#literally all of the songs slap but those two bits won’t ever leave my head

[wil-dvane]

Nerdy Prudes Must Die has permanently rewired my brain and I wouldn’t have it any other way

Specifically the running motif of “If I could finally be cool, I will know that I’m not a loser”, it gets me every single time. It lives rent free in my head, especially Richie’s delivery right before he dies. Literally what the hell, I will never be the same again

Catch me randomly singing this to myself for the rest of my life

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

[blueskrugs]

Mary’s Song | Tyson Jost

happy friday! we’ve got josty this week! even better, this one’s longer and has minimal angst. I hope y’all like it, thanks again to @broadstbroskis​ for being my beta, and I’ll see you next week with the first song from Fearless!

length: 2.7k words

I looked at you like the stars that shined in the sky, the pretty lights And our daddies used to joke about the the two of us, growing up and falling in love

You’d known Tyson Jost for as long as you could remember . You had been neighbors when you were little, had gone to the same preschool and everything. Your moms said you’d been inseparable from the start. 

Well, really, Tyson had offered you some of his snack, and you’d declared that you were best friends. It had kinda just stuck.

You heard your moms laughing sometimes, and they would say that you looked at Tyson like he’d hung the stars in the sky, though you didn’t understand what it meant at the time. You just knew that Tyson was your favorite person, and that you wanted to be friends with him forever.

Take me back when our world was one block wide I dared you to kiss me, and ran when you tried

Tyson got into hockey when you were still little. He was head over heels from the start, though from the one time you had tagged along with Laura and a toddling Kacey to practice, it seemed like there was more falling than playing hockey.

“I bet I could teach you how to ice skate,” Tyson said one day after school. 

You laughed, because he knew that you were scared of falling, but Tyson was looking at you earnestly, all messy hair and bright brown eyes. You were seven, and Tyson was starting to show some talent on the ice, you knew he loved it, but you would like to keep your feet on solid ground, thank you very much.

“Aw, come on,” Tyson begged. 

“No way, Tys,” you said, but Tyson kept pushing, literally, shoving up into your space and leaning on you.

“It’ll be fun!” he tried. You just shook your head at him. “Alright, fine. Tyson’s eyes turned mischievous, and you knew then that this wasn’t going to end well for you. “What about a bet? If I win, I get to teach you how to ice skate.”

He had you there. You were nothing if not competitive, and Tyson knew that better than anyone. And when Tyson with you and competition, you would stop at nothing to win. 

“Ugh, fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “But a bet’s cheating, and you know it.” 

Tyson just grinned at you. You thought for a minute. Tyson was bigger than you, just a little, but still enough that he wasn’t above tackling you into a snowbank to get the upper hand. You knew because he had done it just last week. 

You had an idea.

“Bet you can’t catch me,” you said, and Tyson opened his mouth to complain. But you pressed a kiss to his cheek before scrambling off the steps you were sitting on, and Tyson was left staring after you, mouth still open.

You’d overheard the other boys in your class talking about cooties and teasing Tyson about being best friends with you just the other day. He’d been blushy and weird about it for a couple days before deciding that he could, in fact, be best friends with a girl, cooties or not.

You laughed, loud in the quiet of your neighborhood, as you heard Tyson shout, “Hey!” and collect himself enough to race after you. 

He did end up catching you, because you were too busy laughing to keep running. You’d never admit it to Tyson, either, but letting him teach you how to skate was fun.

Well, I was 16 when suddenly I wasn’t that little girl you used to see They never believed we’d really fall in love

In another few years, hockey went from something for Tyson to everything, and he was heading off to B.C. You didn’t let Tyson see you cry when he left you behind, but it was hard, only 12 years old and watching your best friend get on a plane for 800 miles away. You didn’t want him to forget about you.

Tyson always came home, though, and when he was too far away, he would always call, always answer the phone for you. Before you knew it, you weren’t kids anymore, and Tyson was getting drafted. You were there with his mom and Kacey when Colorado called his name. You were so happy for him, but as you watched him pull that jersey over his head, you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing your best friend again. You weren’t sure you’d get him back this time.

Except in the middle of the madness that was the draft party back home later that week, Tyson grabbed you by the arm and dragged you outside. He was still wearing an Avs hat, but it was crooked, and his cheeks were flushed.

“I’m proud of you,” you told him. You felt like you’d been saying that a lot lately, but you still meant it every time. Tyson just shrugged at you, ducking his head. 

“I wanna talk to you about something,” he said. Up close like this, Tyson seemed nervous.

“Tys. What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna miss you,” he admitted, but there was still something he wasn’t saying. He’d left you before, that wasn’t anything new.

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Tys, but-”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Tyson blurted, cutting you off.

You froze. Tyson looked unsure, curls askew under that stupid hat, and, yeah, he was just your best friend, but you’d probably been a little bit in love with him for years, too.

You didn’t quite know how to say that, so you stood up on your toes and pressed a kiss to Tyson’s lips. When you pulled back, hands still on Tyson’s shoulders, he was grinning down at you.

“So.” Tyson’s hands found your hips. “Guess you love me, too?”

“I take it back.” Tyson was going to be annoying about this, you could already.

“Nope,” Tyson said. He kissed you again, because he could. “Too late.”

Not much changed after that. You and Tyson still spent all of your time together, except there was a lot more kissing. Tyson had always been a tactile person, always looking for an excuse to be close to you, to be touching you in some way, and now he didn’t need an excuse. You couldn’t turn around without Tyson being there, a kiss pressed to your cheek, your temple, your lips. 

You rolled your eyes at him every time, but you didn’t really mind. 

You saw your moms smiling knowingly at you two sometimes, when they saw you curled up on the couch watching a movie, and you remembered the way they used to say you looked at Tyson like he’d hung the stars. You knew what that meant now, and they might’ve been on to something all those years ago. 

You asked Tyson about it one night late that first summer together, underneath those very stars, on your backs in the grass. 

“How’d you know?” Tyson turned his head to look at you. “That you were in love with me?” You were still young, but with Tyson it just seemed right.

Tyson laughed, rolling to his side and propping himself up on one elbow.

“I think I’ve always been in love with you,” he admitted. He was blushing a little. 

You leaned up to kiss him, and when you pulled back, he was blushing harder. “Me too.” 

You weren’t able to be there the night Tyson made his debut, but he called you after the game, all bright eyes and flushed cheeks and messy curls that you loved so much. 

“I love you,” he said quietly, like he still didn’t quite believe any of this was happening.

You wished you could be there to hug him, tell him again how proud you were of him. 

Take me back to the time we had our very first fight, the slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight You stayed outside ‘til the morning light

The distance never did get easier, especially on the days Tyson struggled with his hockey, and you wondered if there would ever come a day where Tyson would have to decide which he loved more: you or hockey.

But there were always summers together, and long weekends and spring break. You made it work. Or, you thought you did. 

“Have you ever thought about transferring schools?” Tyson asked one day out of the blue. He’d only been home a couple of weeks after the Avs had been knocked out by San Jose.  You were sitting on the front porch swing after dinner, Tyson’s arm around your shoulders, but you tensed and pulled away from him.

“Why would I switch schools?” You had stayed close to home, and you were on pace to graduate early. Most importantly, you were happy.

Tyson shrugged, but his nonchalance seemed fake. “You could come down to Denver,” he said. He was looking over your shoulder at the sunset.

You raised your eyebrows at him. You hadn’t followed Tyson to UND, and you weren’t about to uproot your life to follow him to Denver. He’d been okay with that. You’d thought he’d been, at least.

“I’m not switching schools, Tys,” you said. You couldn’t decide if you were really angry or just hurt. This wasn’t Tyson asking you to move to Denver with him; it was him asking you to give up the life you were building and planning to be his girlfriend.

You stopped yourself from reminding Tyson that he couldn’t even stay in the lineup again this season, because he knew that already.

“Why not?” Tyson looked like he really didn’t get it. “You do want to come to Denver, one day, right?”

And, yeah, of course you did. There wasn’t a future in your head that didn’t have Tyson by your side. But you were supposed to graduate first, be able to start a life of your own out in Colorado, not just follow Tyson there.

“What if I don’t?” came out of your mouth instead. Tyson's face fell. He’d hurt you, and now you’d hurt him, too. “Tyson, my friends and family are all here, how am I just supposed to leave everyone behind?” You would, one day. You just weren’t ready yet.

“I did it.” Tyson’s voice was small. 

He had, and you’d been one of the ones he’d left behind, over and over.

“And what if you change your mind about me, about us?” 

Tyson recoiled as if you had slapped him. You supposed you had, in a way.

“I won’t,” Tyson said lowly. He looked like he wanted to grab your hand. “I would never.”

You believed him, but you couldn’t do this anymore tonight.

“Good night, Tyson,” you said, standing up and heading inside. You didn’t look over your shoulder to see Tyson’s face as the screen door shut behind you. 

You woke up the next morning to find Tyson passed out on your living room couch. He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. 

“Sweetheart,” your mom said carefully as you walked into the kitchen. “Why did I find Tyson asleep on the porch swing when I went out for the paper this morning?”

You giggled a little in spite of yourself. Like a lot of things, last night’s fight felt a little stupid in the daylight. That also explained how Tyson was currently drooling on one of your mom’s throw pillows.

“We got in a little bit of a fight last night,” you told her. “I should probably wake him, eh?” He didn’t look very comfortable, but you didn’t imagine he’d slept very well outside, either.

Your mom just smiled into her coffee.

You watched Tyson sleep for a moment before poking him to wake up. He pressed his face deeper into the pillow for a second before blinking disgruntledly up at you.

“Hey.”

“You’re an idiot,” you told him, but it just came out fond. Tyson grinned up at you. He had pillow creases on his face.

You ended up going out for breakfast, after taking Tyson home to change into not-stale clothes. You both apologized over waffles, but you didn’t talk about it. It was fine, you were fine. The future was scary. 

Tyson didn’t bring it up again that summer. Not until you were on FaceTime one late night after the season started, when you were both tired and defenses were down. It was easier to talk about the future that way, for some reason, making plans while you were both half asleep. You dreamed of mountains that night.

Denver could wait, and Tyson would always be there waiting for you, too. 

A few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town And you looked at me, got down on one knee

Years passed. You graduated college. Moved to Denver, moved in with Tyson. You loved Denver, and you loved Tyson. And on late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you could just reach across the bed instead of reaching for the phone.

It happened back home in Alberta, though, because Tyson was sentimental like that, and home was where it all began.

You were next to Tyson on porch swing after dinner, just like you had so many times before, except tonight Tyson seemed nervous. He was clutching your hand tightly, and he was rambling, some story about JT you were pretty sure you’d heard before. When he paused to take a breath, you nudged him with your clasped hands. 

“What’s up, babe?” you asked. Tyson’s ears turned red the way they always did when you called him “babe.”

Tyson squeezed your hand, then brought it up to his mouth to press a quick kiss to the back of it. 

“Do you remember all the days we used to spend out here when we were kids?”

You did. You’d do your homework out on the porch swing on nice days, and when there wasn’t homework, you’d find some other reason to be outside. It had always been both of yours favorite spot. 

“I always hoped we’d end up back here like this one day, y’know?” 

You did know, but Tyson was letting go of your hand and sliding off the swing, down on one knee next to you, before you could respond.

“Tyson,” you breathed out instead.

There was a ring in Tyson’s hands, and he kept turning it over nervously as he continued talking. You had a half thought to hope he didn’t drop it.

“In my head, I was gonna have this great speech, and it was gonna be all romantic and shit, but now I can’t think of any words to say.”

You giggled and reached out to run your fingers through Tyson’s hair before cupping his cheek. He leaned into the touch. The sun was setting behind him, bright pinks and yellows across the sky, and it was just like every other time you’d sat right here together. 

“I love you,” you said, because it seemed important. 

“You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember, and I can’t think of anyone else I want to spend the rest of my life with. Because that’s all I want, to be with you forever.” Tyson paused, took a deep breath. “Y/N, will you marry me?” he asked, looking up at you with big brown eyes.

“Yes, Tyson, of course,” you said, laughing. You might’ve been crying, too;  it was a little hard to tell. 

After all this time, you and I…

Alberta was home, but so was Denver. Tyson had been by your side for as long as you could remember, and he’d be there for as long as you could imagine.

You’d been lucky to fall in love with your best friend, but you’d probably always been a little bit in love with him, so maybe luck had nothing to do with it.

When you bought a new home together, Tyson insisted that you had to have a porch swing. Not that you would have objected.

“D’you think our kids will be like us one day?” he asked you once. There was a ring to match yours on his finger, now.

“What?” All those years, and sometimes you still didn’t understand half of what came out of Tyson’s mouth. 

“Like, cute, fall in love with the kid next door stuff,” Tyson said. 

You just laughed. 

[writeofmind]

a ghost?! (pt. 1)

Genre: fluff, slow burn, multi-shot <3

Pairing: College!Rosé x Reader

anon: Hi! If possible could you make a master list of all the fics and scenarios you have posted? 😅 I’d also like to request a blackpink college AU focused on Female Reader x Rosé 🥺 lots of fluff and maybe some slow burn and smut? I’d be happy with any Rosé fluff or blackpink fluff though 🤍🤲🏻 thank you 😊

A/N: hi, j anon! this is part 1/? of your slow burn college!au. :D I will try to make this as slow and fluffy as possible. i don’t have a specific plot that i’m sticking to rn, but i have general ideas that i’m very excited to write. that being said, feel free to send in suggestions as to how you want this story to go! (or you can leave it up to me, and be in for cute surprises >:) ) 

a ghost?! | caramel lattes | your favorite regular

-

There were two things that you learned from living your college life. One, you definitely weren’t a morning person, and two, your roommate was a ghost. 

Not literally. The thing was just that you had never formally met them; when you moved in, they weren’t home, and when you would wake up in the afternoons, they would already be long gone and out of the house. Your schedules never lined up with each other, so for the past few weeks, you’ve just been barely missing them, not even knowing their name. 

You didn’t mind, really. The apartment was kept clean at all times, so it really did feel like only you lived there sometimes. But, you can say: if your roommate was a ghost, then they were the loudest ghost. Ever.

It was just your luck to be paired with them, too; they would be up at the crack of dawn, most times even earlier. You’d often wake up in the mornings to music playing or their (you’re sure you can say her) voice singing along. If you were being honest, the latter was your preferred way of waking up. She did have a wonderful voice, and you wished you could get yourself out of bed to tell her that; but she just woke up way, way too early. 

Today was another one of those days. Music was blasting in the background, yet another replay of “Call Me Maybe.” 

Ugh, god... you raised your head at the rude awakening, squinting your eyes at the door. Not this song again.

Based on what little you knew about your roommate, you had an image in your head of what she may look like. To put it short, you imagined a sorority girl, in a way. The type that dance and sing along to pop songs, dresses in tank tops and jeans, partying everyday, that sort of thing. You figured that maybe she didn’t party a lot though, considering she was already home and sleeping when you would walk through the front door. 

You let your head drop back into your pillow. You were too groggy and beat from work the night before that you blocked out the song, blocked out your roommate’s singing, and fell soundly asleep once again as her music faded out the front door and into the hallways of your apartment. Jeez, that girl needed some headphones.

When you woke up a few hours later, the apartment was silent. There was a sigh of relief from you, and you groaned as you stretched your entire body out. Class started in about an hour and a half, so you decided not to laze around in bed and instead get ready for the day.

When you walked into the kitchen to grab something quick to eat on your way to campus, you smelled something delicious. Sniffing the air, you smelled... something spicy? 

Sure enough, when you walked inside, there was a pan of tteokbokki sitting right on the stove. The aroma of the spiciness itself made your mouth water the closer you got to it- then, you saw a note next to it, sitting right under a bottle of water.

Good morning, roomie! I heard you come home late last night, (not that I was trying to be a stalker, but I couldn’t sleep so I was still up when you got back. Crazy, right?) Anyway, I figured you didn’t eat because I didn’t hear you in the kitchen, so I made extra tteokbokki this morning for you to take with you. I made it a little too spicy, so make sure you grab the water too!!

- PC

Your eyebrows raised higher the further down you read the note. She made you breakfast? And packed you a water? 

How sweet of her, you smiled. You wasted no time in scooping a whole bunch of the delicious rice cakes onto a plate and devouring every single piece. (She was right, though, it was super spicy.) 

