Finn wanting to reach out and touch so badly that his hands shook.

             “I see me padding across, your wooden floors,

              With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door”

Every time Finn had walked across Leo’s room to take back the shirt that Leo was constantly stealing and leaving hanging on his closet door, where he knew Finn would be able to find it if he ever came looking. He watched as Leo’s small smile turned into a look of recognition.

             “At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit”

The first time Finn had caught on to Logan’s game, at dinner with Talker. The countless times since that he and Leo had called him out for stirring the pot. The grumpy look on Logan’s face when he realized he was caught.

             “And the coastal town we wandered around,

Had never seen a love as pure as it”

The day they drove out to Ilvermorny and spent one of the best days of Finn’s life playing tourist and looking at the stars. The burning heat he had felt as Logan flirted with him from the side of the balcony railing. The pull in his heart when he realized how much Leo missed the open skies. He knew now what those feelings meant.

             “And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea,

              ‘Cause you know it could never be.”

This morning, at the table, reliving all of these moments as the hope he had been harbouring slowly slipped away.

Leo’s face was unreadable now, and Finn closed his eyes to the sight as he kept singing.

“Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you”

Girls lining up, pushing for their chance to make a move on them. The heat crawling up the back of his neck as he fought to not let it get under his skin. He’d told June this morning that he couldn’t compete. That he didn’t want to have to compete.

“Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush”

Watching them touch the boys, running fingers down their arms, laying palms on their chests as they danced by. Pretending that it would turn into something more. His world spinning as he was reminded time and time again that he could never do the same.

“I don't like that falling feels like flying till the bone crush Everybody wants you And I don't like a gold rush”

The boys made him better. Everything was so easy when they were together. So good. And that made it so much worse to see the longing in Logan’s eyes when he looked at Leo, to see the love in Leo’s when he smiled at Logan. To watch everybody else want these two boys who so clearly wanted each other.

He slid into the final verse, trying to keep it together as he repeated the first few lines. And then,

“My mind turns your lives into folklore

I can’t dare to dream about you anymore”

There was something there between Leo and Logan. Finn knew he wasn’t imagining it. The vision of their future together had been running through his mind on a loop since last night, and it was perfect. They were perfect, together. He knew that the only thing he could do now was rewrite the ending of this story. Write himself out of it. So, lyrically at least, he had.

“I can’t dare to dream about you anymore.

At dinner parties I won’t call you out on your contrarian shit,

And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it,

Cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea,

Cause it will never be.”

Finn’s voice cracked on the word never, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sing the final lines. He forced his hands to finish playing anyway, to give him time to take a few steadying breaths so he could at least look at Leo.

When he’d dragged it out as long as he could, Finn let the final note fade out across the room and sat perfectly still for a few moments. Hoping it would be ok.

When Leo didn’t speak into the quiet, his heart sank. He lifted his head, intending to look at Leo, but his eyes stayed glued to the frets under his fingers. The burst of confidence he had felt when he started the song was a distant memory now.

He tried to laugh, but it sounded fake even to himself. His knees wouldn’t stop bouncing. He needed to break this silence.

“So… ya. Um. I’m sorry. That wasn’t a song that I ever intended for anyone to hear, and…” he stopped as his voice caught in his throat again.

It was quiet for another moment before Leo’s voice, kind and gentle, spoke up.

“I think they should.”

Finn’s heart was pounding in his throat as he heard Leo take a step toward him.

Leo spoke again, softer this time. Cautious. “I think Logan should.”

Finn’s knees finally stopped moving. His entire body froze in place. On a hypothetical level, he had known this was what was going to happen when he decided to play this stupid song. But he always had been better at jumping than at dealing with the fall, and experiencing it was turning out to be much worse than imagining it. It would seem he had failed to factor in how much panic would be involved. What had possessed him to think it was a good idea??

He was suddenly desperate to take it all back.

“Logan?” He croaked out. “No, Logan doesn’t—”

“Finn.” Leo cut him off. He was closer now, standing beside him. “You wrote that song about him. About me. About us.”” Leo’s voice was steady. It wasn’t a question.

Well, fuck. There was no taking it back now. Dealing with the fall it was. He took a deep breath, tried to steel himself for whatever was about to happen, and finally looked up into Leo’s eyes.

His face was still giving nothing away. Which was horrifically unfair because Finn knew that every single thing he was feeling was written across his own. Goddamn goalie face.

Finn whispered then, his voice full of apology. “Leo…”

Leo’s mask finally disappeared.

“Don’t apologize, Finn. Not now. Please.” His expression was suddenly open, vulnerable. Finn wasn’t sure what to do then, so he just pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sat still, giving Leo the space to make the next move. He took it.

Leo’s eyes flickered between Finn’s, unguarded, and searching- always searching.

He started slowly. “I thought it was just me. I thought I was going crazy—these feelings, I didn’t know what to do with them. I just wanted to pretend it wasn’t there.” He shook his head a little, his gaze shifting away from Finn as he continued.

“I promised myself when I came to Gryffindor that I wouldn’t get attached to anyone. Not anyone on my team or anywhere else. I just wanted to keep my head down and focus on my career. But then…” he paused for a moment, and Finn could see him debating how to proceed. All of a sudden he turned those ocean blue eyes back on Finn, and the look in them made Finn forget how to breathe.

“But then there was Logan… and then there was you, and I just… I don’t know.”

Finn’s heart skipped several beats as he blinked up at Leo. He had long suspected Leo’s feelings for Logan, had almost expected that confession, but…

“Wait. Me?” His voice was laced with confusion.  

Leo nodded back.

“Ya. You.” he breathed out. He looked away then, his cheeks flushed and confidence faltering as he continued.

“But I thought… you and Logan. I see how you watch each other. I saw the way he looked at you last night. Oh my God, Finn, the way he was looking at you last night. I knew he had feelings for you and I never thought… I thought I would just have to back away and watch the two of you.”

What? Finn’s head was reeling.

“Leo… Logan. I’ve been watching how he looks at you, Leo. That’s what the whole song…” he stopped, not sure he was making sense. But Leo was nodding.

“I know that now. Now that I’ve heard you sing that, I know.” He smiled reassuringly at Finn, then leaned against the windowsill as his expression turned hesitant. Finn watched some kind of internal debate play out over his features before Leo connected their gaze once more.

“Finn, in your song, you said you don’t dare to dream about us anymore. That it could never be.”

Finn nodded slowly. He had written that this morning. When he thought he needed to back away. Now though… something had sparked inside him as he listened to Leo speak.

“And maybe... maybe you’re right. Maybe it never can be, the way you were thinking about it before. The way I was thinking about it before. It’s impossible, to feel this way about two people.”

Finn felt the spark go out. He was familiar with this moment. Too familiar. He pushed the flickering reminders of his first years in Gryffindor back out of his mind. He didn’t need them to know he was about to be let down gently.

But Leo’s voice was shaky, nervous as he continued. “But maybe—maybe if I stopped dreaming about you separately. If WE start dreaming about us together, all three of us. Maybe… maybe then it could be.”

That… was not what he had expected.

Finn felt something connect inside of him as he considered Leo’s words. It felt right. He looked up at the boy beside him, usually so calm and collected, now looking just as freaked out and vulnerable as he felt.

Finn felt a surge of protectiveness over him. Leo had put himself on the line here, for Finn. So that Finn wouldn’t be out there alone. He knew how big of a risk that was for Leo, with the job he had and the scrutiny it came with. If Leo was willing to take that risk, Finn knew he would do whatever it took to make it worth it.

“Yes.” His voice cracked. He tried again. “Yes.”

Leo looked at him carefully, searching, Finn knew, for confirmation that he meant what he was saying. “Are you sure?”

Finn’s mind was still reeling, but the one thing he felt sure of right now, was this. “I’m sure.”

Leo quirked up one side of his mouth then, his smile warming up the room like the sun peaking out from the clouds. “Ok.”

“Ok.” Finn repeated, starting to smile back. “So, what do we do next?”

Leo’s expression turned serious again. “I think next, we need to talk to Logan. When he gets here. But right now,” he took a step toward Finn, “do you think you could put down your guitar?”

Finn looked down at the instrument he now realized he was clutching to himself like a lifeline. He pulled it over his head and slowly set it down on the bed behind him. Leo held out a hand, his eyes cautious as he watched Finn grab his wrist and stand up.

The two boys were face to face then, and Finn slowly let his fingers slide to twine between the taller boy’s. He had touched Leo hundreds of times before, been closer to him even on the first day they met. But this- the feeling of Leo’s calloused palm against his own, of his thumb tracing gentle circles across his knuckles- was something completely new.

He watched as Leo looked down at their connected hands and used the grip to pull Finn closer, until Finn could feel the heat from his body coming through his shirt. Finn wondered vaguely if Leo could feel the way his own heart was beating through his skin. His eyes traveled up to lock onto Leo’s. He would never get over Leo’s eyes. They were so blue, like the ocean in the sunlight. So inviting.

Those eyes flickered back and forth across Finn’s face, and Finn let Leo be the one to voice what he was sure they were both thinking.

“Finn.” His voice was a whisper.

“Ya?” Finn replied just as softly.

“Will you kiss me?”

Finn’s skin erupted in goosebumps as he felt Leo’s other hand slide gently across the back of his neck. He didn’t know if he even had a heartbeat anymore.

He brought his own hand up, tracing his fingertips delicately under Leo’s jaw and running a thumb along his cheekbone, before tangling his fingers into his hair and pulling him the rest of the way forward.

“Yes.” He was barely able to breathe the word out before their lips met in an impossible kiss.

Finn’s whole body was electrified. He leaned in closer and felt Leo do the same, tilting their heads in unison. Finn felt himself slipping away, his brain drowning out everything but the feel of Leo under his fingertips, against his lips, nothing but Leo’s name running through his mind.

Until another name joined it. Logan. Finn took the moment to slowly pull back from Leo, who was panting slightly as he leaned his forehead against Finn’s, his hands coming up to trace lightly along Finn’s cheekbones. Finn opened his eyes to look at the beautiful man in front of him and said, simply, “Logan.”

Leo nodded, not letting go of Finn. “He’ll be here in a few hours. We’ll talk to him?”

Finn just nodded his agreement, closing his eyes again and moving to rest his forehead against Leo’s shoulder.

“I should let go of you now,” he murmured, “or I’ll never be able to again.”

Leo chuckled, the sound warm where their bodies were touching. “That doesn’t sound half bad to me.” He ran a hand through Finn’s hair and kissed the top of his head. Finn melted into it. “But you’re right,” he hummed against the red curls, “we need to talk to Logan.”

Reluctantly, they backed apart from one another, keeping their hands laced together.

Finn watched Leo’s chest rise and fall evenly, always so composed. Finn’s heart was still racing through his bones.

“How are you so calm right now?”

Leo laughed at that. “It just looks that way. Believe me, my mind is freaking out right now. I was just kissing one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever known.”

Finn cocked his head, lifting an eyebrow. “One of them?” He teased.

Leo just smiled back softly, meeting Finn’s gaze with affection.

“Yeah”

Finn couldn’t help himself; he leaned into Leo again, wrapping his arm around his waist and resting his head where he could feel the steady rhythm of his heart.

“Hmmm” he hummed, listening. “Logan.”

Leo nodded and rested his chin on top of Finn’s head. “Logan.”

“Let’s make some dinner?” Finn asked after a few seconds.

Leo actually snorted at that, finally breaking the spell that had fallen over the room.

Finn grinned back in response. “Ok fine. Will you make some dinner, and I can finally watch you without pretending that’s not what I’m doing?”

Leo smiled softly, looking surprised at that admission.

“I didn’t know you liked watching me cook.”

It was Finn’s turn to snort. “Leo, I like watching you do everything. But yes, I love watching you cook. You care about it so much. I’m surprised you’ve never caught on to that.”

Leo laughed as he pulled Finn toward the door. “After today, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that there are a lot of things I’ve been oblivious about. Let’s go. I’ll make you something you like.”

[taetaemilktea]

Sick in the Soop (Part 1)

Summary: Poor Jimin catches a cold while Bangtan is filming “In the Soop.” Cue some cuddly caretaking and some much needed time to rest.