That was really sweet of her. I should do something for her, too. I feel bad that I haven’t thought to even leave a note. And PC, huh? I wonder what that could stand for. I should make a mental note to ask. 

After eating and cleaning everything up, you realized that you wasted a little too much time in your own head and was running a bit behind schedule. You grabbed the water bottle quickly and ran as fast as you could out the door, into the elevator, and out the main lobby of your apartment. You didn’t even notice the blonde haired girl you almost ran into along the way. 

-

When you were finished with your school day, you always dreaded having to go to work afterwards. Not that it was a terrible job, you were just a barista at a café near campus, after all- but you would be tired and drained after pulling afternoon to closing shifts.

So there you stood, leaning against the counter top at your job as you sipped away at a small cup of espresso. You and your coworkers chatted absentmindedly. It wasn’t too busy tonight, except for a few straggling students that stayed to study. Your manager had even offered to let you go home early, but you decided you needed the money- you were practically getting paid to stand around, anyway.

The bell on the door jingled after what seemed like hours (and maybe it was). Your coworkers, all clowns, hid away from the incoming group of customers and shuffled behind the counters, leaving you to take care of them all. You glared at them and groaned internally, but that was the rules of a college student barista. If you’re not fast enough to hide, you face the consequences.

“Hey, guys,” you put on your smile as you approached the register, “what can I get for you tonight?”

When the girls got closer, you were glad that your hat was a bit too big for your head. It covered the burning read at the top of your ears at the sight of how pretty they were— all four of them, to be exact.

One of the shorter ones smiled back at you. “Hiii,” she greeted, “do you guys know what you want?”

The redhead of the group spoke up first. “Yes, can I just have a tea, please?” She turned to the other girls, “I noticed that my voice has been kind of raspy from rehearsal. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

You minded your own business as you punched in the order. “Of course, and for you?” You looked at the tall brunette, who was squinting at the menu board. You had to hide a laugh as you slid a smaller menu to her. “Here you go, our menu is printed kind of small.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you,” she laughed and took the menu in her hands. The shorter one that spoke earlier laughed too and simply pushed the brunette’s hands down. 

“Can we just get two large white mochas, please?” 

You smiled as you punched in that order too. “Of course.” You now turned to the final girl of the group, who stood silently, staring back and forth at the pastries in the case and the menu board. “For you, miss?”

When she looked up at you, you froze. 

Wow, she was cute. 

She smiled at you so sweetly, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “Um, yes please, can I get all of the vanilla scones that are in here? Oh, and a caramel latte, please.”

Just from eyeballing the case, there were at least 10, if not a couple more scones in there. You glanced at her with a humorous smile and nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”

As you punched in the order, you made sure that you only rang her up for four scones. It was almost near closing time anyway (you told yourself that, but really you still had a couple hours left), and you didn’t want to have to waste any pastries. 

“Can I have your guys’ names for your drinks?” You popped the tip off of your sharpie. 

The redhead, again, spoke first. “Jisoo.” 

Then went the brunette. “Lisa,” she then pointed to the shorter one, “Jennie.”

Lastly, you turned to the blonde. Again, she smiled, and nodded when she spoke. “Rosé.”

Such a pretty name, you thought to yourself. You made it a point to draw a little flower next to her name, just for funsies. You let them know that their drinks would be ready soon, and you gathered all the scones in the case for the girl to have.

The girls didn’t notice the price difference at first when they paid. After calling out their names for their orders, it wasn’t until they sat down at their table with their drinks and snacks that they realized something was off. 

It was Rosé who came back up to the counter as you were wiping it down. 

“Um, hi,” she spoke softly as if not to surprise you, “I’m sorry, but I think there may have been a mistake?”

You looked up at her from the counter with raised eyebrows. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was your drink wrong?”

“No, not at all! It’s great,” she shook her head and showed her bag of scones, “but, um, I think you mischarged me for these.”

Ah, so she did notice. “No miss, that’s okay,” you laughed at her innocence and honesty. Her face even looked worried just from you saying that. “We’re going to be closing in a couple hours anyway, and to be honest, the scones can be a bit overpriced when you buy a lot. Don’t worry about it.”

Her eyebrows were furrowed in the cutest way possible. “But— are you sure? You won’t get in trouble?”

“I’m sure, I’m sure. It’s fine, really miss.”

“Aww... well, thank you—” she beamed and squinted at your name tag, “Joy.”

Aw, shit. You internally slapped yourself in the face, I put on the wrong apron. 

Of all days to be talking to a cute girl, you weren’t even wearing the right apron with the right name tag. You really didn’t want to have to explain yourself and essentially embarrass both you and the girl right now, and you were quite frankly a bit shy already from talking to her for as long as you have. So you just smiled back. “It’s no problem, Rosé.”

With a giggle, the girl turned back around and hopped over to her table, where you could hear her recounting your conversation. You chuckled.

-

As your shift went on, the students inside the café began to disperse and pack up their bags to head home. One of the last students to leave was the group of girls you served earlier, and they even made sure to call out “bye, Joy!” as they left. Your coworkers looked at you funny but ended up laughing at your awkwardness once they realized your mistake.

“Oh, come on, y/n!” One of your best coworkers, Seulgi, laughed, “Now you’re gonna be known as Joy to them! Joy is not going to be happy.”

“Look, man, I didn’t wanna correct her, alright??” You sighed and palmed your forehead, “I got nervous!”

“Ah, well,” your other coworker Yeri shrugged, “at least you may not see her again. So you don’t have to be too embarrassed.”

Your shoulders dropped at the sound of that. You may not see her again? Boo. 

Your closing shift went by smoothly and before you knew it, you were walking through the threshold of your already dark apartment. You saw that your roommate’s door was closed and her light off, but her shoes were on the shoe rack, so you knew she was already sleeping. 

You almost went straight to your room to knock out before remembering what your roommate did for you this morning. You didn’t want to just leave her hanging and make yourself seem ungrateful, so you grabbed a post-it note and a pen.

Hi there, roomie, you began, thank you for the tteokbokki this morning! It was delicious, actually, and I only needed a few gulps of water between each bite. (lol, i’m just teasing, it really was good. i love spicy food.) i’m not sure if you like flavorings in your coffee, let alone if you like coffee or not, but here’s some for you for the morning, since you’re usually up earlier than me. you can use any of my coffee cups, i have way too many.

- y/n

After setting up the coffee machine to brew in the early morning, you stuck the note on top and dragged yourself into your room to get ready for bed. 

-

The next morning, you woke up to silence. No music, no singing, nothing. And it wasn’t early in the morning- it was the usual time you yourself would get up and out of bed.

Huh? you wondered, This feels... unnatural.

You got yourself out of bed and ready for your day as you normally would. You walked into the kitchen for your usual breakfast of coffee and a single granola bar, when you saw yet another note waiting for you on the kitchen table.

it’s no problem at all! i almost thought you hated the tteokbokki when i didn’t see any feedback when i got home. TT TT it’s so funny that we haven’t even met yet. btw, i’m sorry i’m loud in the mornings, i never realized how late you got home every night. i’ll let you sleep in more. :) and you’re so sweet, thank you for letting me use one of your cups, and thank you for the coffee this morning :)

p.s, just so you know a fact about me too, i love caramel in my coffees.

- PC

[detroitbydark]

Chapter 4

Characters: Hound/Nuna (OC) , Ryk (Clone OC), Tully (OC)

Warnings: Not a one!

A/N: went back and forth on wether this chapter would be sweet or spicy. In the end I’m happy with the direction I chose because these two are absolutely cinnamon rolls and I love them.

———

“So…uh, that guy? He seemed like kind of a sleen, right?” Oh Fett. He was saying the wrong thing wasn’t he? He was going to blow this whole thing to the Outer Rim and-

Nuna laughs. Not just a soft feminine laugh but one that builds and bubbles up from deep inside her. It’s a laugh that leaves her cheeks adorably pink and her chest heaving to pull in breaths.

“A sleen? Maker! That is literally the best thing I’ve ever heard. Yes, absolutely!” She yells over the music as one song shifts seamlessly to the next. The bass pumps in his chest like a second heartbeat. Hound glances over his shoulder to see Ryk and Rule in conversation with Nuna’s friend, also apparently his new friend, Tully. The Pantoran gives him a wink when she catches his eye and he turns back to Nuna quickly.

“Do you wanna drink?” She beats him to the punch. “I feel like after that rescue mission I probably owe you. Also, this song?” She looks up as if the music were an actual entity hovering above them. “I love it.”

Kriff. He was supposed to be the one getting her a drink. Right? He never realized how utterly useless at this he was. No wonder Mouse never gave him the time of day.

That wasn't exactly fair though, was it? Looking back now, Hound can see that his failure had nothing to do with him being himself and everything to do with him not being Commander Fox.

Mouse had eyes for the Commander before she probably even realized it. When it came down to it, the Commander was happy and that made it easier on them all. Al’verde deserved something nice, good, and all his own.

They all did.

“I guess that would be nice, but I don’t want you feeling like you have to because you don’t.”

Nuna rolls her eyes dramatically. “My treat. You can get the next one. Sound like a plan?”

The next one. He liked that idea. He gives her an affirmative nod and her bright smile lights up the darkened club. His chest squeezes uncomfortably and he takes just a moment to wonder what the kriff was going on but then he’s watching her side step through the crowd and he wonders if he shouldn’t have gone with her.

Tully joins him as the pair watch her finally get to the bar.

”Took ages to get her to realize she didn’t look like the wrong end of a Hutt,” Tully offers.

“Huh?” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

“After things went sideways with Alistar and let me tell you they went sideways.” She emphasizes the syllables on the last words as she clarifies.

Hound doesn’t press even though he wants to know. Instead he chooses the next question on his mind.

“Which end is the wrong one?”

“Take your pick.”

He can’t help the grin that crosses his face as he looks over at the Pantoran. She’s grinning back.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because she won’t and she deserves better than the likes of him and his kind of scum. You seem like a good guy.”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. He wasn’t used to compliments outside of the backhanded one he and his vode threw about jokingly. ‘Good guy’ seems like a big deal coming from Tully.

“I try?”

Tully laughs. “No you don’t. It shows when someone is trying. You’re a natural.” Maybe she can sense he’s about to argue because she gives him a serious look. “Deal with it trooper.”

Something about the way she says it tickles him. A bark of laughter rises up in his chest and spills out. “Ok, yeah, roger that Commander.”

“Who’s the Commander now?” Ryk is pressing between the pair, an arm coming to rest on each of their shoulders. Rule is talking up a pretty green twi’lek and in a world of his own a few steps behind them.

“I’m the Commander, pretty boy,” she hums, tapping the younger Sargeant’s nose with a finger.

Ryk turns to Hound with wide, slightly drunk eyes as Nuna slides back up to the group. She hands Hound his drink.

“Did you hear that, Hound dog? I’m pretty.” His head snaps back to Tully.

“You think I’m pretty?”

The smile that fills the Pantorans face is almost feral. “I can think of a few ways you’d be prettier.” The way her eyes trace over his face is unmistakable and Hound hides a cough in his drink. It’s like watching some fragged up mating dance.

“Can you get your hands on some cuffs?” Tully asks sweetly.

Ryk’s jaw nearly hits the liquor sticky floor. “Stasis cuffs? So fast it would make your head spin, beautiful.”

Hound watches the pair, head snapping back and forth. Nuna leans against his side and rises to her toes. She rocks idly to the sound of the music as if it was second nature for her body to find a beat and follow it.

“Do you think he realizes that she would eat him alive?”

“I think he’s kind of into that.”

Ryk was into that. No question about it. It just wasn’t Hounds place to say.

They all had their own proclivities (except for maybe Thire). Ryk just chose to wave his freak flag a little bit harder than the rest.

Nuna chokes off a laugh and takes a drink. Tully, long legged and stunning, was absolutely a hunter on the prowl and tonight 79’s was her natural habitat.

Hound hasn’t seen Ryk so keyed up in ages.

“Good for him,” Nuna says after a long drink, “If she has her way, neither of them will walk straight for a week.” There’s a wistful tone to her voice that throws his mind into immediate overdrive.

He nearly swallows his tongue as he looks down at her. He was used to pretty frank locker room talk. Even shinies who’d only just seen their first woman getting off the transport in the Triple Zero had “stories” to tell.

There was nothing new or fascinating about talking sex. Except… he hadn’t realized that girls - women - could and would talk about it just as openly. The fact that the one he was feeling all google-eyed for was the one doing it made a heat rise up in his cheeks - and then sink low in his belly.

Nuna offers him a sweet smile, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him.

“So do you like to dance?”

Wait a minute she was just talking about- how could she just move past that-

“Uhh, not really. I mean- I really never have. I’m more of a wall holder-upper,” he offers as the DJ of the night begins to morph one song to the next.

“Oh…” she glances at the dance floor, “because I really love this song.”

“I feel like you’ve loved every song you’ve heard,” he teases. Her smile is bashful as she shrugs.

“Occupational hazard?”

“If you want to dance don’t let me stop you. I can hold your drink.” He offers as Nuna bites at her lower lip glancing between him and the pair of Tully and Ryk.

“Ok then... but you can join me if you get bored.”

“Noted,” he says with a laugh as she grabs onto her friend's arm. Ryk pouts as the pretty pink Pantoran blows him a kiss and stumbles to catch up with Nuna’s insistent pull.

”Do you think she’d step on me if I asked really nice?”

Hound’s head whips to the side and the toothy grin of Ryk standing next to him.

“What?!”

“Tully vod, keep up. I would lick that woman’s boots if she told me to.”

“You are a freak. Certifiable,” Hound laughs shaking his head.

The troopers watch silently. Hound sips at his drink and holds Nuna’s safely in the opposite hand. The girls dance close, smiling and laughing as the beat drops. Tully’s hand wraps around the back of Nuna’s waist and holds her close.

It reminds Hound of the affection batted around by his brothers. A playful, physical grounding touch that told a vod that they were cared for. Usually for him it was a sparring match or a quick bit of boxing but for the two women they watched dancing seemed to do the trick.

“While I do find watching can be rewarding in its own right” Ryk says nodding lazily toward Nuna and Tully. “I think participating would be much more rewarding”

Hound grunts as he watches. Nuna’s hips swirl and roll with the beat of the music. It’s kriffing mesmerizing and he can think of nothing better than having his hands on them as they move in tight little circles and figure eights.

“I don’t dance… at least not like that.”

Ryk laughs, “Vod! It’s flash training! If you can’t pick up a simple dance you are a failure as an ARF trooper.”

Just the accusation makes Hound bristle. He’d done far more difficult things during advanced recon training. It was just dancing. It wasn’t that intimidating.

Except he was feeling very intimidated.

Ryk runs a hand over his face before slinging an arm around Hound’s shoulders.

“Listen, you can choose to stay here, but if you do I can guarantee at least one of those shinies over there is going to do it for you.”

Hound's eyes follow Ryk’s line of sight to the group of shines off to their opposite side. Their heads are close together but their eyes are on Tully and Nuna. Watching their mouths, Hound can make out every third or fourth word and he’s not impressed.

Ryk doesn’t let his brother's indecision stop him. Hound watches with frustration as the other trooper makes his way to the two girls and slots in behind Tully. She gives him an appraising look before she relaxes back into his grip. Nuna steps back. While she’s still with the pair she’s definitely on her own. It doesn’t seem to bother her though. She really did seem to enjoy being out there.

Hound glances back to the shinies. One of them is bouncing on his toes while the ones on each side slap at his armor hyping him up.

Uh no. Not happening punk.

It was the sense of pride alone that finally gives him enough courage to move away from their table. He downs both the remainder of his drink and hers as he goes, setting the empties on a passing tray.

Nuna catches him in the flashing lights just as he reaches her. She doesn’t quit moving and he finds it even more distracting up close.

“The wall ok to hold itself up?”

“Yeah, I guess…” he lets out a rough breath.

Flash training, he reminds himself. This was no different than the rapid learning expected of them on Kamino. There wasn’t even any live fire to deal with. He could do this. A warm tingling ignites in his belly as the pair of drinks slosh around.

“I have no clue what I’m doing,” he admits. Nuna offers a soft smile.

“I can help.”

She’s in his space in the blink of an eye, already pressing In close enough where he can feel her body heat through his armor. Her arms move around his neck and he relaxes down just a little to make it more comfortable for them both.