Sickie: Jimin

Caretaker: Taehyung, mild Hoseok and Namjoon

Word Count: 1570

Author’s Note: Much of this fic is inspired by actual dialogue and clips from “In the Soop”! If you haven’t seen the show and are wondering what clips were used, message me and I can clip/post them! Please look forward to some sickie Tae and caretaker Jimin in part 2!

~~~~~

“hH!—hH’tSHh’iiew!”

Jimin wrapped his FILA jacket more tightly around his shoulders as he let out a shivery sneeze in the evening briskness. He and the group were stationed out by the Bukhan River, enjoying some relaxing time to themselves as they filmed a new series. “In the Soop” came at just the right time. The Bangtan members had been busy with hectic schedules and various promotions, all the while drained at the news of having their world tour postponed.

Jimin would admit to feeling run down by it all, spending a few too many nights awake into the late hours as he and Yoongi worked on prepping their new, soon-to-be-released BE album.

So, he was not too surprised to be feeling a sneezy and sniffly cold coming on. He was quite grateful to have a few days to enjoy some video games, play ping pong against Namjoon, and try out wood carving. Perhaps the relaxation would help him nip this cold in the bud. The group was to return to Seoul after a few days before coming back to the forest, and Jimin wanted to be well before heading back to work.

Until then, Jimin planned to join the 94 liners out under the tent. He had been watching Hoseok and Namjoon chat for some time from his spot inside the house. Jimin’s throat was starting to hurt from all the karaoke he had been doing with Taehyung. The last song had him in a coughing fit with Taehyung patting his back. Jimin had waved off any of Taehyung’s concerns by attributing the coughing to the last set of heartfelt ballads they had sung.

He excused himself as Taehyung cued his next song, telling him he’d see him in the morning. Taehyung waved him off and picked up the microphone.

Time for a nice and peaceful chat, Jimin told himself as he walked out the sliding glass door onto the grassy field. But it was colder than he anticipated. He shivered as the crisp air blew lightly around him, and he jogged over to his friends to sit by the fire. Hobi and Joon were engrossed in deep conversation. They looked up when he sat down, offering him to head towards the house to join them for beer.

“I’ll just sit here and zone out,” Jimin smiled. “I’ll ask for some cold medicine later.”

“Cold medicine?” Hobi’s smile turned to a frown. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m not feeling so good,” he admitted. As if to prove his point, he sniffled wetly and scrubbed a finger under his now red nose.

Namjoon began to worry about Jimin.

“Put your hood on, Jimin. Wear your hood.”

Jimin chuckled at his hyung’s orders. “I’ll be fine.”

“Seriously, wear your hood,” Hobi nodded at him too, noting the chilly evening air. “Wearing the hood makes a big difference.”

“I’m obedient,” Jimin complied, pulling his hood over his fluffy black hair and beginning to poke at the fire as they continued their light conversation. They were all beginning to tire, the warmth of the alcohol from dinner setting in. Hobi and Namjoon continued to chat about the weather, noting the fluctuation in temperature. Their weather-related conversation eventually turned into giggles about their plans to play ping pong, already looking forward to the championship game.

Jimin tried to control his sniffles as his nose began to run more. He didn’t want his caring, and sometimes overbearing, friends to worry more than they already were. He was planning to ask the staff members if they had any cold medicine handy, and mentally noted the need to ask for some tissues as well.

He was thankful when Namjoon suggested they play a round of ping pong before bed. It would give him the opportunity to go back towards the house where it was much warmer. He figured that a game of ping pong, combined with the beer, would be a perfect way to send himself off to bed.

-

Taehyung woke up to the bright sun shining into his and Hoseok’s bedroom. Rolling over happily, Taehyung allowed himself to snuggle into his pillows before heading downstairs to gaze upon all of the activities the staff had planned for the group.

He excitedly grabbed his toy boat, slipping his feet into his favorite slides and trekking down to the lake. After a few loops through the shimmering water, Taehyung whipped out his phone. He wanted his fellow 95 liner to join him. He and Jimin had talked throughout the car ride there about their plans to try new activities together.

30 minutes later, and Taehyung had heard no reply. Checking the time, he noticed the group would be getting ready for lunch. He realized just how hungry he was and jogged to the upper house to help out and find Jimin.

-

Still? He was still asleep?? Taehyung peeked into Jimin’s room. Walking in, he stood over Jimin’s bed as his soulmate rolled over and looked up at him with bleary eyes. Taehyung plopped into bed, cuddling up close next to Jimin. Feeling playful, Jimin tickled his sides, causing Taehyung to giggle and curl up. Laughing Taehyung rolled over so that he laid across Jimin’s small form.

“You slept for so long. How are you, Jimin-ah?” Taehyung murmured into his friend’s shoulder with his eyes closed. He paused, frowning when Jimin didn’t answer. He peeked up in confusion—had Jimin fallen asleep again? Nope.

“hH’tsh‘iiew! hH’iKSHh!!” Jimin had been teased by his nose, finally letting out two breathy sneezes while turning away from Taehyung. With Taehyung draped over his body, he had his arms pinned to his side, so he was forced to sneeze away and down towards the floor.

“Sick,” he sniffled.

Taehyung frowned, standing up to get a better look at Jimin. His poor friend had deep bags under his eyes, his nose now beginning to run from the sneezes.

“You look bad,” Taehyung stated, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon Jimin’s pale complexion.

“Wow, thank you,” Jimin groaned. Taehyung plucked a tissue out of the box on the bedside table and handed it to Jimin who blew his nose with a sigh.

“You’re warm,” Taehyung placed a hand on Jimin’s forehead before sliding under the covers. He wrapped his long arms around Jimin and threw a leg over his small waist.

“You’re an idiot,” Jimin sniffled as Taehyung pulled him in closer.

“Why?”

“You’re going to get sick. You know that.”

“Shut up. You like this—you feel better already. I know you do.”

Jimin couldn’t argue with him on that. Instead, he nuzzled his head into Taehyung’s shoulder and sighed admittedly in content. Taehyung was warm from being out in the sun with his toy motor boat, and Jimin was chilled. He was trying not to shiver. His sore throat had only worsened over night, causing him to cough lightly.

“Did you take medicine?”

“Last night,” Jimin croaked. “It hasn’t really helped.” The cold medicine only made him drowsy.

“Poor Jiminie.”

“Can you massage my back,” Jimin murmured with his eyes closed. Taehyung sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and getting to work. Jimin sighed happily as Taehyung’s long fingers kneaded into his sore, achy muscles. He’d almost fallen asleep when Hobi walked in, pushing the door open.

“Taehyung-ah, go and get it for me.”

“What?”

“The blowtorch, the one we used last night.”

Obediently, Taehyung left Jimin to help his hyungs cook. He didn’t leave without forgetting to give Jimin’s head a comforting pat. Jimin allowed himself 5 more minutes in bed before forcing himself up to eat lunch. He silently wished that one of the other boys could’ve gone to get what Hobi needed—he had quite enjoyed Taehyung’s massage.

-

The Bangtan members finished a delicious and filling lunch. Tired and under the weather, Jimin aimed to spend his day resting. He had wandered around throughout the afternoon, unable to find something he was interested in. His brain was a bit too foggy to write lyrics with Yoongi. His throat was too sore to sing more karaoke with Tae. His body ached way too much to even attempt boxing with Kookie.