Tully and Ryk are in their own little world just feet away. Hound can see the way his vods fingers flex on her hips. Tully has her head resting back on Ryk’s shoulder and her mouth turned in toward his neck. She’s whispering things that have both of them heavy lidded. Their bodies move together in a precursor of what was probably to come later.

“Hot, right?” Nuna asks looking up with bright mischievous eyes.

Hound is too dumbfounded to speak. She laughs at his silent nod, reaching up and ruffling his hair. She’s less shy now then she’d been earlier, more relaxed and less guarded.

“We’ll get you there.”

Hound stumbles through the next few minutes as she instructs him on the quick-quick-slow steps the music called for. His hands rest high in her waist. It’s frustrating and he knows his nerves are making it worse. Ryk’s chuckle from behind doesn’t do a thing to help.

“Easy on her toes trooper!”

Hound turns his head to bark something at his brother but Nuna’s hand grips his jaw and turns it back to her.

“Be a good boy and pay attention-“ she winces as he steps on her foot, “to me.”

If he wasn’t so embarrassed, he may have noticed how funny it was to have such an unintimidating creature ordering him around but his cheeks are hot and he’s mentally berating himself.

“Hound?” She dips a little lower to catch his eyes that are busy following their feet. “Look at me, not my feet.” She beams when he does as she’s asked and he finds he gets a little lost in the pale blue of her eyes and the way her dark lashes fan across her cheeks each time she blinks.

“That’s much better,” she praises. Her hands slip down over his and press them lower. His pinkies span over the top of the round ass he’s been admiring the better part of the night, while the others rest around her hips.

“You’ll be able to feel me better like this.”

Yeah, he could certainly feel a lot of her this way. No doubt about that. The music slows and transitions to the next song and Nuna makes a sound of approval. The beat is more sedate and the lyrics, though in a language he’s not familiar with, have a sensuality to them that is unmistakable. Nuna’s boot taps at his own.

“Wider stance,” she orders, nodding to herself when he complies. Hound watches as she steps closer, nearly straddling one of his slightly bent legs. His focus is honed in like a laser as she twists her hips slowly. He can feel the bunch and release of muscles in his hands and tries to mimic and mirror what she’s doing, adding the steps tentatively.

Her voice comes out as a purr. “That’s so much better already.”

Her hand slips behind his head and pulls him close til his forehead is pressed to hers. “Now stop thinking and just go with it.”

It’s a novel way to learn something, but it works. Like any other flash training he’s completed something suddenly clicks. The steps become second nature the movements of his own pelvis against hers become smoother.

“You're a good teacher. Has anyone told you that?”

Nuna looks away, hiding a blossom of pink high on her cheeks. It’s Hound’s turn to take control. Fingers trail up her back and tangle in her hair, turning her face back to him.

“You need to learn to take a compliment, Mesh’la.”

Her eyes go wide. Glitter strategically placed on her face catches the flashing lights and sparkles.

“I’m not- I’m not beautiful,” she stutters out, her body falling off rhythm for a second before he takes the lead and guides her back to it.

Couples press in around them, the temperature rising steadily. Hound barely notes it in shock of his own. It doesn’t even register that she’s translated the sweet endearment- a tactic troopers had learned would win women over in a heartbeat. He’s more awestruck that she didn’t see how amazing she was. Not just pretty - though he felt the term fit perfectly.

“Of course you are and fun and nice and-“ her finger presses to his lips stopping anymore words from slipping from his mouth.

“You’re embarrassing me,” she whines playfully, trying to lean back. Hound reels her back in.

“These are things you should hear all the time.” Alcohol and a little bit of confidence from picking up a new skill leaves him feeling a little bolder then he’s been.

“Well that’s definitely one opinion.”

Hound leans in close, nosing next to her ear as her body rolls against his. Her shampoo smells like candy, like something he’d crave time and again after having it. “I think it’s a pretty important one.”

Nuna sighs dreamily, wrapping one leg behind his. His hand drops down to her thigh, feeling where the fabric of her skirt rode up. “So it would seem. Hound-“

He gives her thigh a gentle squeeze. The feel of her so close is more intoxicating than the boozy drinks she’d brought them.

Her voice isn’t any higher than a gentle whisper but this close he can hear desire lacing it. He wasn’t the most experienced of all his vode but he’d certainly had a few… educational ones and what he lacked in experience he had the likes of Ryk and Rule to make up for in reconnaissance.

It’s hard to imagine things not going further with the way she presses against him. The mental images become that much more clear when he releases her leg and she turns in his grip, leaning back against his chest the way he’d seen Tully and Ryk earlier. The way her round ass presses against him makes him both despise and thank the codpiece of his armor. It’s gotten uncomfortably tight, but it was still doing wonders to hide that fact.

One of Nuna’s hands slides up and around the back of his neck and he lets his own trail from her wrist on down her arm before finding its home on her hip. Tiny goosebumps breakout along the trail his fingers leave. When her body rolls next, his stays locked with hers. She tips her head back and glances up at him.

He’s going to lean in and kiss her. With her head upside down. In the middle of a crowded dance floor. Where everyone can see.

The Maker must take pity on him because that’s no way to kiss a girl for the first time and certainly not how he wanted the first of (hopefully) many to go. The song cuts out just as his nose brushes against hers and a soft puff of her breath tickles over his chin. She smells sweet and the honeyed candy scent sticks with him as she pulls away. He wants to know what her mouth tastes like, what her skin tastes like, what her-

“Not bad for your first time,” she hums with big blown pupils as she turns and presses her hands into his chest.

“I’ll take your word on it.”

“Nunz?” Tully slides behind Nuna, bending to rest her chin on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Imma drag this one down to the arcade a level down.” She glances back at Ryk who is smiling like the Tooka who ate the Tik-Tak.

“He says he’s got excellent aim and there’s a stuffed wampa I want. You two wanna come?”

It feels like Tully is asking a different question but Hound isn’t sure how to decipher it. Ryk looks smug, like he already knows the correct answer.

Nuna’s pale blue eyes flash to him for a split second. “I think I’m getting tired. I’ll probably head home in the not so distant future.”

Hound’s heart sinks. Time was not something he had a lot of extra sitting around. He wanted to spend it with her. He’s feeling the creeping of disappointment when he catches Tully’s smile lengthening from ear to ear.

“Hound? You wouldn’t mind seeing her home, right? I’d feel so much better knowing she wasn’t by herself after that run in earlier.”

——-

Nuna hadn’t foreseen this, sitting in the backseat of a speeder taxi pressed against the far door with Hound next to her and a pair of strangers sucking face next to him.

He lets out an irritated puff, the sound coming out augmented through his bucket, as the Rodian and Twi’lek to his right continue to go at it.

“They’re really… enjoying themselves, huh?”

The sound he makes has more humor in it. “Yeah, I wasn’t familiar with Rodian mating habits, but it didn’t mean I needed a crash course.” Hound jerks forward, his bucket coming within centimeters of her own head as she snickers. If looks could kill, she’s sure the one he shoots over his shoulder at the unaware couple would have them both in an early grave.

“Just ignore them.” She offers.

“Yeah? How do I do that?.”

Nuna bites at her lip trying to hold back a smile. “Pay more attention to me.”

The way his helmet quirks, to the side and just a little back, is comical.

It’s another one of those things she’s finding she really does like about Hound. He made her smile. Not even just smile. He made her laugh like she hadn’t in ages and not the sexy girly giggle. No, these were full on belly laughs that made the abs, hidden deep down under a layer of fluff, ache.

The game Tully had been playing hadn’t been subtle and Nuna loved her for it. She hadn’t wanted the night to end after a drink and some dancing. She wanted more. It was exhilarating and nerve wracking in the best possible way. It left her tummy full of butterflies. It had been a let down when the other couple had piled into the taxi behind them. It only got worse when the noises had started.

Nuna wonders, not for the first time, if Hound was blushing as hard under his helmet as she was sitting next to him.

“More attention?” There’s a distinct humor in his voice. The sound of it is warm and inviting. “Maybe something like this?”

Nuna feels the soft nudge of his gloved hand against her own fist balled at her side. She wills her nervous fingers to relax. The second they do Hound is slipping and twining his in between them.

Did all clones radiate so much heat? Nuna can feel the burn of his skin through the thick tactical gloves he wore. Was he warm like that all over? The thought makes her cheeks burn.

“I think that’s a good start,” she murmurs, glancing down at their interlocked hands and avoiding his eyes.

“Looking at me would make it better,” he says quietly, nudging her chin up with his free hand.

It takes a deep breath and another minute of thought before Nuna has it in her to look. His helmet is cocked just slightly to the side and she can imagine him smiling underneath it, all toothy and smug.

“I’m looking now.”

“Looking beautiful.”

A laugh sputters past her lips despite his earnest tone. How was she even supposed to respond to that? He was legitimately being serious and she’s almost afraid to look in the mirror because the person he was seeing really couldn’t be the same one she saw staring back at her everyday. So, instead of thinking harder on it or, you know, accepting the compliment, she does what she’s always done best - deflect.

“Do you wanna maybe come up for some caf?”

“That sounds really good.”

And it was really as easy as that.

The amorous pair next them finds the ability to separate for long enough to give the cabbie notice of their building. It’s a relief to be free of them. Hound moves allowing them more room but his hand doesn’t leave hers. He uses it to bring her along with him, moving her away from the door but allowing no real distance between them. Nuna approves, leaning her head against his armored shoulder as the taxi dips back into the sky lanes.

“That can’t be comfortable”

“It’s not so bad,” she manages, trying to stifle a yawn, “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m aiming for best here Mesh’la.” Not only can she hear his warm voice but she can hear it rumble through his body. Paired with the soft circles his thumb is making in the back of her hand Nuna feels the first traitorous pulls of sleep begin to take hold.

“M’not beautiful,” she hums without any real fight to it.

“Y’are too.” He mimics her speech pattern and Nuna laughs quietly.

“I’m not gonna be able to fight you on this, am I?”

He surprises her when he turns his head and rests his helmet for just a second against the mess of hair he can reach. “You can try. I’m always up for a challenge.”

She should come up with something sassy or witty to say but she’s literally lost for words. Her mind is a perfect blank. So instead she snuggles into plastoid and enjoys the attention.

It’s only another few minutes before the taxi speeder is pulling up to her landing platform and the pair are stepping out. Nuna slips her hand from Hounds long enough to hand a few credits to the driver.

When she turns back to him, Hound is giving her a bewildered look or what she assumes to be bewildered behind the dark visor of his bucket.

“This isn’t the building you had me drop you off at the day we met.”

“Oh… oh! Yeah. That?” Nuna offers him a shy smile. “We don’t let strange men know where we live.”

“We?” If anything, the bewilderment only seems to intensify.

“Women silly,” she pauses as he reaches up to pop the seal on his helmet. She most assuredly does not ogle him as he pulls it off and tucks it under his arm. Her heart definitely doesn’t start beating double time when he runs a hair through the messy strip of hair atop his head and shoots her a sweet smile, waiting for her to continue.

Stars, she was in trouble with this one.

“I guess you really don’t know? You gotta play it safe. Stranger danger and all that? Anything ringing any bells?”

Hound shrugs, good-natured smile firmly in place. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to worry about the dangerous sort. Unless…” his voice turns teasing as he reaches for her hands. “Ms. Skii, do you have anything unsavory planned for me?”

Nuna doesn’t resist when he laces their fingers and draws her in.

“Do I look dangerous to you?”

“You have no idea how dangerous you really are,” he says softly, tipping his head toward her.

Nuna tips her chin up, rises to meet him. Her eyes flutter shut at the warm breath so close that it tickles her lips. Alas, what she assumes to be the best first kiss of her life is thwarted by the blare of a speeders horn.

Because they were still on the platform.

Jumping back she shoots the driver a look that she hoped spoke volumes. She thinks maybe it’s the arms crossed over her chest that has the driver suddenly gesturing in apology but a glance over her shoulder shows an extremely unhappy clone trooper. Her look hadn’t killed, but a few more seconds and maiming was possible from Hound’s

Nuna nearly laughs before latching onto his arm and pulling him into the building and toward the turbo lift. It’s cute because he comes along without any real trying on her part and by the time the lift is in motion, the mean mug has melted back into a grin.

The nerves don’t hit until the lift has stopped. She hasn’t brought a man to this apartment. Ever.

After Alistar she’d made a promise to herself of a fresh start and Tully had said there were openings in her building and the price was right and then natural lighting was to die for and-

It’s been two years since she’s brought a man home and the thought is suddenly terrifying as she leads the way down the hall. Hound is pressed in close. One short step and he’d crash into her back. She wasn’t ready for this. As much as she thought she was, as much as she thought she could bring him home and fool around and do all the fun, reckless things that any single woman her age would be up for doing with such a fine specimen of a man has her bordering on panic with each step she takes.

By the time she’s reaching for the keypad her hand is trembling enough that Hound notices.

“Is something wrong?” Everything about his presence is warm, from the heat he radiates to the rich deep timbre of his voice. It should be perfect, but Nuna just can’t shake her nerves.

“No- I mean. I’ve never brought someone home before for… you know…” She flinches as she turns around and presses her back to the door.

Hound’s brows furrow together before he softens, “For caf? I mean, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to go through the trouble. I’m fine with tea.”

Nuna lets out a shaky laugh, “You nerfherder! You know what I meant-“

“I did- I do and I want you to know I didn’t come here expecting anything from you. I just wanted to spend some more time with you and, if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll say goodnight right now.”

“You're serious?” Nuna asks after a moment's pause, “I mean you’re not going to hit hyperspace trying to get away from me if I don’t want to sleep with you?”

The look of offense that darkens his features is instant. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but” he takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face. His voice gentles, “I like you. I get it. There’s been some scum in your past and I don’t know what you had to go through but know this. I’m not him.”

“Hound, I’m sorry.” He holds his hand up.

“All I ask is that, whether it’s today or tomorrow are a standard month from now, you give me a chance.”

“My turn to be honest,” she says quietly “I’m out of caf but if you still want to I’ve got a comfy couch and a few bottles of ne’tra gal chilled. We can watch something on the Holonet?”

“Ne’tra gal. Like real Mandalorian Ne’tra gal?”

Nuna shrugs as she half turns to finish punching in the access code. The door slides open and the pair enter.

“Yeah, I get it from Ordo’s. Near little Corellia?”

———

Hound feels like he’s gotta be the luckiest trooper that’s this side of wild space. He’s got a bottle of sweet Mandalorian ale in one hand and the other gently stroking the hair of the prettiest girl he's ever met. Nuna looks up at him and gives him a small smile as the next round of commercials start up.

“What?” He takes another quick pull of his Ne’tra gal.

“Just remembering that I’d been about to kiss you earlier.”

“Yeah. Shame that speeder pulled up and ruined it.” He sets the near empty bottle on the end table. Nuna’s eyes flash mischievously. He’d been really worried when they’d gotten to her door earlier that she was going to send him packing immediately. It’s not like he wouldn’t have left the second she said goodnight but he’d hoped, and the Maker had seen fit to give him a small blessing.

They’d been watching and laughing over Holocomedies for over an hour when she’d tucked in close, wiggling slowly up under his arm. She felt right against him, even through the armor he’d refused to shed. If she was nervous just to have him there, he wasn’t about to do anything to encourage further anxiety. The armor stayed on even though the thought of feeling her pressed against his actual flesh and blood body made him a little dizzy.

“Hound?” She cranes her neck up to look at him.

He hums quietly, fingers ghosting over and through her hair. He’s struck again by how soft everything about her was. He wasn’t used to soft. Not on Kamino and not here on Coruscant. Even Grizzer, though he wasn’t complaining, came with a rough and tough hide.

“Yeah?” She squirms out from under his arm and turns on her knees facing him.

“If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“Is this you asking, Mesh’la?”

By Fett and the Maker he hoped this was her asking. Nuna’s chin bobs up and down and she bites back a grin.

He can’t deny one of his own as he leans in slowly.

Her lips are soft as his fall against hers, a test run as his hand cradles the back of her head. She’s soft like flowers though he’s never had much experience with flowers. He should bring her flowers. Something just as special as she is, maybe those little ones he’s seen that smell like summer rain and sunshine.

Nuna sighs softly and Hound opens his eyes to see hers still shut and a pink flush creeping into her round cheeks.

He pecks her again. And again.

Soft feather light brushes that draw more soft sighs from her each time he pulls away. Innocent, teasing brushes of his mouth against hers that have a tension drawing tight in his belly.

When he does finally pull away it takes a moment to realize the trembling he’s feeling is coming from his own hands.

Nuna’s pale eyes flutter open and he’s trapped. A shy smile is tucked away at the corner of her mouth.

“Again please?”

Yeah, he really was the luckiest son of a rancor this side of wild space.

[marauders-venting]

Happy Birthday Moony

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warning: i don’t think there are any but if anybody sees something i should add please let me know

words: 2288

summary: it’s Remus’ birthday and his friends throw him a party. it’s not big or chaotic, just his close friends. Remus prefers it that way. but despite how much he has been enjoying this day, he can’t stop thinking about Sirius, pining for him. but Remus is determined not to let those feelings get in the way.

a/n: this is the first oneshot i’ve written. it’s definitely not my best piece of work and i’m not sure how much i like it. but i was determined to post something for remus’ birthday so here it is. i hope some people enjoy it (although i don’t really have any followers so i don’t know who i expect to see this but if you do read it, i’m open to any comments/tips/criticism from anybody but please be nice)(also i hope i did the tags right)

Remus was watching Sirius. He couldn’t help it. It was his birthday after all. He should be allowed to watch whomever he wanted to. He stared at the line of Sirius’ jaw, the curve of his lips, the sparkle in his blue-grey eyes, the flush in his cheeks as he took another sip of alcohol. Remus watched Sirius, he noticed these things, but he was constantly reminding himself that Sirius was not his to watch.

He had had a good day, really he had. His friends had decorated their dorm with balloons and banners for his birthday, they had showered him with birthday wishes and gifts, they threw him a party but not something big and loud; it was just Remus’ friends, the other three marauders and Lily, Mary, Marlene, Dorcas and Alice. Remus preferred it that way, smaller, fewer people. But the size didn’t make the celebration any less of a party. There was music being played, dances being dances, songs being sung, games being played, alcohol being drunk. Remus was happy. But if he was happy, why couldn’t he stop thinking about his unrequited crush for one second?

Peter had brought a cake from the kitchens. Nobody knew how he managed to get it but nobody was questioning or complaining about his methods. There were sixteen candles on the cake.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” Alice said as Remus blew out the candles. Remus didn’t make a wish. He didn’t believe in making wishes. When he was younger, he used to wish for the same thing every birthday: that his lycanthropy would go away. But the years passed and Remus’ wish never came true, so Remus stopped making wishes altogether. It was easier to just not hope for anything. But if Remus was given a single wish right now, he’d wish for Sirius, that Sirius would love him in the same way that he loved Sirius. And every moment that Remus spent staring at Sirius made it more and more difficult to accept that he’d never get his wish.

So Remus tries to refocus his attention on the conversation.

“James, pass me a beer,” Marlene said, holding out her hand. James tosses her a beer and she tries to catch it but doesn’t even come close. She picks it up off the floor, magicks the cap off and takes a sip.

“Marlene, did you just miss a catch?” Lily asks, her shock dramatically exaggerated.

“I did not,” Marlene insists, her arms crossed.

“How drunk are you, Marlene?” Remus asks, smirking.

“Better be careful, Marly,” Dorcas says. “If you drop the Quaffle like that at next week's match, James will kick you off the team.”

“Hey, I am not that mean,” James protests. “I wouldn’t kick her off the team.” Dorcas snorts.

“No, no he’s right,” Peter says, seriously. “He wouldn’t kick Marlene off the team, he’d have her head. And then he wouldn’t need to kick her off the team because headless people can’t play Quidditch.”

“You guys are being ridiculous; I’m not that bad,” James says defensively. “I just… really like winning. So I get a little bit strict.”

“Yeah, ok,” Sirius snorts. Then he goes into full story-telling mode. “It was our third year. We lost the match to Ravenclaw because that one kid, Dawson, tried to hit the Bludger at Ravenclaw’s seeker but missed and they caught the snitch. Afterwards, James, you come up to me and say, and I quote, ‘Dawson should be kicked off the team.’ And I was like, ‘ok mate, don’t you think that’s kind of harsh?’ And you just shrugged and said, ‘it’s what I would do if I were the captain’. Just cause he messed up! One time! So yeah, you are that bad, Prongsie.”

“Wha— how do you even remember— oh you know what, fuck all of you,” James grumbles.

“Don’t worry, we all still love you,” Sirius adds, reaching out his hand to ruffle James' hair. He stands up to get another slice of cake and Remus’ eyes linger on him until continuing to stare at Sirius would have meant having to turn his head 180 degrees.

“I’m bored,” Mary says. “Let’s play a game.”

“Truth or Dare,” Lily pipes up. Peter groans.

“That is literally the worst game on the planet,” he says. “And we always play it.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Lily says, glaring at him. Peter says nothing. “Didn’t think so. Truth or Dare it is. Remus, it’s your birthday so you can ask first.”

“Ok,” Remus says. “Alice, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Fuck, I thought you’d say Dare. Damn it, I don’t have any good Truths for you.”

“Oh, oh, I have one,” Dorcas says. She leans towards Remus and whispers the Truth in his ear.

“Fine,” Remus says. “But only because I couldn’t think of anything better. How long have you liked Frank and when exactly do you plan on asking him out?” Alice turns red and slaps Dorcas on the arm. Dorcas cackles.

“Oh come on, it was so obvious,” she says. “Now answer the question.”

“Fine. I’ve liked him for… I don’t know. A couple of weeks maybe? I’m not keeping track. And I plan on asking him out never,” Alice says. “My turn.”

“Wait, what? Why won’t you ask him out?” Sirius’ voice comes from right behind Remus, making him jump. “Sorry Moony,” Sirius adds, putting his hand on Remus’ shoulder, steadying him. Remus still feels the touch even after Sirius removes his hand. He tries to shake it off.

“Pads, have you ever met Alice?” Remus says, turning around to face him. “When was the last time she asked out a guy?” Alice was pointing at Remus, indicating that he was exactly right.

“But why not?” Sirius asked.

“Because,” Alice said. “I don’t know. It’s too nerve-wracking. If he likes me, then he’ll ask me out. And if not then I’ll just move on, I guess?”

“Or you could just ask him out yourself,” Mary chimed in.

“Or not,” Alice says. “It’s my turn now, so shush. Dorcas—” Alice turns to face her, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” Dorcas says.

“I dare you to stand up on the bench at breakfast tomorrow, cast Sonorus on yourself and start singing a Muggle song.”

“Challenge accepted,” Dorcas says. “But I don’t know any Muggle songs so one of you is going to have to find me one.”

“I have one for you,” Mary says. “Dancing Queen by ABBA.”

“Oooooo yes,” Lily says, nodding in agreement.

“Teach it to me then,” Dorcas says.

“I can play it now.” Mary taps the record player sitting in the corner of the common room with her wand and the song starts playing. The girls stand up and start dancing and James joins in before long. Remus waits for Sirius to do the same, given that Sirius never misses the opportunity to show off his dancing skills. But he doesn’t.

“Remus,” Sirius’ voice whispers from behind him. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks, still keeping his voice down

“Sure.” Sirius takes Remus by the arm and pulls him towards the stairs of the dormitories. The others are too caught up in the singing and the dancing to notice them leaving. The touch of Sirius’ hand on Remus’ bare arm is enough to make Remus dizzy. It burns and Remus craves more. He wants more than arms touching, more than accidental bumps of the hand.

“I wanted to give you your birthday present,” Sirius says, after closing the dormitory door. He hands Remus a beautifully wrapped package. Remus slowly opens the wrapping paper, careful not to tear any of it. Inside is a book. A book that Remus had been talking about non-stop for the past five months. It was by his favourite Muggle author and had been published just two days ago.

“Sirius,” Remus says, turning over the book in his hand, “how did you even get this?” Sirius shrugs.

“On Wednesday I snuck into Hogsmeade, took that Muggle thing that you taught me how to ride—”

“A bus?”

“Yes, that thing. I found the nearest bookshop and waited with a crowd of people until they finally opened and, y’know, shoved people out of the way so I could get a copy before they ran out. Mind you, I’m pretty sure I nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy when I paid for it. I've got no clue how to use Muggle money. I’m pretty sure the guy at the cash register thought I was insane.”

“Sirius,” Remus says again, “this is just… incredible. Absolutely incredible. You are incredible. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Sirius says shrugging. “But I wanted to. You deserve it, Remus. Also, this was the only way to get you to shut up about that goddamn book.” Remus laughs.

“If you think that I’m going to shut up about it now that I actually have it you are sorely mistaken,” Remus says and now it’s Sirius’ turn to laugh. Remus catches himself staring at the way Sirius’ mouth looks when he laughs. The way the edges of his lips curve up into a smile before they part, revealing white teeth; the way Sirius’ grey eyes light up, the smile in his eyes just as telling as the smile in his mouth; the way the happy, bubbly sound of Sirius’ laughter makes Remus’ glow inside.

Remus looks away, his face flushed. He shouldn’t be thinking like this.

“I have one more present for you,” Sirius starts, and Remus can hear his voice shake ever so slightly, “But only if… only if you want it.” Remus is facing Sirius but his head is tilted towards the ground. He can’t quite meet Sirius’ eye.

“Pads, you’ve given me more than enough…”

“Shhh,” Sirius says, and he places a finger on Remus’ lips to silence him. It works. Remus has been effectively shocked into silence. He feels frozen like he couldn’t say another word even if he wanted to.

“Remus,” Sirius whispers. “Look at me.” He tilts Remus’ chin so Remus has no chance but to look Sirius in the eyes. “Look at me.” And then, without warning, without a second’s hesitation, Sirius kisses him. And Remus freezes on the spot. For a moment, Sirius has very literally taken his breath away. But as soon as Sirius’ thumb brushes his cheek, Remus feels himself relaxing. And it feels familiar even though it’s new. It feels so right. But just as Remus’ is getting used to the feeling of Sirius’ lips on his, Sirius pulls away almost as quickly as he came in. Remus feels frozen again. Like he can’t move a single muscle in his body. But inside this frosty exterior, a fire is raging, wanting more. More of Sirius’ burning touch that fuels the flames, more of his lips that melt the world as they connect with Remus’. More of Sirius. His disappointment at the abrupt end of the kiss must show on his face. But Sirius completely misinterprets it.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says, backing away from Remus and shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why… I’m sorry Remus. Just forget about it.” This snaps Remus out of his frozen state.

“No, no, no please don’t be sorry,” he says, begging Sirius to have meant the kiss. “Please, please don’t be sorry, Sirius.” And Remus feels like words are failing him because he can’t express how much he needs Sirius to have wanted that kiss, how much he needs the wanting that he felt in that kiss to be real for Sirius too. He can’t express it in words, but Sirius is looking at him with his penetrating grey eyes and he’s still so close. Close enough to kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asks. Sirius’ eyes meet his. He nods. So Remus does. He gives in to the fire, he gives the fire exactly what it wants. And Sirius gives him more this time too. Sirius’ hands find Remus’ neck. They travel down to his back, slowly making their way to Remus’ waist. So Remus’ hands, seemingly of their own accord, slide up into Sirius’ hair, pulling Sirius in, taking more and more. And all the while, their lips are pressed together and when Remus’ lips part in a sigh he feels his face heat but Remus barely has time for self-conscious thoughts before Sirius is slipping his tongue into Remus’ mouth, making all of the thoughts slip out of Remus’ brain; Sirius is all that remains. Sirius is all that there ever was, all that there is and all that there ever will be. And Remus is perfectly fine with that. And when they finally break apart, they’re both breathless.

“I love you, Remus,” Sirius says, his fingers grazing Remus’ cheek. “I’m in love with you.” Remus feels his breath catch (yet again) because no, this is too good to be true.

“Are you drunk?” Remus asks.

“I’m drunk enough that I had the guts to do this,” Sirius says, shrugging, “but not so drunk that you should have any reason not to believe me when I tell you that I’ve wanted this for so long. That I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asks and his voice comes as a whisper because that’s all he can muster.

“Positive.”

“I love you too,” Remus says. He takes Sirius’ hand, letting their fingers lace together and feeling a warmth spread from the tips of his fingers to the rest of his body.

“Happy birthday, Moony,” Sirius says, leaning in to kiss Remus again, granting the birthday wish that Remus had been too afraid to make.

[shintorikhazumi]

Honey

A/N: Clearly, based on Kehlani’s song. Also, One, I did not try to learn the song on guitar just for this fic… Two, this may or may not be an advertisement to the Pole Dancing! AU I’m planning once I’ve completed A Warm Diana. That pole dancing au is completely separate from that one-shot I released, “Dance For Me.”, though it’s possible that a chapter may be named as such. Been a while since I did a songfic so… woot. The events here probably won’t happen in the final AU tho, but the world details are shared~. Not as much pole dancing as the last, sorry

Dedicated to @kagarikhylev, thank you! I said last, last weekend but I got swamped by college starting up again, all the LWA reposts to ao3 since I’m behind, and just generally… being distracted by a lot of things, so deepest apologies.

This fic may or may not be good. I am screwed because I have a 7am quiz and it’s 9:48pm, and I did not study a thing. Priorities, amiright? My concentration is busted.

Also. Diana is an idiot.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 Honey

“I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish…”

She walks through the halls, following the echoing of unfamiliar lyrics against the empty corridor. The clock ticks just that bit closer to five in the afternoon, and the east wing is relatively empty, save for the presence of a voice carrying that pleasant tune, and words that pique her interest. At the moment, she should be on her usual search for her friend who has been avoiding her like a pandemic these past few days, but her body is keen on taking a detour, her ears the leader that guides her whole way. Eventually, she finds herself standing in front of the sliding door to one of the dance course’s practice rooms. She expects that to be here, seeing as the music programs featuring vocal and instrumental courses held their classes on the opposite side of the large building, according to the map posted down the hall.

What she isn’t expecting is the singing present in the air. Because why would singing come from here? From a dance major?

While singing might not be solely reserved for the ones actually studying it, it is a rarity for occasions such as this to happen in a school that had students ready to ridicule anyone not up to par with their personal standard of skill. This holds especially true for those majoring in classical music as they often have their heads lifted high, considering their genre to be ‘superior’ to the rest.

So, she understands why theater children stick to theater, why dance majors stick to moving their bodies to the beat, and why people aiming to get into Philharmonic- much like her- only stick to performing and doing what they do best, in-and-out of class hours.

Here, in this institution, resides a slightly toxic, competitive atmosphere that forces you to give your all for your craft, and not insult others by dabbling in their own specialties half-heartedly. There is no encouragement, there is no beautiful rivalry.

Or at least, that’s what she’s known since entering both vocal and instrumental programs. As a flutist, in particular, there remains quite a bit of competition for seats in their prestigious school’s main touring orchestra, so auditions that may as well be full-blown battles were common. The dance majors always look so friendly from afar, though; maybe they are different.

And maybe that’s why they remain the school’s outcasts.

Breathing out her thoughts into a puff of air to clear her mind, she peeks through the small window of the room’s door. Her eyes widen in surprise, but pink lips tip into a fond smile as she spots a familiar tuft of brunette hair in that signature hairstyle she knew all too well. The one she’s been looking for.

‘What a treat.’

She leans heavier on the glass, pressing her ear against the door, believing it might allow her to hear this secret serenade better.

“I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous-“

In the light of the late afternoon sun, the singer is enchanting, magical. Reflected through ocean blues, she always has been. Ever since they first met. But something’s changed. There is a different kind of blossoming taking place in the musician’s heart. She doesn’t understand it. But she wants to. However, she wants to understand it with that particular girl- singing with abandon on the floor, antique guitar in her lap- by her side, but being avoided doesn’t make her need any easier to satisfy.

She doesn’t understand it at all. Why she can’t solve it on her own. She doesn’t understand why she’d being avoided either.

Hums ease the creases that have subconsciously formed on her forehead, the gentle voice tickling her ears pleasantly. It eases a weight off her soul, and she relishes in the ambience of the present hour.

She would have loved to listen for much longer had she not accidentally placed her full weight on the door at the wrong angle, sliding it open with a very audible screech. And the next thing she knows, she’s falling forward, and the floor comes up, about to give her a kiss she won’t forget, and it’s not the one she would have preferred.

But no, that should not happen. If her moniker of ‘Miss Perfect’ was anything to go by, she is sure she can do anything. Including catching herself against the now stuck door, leaving her bent in an awkward posture, face hovering inches off the floor. The sudden chain of actions has her heart jump up to her throat, all the calm air in her lungs stolen by shock. She remains in an awkward position for a while longer, gathering her bearings, and thankful she didn’t injure herself with what had just occurred. The room’s occupant is just as surprised as she is, apparently.