When he found Hobi on the patio, he smiled and sat down in the chair beside him.

“Want to paint with me, Jiminie?”

“I don’t know, I’m not that great at it,” he scrubbed a hand under his nose and coughed into his elbow.

“Me neither,” Hobi giggled, patting Jimin on the back. “But it’s fun. Here, use this.”

Jimin took the other FILA sneaker from Hoseok and smiled, already imagining a beautiful cherry blossom tree on the blank, white space. He spent the rest of the afternoon there, happily conversing with Hobi, who didn’t seem to mind the frequent sneezes or sniffles that much.

By the time he had finished his beautiful masterpiece, the members were ready for a quick dinner and to head home to Seoul. By late afternoon, the group was packed and ready to take off. Despite the increasing congestion and growing aches in his body, Jimin was feeling peaceful and content to have spent his afternoon painting with Hobi and to have some much needed rest. He knew that going back to work would only prolong his sickness, so he yearned for the next few days to pass quickly so he and the boys could return to the forest.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.  

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo​​​​​​ square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!”

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy​ @let-me-luve-you​ @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx​ @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva​

[kanawuts]

The Girl Who Loved Fairy Tales

Inspired by this post by @panncakes

I haven’t written anything in years, so apologies if this is terrible. This is set in alternate universe where Jane doesn’t die and none of the characters are involved in sex trafficking. 

Part 1

“Wait, you know him?”

Tan’s voice cut through Jane’s thoughts and she glanced up from her phone. “Hm?”

“Did you just say that you know the doctor?” He leaned closer to her, eyes wide and eager.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, tucking her phone back into her purse. Pued was calling her. Again. And she was ignoring him. Again. “He used to live here when we were kids. We were best friends.”

She and Tan had been holed up in the back corner of the only coffee shop in Viangpha Mork for the last twenty minutes, under the guise of “grading papers,” but so far neither of them had gotten much work done. Tan had seemed distracted since the arrived, fiddling with his pen and shuffling papers around and not saying much at all, until suddenly he’d looked up and said, “Did you hear that the hospital hired a new doctor? I saw him at The Mist last night.”

“Of course,” she said, wondering why he was bringing this up. “Bunn and I go way back. He—”

She was cut off by her phone screen lighting up, alerting her to yet another phone call from Pued. What was it? The fifth one today? Why hadn’t she blocked his number yet? She really needed to block his number.

Pushing her ex to the back of her mind and refocusing on the conversation at hand, she watched as Tan’s eyes seemed to grow brighter with excitement as she explained the childhood connection she and Bunn shared.

“No shit? You guys are friends? That’s great!”

She squinted at him suspiciously. “And why is that?”

Tan paused, considering his words. “He…kissed me. Last night at The Mist. He was absolutely wasted and he stumbled into me and…he kissed me.”

“Oh?” said Jane, raising an eyebrow. She’d always had her suspicions about Bunn’s sexuality. He’d never seemed interested in girls back in their middle and high school days, but she’d never asked him about it and then he’d moved away and they’d lost contact. “And how did you feel about that?”

“Um, have you seen him?” Tan asked. “How do you think I felt about it?”

She tilted her head, considering this. “I didn’t know you liked boys.”

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You got a problem with that?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No, of course not.”

Tan was a bit of an enigma. Despite the fact that they had been friends for several years now, sometimes she felt like she knew close to nothing about him. He never talked about his personal life. And then there was way he could shift from an earnest, almost innocent sweetness into someone downright intimidating and dangerous – she didn’t fully know what to make of him most of the time.

“Okay, great,” Tan said, leaning back in his seat. “So it’s settled then.”

“Huh? What’s settled?”

“You’ll introduce me to him! Officially.”

“I don’t remember saying I would do that.”

If it was possible for a person to actually make the pleading face emoji expression in real life, Tan was currently doing so.

“Jaaaaaane,” he whined. “Please. I really think he might be my soulmate.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Your what?”

“I know that sounds crazy but hear me out. I’ve met him before. Well, not really ‘met,’ per se, but…had a run-in with. It was like eight years ago, back in college. He dropped some papers and I helped him pick them up and then he hurried off before I could introduce myself or get his name or anything and I’ve always been pissed at myself for not chasing him down. We had this connection, Jane, I swear we did. I can’t explain it, but I saw him and something…clicked. That sounds stupid, I know. But I’ve never been able to get him out of my mind. I’ll be having sex with someone and I’ll close my eyes and I’ll see his face. That has to mean something, right? A guy I said three words to years ago having that much of an impact on me? It has to mean something.”

Jane stared at him, completely caught off guard. He’d never opened up to her about something so personal before.

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “God, why am I even telling you all this? You probably think I’m crazy.”

She reached out, taking one of his hands in her own and pulling it away from his face. “I don’t think you’re crazy,” she said, though that wasn’t exactly true. She quickly racked her brain for something positive to say about the situation. “I think…I think you have good taste. Bunn is the best person I know. I’m not surprised someone would spend eight years pining for him.”

Tan smiled slightly at that. “He’s really handsome,” he murmured.

Jane shook her head in disbelief. She had never seen him like this. “Well, I assume he’ll be at the party tomorrow night. I can introduce you there.”

“The party?”

“The hospital director’s birthday party! Tan, don’t tell me you forgot. You promised you’d be my date.

“Oh…right…”

He had definitely forgotten.

“Don’t even try to back out. You brother is going to be there. And my sister. I cannot face them alone, Tan. I really can’t.”

If there was one memory Jane wished she could erase from her mind forever, it was the sight of Pued and Rungtiva, together in bed. Even now, thinking about it, she felt sick to her stomach. But she couldn’t stop replaying the events in her head. Finishing up work early and deciding to go to Pued’s place to surprise him. Walking in on them. Letting out a shocked scream. Watching them spring apart. The look on Rung’s face, slightly smug, as she dressed and slipped out the door without a word to Jane. Pued’s tears and frantic apologies. “Jane, I’m sorry. I can explain. Please. Just listen to me. I’m so sorry. I love you. Please don’t leave.”

But she had left.

She sent him a text later. “We’re done,” was all it said. He hadn’t stopped calling her and texting her since. She really needed to block his number. Why couldn’t she bring herself to block his number?

Deep down, she knew why. Because he was the boy she’d loved for nearly her entire life. Her childhood friend who had finally turned into something more a year ago. She had truly believed she would spend the rest of her life with him, had truly believed he loved her and only her. But he had betrayed her. Tan thought that Bunn was his soulmate? What the hell did that mean anyway? Soulmate? Pued was her soulmate and he’d fucked her sister. It seemed to her that the whole concept was overrated and meaningless.