Shaking away her initial wide-eyed expression and donning an appreciative smile, she poses a casual statement, trying to brush off the awkward situation as she stands up to her full height, brushing imaginary dust off her jacket at the same time.

“I didn’t know you could play the guitar.”

There’s a curious pause, wine-red eyes stunned at the brash intrusion to her solo afternoon world. The perpetrator feels her toes clench in nerves, hidden behind closed shoes. She’s hoping her companion wouldn’t just… stare. She’s certain those eyes have a million questions running amok in her pretty little head, but she is beginning to feel the heat rising its steady course up her face, and is unsure she could handle this atmospheric pressure any longer.

By some deity’s saving grace, there’s a blink to reboot the mind of those same questioning eyes, the room’s initial occupant finally managing a response. “It’s a little hobby… I almost didn’t hear you come in.” Stood by the door, the newcomer wonders if that was meant to be a joking or a literal statement.

“And you never said you could sing.”

“I don’t.” The guitar is kept to the side, in a place hidden from the immediate view of anyone casually visiting the room. “I dance, is what I do.”

“I know.”  The flutist replies as casually as she strives to look in these strange moments; she hopes to keep the conversation flowing, to keep the person in front of her from leaving her side again. “I watch you.”

“Of course, you do.”

  //-//-//-//-//

She wonders what the song is all week. It replays over and over in her head in class. It haunts her dreams at night, and plagues her in the waking hours. She even unconsciously hums it while doing her homework in the library. This leaves her friend, Hannah, wide-eyed.

And she appears to be wide-eyed as well.

“Diana!” Is the harsh whisper in her ear. She doesn’t like the feeling of hot air there, but her astonishment at the fact that this song has now consumed her renders her the tiniest bit numb.

“What.” Diana replies just as quiet, but softer in delivery.

“Why are you singing that?” The brunette queries, voice no longer a whisper, and away from Diana’s ear, but low enough to not be overheard by anyone else in the vicinity. She doesn’t look mad, nor is she upset. Diana takes note of this. She’s merely… very, very befuddled.

“Is something the matter? I think I like the tune.”

“…”

“Hannah?”

“Do you really not know what that song is about?” Is the bewildered reply. “I mean… I know you aren’t that straight, m’lady…or at all…” The last part, she whispers under her breath. “but… like… I didn’t think you would expose yourself like this?”

With the faintest flush on her cheeks, Diana responds in confusion. “What are you saying? Am I not supposed to like this song?”

The shorter girl is taken aback slightly. “N-no, you can like… it. Just… your voice professor would have a heart attack if she hears you sing that and knows the song, so let’s not. Okay? Not in public, at least. Especially with your status.” She huffs, then whips her head back up, recalling something. “Don’t play it on you flute either. I see Barbara wasn’t lying when she freaked out earlier at lunch telling me about this.”

“I still fail to understand the problem?” Diana states, impatient as her foot taps on the wooden floorboards.

“Of course. Because you’re dense.” Is the offensive reply she gets. Before she can retort, or pose further question, Hannah takes her by the hand, clearing up all their stuff single-handedly with the other, showcasing surprising efficiency; and she drags her friend right out of the area.

As they turn into a relatively empty hall, the heiress’ hand is released, and she walks side-by-side with her friend who releases a snort that is succeeded by a fit of giggles that are quickly replaced with bouts of laughter. The brunette bends over, hitting her knees, tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Diana, you utter idiot.”

“Wha-“

All too quickly, the laughs dissipate and a serious Hannah slaps her hand on Diana’s shoulders in a firm grip.

“I would have hoped you’d look up the lyrics if you recalled them, but then again, you’re hopeless with technology. Or if you only heard the tune… well, I guess that’s understandable too.” The brunette patted her cheek fondly.

“It’s called Honey.” And Hannah finally tells her the title she’s been seeking; feeling grateful she hugs her friend.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Will I die tomorrow?”

“You overreact.” Diana rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“Don’t listen to it too much that you become addicted. Don’t want to catch you at the head of even more rumors than you already are.” Her shorter friend teases, picking up the materials she dropped earlier as she made a grab at Diana. “I’m serious.”

“Do you doubt my self-control?”

“After meeting her, what I do doubt is if you have much left.”

Diana splutters, chasing after the fleeing imp sticking her tongue out at her.

She’ll get back at her.

Hannah is rarely right over her, after all.

  //-//-//-//-//

Hannah is right, after all.

Immediately after reaching her room, Diana had looked it up; her barely cooperating fingers carefully typing in five simple letters… that soon became nine with a space between the previous ones and new ones as she clearly knows that she’s not looking to view videos of bees and liquid gold in glass jars.

And after the first click, she’s defeated. She listens to it over and over.

And over.

And over.

And over again.

//-//-//-//-//

[“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”]

The video plays on her phone for the thirtieth time that day. Considering that it is barely noon, with classes in between this time and the moment she woke up, that’s probably a lot of repeats. It isn’t unhealthy yet. Right?

And she likes the song. It plays well in the background as she does her homework. She’s too distracted for the lyrics to register properly in her mind anyway.

So a woman was singing about her companion who she seemed to be very loyal to. Just as Diana was to her new best friend. The singer also appeared to be bragging about their charm… and their preferences on women’s attitudes? Or visuals? Did this person like green-skinned ladies?? Who happened to be jealous and tasted sweet? Diana always thought the skin had a more… salty flavor to it.

Maybe she should ask what her new friend, Akko, thinks about this. She has been slowly sharing bits and pieces of her world to the unknowing prodigy, and she always likes hearing the brunette’s opinion on various subjects. Akko’s opinion.

Ah, yes. Akko. Right.

And Diana goes back to that afternoon with Akko and the guitar. The catalyst for this strange addiction to Honey. Not the food, she added to herself. The song.

The song, yes, now entering the thirty-first cycle. As the words came to play with the dancing melodies, Diana muses that the lyrics certainly suit the girl who had introduced this wonderful song to her.

[“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”]

And she reaches this part once more, still thinking of the one named Kagari Atsuko. The dance major, and her newest best friend. Friend. Yes, that’s what her other friends had said. She's been spending far too much time; sparing too much attention on her… friend, so they were a little lonely.

She digresses.

Anyway. Akko. Yes. She may not be much of a wreck– scratch that, maybe she was. Diana chuckles. Nevertheless, as the lyrics preach over and over, she was a beautiful one. Incredibly so.

She is all the vivid colors of the world, incredibly funny. Diana is not one for comedy, but Akko pulls laughs out of her with fabulous ease.

She closes her eyes, seeing that loveable face blinding her with the brightness of the sun, encompassing her with its warmth, and inspiring her each day. What an amazing friend.

As blues are revealed to the world behind the fluttering of thick lashes, she takes in the vast rehearsal room designed for the practices and assessments of the dance majors for ballroom. It houses a piano and a few of the larger percussion instruments for the live accompaniment of collaborating music majors. It also serves as the general area of practice for when the school would prepare for their showcases and events. Or well, this room used to be all of that. Now, it simply remains as a spare practice and storage room.

After the students had fallen into an unfixable dispute due to their hardheadedness towards their differences, collaborations seldom happen. When they do occur, they are looked down upon by the rest of the body. It was a shameful ordeal, supposedly.

It is a shame, Diana agrees. That they would sacrifice the beauty of performance for pride.

Only the people who come to utilize all this free space clean it before and after using. That is rare as well. Anyone who reserves this room becomes the target of rumors to want to unify a broken crowd.

And nobody wants that. That’s what the populace says.

The poor unused floorboards, the scarcely maintained instruments and tools… and here she sits at the aforementioned sad piano, lid sliding open, fingers splaying across ivory keys. She punches a note. And another, and the tune that has been imprisoned in her mind- or has it imprisoned her mind- is now escaping into the air, into the theme that fills her senses. She first tests it out with just the melody on one hand, but then her left comes to join in the only dance she really knows how to do.

This moment is hers alone. No one can come to break it.

Hannah can’t complain if she goes against her advice and performs the song for no one anyway.

A beautiful song for a beautiful no one.

She caresses it like a ballad, hands deftly sweeping over the keys, light and gentle.

Piano used to be her first love. Her mother loved it more. After she passed, Diana had lost many competitions, and she was forbidden from touching one ever again.

Only in secret could she stroke her lover’s keys, that beautiful ivory, that shimmering black. Only in secret could she kiss the melodies with all her affection, press down with the right pressure to allow the instrument to voice its beautiful moan of music.

Only in secret would could she play this song on repeat; only in secret could she play it herself; only in secret could she think on the lyrics well; only in secret would she link every syllable to one girl.

Only in secret could she wish she were here.

Only in secret could she realize and admit,

“I love you… Akko…”

--

A clanging sound, loud, metallic.

There’s a pole rolling on the floor, and the sound of shuffling, a figure scrambling to gather her belongings now scattered everywhere.

“…Akko.”

“Diana. Hi.” Rubies flit about, landing temporarily on anything not Diana. “You… were practicing… a thing?” Her voice is choked, its timbre pitched higher than the usual. “I guess I should leave you-“

“NO!” She doesn’t mean to yell, but her desperation has the better of her. She only has so little time to stop the girl from escaping her again. “S-stay. I… I mean… stay? Please stay? Please Stay.” She says the same words in different ways and tones, unsure. “Don’t… leave me.”

A nod is the only movement the frozen body can manage. There’s this stillness between them before Diana pushes out words from her frenzied mind.

“C-come here?” She pats the bench beside her awkwardly, not knowing if her invitation was a welcome one. She breathes a sigh of relief when Akko places her things to the side, neatly against the wall before walking up to her, standing by the bench, staring at the hand still covering the seat.

She hesitates.

“Sit?”

She does. She leaves a hand’s-width of space between them.

And it’s a painful silence.

One Diana tries to break.

“Hi.” She seeks her eyes.

“Hi.” They don’t seek hers. “What did you call me here for?” Akko asks nervously, feet shuffling against the floor.

Think fast, Diana. Anything to make her stay longer.

And it’s only honey on her mind once more. Her saving grace. “C-Could you sing that song for me once more?” Akko looks like she’s having difficulty recalling. “The one I walked in on...”

Akko bites her lip nervously as she contemplates that, and Dear mother of Cavendish Diana finds that so attractive.

“I don’t… think I know what you’re talking about.” The dancer plays dumb.

But Diana wants her plan of… whatever she’s trying to do… to work. So, her mind, as helpful as it is, hides the memory of the title she’s replayed over and over. She tries to tell her the song anyway. As best she can.

“It’s… it’s the one about loyal friendship.”

“F-friendship?” If Akko had been playing dumb earlier, she no longer was. She doesn’t recall singing a song about friendship…

“And the singer boasting of their charm… and their… preferences for women, I suppose? Or maybe it’s not friendship. Companionship? Partnership? The one where… something about jealousy and sweetness and colors, and flying- and dear Beatrix, I deeply apologize for my incompetence, Akko…” Diana covers her face in a shame that’s burning the blonde alive.

Silence.

“Pffft- what the hell Diana, ahahahaha.” Akko finally loosens all that tension she imposes on Diana, relenting. Diana was just too irresistible. Knocking lightly against the music major’s head, she makes known the song’s name once more. “It’s called Honey.”

She doesn’t understand this sudden change in mood, in mind, but Diana now has the opportunity to play it cool, her plan of keeping Akko there, having Akko want to stay there is working. So despite not understanding, she welcomes this in comparison with the cold she’s received as of late.

“O-Oh? I didn’t know that.” But of course, Diana does. Clearly.

“Well, you do suck at using your phone. And your laptop. And the internet.”

“Akko!”

And there’s that pretty pink flush on her face once more, annoying her.

“Fine.” Akko says.

“Huh?”

“I’ll sing it.”

“Y-you will?!” Diana finds herself standing excitedly, hands clutching Akko’s.

“Wow, you really must want to hear that song.”

“I… I’ve been a little curious…”

Akko smiles that gorgeous, honest smile. “I can see that.” She gets up as well, facing Diana, but then remembering something. “Ah! But… what time is it… I was supposed to be practicing for the show at the bar later, and I have class in-” The time read two pm, on the dot. “Shit, I only have an hour, and I have to leave for my job right after the lesson…”

That explains the pole she had with her.

It was no secret to Diana that Akko had gone to school here at Luna Nova against her parents wishes. Akko also worked a night job, pole dancing in secret. It was- is her passion. Not to entice people into desiring her body, by any means, but to tell a story of grace, honor, sensuality, and honesty through her dance.

And the medium Akko chooses is the pole.

“Oh, I know!” The brunette interrupts her reverie. “How ‘bout you play the song again, and I’ll practice to it. The music I was going to use has roughly the same tempo, I think.”

“…are you going to sing while dancing?” Diana speaks to the retreating back that moves to prepare her set-up, Akko loosening a secret portion of wood on the floor away to reveal a hole that would snuggly hold her practice pole in place.

“Eh, why not?” She shrugs, nonchalantly and Diana is amazed by her as always. “Two birds with one pole, or something.”

“Stone.”

“Same thing.”

Finishing her little stage, Akko smiles in triumph, chucking her jacket and jogging pants to the side without a care. Not even for Diana who pries her eyes away from toned muscle.

“Ready when you are.”

Diana isn’t, but she plays for Akko’s sake anyway. Her hands traverse the keys on instinct, eyes on the slender figure that begins its preliminary moves in grace and desire.

Red meets blue and the show starts.

  “I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet~

A little selfish”

It’s a simple twirl about the pole, with a wink thrown in, but Diana thinks it’s the most spectacular motion already.

“I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous”

And there’s the pleasant laugh she adores.

“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”

Akko sings in that strong voice, as she runs her hands through her hair, shaking the strands loose as she prances around the metal shaft before clutching onto it, allowing herself to fly through the air. By the next line, she’s sliding down painfully slow, body pressed against the reflective equipment in the room, eyes locked with Diana’s. A hand clutches the thin fabric barely covering her chest, the other reaching out to pull Diana in, only strong legs keeping her up.

“Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet

With a stone-cold neck, yeah, I'm charmin'”

‘You truly are…’ Diana says to herself, her heart starting to physically hurt with the desire to touch, and to hold in her arms. That smile shot at her was simply unfair.

“All the pretty girls in the world

But I'm in this space with you”

For a second, Diana feels as though Akko were speaking these words to her for real. That idea makes it that much tighter in her chest. There was no way. That Akko finds her appealing like that, that she would choose to stay with Diana here… Diana… hadn’t forced her to do this little thing they were having at the moment, right?

“Colored out the lines

I came to find, my fire was fate with you”

‘Fate…’ Her sight turns bleary, but she doesn’t understand why. Warmth traces after the wetness that rolls down one cheek. And that hand surprises her, cupping her cheek, prompting her to look up into emotional pools of red that are very, very close. Their proximity is far too close. “Wha-“ When had Akko…

“Heartache would stay with you

Fly great escapes with you, oh…”

-are the murmured lyrics, breaths ragged puffs of air brushing against her parted lips. A hand rested over her own that had now crumpled the cloth of her shirt over her chest, fist gripped tightly.

“You… stopped…hah… playing… Diana.” Akko gets out, breathing uneven the sudden change of her moving body to its stationary state.

Ah. She has. Her other hand is simply resting on the keys, motionless. She feels kind of bad now, to have cut Akko’s practice performance short; but she can’t even work a reply out. Her lips tremble, facial muscles feel wobbly.

“Hmm… that’s no good. I can’t complete your request without your help.” Akko muses, taking a deep breath of air as she pulls away from the shaken heiress. Index finger of her free hand tapping against her cheek, her eyes lit up in realization. “I know!”

“H-huh…?”

“Diana.” At the call of her name, she offers her attention. “Come dance with me.”

“W-wait, I can’t-“

But it’s too late for that, and she’s easily dragged by the overwhelming force of Akko’s strength built from the foundation of dancing and every other physical activity she must have done to mold her body into the shape that it is now. Striking, alluring, lean, and every bit the exquisite art that Diana sees it as.

And now said art presses against her back, pushing her against the cold metal Akko clings on to on a regular basis. Hands guide her own to grasp the bar, and soon they slowly spin. A soft voice hums into her ear, those sounds turning into the lyrics she’s far past memorizing now.

They are engraved in her very heart.

“I countdown to the clock, saw you awake

Don't walk away, or would you wait for me?”

How ironic that Akko should sing this for her. When Diana has been the one pleading for her to stay day by day- maybe not in words, but in her gestures, in her eyes, in her sighs. How hurtful she was being, when Diana has been the one seeking after her. When Diana is already the one waiting.

How cruel, Akko.

“I go out to the bar, fuck hangin' with the stars

Don't even have a car, but you would wait for me, mm-hmm”

A shiver crawls up her neck, tiny hairs upright as Akko’s lips vibrate against the skin there as she hums the end of the line. The touch is ghostly, barely there, but Diana knows. She knows.

It was painful.

So, so painful for Diana.

Akko feels that pain as it drips onto the arm she has wrapped around Diana’s waist, the girl curling into herself as she bites her lip to keep her sobs trapped within.

“I-I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what’s come over me, I should just!” She wants to escape. Just escape and run from the confusion that hangs in shadows over her clarity.

But Akko doesn’t let her.

Quickly, she’s in a tighter hold, a gentler hold; the scent of strawberries and sweat permeating the bubble of air they are locked in. Her eyes see black as a hand goes over to cover them; she feels Akko’s movements through the back of her shirt.

They make another twirl.

Everything in her heart stirs along with the motion; it aches.

“All, all, all…”

Diana waits for those familiar lyrics to go on, each word digging painfully into her, because, in the end, that’s all they are. Lyrics. Lyrics that make her realize just what it is that draws her like a moth to the everlasting brightness that is Kagari Atsuko.

What it is that keeps her listening, if only to fuel her imagination when all these lines point to the same girl, painting pictures in her dreams of them walking aimlessly on a street, Akko smiling at her, laughing with her. So beautifully.

“…all the pretty girls in the world…”

She braces herself for the same old lines, ones that mean nothing but the words to catchy music.

“But they don’t compare to you.”

And they don’t come. The change of words had her whip her head up, craning her neck to look behind her, puzzled; Akko had already hidden herself against Diana’s nape. Those… That’s… not… how she remembered the song…

“You’re the color of my life

I’d battle fate if it meant I’d stay with you”

“That’s…”

“My heart aches; it longs for you”

“That isn’t…”

…

“…I know I’m in love with you.”

And Akko releases her, stepping away from the pole, and from her. It’s all cold again, freezing the blood that pumps through her veins after the bombardment to her senses.

“I’m sorry.” There are tears in Akko’s eyes now. And she just stops singing altogether. “I’m sorry.” Her voice loses that melody, now replaced by sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s…”

“You must have realized, right? What I’m feeling.” She smiles grimly. “Ugly, dirty… wrong feelings… for someone like my best friend… and… I’m sorry I made you cry. You must have felt creeped out and harassed, huh? You must have been scared because I wouldn’t let you go…”

“That isn’t, that’s-“

“I’m sorry, forcing myself onto you after being so cold. I… I didn’t mean to avoid you, I just-“ She meets the confusion that clouds the sky in Diana’s eyes. “I didn’t want you to know if by chance you didn’t feel the same way.”

“That’s…”

“I… when I came into the room, I thought I’d heard wrong. What you said… the… c-confession…” Akko clenches her eyes shut, willing the tears away. “But then you said the song was about friends, so I probably have the wrong idea, and you might have just meant that you… l-love me as a friend.” She sniffles. “So, I’m sorry. I just…” I sob rips its way past the barriers of her lips, and more tears spill down apple-red cheeks. “I didn’t want you to find out like this… but I’ve… for so long…”

A beat passes, and Akko’s teary hiccups, and the pair’s mismatched breathing are the only sounds that remain in the room.

“You… You can reject me now, or something. Please don’t be this quiet, Diana.” Akko laughs bitterly, saltiness escaping sealed eyes. “I guess, I just couldn’t help it any more. Ran out of options, had nothing else I wanted to do here but tell you I love you.”

Another beat. There’s a breeze that rustles the leaves outside closed windows. Breaths calm, and the only noise that remains is the occasional sniff.

“Please just say something so I can leave.” Akko whispers, only for them to hear.

“That’s… that’s wrong.” Diana finally manages to complete her sentence.

“Loving you? Yeah. I know.”

“No.”

“Oh, leaving after telling you something so imposing like that-?”

“No, what’s wrong is… That… That’s not…”

“That’s not what, Diana?” Akko asks, a little high-strung from everything. “You’ve been repeating those words a while now.”

“That’s…”

“Hmm?”

“That’s not how the lyrics go…”

“…”

“…”

“…Diana, you dense little- mrrnngghhh!” Akko reaches forward, hands almost touching Diana’s cheeks before they pinch the air, shaking with whatever feeling fueled her strength to have her hands trembling like that. “I cannot believe you. I just… I just confessed to you, poured my heart and soul out, and all you remember, all you can say about that WHOLE thing, was that I got my lyrics wrong?!”

Akko fumes, red in the face with frustration, or sadness, or confusion, or maybe all of those combined.

“… yes?”

“Well, ain’t that great, then?” Akko sarcastically utters. “You seem relatively unaffected by all of this. Guess I should have only worried about unrequited feelings.” She begins trudging toward her water bottle by the window, donning her jacket after taking a few sips.

She is just about ready to leave.

“What next? You at least want to stay friends now? I can stay friends if you give me… space for the next couple of days to get over you-“

“Why would you have to do that? Can’t we be friends at the same time?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

The pair blinks synchronously in their shared confusion.

“I mean... Don’t we feel the same way? I know dating follows after these kinds of events… and then we become l-lovers… but I believe that being best friends on top of that is even more wonderful-“

“Waitwaitwaitwait, hold it! Hold it right there!” Akko waves her arms frantically in front of her.

“I- what do I hold… exactly?”

Slapping a hand over her face, Akko lets all this information sink in, processing it with her brain that has definitely shrunk from all the stupidity taking place in one room. Is it her? Or is it Diana? The one who is misunderstanding things? Or are they both not coming to an understanding? Do they just not understand each other?

“So let me get this straight…” Akko pinches the bridge of her nose, a migraine coming on.

“Of course.”

“We’re both not straight.”

“… ah.”

Akko looks to her companion curiously at the weird sound.

“That’s what Hannah meant.” Diana says with an audible snap of her fingers, face looking very enlightened, a smile decorating her features.

“…”

“Eh- Akko? Where are we going? Akko?!”

“I could kill you right now, but it’s almost time for my class. You are coming with me to work, and we will talk about this afterwards.”

“Understood.”

“Finally! One of us understands.” She drags Diana behind her, marching towards her classroom.

“Then, why must I accompany you to your class?”

“…”

“Akko?”

Diana feels a tingle in her heart at the sight of red-tipped ears, at the feeling of a heated hand holding hers, and words that are the lyrics to the best song she’ll ever hear in her lifetime.

“I love you, and I just found out you love me too… so I wanted to kiss you…”

Diana’s smile grows wider, now a stupid grin on her face. “But?”

“I’m late for class, so staring at you will have to suffice.” The blonde is pleased to know they both have their priorities set. Though she wouldn’t have minded straying from time-to-time.

“Understood.”

“You’re beginning to understand a lot of things now, it seems.”

“Naturally. I’m a fast learner.” Diana boasts. Akko simply rolls her eyes at that. “Am I allowed to stay with you in your class? What is your next class, anyway?”

“I think it’s the required language class?”

“Oh, I have that now too... Wait- we share that class, don’t we?” Diana realizes, her steps speeding up and now she’s the one dragging Akko.

“Oh, right~, wait- Diana?”

“We have a quiz in that subject.”

“…”

“…”

“Fucking run, Diana! Remember stuff like that and tell me sooner! You idiot best friend!”

“I’m your lover now too!”

“JUST. RUN.”

“I love you too, Akko.”

“I love you most.”

  //-//-//-//-//

  “I (I), I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish… huh”

“You’re selfish”

Akko pauses in her guitar playing to slap the blonde’s hand.

“I like my women like I like my money, green” Both chuckle at the joke only they share; Diana rolling her eyes, sporting a blush, her minty strands fluttering in the wind. “A little jealous”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Akko teases, kissing red cheeks.

“Oh, I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”

“You are.”

“Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet (oh)

With a stone-cold neck, I'm so charmin', oh, oh”

Shifting to a position behind Akko on the little hill they’ve chosen for their first date, Diana wraps her arms around the slender waist, planting a kiss to Akko’s shoulder blade before resting her head on the girl’s shoulder, positioned in a way that she could just watch the expressions on her girlfriend’s face.

“I love you.”

Akko gives her a wink as she continues her song, everything she is- her tone, her warmth, her body language- exclaiming that she loves Diana back in the way words can’t.

“La-la-la-la-la-la-la

Do-do-do do-do

Ooh

Do-do-do do-do

Do-do-do do-do

Da-da-da da-da

Isn't love all we need? Is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

To be the same prophesy? Is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti, is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

Love (ooh), do-do-do do-do”

It’s a sweet kiss. Gentle, intense, with all the colors of the rainbow, and the passion of the burning sun.

Just like Honey.

  “It’s love.”  

A/N: If you’re wondering what Diana typed, it was “Honey song” because she doesn’t know the artist. Aren’t we glad Diana is such a smart lass?

Also, this was not supposed to be this long and frustrating. Sorry for the mess and bad plot?

Comments, kudos, reblogs, any feedback is always welcomed!

~Shintori Khazumi

[skinsharpenedteeth]

No clue what to call this one...

It’s PunkRock!Michael and Emo!Alex AU that pretty much no one asked for. That being said, it’s for @litwitlady per our previous conversation about the subtle difference with punk and emo kids.  As a warning, it fluff n smut.

              The ground vibrated under Alex Manes bright red converse and he wondered if he’d be able to hear anything once this night was over. He’d found the furthest wall and decided to hold it up for the evening as he waited for Maria to get done with her one-woman-mission to fuck SOMEONE in this derelict house that operated as a “music venue”. All the rooms were lit with harsh yellow lighting, bereft of all but the most untrustworthy looking furniture, and there were dents and holes in walls all over the place. Alex was a little afraid the second floor would cave in at some point and he’d have to find out that people actually lived here.

Looking back up towards the corner of what was once considered the dining room of the house, he was happy to see that he couldn’t see Maria anymore. Maybe she’d gotten lucky faster than he’d figured she would and soon they’d be able to get out of here. But that might still take a while, so Alex slid down the wall and took out the book he’d been reading about the perks of being a wallflower. He noted someone coming to stand next to him in this periphery but didn’t look up. He didn’t want to engage anyone here and the bouncing of their leg by his shoulder made him sure they weren’t looking to engage him either since they seemed to be enjoying the band.

               When the band finally wound down, the figure that had been standing next to him practically fell onto the floor in a heap of legs and elbows. He turned to look and saw it was Michael Guerin, probably the most serious, mysterious, hard core punk kid at his school. His blonde curly hair had been streaked with green and slicked back from his face. He didn’t wear any make-up like some of the punk kids did or Alex himself for that matter. He had on a D.A.R.E. shirt with the sides and sleeves ripped off which showed off his lithe, strong body when he slumped forward. The shirt was tucked into tight black jeans with safety pinned holes up and down the legs. He wore the rattiest shit-kicker boots Alex had ever seen which were covered with patches, pins, and spikes. He’d left his spiked bracelets and collar that he’d worn at school at home for the evening and Alex felt like he was almost seeing him naked. Which wasn’t unwelcome because for all Michael Guerin’s faults, being unattractive was not among them.

              “Having fun?” Michael asked, looking over at him in between nodding and slapping hands with various people milling around in the crowd. The band was breaking down their gear and everyone was moving to other parts of the house or out into the yard between acts. Alex pursed his lips at him and went back to his book. He was sure he was just fucking with him. Michael Guerin didn’t make small talk. He mostly just stalked the halls and kept his head down in classes. Alex couldn’t look at him without rolling his eyes sometimes, he was such a cliché.

              “I, uh, don’t think I’ve seen you at many of these. Thought you liked fuckin’ Panic! At the Disco and shit…” he continued, sneaking looks over at Alex. Alex sighed through his nose loudly. Apparently, they were going to do this tonight.

              “I’m here with Maria,” Alex finally responded, still not looking up from the book he was frankly only pretending to read at this point.

              “Oh? I saw her leave with one of the guitarists from the first band. Was she your ride?” Michael asked, sounding nervous. Alex did look at him then, trying to see if he was just fucking with him or if he was being sincere. When he decided he couldn’t tell, he dug his phone out of his back pocket and saw a missed call and a text from Maria.

>Found something strange and hopefully wonderful. Won’t be back tonight.

              “God fucking damnit, Maria,” Alex exclaimed, almost throwing his phone in frustration.

              “So I guess that’s a yes?” Michael asked a little sheepishly.

              “This is why you never see me at these things. I don’t have a fucking car and my ride likes to fuck strangers and ends up deserting me. I fucking know better. Ugh, fucking Maria,” he raged. Michael watched him at it for a while. Meanwhile the other band had finished setting up and people were starting to filter back into the room. Alex looked around at the people and groaned, just wanting to leave and get out of here.

              “Hey, come on. Let’s go outside. It’s about to get loud,” Michael suggested, standing up and offering Alex his hand. Alex absently noted that his fingernails were painted, though the polish was cheap and had already chipped off in several places. At the first screech of feedback from the amps, Alex grabbed his hand and let Michael pull him up. He shoved the paperback into his back pocket and looked Guerin in the eyes, feeling a fluttery feeling in his chest when their eyes met. He was a bit surprised when Michael didn’t immediately drop his hand, but instead held it while leading him through the dingy kitchen and out to the backyard area. A group of smokers hung around the door chatting and they called ‘Hey-o!’ in excitement when they saw Michael. He waved and grinned at them but kept tugging Alex with him until they were past the property line. Apparently, someone had found a couch on the side of the road and had moved it out into the undeveloped desert behind the house to stare out at the dark nothing beyond. When they reached the front of the couch Michael finally let go of his hand and flopped down on the cushions at one end with a sigh.

              “Uh, what are we doing?” Alex asked, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed them. He shuffled a little and stared down at the orange and white plaid couch dubiously.

              “We’re hanging out. Chill, sit down, enjoy the night with me. We’ll still be able to hear the band from here,” he added, patting the spot next to him.

              “Oh, goody,” Alex remarked sarcastically before sitting himself down on the cushion farthest from Michael’s. He still didn’t quite trust his intentions, but he was glad to be out of the house. They could, in fact, here the band still, but the lyrics were muffled and it almost sounded like the songs had a melody this far out.

              “So, what’s up with the finger bruises on your arm?” Michael asked, pointing towards where Alex’s shirt sleeves had ridden up when he’d finally sat down. “Girlfriend like to get a little rough?”

              “Uhh…. That would be pretty remarkable since I’m totally gay and you know it. Like, everyone knows it,” Alex accused, deflecting his question about the bruises. He didn’t want to talk about his problems with strangers. As hot as this guy was, he was still a stranger. Michael smiled widely at him.

              “I didn’t know if that was a rumor or what, man,” he replied easily, seeming to take Alex’s correction in stride. For some reason that threw Alex off. He’d been waiting for an attack.

              “Oh,” Alex said, feeling a little deflated, “Well, it’s not. I’m gay. Does that make you want to run back to the party? Afraid someone will see you out here with the emo faggot?”

              Michael’s smile fell and he looked a little insulted. Alex almost apologized, but he didn’t owe this punk anything and he kind of wanted to see how he reacted to some pushing. His tone was less congenial when he finally answered.

              “I don’t give a fuck who you’re into. Love is love. What I do want to know is who the fuck keeps bruising you up all the time? Those aren’t love taps I saw on your ribs the other day in the locker room and you don’t skate or play sports. Who’s fucking you up?”

              He sounded mad, indignant on behalf of a stranger. On behalf of Alex, who was not used anyone giving a shit about him. It was a new feeling for Alex to have someone pay that much attention to him and care that he was being hurt. But he couldn’t just say ‘My dad knocks me around because I crave cock and hate the military’ so he kept his mouth shut and Michael watched him stay silent, watched him tense up with his shoulders closer to his ears and wrap his arms around his body. He obviously wasn’t going to say anything so Michael tried a different tactic.

              “The foster family I’m with right now… they’re alright. But the family I was with before them? Fucking meth heads. And meth heads get mean when they’re coming down,” Michael said, turning and pulling his shirt over his head to show Alex his back. There were long thin grooves over the middle of his back and little round scars like burns. “Not all that is the meth heads. The long scars were from the religious zealots I got put with a couple years ago. Being exorcised isn’t fun, but the lead up was worse.”