Wow. So there it was. She, Janejira Sookyod, the girl who loved fairy tales, the girl who cried watching cheesy rom-coms, the girl whose favorite holiday was Valentine’s Day, had become cynical and jaded.

“I’ll be there,” Tan said, pulling her from her thoughts.  He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “And I’ll kick Pued’s ass if he comes anywhere near you.”

**

Tan had stayed true to his word on that one. And unfortunately, he had to walk away from a conversation with Bunn to do so.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Tan,” she said quietly, as he drove her home. “You should have kept talking to Bunn. I can handle Pued on my own.”

Tan stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “He hit you, Jane. You think I was just going to stand by and let him treat you like that?”

“I said some hurtful things to him,” she muttered.

Tan turned his head, the disbelief evident in his eyes. “He slept with your sister. Of course you said some hurtful things to him. Anyone would. That doesn’t excuse him putting his hands on you like that. Are you seriously defending him?”

“No, no, I just…” She trailed off, her head spinning. All she wanted was to change out of this dress into her comfiest pajamas, burrow under the covers of her bed, and stay there the rest of the weekend. “I just never thought he’d do something like that.”

“I’m really sorry this happened to you, Jane,” Tan said softly, seeming to recognize that she wasn’t in the mood to say anything else on the matter.

They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

**

Over the next week, Jane did her best to avoid thinking about Pued at all costs. Luckily, his attempts to contact her had stopped, besides one text he’d sent her the morning after the party that simply said “sorry.”

Sorry.

One word.

As if one word could possibly be enough to make up for what he had done.

She shook her head, as if she could shake the thought of him right out of her mind. This wasn’t what she needed to be focusing on right now. She was heading to the hospital to have lunch with Bunn and she was taking Tan with her. Mostly because he’d begged her to when she’d mentioned her lunch plans. But maybe this could prove to be a good distraction for her. Her own love life was in complete shambles, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help out her friends with theirs.

She watched as Tan’s eyes lit up as soon as Bunn rounded the corner, and she smiled, really smiled, for the first time since the incident at the party.

Perhaps she hadn’t become completely jaded and cynical.

“I thought you were coming alone,” Bunn said, as he reached out to hug her.

“I was going to, but Tan was desperate to see you,” she murmured in his ear as he pulled her close, hopefully quietly enough that Tan couldn’t hear her.

Bunn pulled away, and she a saw a small, pleased smile dance at the corner of his lips before he cleared his throat and rearranged his features into an expression of disinterest, as if anyone was going to buy that. He was the one who’d kissed Tan, after all.

She grinned. The two of them were going to make the cutest couple.

**

An hour later, she and Tan were heading back to her car when she heard someone shout her name.

They both turned, and Jane was surprised to see a doctor running towards them. She recognized her, but she didn’t know her name. How did the doctor know hers?

“Sorry,” the doctor said, coming to a stop in front of them. “I hope I didn’t startle you. Your Ariel keychain fell off your bag.”

Jane let out a little gasp. “Oh my god, thank you so much!” she exclaimed, as the doctor handed the keychain over. “I would have been devastated to lose her.”

“It’s really cute. I love the Little Mermaid,” the doctor said with a smile. “I’m Fai, by the way.”

To be continued...

Part 2

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“New Moon” - Jasper Hale Miniseries Part 4

The agonizing days passed by. New Years came and went, thinking about how I would've spent it with Jasper and his family. The new semester started, and my stress was at an all time high. I was back in my dorm room. Jasper wasn’t here to help me. Jasper was gone. 

It’s all that played in my head. He was gone, I don’t know when he was coming back. It was hell. 

My birthday was today, I received a card in the mail from the Cullens. As well as one from Jasper. I appreciate the things they did for me, but it made it harder for me to forget. I know I didn’t want to forget, but I also wonder if I forgot if I would be better off until they came back. 

I had school that day, went to my classes, and came home. I laid in my bed and hoped for this all to end soon. 

I decided that I would listen to the card, to do something nice for myself on my birthday. I went out and bought a cupcake from a nearby bakery, put a candle in it. 

“Happy birthday.” I say to myself before blowing the candle out. 

As I listened to the deafening music come from my speaker, I couldn’t even enjoy my favorite artist. I couldn’t enjoy anything anymore. I was numb. 

I decided to go to bed. That’s all I looked forward to anymore. It’s all I wanted to do to pass time. It was hard to create art now, things were hard with no motivation, with no inspiration. 

The days passed and before I knew it, it was march. 

I had a difficult time keeping this up, it was so difficult to keep living. I felt like every breath I took killed me a little more on the inside. It was weird because staying alive was the most difficult thing I could do anymore. 

One weekend, I decided to go where I had some of my best memories with Jasper. I had to at least try to get out of my house, just to feel like I was alive again.

I got up out of bed, put my jeans and a sweater on before hopping into my car. 

A little under an hour later, I arrived. Olympic national forest. 

I walked over to the clearing that I frequented with my lovely boyfriend. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. The air was forced out of my lungs and my stomach dropped to my toes. 

I collapsed onto the ground, gripping onto the blades of grass for support. I felt like I was in a dream. I didn’t feel like I was here, it felt fake. Things were too real, I was here alone. I couldn’t handle being here, I knew I wasn’t ready but I had to force myself. I had to know what happened, what we had was real. I needed to know all of my memories of being here with Jasper are real. The tears streamed down my face. I was choking, it was so hard to breathe. I felt like my head was spinning, I felt like I was going to pass out. I sat down and looked at the tree line, the beautiful tree line. I had to be brought back to reality. 

And that’s when I saw him. It was Jasper. He was about 20 yards away, and my breath really was knocked out of me. 

It couldn’t be real, it wasn’t possible. It was a hallucination, it had to be. My brain was trying to cope with the situation, it had to be. 

“Jasper?” I say, choking the words out. 

“Darling..” He says as he walks over to me. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes. It had to be fake. I was being tricked by my mind.

He knelt down in front of me, I felt his hands wrapping around my body. I felt the ice cold touch of his arms around my waist. 

“This feels so real.” I say as I allow myself to lay my head on his chest.

“(Y/N), it is real. I’m back.” He says pulling away, taking a piece of hair in his fingers, twiddling it around. He then moved it to the “J” around my neck. 

“You wear it every day?” He asks me, hoping to hear me speak again. 

“Every day. I haven’t taken it off since I opened it.” I respond, still in disbelief that he was here, holding me. 

“Doll, it’s me. I’m real, I’m here. I’ll never leave you like that again.” He whispers into my ear, pulling me closer to him. 

“Jasper.” I said, eyes widening, realizing what was actually going on. I needed to see if this was real.

I began to touch him everywhere. I ran my fingers over his face, I had to see if it was real. I ran my fingers over his arms and hands, feeling the cold stone under my fingertips. 