              Alex stared at the skin in horrified fascination, moving closer to see them better in the faint light of the moon. Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching out to trace along one of the scars with his fingers, but at the last minute came to his senses and brought his hand back.

              “That’s awful, Michael,” Alex whispered. Michael pulled his shirt back down and turned to him, a bittersweet smile on his face.

              “Well, it’s all healed over now. Right now, no ones hurting me. So, who’s hurting you? Are you getting bullied? I know that Valenti kid is a fucking homophobic piece of shit jock bully, but if he’s literally beating you up I will get my boys and we’ll tear his ass in two,” Michael threatened with passion. Alex looked at him, feeling his face soften at how serious Michael was.

              “You can’t defend me like that. Kyle’s a fucking jerk, but he’s not doing this. It’s..uh… It’s my dad. He’s the one hitting me,” Alex admitted quietly. Somewhere in the middle of his confession, he had started to find his own hands fascinating. So fascinating he couldn’t look up to see Michael’s expression over his confession, but instead just kept watching the way his skin pulled taut when he interlaced them and twisted one way or the other. One of Michael’s hands came into his view then and covered his own, stopping their anxious twisting. Alex froze and waited.  He didn’t know what reaction he was hoping for but he felt himself bracing for it.

              “Do you have somewhere to go to get away from him?” Michael asked, his voice now quiet next to Alex’s ear. The hand not on Alex’s came to rest between his shoulder blades, thumb rubbing soothing circles through the cotton of his shirt. Alex felt his body relax a fraction, slumping a little as he realized he wasn’t about to be attacked.

              “Yeah, yeah. I have friends who will let me stay with them,” Alex managed to get out through the thickness in his throat.

              “Add me to that list,” Michael said. Alex’s head jerked up to look at him and he realized he was only a couple breaths away from him. “I’m serious. Add me to the list of people you can call if you need an out. I’ve got a truck, I’ll come get you. No questions asked, nothing owed.”

              “You don’t know me, Guerin,” Alex said in the stillness between them. He couldn’t stop his gaze from moving from his perfect hazel eyes down to his lips. He suddenly knew he wanted to kiss this guy. Whatever happened after was fine, but he wanted to do something reckless. Michael was pushing a long piece of hair back behind Alex’s ear and looking at him fondly and it made Alex’s gut clench with want.

              “Sometimes people do nice things without an expectations. It’s been known to happen,” he replied. Alex nodded and swallowed, suddenly filled with nerves again, though for a very different reason than before.

He saw Michael watching him, watching the way his eyes kept darting down to look at his lips, watching the way he mirrored licking them with his own. Slowly Michael leaned forward, closing the distance between them and pressed his lips against Alex’s. Alex was cupping his jaw and keeping him close before Michael could back away and end the kiss. Alex opened his lips, his tongue lickeding over Michael’s in a request and a question. This wasn’t Alex’s first kiss, but it was the first one he was adamant about pursuing further. Michael hummed deep in his throat and opened to Alex’s advances, letting him explore his mouth with his tongue before doing the same with his own. Alex felt breathless and elated. He didn’t care that the music in the background was hardcore punk being played so badly Syd Vicious would be rolling over in his grave. He didn’t care that he was kissing Michael on a dirty, half rotten couch out in the desert where anyone could see them and tell his father what he’d been doing with another boy. He didn’t care that Maria had left him to fend for himself so she could chase boys. This half-crazed make out session with Michael Guerin was making it the best night of his life so far.

              Maybe it was the lack of oxygen or the adrenaline of being seen by someone he’d never admitted to himself that he’d always been hyperaware of, but Alex couldn’t stop his hands from falling from Michael’s jaw and starting to grope at the skin exposed by the open sides of Michael’s shirt. In response, Michael turned his body and started to pull Alex until he was sitting straddled across his lap. Then it was Michael’s turn to slip his hands under the hem of Alex’s shirt and let his hands slide over the muscles of his back and waist. When it became too much, Alex finally broke their never-ending kiss to gasp air into his lungs. Michael didn’t miss a beat, his mouth attaching itself to Alex’s neck with sucking, stinging kisses that made Alex want to go crazy.

              “Fuck,” Alex groaned when he felt Michael’s fingers start to slip past the waist band of his jeans. It was so hot to feel him against his skin. It was too much, though, just too much with someone he’d really just been introduced to. “Wait, wait, wait! We gotta slow down…”

              Michael groaned and buried his head against Alex’s shoulder, hands immediately coming out from under his shirt and wrapping him up in a hug. Alex slowly withdrew his own hands, resting them on Michael’s shoulders while they both calmed down and regained their breath.

              “Sorry,” Michael murmured against his shirt before lifting his head and giving him a quick, close-mouthed kiss. “Sorry.”

              Alex smiled and laughed a little, rubbing his hands up and down Michael’s upper arms while he gathered himself. He was nervous about having stopped them, but he was still so fucking happy about what had happened.

              “It’s okay. All of that was okay, I just… Where did this come from? You don’t even know me, you’ve never talked to me at school or even, like, acknowledged my presence…” Alex said, eyes flickering over Michael’s face. He saw the way his expression went soft and slightly incredulous.

              “I may not know your favorite color, but I’ve wanted to kiss your emo eyeliner wearing ass since my first day at Roswell High. You’re always being so snarky and bratty to everyone and then when you’re with your friends? Your smile lights up the place and it’s so rare to see, but so fucking beautiful. It’s just… man, fuck school. Fuck those people. Fuck the kids, fuck the adults, fuck the institution. They’re answering just enough of the questions to keep us from asking more. It’s a fucking joke. I’m not in the right headspace at school. You’re about the only good thing about showing up every day. Just seeing you makes me hate humanity a little less.”

              Alex felt the heat of a blush infusing his face, but he also couldn’t stop smiling. This guy. This fucking guy.

              “Your,uh… your smile is pretty great too. I think tonight’s the first time I’ve even ever seen you smile,” Alex commented, his arms wrapping comfortably around Michael’s neck. Michael’s lips widened into a cheesy approximation of a smile that really just showed all his teeth with his lips pulled back while he crossed his eyes.

              “Oh my God, staaahhhp,” Alex said laughing at the stupid face. When Michael let his features relax back to normal, Alex darted in and kissed him. He meant for it to be one kiss, but it quickly turned into more as the heat which had been banked earlier, now came back to life with more energy.

              “Can we lay down? My legs are going to sleep,” Michael mumbled between kisses against Alex’s lips. Alex jumped and was about to scramble back and off his legs when he felt Michael’s hands under his butt and then he was being tilted backwards until his back rested against the cushions.

              “I shudder to think what’s on these pillows,” Alex grumbled even as he widened his legs and let Michael sink between them to rest his body against Alex’s. The weight and friction felt amazing. He suddenly didn’t care about the scratchy upholstery where his shirt at ridden up his back. He just wanted Michael’s mouth back on his and to keep feeling his body writhing on top of him.

              “You want to add to the mess?” Michael asked after breaking their kiss, raising an eyebrow and smiling mischievously. Alex looked at him confused for a moment and then his eyes followed Michael’s hand as it slid down to his own jeans, flicking the button open and leaving his hand on the zipper tongue. Alex’s eyes widened and he shot up to meet Michael in a kiss before glancing back down between them. It was so hot. He could tell Michael wasn’t wearing any underwear and his pants were almost painfully tight against his own body. “Alex?”

              “Fuck, yes. So much yes. All the yes. Enthusiastic conset given,” Alex babbled between kisses, his hands sliding down to start undoing his own jeans. Michael’s hand followed his, pushing his away so he could cup Alex through the black cotton of his boxer briefs. Alex felt like he could come just from that. His body was vibrating, breath caught in his throat as he gasped at the feeling of someone else’s hand so close to his own dick. He wanted to reciprocate. He wanted to touch Michael back so with shaky hands, he slowly pulled down Michael’s zipper and pushed aside the fabric of his pants. He felt the velvety skin against the back of his hand and then he pulled it out. Michael was uncircumcised. Alex felt like he knew this somewhere in his hind brain from talk or the locker room showers or something, but it was different when it was something you glanced while trying to hide as much of your own body as possible. Now it was thick and heavy in his hand. The foreskin moved in such a hypnotic way as Alex pulled and then pushed gently until he could see the wet, spongey head of Michael’s cock. It was giving him all sorts of scary, wonderful ideas of things he wanted to do and try that was definitely way too fast for a random hook up on a murder couch.

              “Does it freak you out?” Michael asked, voice a little breathy as he held still and let Alex play with him. Alex shook his head slowly, still watching his own hand as he jacked Michael’s cock, thumb swiping and spreading the precome over the head. Finally, Alex’s brain came back online and he looked up into Michael face. His eyes had closed and his mouth hung slightly slack. He looked like he was in pain, but he was enjoying every second of it. Alex didn’t stop his hand movements as he raised himself up enough to capture Michael’s bottom lip between his own. Immediately Michael responded, returning the kiss hungrily. His hand had stayed over Alex’s underwear, but now he pulled and tugged at the offending garment until he could get it far enough down to sit under Alex’s balls.

              “OOhhhhh my God,” Alex cried out as Michael’s hand finally grasped flesh and he was overwhelmed by the heat of his hand and the roughness of his skin.

              “You alright?” Michael asked, keeping his hand still to make sure Alex was still game. Alex nodded and sank back down against the sofa cushions. Michael was giving him a curious look from where he was holding himself up on one arm. Alex laughed a little and moved his hand to grip the back of Michael’s neck fondly.

              “That feels so much better when someone else is doing it,” Alex admitted a little shyly. Alex was afraid this was going to become a Conversation, but thankfully Michael just smiled softly at him and moved back down onto his forearm so he could kiss Alex while still having enough room between their bodies for their hands. Michael’s hand was a little dry on him, but he didn’t care. It still felt amazing and everytime their knuckles bumped against each other a zing of pleasure rocketed up his spine. He was doing this to someone else. Someone else was touching him. It was a-fucking-mazing. He started to feel a familiar tightness beginning in his core, his body winding itself tighter before it let go. He broke away from Michael’s mouth, panting and making pained little “Ah” sounds against his cheek.

              “Fuck, Michael, I’m about to—I’m going to—” he was trying to get out, even as his vision narrowed and his body became a singular being of exquisite pleasure. He felt Michael’s mouth cover his and then his own hand was wet as well. When it was over they laid there, panting against each other and then Michael tipped sideways to wall onto his side between Alex and the back of the couch.

              “Shit,” Michael said succinctly, cheek against Alex’s shoulder and breath still short. Alex just nodded and looked down at himself. There was come all over his shirt. His come, Michael’s come, marring the black in white, viscous stripes.

              “Shit,” he repeated after Michael, his voice less in awe now that it was time for clean up. Michael looked down at his shirt and honest to god giggled a little. He brought his come covered hand up and wiped it over a clean expanse of Alex’s tee.

              “Hey! I gotta wear this home!” Alex exclaimed, battling Michael’s hand away.

              “No you don’t. Follow me to my truck, I’ll let you borrow a shirt. This one is fucking toast,” Michael snickered. Alex looked down again and had to agree. Soon after, they tucked themselves back up into their jeans and got off the couch. Alex found himself a little wobbly after the high of an orgasm. Michael caught him with a hand on waist and kissed his cheek.

              “You get a little come drunk. Noted for next time.”

              “So there will be a next time?” Alex asked, suddenly finding he was nervous to hear the answer.

              “If you want there to be a next time, then yeah,” Michael said, holding out his hand to take Alex’s. Alex looked at it for a second and then up at Michael’s guileless face. He smiled then and reached his hand out to hold onto Michael’s. They slowly made their way around the outside of the house where the music was still rattling the glass panes left in the windows and out to the street where Michael had parked his truck. Alex stripped off his shirt and handed it off to Michael as Michael pawed through a backpack of clothes he kept under the passenger’s seat. Finally, he passed over a black Misfits shirt. When Alex put it on he noticed it smelled like rain, dust, and sage brush. It wasn’t a bad smell and in fact made him want to bury his nose in the collar to train it to memory. It was how Michael smelled and that wasn’t a bad thing.

              “Want a ride home?” Michael asked a little shyly as he tugged the bottom of his shirt on Alex’s body in some attempt to ‘straighten it’.

              “Sure,” Alex agreed, climbing in the passenger’s seat and buckling in. Michael closed his door for him and ran over to the driver’s side, climbing in and starting up the car. As soon as they were on the road, Alex slid his hand over the seat between them in a silent request for Michael to hold his hand. With a quick smile, Michael did.

[theriverpersonshadow]

Lamia Drama Part 8

WELL THAT GOT LONGER THAN I INTENDED. But I guess that’s what happens when you have a majority of the people in one place XD

I hope this chapter went well... It felt kinda rambly, but it was fun seeing people play off each other. It was hard to get the same level of depth with characters as previous chapters with so many, but hey, interactions are fun too! Hope you guys enjoy.

As always, the species of lamia in this fic belong to @vex-bittys

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           Keith and the rest found Alex pretty easily. And a few other lamia that were either allowed free roam or had just slipped out. She didn’t seem to notice the onlookers, more caught up in petting Oozy… who wasn’t technically in his hammock. Maybe it’s best he didn’t make that bet with Hux earlier. Sure, Oozy’s close to the hammock, but Hux would absolutely rules lawyer him and demand snacks because he’s not in the hammock. Hux was a rule stickler… when and only when it helped him in some way. Eh, Keith could roll with it though (even if his dice sometimes couldn’t, but that’s what a DM screen is for).

           Keith was hesitant to break up the cute moment between the two – Oozy was apparently having the time of his life, and Alex seemed pretty wrapped up in it herself, humming some tune or another while stroking him. Keith listened, trying to place it, but…

           She was repeating it, huh? Was that the only part of the song she knew? Then again, it seemed like the good part, whatever it was. Easy enough to pick up too. Keith started humming along.

Hux rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “great, two of them” and slithered over, “Yo. Girl person. Ya coming or what?”

Alex looked up, “I mean, yeah, I think? Coming where?”

“nooooooooo…” Oozy said, taking her hand and putting it back on his head. “Sorry guys. I’m stealing her. She’s my personal petter now. That’s the rules.”

“Since when?!” Hux said.

Oozy looked a moment, then licked her hand. “I licked her, she’s mine.”

Keith stared at him in shock, not sure whether to laugh or slap him. “Dude.”

Nikolai gave a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Don’t lick party members. Or people in general.”

           “How does that work anyways? You’re a skeleton,” Alex said.

           “Maaaagic,” Keith said, wiggling his fingers in emphasis. “In other words, uh… Monster biology is weird. Or half monster biology. Whatever the fuck we are.”

           Nikolai nodded, “More or less, yes. I can explain it in more detail later, if you’d prefer.” He started coming forward and Alex inched away. Keith hissed before he could catch himself, but Nikolai didn’t seem offended. Instead, he lowered himself in a bow, “And I’d like to apologize for how I acted earlier… I’ll admit I, erm… Overreacted. But we’ve had issues in the past of people coming in to steal babies or eggs, one of the fools tried to snag a mamba egg and got himself killed. I just get a bit jumpy about strangers around them.”

           Alex nodded, relaxing a little, but still staring off at a clock instead of Nikolai. Her hand continued to run across Oozy as she said, “I get it. They’re just little dudes, too freaking small. And some are venomous. Not like you knew me.”

           “Still, I should’ve given you more of a chance or at least asked you politely to leave before turning to threat displays,” Nikolai said.

           “Eh… It was my fault,” Keith said. “I should’ve warned ya I was bringing someone in. Anyways, let’s try this again. Alex, this is Nikolai. He could probably fuck you up, but he’s everyone’s mom.”

           Nikolai made no move to deny it.

           “Hux here is the grumpy snake. He’ll warm up to ya.”

           “No I won’t.”

           Keith rolled his eyes, “He’s just a grump.”

           Hux mumbled to himself.

           “I think you’ve met Oozy pretty well by now.”

           “Sup,” Oozy said, making absolutely zero movement.

           “And, erm… Nikolai, you’ve got Trousle, right.”

           “Hello human! I’m Trousle! Please let me say hi.” Said Trousle’s little speaker. He was poking out from Nikolai’s sleeve, apparently wrapped around his arm.