“Jasper, you’re real. You’re back!” I throw my hands around his neck, tackling him onto the ground. “Doll, I am so sorry.” He said as he wrapped his arms around me tighter. 

“Jas, I felt like I was in hell. I still don’t believe you’re real.” I said, almost sobbing. 

“I know, it was hell for me too. I am real, I am back. And I will never leave you alone again.” His voice cracking. 

I looked over at him, looking at his sparkling skin. It was real. I can’t believe this was real.

We laid in the clearing for what felt like hours, before the sun began to set. He carried me back to my car and drove us back to my dorm. Holding my hand, we walked back to my room. Not before we caught a glimpse at Mark. 

“Oh (Y/N), is this your boyfriend?” He asked mockingly.

“Yeah, I am. I suggest you never even look in her direction again. Don’t ever say her name again, don’t even think about her. I will make sure of it if you don’t do it yourself.” Jasper snapped at him. Stopping short and pulling me behind him.

Mark’s face was one of fear, knowing Jasper caused it. 

“Enough, Jas. I’m okay, it’s okay. Please, I just want to have a nice night with you.” I plead, pulling on his arm. 

He looks over his shoulder at me, back at Mark, and then back to me before walking back to my dorm. Mark couldn’t be a bother to me right now, nothing could kill the amazement and happiness I felt right now.

As we walk into my room, he picks me up bridal style and carries me to my bed. 

“Well, looks like you did a lot since I was gone.” Jasper says sarcastically. Noticing nothing really moved. 

“For sure, I did it all.” I said, laughing in a sad manner. 

“Darlin’, I sat doing nothing for these months. It was hell. I didn’t do anything without you, I couldn’t.” He honestly told me. 

He then told me about what happened in Italy. Edward and the Volturi. Bella being found out, a new radar being on the family. He expressed the concern for me, but I reminded him that if it came down to it he would just have to change me earlier than anticipated. I was okay with that, so long as he was by my side. I couldn’t do this ever again. 

We updated each other on everything that happened in our time apart. It was an incredibly depressing conversation, though somehow relieving that I wasn’t the only one who completely unraveled.

We spent the night in my dorm, cuddling and I slept in his arms. 

The next morning, we went over to his family home back in Forks. I was so beyond excited to see everyone. I hugged everyone tight and almost couldn’t let go. I missed this all so much, I missed them all. I needed this family again. I was almost crying as I saw everyone again for the first time since September. Things were going to be alright. Things were gonna be difficult while Bella and I were still human, but I don’t care as long as Jasper was here next to me. As long as I had this family with me, I don’t care what came my way. 

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

Word Count: 1403

This is the end of the miniseries, I decided to bingewrite and post it all at once. I know I hate waiting for updates so here it is in full. Thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoyed reading this!

Please send feeback and requests! Requests might take a few days as I have some more midterms but thank you all. 

[havokangel]

come back...be here (bucky barnes x reader)

a summer romance au, with an inevitable ending.

♡

a/n; this is part 2/3 of my bucky series, inspired by taylor swift’s album “red,” link to part one is here. please leave some love on ao3, as well :)

link to ao3

If I had known what I'd known now

I never would've played so nonchalant

I’ll be coming to see you tonight. Usual time, yeah?

                         Buck

It’s strange how a handwritten note can distract you from your responsibilities all day. Your co-worker gave you shit when Bucky left it for you, at his usual table. She kept commenting on your rosy cheeks, knowing how this boy affects you. Even when you retort back, protecting your real feelings from her, she knows how hard you’ve fallen for him.

(Ever since the start of the Summer, when he got comfortable with you, he’d start leaving you notes on napkins. You haven’t told him that you have them all; tucked away in a box, memories from this Summer with him.)

It’s late August now, and things in your small, oceanside town are slowing down. Tourists are leaving their expensive rentals, beaches are clearing out by the day, kids are going back to school, and the traffic in the diner that you work at has slowed exponentially. Normally, you’d be looking forward to work slowing down; that means less work for you, as the usual elderly people who reside here all year begin being regulars again.

But this has not been a normal Summer, all thanks to him.

James. Or, Bucky, as he prefers. You learned that the first time he introduced himself to you, with that easy smirk he always wears.

His family came to stay here for the Summer; their first real vacation, after working their asses off to get to be where they are today. He’s your age, 19; still looking for his place in the world, being reckless when he can because hey, now’s the time to do it, when people expect you to make mistakes. You on the other hand? You’re 19 and stuck in a small town, taking care of a younger sibling as your father drinks his days away, mourning the loss of a wife, the mother to his children.

She passed a year ago, and ever since then, you’ve bared the weight of the family’s responsibilities, the family’s reputation, everything to keep things running smoothly. When you’re the responsible one, there’s no time for fun, for recklessness, and certainly not for boys. So back in June, when a boy with gleaming blue eyes and an air of easiness sat in your section, you fell hard and you fell fast.

Being with Bucky is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s like coming home, after being on a sunny beach all day; a burn blossoming on your cheeks, sand still between your fingernails, and hair damp from the water. It’s like driving through an empty road in the countryside, wind whipping through your hair as you think to yourself, it can’t get better than this.

June and July had passed quicker than the sand in an hourglass falls. Every day was spent with him, regardless if you had work or not. He’d pick you up on his motorcycle, every day being a new adventure. It was hard, in the beginning; allowing yourself fun seemed impossible and wrong on so many levels - who would take care of dinner? Who would take care of your sister? Your dad? It all seemed insane, but Bucky made it better. He always knows how to make you feel better.

You swam, you hiked, you laughed, you kissed...every day felt like a dream that could be so easily altering the way you think. Within a few weeks, he turned your gray and dreary outlook on life colorful, almost reviving the life that you lived before everything snowballed into treachery.

But as the amazing, tiring days with him passed, you knew the end was coming. It was inevitable, really.

He’s a Brooklyn boy. Born and raised, through and through. He was going back home in August, and not just back home; he was planning on enlisting.

Army, he had said. Got shit else happening in my life. Might as well.

He told you nonchalantly, in the beginning, when all you would do is talk at the diner, on your slow days. You didn’t think much of it, and he didn’t bring it up again; even when you’d be wrapped up in your sheets together, the easy pillow talk escaping his lips.

But the note he leaves you today doesn’t give you the normal butterflies and rosy cheeks. It leaves you with a sinking gut feeling that you’ve been shoving down down down ever since he kissed you for the first time. So, as you scrub the counters while watching the clock, anxiously awaiting the end of your shift, you prepare yourself for the end; the end of the best thing you’ve ever had, and arguably… the best thing you ever will have.

---------

12 A.M., sharp.

Plunk, plunk.

The small rocks that hit your window make you shoot out of your bed, practically tossing the book you had been reading to distract yourself.

(More like rereading the same page, too anxious to think of anything else.)

Pushing up on your window, you chuckle quietly to yourself as Bucky looks up at you, grinning that stupid grin he always has. His hair looks damp as he rakes a hand through it.

“Watch out princess, m’comin’ up.” He calls out, as quiet as he can be in the situation.

“Don’t break any bones, please.”

“You know I won’t.”

He jumps up to the tree adjacent to your house, legs swinging to support himself as he easily scales the tree. He’s pretty adept at this, with nights and nights of practice to ensure that he doesn’t fall. As if it was nothing, you move aside for Bucky to reach the window sill and easily swing himself in. You can’t help but bite back a smile as he shuts the window quietly, and turns to face you.

“There’s my best girl,” he says, stepping towards you. His hands cup your cheeks as he presses his lips against yours. “I missed you.”

Like it always is, you melt like butter as he touches you and kisses you like that. How could you not, with someone like him?

“I missed you too.” You answer, but your voice is muffled by his lips. Pulling away from you, he tucks your hair behind your ears.

The look he gives you now is different than he normally looks at you. His thumb runs against your lower lip, his eyes slowly tracing the features on your face. Neither of you says anything for a long time, afraid to shatter the delicate silence as he memorizes the way you look in this moment.

You know what he’s doing, and you start to do the same. Neither of you wants to say it, but, you want to remember this, you want to remember each other.

Leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him, after a long silence, his brow furrows and his hands slide to hold your waist; fingers gripping your skin there.

“Touch me,” you sigh against his mouth, hand gripping the hair at the back of his neck. Something in your voice tells Bucky that tonight is going to be different, from all the other times you’ve slept together. “Please-just-please, Bucky.”

So he does. He lifts you like you weigh absolutely nothing, lips never leaving yours. With each touch, each kiss, each gasp; you pathetically attempt to stop your brain from thinking about what’s bound to come.

Afterward, as you lay in the humid, hot air in your room, you’re in his arms. You’ve grown accustomed to this; his sweaty skin against your equally sweaty skin, the window propped open, relishing in the air that hits you. But unlike those nights, no one has said a word yet. And no one does, until he clears his throat, kissing your cheek.

“My flight leaves early tomorrow.”

The words cut through you harder than you thought they would.

“Oh.” That’s all that you can manage to stay. It’s all you can say. The pounding in your head starts then, and you feel as if a rug is being pulled from beneath you.

“Would you want to… see me off? I know Rebecca would want to say goodbye, too.” He says it carefully; his voice an octave higher than normal. He’s nervous.

You don’t look at him, because if you do, your dream-like state that you’ve been living in will leave you and you’ll be left alone with the reality that you started in. So you just nod slowly, burying yourself in his arms, and reply,

“Yeah, I can do that.”

----------

The last time you were in an airport, you were just a girl, saying goodbye to your grandparents. You hadn’t thought of the next time you’d ever be back here; it was so far away from where you resided.

But here you are, with Bucky, a boy who’s changed every fiber of who you are. He’s leaving you to go back to his life in Brooklyn, his new life that he’s going to be making for himself. Your heart is practically breaking already as his parents and sister leave you two to say your goodbyes.

Bag in hand, and a baseball cap on his head, Bucky just grabs you in his arms. He’s strong, and he knows it - you certainly know it - but you don’t care that you feel like he’s breaking you. You’d gladly let him break you, a thousand times over if it meant you never would have to leave his arms again.

He kisses your head, and that’s when your first tear falls. He pulls away after a moment, the sadness in his eyes apparent.

“Hey-hey. Don’t cry, princess.” His thumb comes to swipe under your eye, and you just hiccup. This is pathetic, you think, berating yourself. “I had a lot of fun this Summer.”

“I did too. I just-I don’t want to go back to reality, I guess.” You manage to answer, wondering how he can be so calm when he clearly wants to just...stay. With you.

“It’ll be okay. I have your number and address. I promise I’ll call and text, and hey, maybe even send you a napkin note.” He reassures, chuckling a little, which makes you smile slightly. “There’s my favorite smile.”

Your rosy cheeks return, and he kisses you again. His family calls his name, and he sighs in annoyance, turning to make a face, a face that reads yeah yeah, I got it. I’m coming. Turning back to you, he regains his focus. He’s doing it again -- memorizing you.

“You changed my life, you know that?” Bucky all but whispers.

Regardless if he knows it or not, he’s making this harder for you. You can’t really blame him, though.

“You changed mine too, Buck.” You reply, voice shaking.

With another call from his dad, all he can do now is kiss you; and boy, does he kiss you. He grabs you and it nearly makes you gasp, but it’s quickly swallowed by his mouth on yours; no cares in the world -- which is classic for him. You don’t care how much of a mess you look as he pulls away, and he says,

“I’ll see you later, ok?”

And as he brought color and life back into your life, the world around you feels as if it fades to black and white, returning to the state he found you in, as he walks away to the terminal. In another life, another time, you’ll find him again.

But for now, you mourn. You mourn what you could have had with him, and you drive home, radio on silent. Allowing yourself to be sad is the only way you can remind yourself that what you had with him was real and that something like that for you is possible.

-----------

This is when the feeling s i n k s i n,

I don't wanna miss you l i k e t h i s.

[ladynestaarcheron]

Prompt idea: cassian and nesta’s first disagreement / fight as a couple (if it’s LPG verse i’ll be super happy but it’s up to you how you want to go about it hihi)

anything to make you super happy!! it’s lpg-verse, but you don’t really have to read lpg to understand it. it’s a few months after nesta goes to illyria with cassian.

and hey, has everyone signed up for the fandom-wide holiday gift exchange? it’s gonna be loads of fun and the deadline’s coming up, so please hurry!

---

In his half-millennium of life, Cassian has had plenty of occasions to look back and marvel at the stupidity of his youth. Like how he used to think garish scars and bruises were good ways to show girls he could fight. Or when he thought that he could just sleep off getting blackout drunk. Or when he loved War Week.

It’s not that he hates it, exactly. He may be the General Commander, but he’s still a soldier. Still addicted to the adrenaline of the drills. An intense desire to prove himself, even now, by besting anyone who crosses him in the ring.

But…he is the General Commander. And War Week isn’t just about him giving his all, it’s about ensuring the entire military is in top form. And considering a significant portion of the military just died a few months ago, and another part are actively trying to de-throne Rhys, and the trust he has spent centuries building with these people is falling through...well. It has not been the best week.

It hasn’t been a week, either—it’s the tenth day of this nightmare that it finally ends. All drills have been run, all reports filed, all meetings concluded with the grim confirmation of their worst suspicions: Hybern has weakened them considerably.

And that and all it entails will be there tomorrow morning. So tonight, he can go home, finally, and drown his sorrows…in Nesta.

Just thinking of her tugs his lips upwards. He’s barely slept all this time, always something to do, oversee, correct, and on and on and on, but it’s finally over for just a bit. It’s nearly six in the evening, and the first meeting to discuss reform is tomorrow at eleven, so he has till then with her.

He shivers, not because of the windchill, as he imagines what seeing her again will be like. Has she missed him as much as he’s missed her? Has she planned on welcoming him back into their bed, like he had at every spare moment? Maybe she’s even cooked for him. Maybe duck, like he always makes for her. Perhaps she’s set the table the same way he did on the night he first kissed her—properly, he means, without any imminent existential threat looming over them—with the fine china, like a real homecoming. Maybe she’s dressed up. If she’s dressed up, he should dress up, too. What if she’s laid out clothes for him? She’s always reading about grand romantic gestures, isn’t she? Perhaps she’s been inspired.

Every wild fantasy spurs him faster, and before long he lands at his house, throwing open the door before even setting both feet on the ground.

“Nesta!” he calls, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Gods, he’s missed her so much.

But one look inside tells him there’s no romantic dinner awaiting him. There’s only a plate drying on the rack.

Even so, Cassian can’t keep the grin off his face. If Nesta’s not here, then she’s in their bedroom.

On any other day, he might’ve teased her right back and taken his time coming to see her, even made himself dinner until she gave up and came to see him, but it’s been ten very hellish days. He moves quickly to the room, as if participating in one of his drills.

The door’s closed, but he can smell her, feel her, and gives himself just a moment to adjust before he opens it—

Nesta. There, beautiful, alive, in bed, waiting for him, perfect—reading a book. 

She doesn’t look up.

Cassian bites his cheek to keep from grinning. So that’s how she wants to play this.

“Hello, Nesta,” he drawls.

She dutifully ignores him, her dark curls bouncing slightly as she angles her head to the side to flip a page. Oh, how he’s missed this, seeing her read in bed. She sits beside him some evenings, head on his chest, one hand in his, the other holding her book.

“Did you miss me?”

At this, Nesta—finally—acknowledges his presence. She lifts her cool gaze to meet his and holds it for three seconds before looking back down at her book.

Cassian’s grin falters. That wasn’t very fun.

But he saunters up to her anyway, and, laying down on his side, reaches his hand over to slowly crawl up her thigh. “This wasn’t the warm welcome I was expecting, you know.”

Nesta jerks her leg away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, voice icy.

Cassian sits up immediately. This isn’t a game. He looks over her wildly, but her face and posture show only anger.

He reaches his hand out again, tentative, this time, and to hers, not her thigh. “Nesta,” he says, putting as much concern into his voice as he can without her accusing him of being condescending.

“How was War Week?” she shoots at him.

He blinks. “Awful,” he says, smiling uneasily. Has she heard something about it that upset her? He racks his brain, trying to think of what it might be…she knew Rhys was going to be there. Is she upset because they saw each other?

“Are you sure you’ve finished everything?”

He gives up rifling through everything. Nothing’s coming up, and frankly, he doesn’t want to waste anymore of the hours he has to spare with her arguing.

“What are you upset about?” he asks.

Nesta snaps her book shut and straightens her back. She faces him head-on, anger radiating off her like he imagined joy would this night. “You said it would be a week. It’s been ten days.”

Oh.

Right.

“I’m aware,” he says lightly. “It was only meant to go on for a week. But apparently, we’re all completely out of shape. Good news for anyone trying to overthrow the crown,” he adds, touching the tip of her nose. Her glare doesn’t falter, so he continues, in a much softer voice, “Do you really think I enjoyed finding out I had three more days of War Week, when I had planned our reunion out a thousand times in my mind? I wanted—“

“I don’t care what you wanted,” she hisses. “I want to know why I had to find out you weren’t coming back from Emerie instead of from you.”

“I couldn’t come back to tell you—“

“Is the art of letter writing too advanced for your brain to comprehend?”

There’s more than just ire in her stormy grey eyes. Cassian can sense pain, too. “I…I know I should’ve written, but I was just so busy. There was always something—and you know how stupid Illyrian males are, don’t you?” he says with a grin. “And obviously, you like it a lot, but I was never particularly into—“

“Is everything a joke to you?” she demands.

Cassian shuts his mouth. She hasn’t been angry at him like this since…before they started this—thing between them. These past few months have been so easy. Blissful. She doesn’t get mad anymore, only vaguely irritated, and even then, only to give him reason to appease her. But this is an argument. A fight.

How did they resolve those before they got together? Cassian can’t remember ever emerging victorious; only miserable and angry. Nesta’s favour is earned through months of good behavior alone.

But he doesn’t have months. He only has fourteen hours before he has to leave.

“Of course not,” he says, voice low. “It’s just I’ve missed you so much—“

“And how do you think I felt?”

There’s that pain again, etched more clearly on her face now. It thins out her cheeks and tightens her jaw.

“Do I even matter to you? Or do you think you can just waltz in and out as you please and—“ Cassian cuts her off with a tight grip on her hands.

“Don’t say things like that,” he says, serious. “You know what you are to me.”

“You couldn’t find the time to send word you were going to be three days late,” she says, not trying to break out of his hold but not pulling him closer, either. She bites her lip for a moment, hesitating, before she says, “And you haven’t even apologized.”

He goes through their conversation quickly in his mind and swears inwardly. “I’m sorry, Nesta,” he says. “For being late and for not telling you and for not apologizing right away.”

Nesta’s shoulders relax slightly and she pulls her hands away from him to clasp them tightly in her lap. “Well, I don’t want to forgive you.”

This, he decides, is not the right time to suggest all the ways he can make it up to her. Instead he moves closer, and says, “I didn’t write because I was sure I would be here. I spent every second of the overtime doing everything I need to so that I could come back as fast as possible. I didn’t think things would keep coming up, and each time they did, I was sure that it would be the last.”

“Well,” Nesta says, “you’re very ill-prepared for war.”

Cassian grins. “You can see why we needed the extra practice.”

“Hmph,” she says, not smiling. “For future reference…don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” he says immediately. “I promise.”

This calms her considerably, and she leans back against the headboard. “All right, then,” she says, prim. “You’re forgiven.”

His heart skips a beat. His next breath of air feels cooler, more refreshing, somehow. He hadn’t realized just how anxious this has made him. But he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t thank her, worried of what he might say and how she might react. So he puts a hand on her thigh again. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear any of my other reasons? They’re very convincing.”

“No,” she says decisively. “But you can start proving your worthiness right now.”

He grins again, and then he does.

Later, tracing lines up and down her stomach, he says, “You know, you were only angry because you missed me so much.”

Nesta sniffs. “I most certainly did not.”

And there’s the game he’s been waiting for. Definitely worth the extra three days. Although he’ll never catch her off guard like that again. Besides, Nesta’s far more fun to play with when she’s the one setting the rules, anyway.