           “He’s mute, but he’s pretty fast at typing. Got his own phone and everything,” Keith said, watching this girl intently. Apparent soulmate or not, if she was dick about Trousle, she was out of here. She might’ve earned Oozy’s enthusiastic (well… enthusiastic by his standards, dude looked like a kid in a candy store, but the world’s laziest kid) approval, but he wasn’t going to let an asshole mess with the little dude. Hux would warm up, that was more him being a bit of an ass than her, but he’d get over it… probably.

           “Oh that’s cool! Do you have a phone number? Honestly I think my fingers work better than my mouth sometimes, but I guess talking out loud doesn’t really have a backspace key? But yeah! C’mere… Wait, I can hold him, right? Snakes are just, like, noodle puppies.” She paused, looking at everyone in the room. “I’d offer to hold you guys, but I am literally the second smallest person in here. I mean, guess we can try, but I don’t think it’ll go well?”

           Keith snorted. Gosh, she was something, huh? A little awkward, but who wouldn’t be super awkward in this situation?

           Nikolai brought Trousle over and she draped him around her neck. He nuzzled her cheek, giving her little scratches behind the ear.

           … should someone tell him that she’s not a dog?

           …

           Naaaaaaaaaah. She didn’t seem to mind anyways,

           Hux made a fake-gagging gesture at the two and Keith rolled his eyes, whispering at them, “Oh let’em have this. It’s cute.”

           “I’m getting diabetes. Like, right now. They’re just beaming diabetes across the room.”

           “Be nice,” Nikolai said, “It’s not going to kill you to have to actually smile at a human once in a while.”

           “Yes it will. It’s, like, a terminal thing. If I smile at a human, I will instantly turn to dust.”

           No such condition had ever existed and likely never would.

           Keith’s first instinct was to back up Nikolai, but it was almost an in-joke that he’d at least try to defend Hux no matter how clearly in the wrong the guy was. Admittedly, it was as often as not either due to boredom or just feeling bad for the guy…

           It’s not like Hux didn’t have a point – a point that he had iterated in frustrated, sometimes tear-filled tirades at least a few dozen times. He didn’t want to be treated like a pet, he’s allowed to not want to be a pet. Sure, not every adopter is like that. Some might’ve been looking for pets, yeah, but just as many want a kid or a friend, especially with full sized lamia. It could be more or less just like adopting any other monster, save for needing a good deal more raw meat. But Hux didn’t see it that way… Not that Keith ever blamed him. There wasn’t a huge market for full-sized Corals, their reputation as being stubborn, a bit lazy, and tsundere as hell was cute in something you could pick up and snuggle as it chirped indignantly and secretly enjoyed it – like an extra intelligent, reptilian cat – but less so when it was just as big as you and probably stronger. Everyone wanted a housecat, no one wanted a mountain lion. Or those that did need something to growl and hiss would probably pick Kings or Mambas.

           Nikolai gave a long-suffering sigh, “You will not turn to dust if you’re forced to be nice every now and then.”

           “Yeah I will. It’ll, like, strangle my soul or some shit. Keith, back me up here. Tell ‘im.”

           Nikolai had the distinct impression of a haggard mom trying to reason with an unruly kid. He just looked so done. Dude could handle customers, angry mamba moms, being a jungle gym for babies, and training employees who may or may not have believed he knew he what he was doing, but Hux was his breaking point.

           Keith stifled a chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his mind worked over what to do… He didn’t want to just abandon Hux – Nikolai would know it was just him being a loyal bro – but Alex wouldn’t. She might not’ve been looking at them, but he caught the way she kept glancing over…

           “Welp, ya heard him. He’s sick. I prescribe ten CC’s of coffee with extra sugar and bribery with shiny objects.”

           Hux’s head popped up, body at attention. “I’m listening… How many shiny objects are we talking.”

           “… we’re not bribing him.”

           “I’ve got extra dice?” Alex said hesitantly. Trousle was looking at her in concern, patting her face. She said, “I mean, I kinda like having all my dice, but I guess I don’t need seven sets… I’m keeping the black ones though, they’re good for fight scenes. And the orange ones, they were my first set ever and are not for sale. Also, the green and purple ones are just a fae vibe, I’m keeping them. They’re just average, but I like them.” Pause. “And the lesbian dice are mine. They won’t like you anyways, you’re a boy.”

           All of them nodded understandingly. You could only play DnD so long and not get irrationally attached to the colorful little click clack rocks of fate.

           “That counts as one shiny object,” Hux said.

           “There are seven in each set!” Pause. “Well, more or less. I’ve lost some over the years.”

           “You’ve got a point… More dice for the dice dragon! Mwahahahah!” Hux said, hamming it up.

           Keith’s mouth twitched into a grin as he shook his head at the goof. How was he this cute? Just… goober. His friend is a total goof sometimes.

           “Can I try the lesbian dice?” Trousle asked, holding himself at an awkward position to type.

           “I… I guess? Just give them back after…” Alex said. She ran a finger across Trousle’s head, smiling as he let out little breathy attempts to “Nyeh.”

           “Why are they lesbians anyways? Do they only work for girls?” Nikolai said.

           “Here, lemme show you.” She unzipped one of the pouches on her bag and brought out a baggy full of dice that were lesbian flag colored. “My friend got them for me for Christmas.”

           “That’s amazing. I want twelve,” Keith said.

           “You’re not a lesbian… or a girl! I think… I mean, if there’s something you want to tell us, that’s fine, but I was under the impression you weren’t even interested in relationships,” Nikolai said.

           “Maybe I could get, like… Dice that are for people who are just no.”

           “Ace and aro. Probably,” Alex said.

           “Oh cool. Words for it. Nice!”

           “Give me words for friends with everyone! I want a flag too!”

           “I… I don’t know if there’s a flag for that? Maybe we could put a dog on a flag? It’d be hard to make dice with dogs on them though,” Alex said.

           “Ya could put a little dog face on every side and interpret the roll based on how much they’re a Good Boy,” Keith said.

           “That would only roll Nat 20’s,” Alex said, deadpan.

           “… good point. It could be the luckiest dice,” Keith said, grinning.

           “I AM THE GOODEST BOY. Give me dog dice.” Trousle said, tucking the phone away to throw his little fists in the air, a gleam in his eye as he sat on Alex’s head.

           Keith laughed. “Oh my gosh. I mean, that sounds adorable, but, uh… I think that miiiiight be a little too game breaking, even for me.”

           “Give me dog dice.” He slithered back down to around Alex’s neck, holding himself out towards Keith the best he could and giving some mix between a glare and a pout.

           “Trousle no.”

           “Trousle YES,” Alex said.

           Troulse nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in place so hard that he fell off and Alex yelped as she caught him.

“Are you alright?!”

           Trousle gave a thumbs up, coiling around her arm.

           Oozy had apparently fallen asleep on the floor, so Hux poked him with a stick, making Oozy whine. “Soooooo… Are we gonna get Glitterass, or are we just shadow banning him from this? I mean, I wouldn’t say no if we are…”

           “We should probably go get him, yeah,” Keith said. “Ya ready Alex? Liam’s a mamba, and one of his eyes don’t work. Try to stay on his good side, literally. Metaphorically too if you want, but he doesn’t like having people where he can’t see or hear them well.” Not that anyone would like that, just courtesy really, but maybe not something you’d think of immediately.

           Alex nodded, “Alright, let’s go!”

[thefactsofthematter]

may we have a Softe javid fic to heal us

so i have no idea when this ask was actually sent (probably months ago) but i did START this fic when i got it! then i forgot about the wip and only found it again the other day. so here it finally is!!!

javid; 3.2k; an au in which davey is a rich socialite in the 1850s and it’s heavily inspired by laurie and jo’s meet-cute in little women; not proofread in the slightest

-

Brooklyn, NY, 1856.

David Jacobs has never been one for these pretentious, formal parties.

Hours of polite smiling, shaking hands with stuffy old people, and gently declining young ladies' requests to dance with him, all while dressed up in a stiff tuxedo— it's hardly a way to spend an evening.

And yet here he is, standing in the corner and nursing a glass of champagne, because Sarah keeps getting them invited to these things and he's not about to let her go off to a party alone. The least he can do is make a good name for his parents, as their polite young socialite son who makes connections with family friends and doesn't get himself into trouble.

"David, darling!"

Here comes Katherine, one of David's best friends and the daughter of the family hosting. She's twirling over to him, clearly feeling just as bubbly as the champagne she's been drinking.

"Hello Miss Pulitzer," he replies, stifling a laugh as he lunges forward to catch her from tripping over her own skirts. "It seems you're having quite the night."

She hardly makes an effort to right herself, seeming content to rest on his arm for a moment.

"Oh, am I ever," she sighs. "I do love when we get to host a big party— it's a bit fun being the centre of attention. And hey, don't you dare Miss Pulitzer me. I can't stand it."

David chuckles as he helps her regain her balance. She lets go of his arm and smoothes out her skirts before tossing her hair and looking every bit ready to continue dancing.

"I know, I know. I'm only being polite," he laughs, though she slaps him playfully on the arm for it. "You look lovely tonight, by the way. Though I surely hope you're not about to ask me to dance, since you know what the answer will be."

She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically.

"Someday, Jacobs. I'll get you on that dance floor eventually— but no, that's not why I've come to find you. I was hoping I could call in a favour."

David quirks an eyebrow as he sips his drink. Why Katherine might need a favour from him in a house full of servants that literally work to do whatever she needs, he's not sure.

"I suppose," he replies. "But Sarah had me do her a favour by curling her hair tonight, and now I've got dreadful little burns on my fingers, so I'm not in the most generous mood."

"Sarah looks wonderful tonight, so perhaps your burns were worth it," sighs Katherine, hardly making an effort to hide how lovesick she is. She takes his hand to inspect it, and then rolls her eyes. "That's barely anything, you big baby! Surely no one's ever taught you that beauty and pain go hand in hand."

"My shoes are teaching me that right now," he whines. "They're my favourite ones, but they pinch my toes something awful. Anyways... what favour do you need?"

Katherine lights up like she's just remembering she'd asked for a favour in the first place.

"Oh, right! Let's walk and talk for a moment, if I can't convince you to dance." She takes David's elbow and they start to wander through the crowd. They're both well aware of the stares they get: everyone is expecting them to court and eventually marry, and they both know they'll probably go along with it someday. "So... I invited a friend of mine tonight— someone I met at the newspaper— but he doesn't really know anyone else here. I thought since you normally keep to yourself, you could show him around! I really think you two could be great friends."

David almost doesn't catch the way she winks, following those last few words, making her implication clear. He hopes no one catches the way he instantly flushes bright red.

"That's not right, Kath," he hisses, under his breath. "You brought me a date? Is he..." He trails off and giggles a little before whispering in her ear. "Is he quite handsome?"

Katherine laughs out loud and bounces giddily on her toes. For someone who's likely to be his future wife, she's awfully excited at the idea of setting him up for romance.

"Oh, isn't he! You're going to love him." She drops her voice to a whisper. "And before you ask... I'm rather sure where his affections lie— I think you two will get along quite well."

David, rather flustered now, starts to fuss with his hair and tie without even realizing it— until Katherine reaches up and fixes them for him.

"You look dashing," she giggles. "He was nervous to come in here and not know what to do with himself, so he's waiting in the library for now. Somewhere nice and quiet for you two to... get acquainted."

David can feel the heat of his blush on his cheeks and wills desperately for it to go away as Katherine drags him out of the ballroom and down the hall. He skids to a halt as they approach the library, tugging on her arm.

"I'm not ready," he whispers. "I can't do this. You can't just surprise me with a date! Oh, what if he thinks I'm annoying, or I talk too much, or—"

Katherine cuts him off with a giggle and a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"You've got nothing to be worried about, my dear." She straightens his jacket and smiles fondly. "Jack is a sweetheart, and you'll be as charming as ever. Now come on, it's impolite to keep company waiting."

With that, she walks gracefully through the library doors, leaving David scrambling to catch up.

"I'm back!" she sing-songs as she enters. She grins and grabs David's arm, dragging him into view. "I found you a friend!"

His stomach does a backflip as soon as he lays eyes on Jack. He's gorgeous. He's the kind of effortlessly beautiful that Davey has always wished he could be, where it looks like he hardly pays any mind to his appearance but it all just magically works out in his favour. His hair is tousled just the right way and his cheeks are a little rosy under these dim library lights— it's all coming together in order to make David swoon.

"Jack, David," continues Kath, gesturing between them. "David, Jack. Get yourselves acquainted and then come back and join the party! Cheers, boys!"

And then she's off, subtly winking at David as she hurries out of the room.

"Well, hi there," says Jack, laughing a little at Kath's abrupt exit. He extends a hand to shake. "Jack Kelly, pleased to meet you."

David hopes the flush on his cheeks isn't obvious as he shakes Jack's hand and smiles.

"David Jacobs." They release the handshake and it almost seems like they might fall into awkward silence, but David practically goes to parties for a living— he can command some small-talk when he has to. "So... you're a friend of Katherine's from work? I think it's just wonderful that she's gotten so far with her writing."

This manages to get the ball rolling.

"Isn't it?" replies Jack with a grin. "I draw the pictures for lots of her pieces and boy can she write. She's a real... oh what was that word she said... a wordsmith! That's it!"

David can't help but laugh. There's something about Jack that intrigues him, but he can't quite put his finger on what. He seems different from most of the snooty socialite people he's used to hanging around with— even just the way he talks, he seems more real.

"So Katherine told me you might need a little introduction to this whole..." he trails off and waves a hand absentmindedly as he tries to find the right word, "party scene. You might be best to turn around and head back home, if I'm being honest— I find the whole thing a little tedious."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. Upon a closer look, he seems a little uncomfortable in his suit, like he's not sure how to carry himself. It's like he's scared he'll slip up and make a wrong move, or something.

"Isn't it just wine, fancy food, and dancing? Sounds like it can't be all that bad," he chuckles, and then he gently takes David's hands in his own. Jack's hands are calloused and a little stained— likely ink, since he'd mentioned he draws for a living— and they make an almost poetic contrast to David's pale ones. "How 'bout you give me a dancing lesson right now?"

David's heart nearly beats right out of his chest. Oh god. This is a lot to handle. That was incredibly forward, and he sure hopes it means what he thinks it means. Are they flirting right now?

"I— I'm not much of a dancer," he laughs, sheepishly. "I mostly just stand around and watch. I tend to be a bit of a wallflower when it comes to crowds."

Jack starts to sway absentmindedly while still holding David's hands. They can still hear the music from the ballroom, and he seems to have the musicality to at least move along with the notes.

"Surely the girls are all over you," he chuckles. "You just break their hearts and won't even give 'em a dance?"

David blushes even harder, if that's possible. He remembers what Kath had said earlier— that she was quite sure Jack felt similarly about his attraction— so he laughs softly and decides to test the waters.

"I'm not all that interested in ladies," he says, and it takes a fair bit of courage to force those words out. Sarah and Katherine are the only ones who know about his... disinterest, simply because they're in the same boat. It's not something that feels like it should be talked about. This statement was at least general enough that he could brush it off, say it's because he's too focused on his studies.

There's a moment of knowing eye contact between them, during which David lets out a sigh of relief. They both know why Katherine introduced them. They're still holding hands, standing awfully close together, and David's scared Jack might be able to hear his heart pounding.

"Me neither," whispers Jack, after a long second of silence. He's not subtle with the way his gaze flicks to David's lips and then back up. He suddenly seems to notice how forward he's being, and he practically jumps backwards, before brushing his hands on his pants and looking up with a sheepish smile. "So, what if we don't even go into the ball? If neither one of us wants to dance with the girls, we can just dance in here, by ourselves!"

David's not sure he's ever wanted anything more. That sounds incredible. He freezes up in crowds, but if it's just the two of them, he might actually be able to remember some of the dances that he's watched so many times before.

"I'd like that," says David, his voice remarkably soft and his heart fluttering. "May I have this dance, Mr. Kelly?"

"I'd be honoured, Mr. Jacobs. You're gonna have to help me out though, I've got two left feet."

Slowly, hesitantly, they waltz their way around the library, constantly giggling as they trip over their own feet. Neither one of them was lying about not knowing how to dance— they're a mess— but it's delightful just moving along together with no one around to see.

Eventually, they start to make up their own moves, flailing and twirling their bodies however they want to, and David has never had so much fun. They jump and bounce around to the upbeat songs, laughing all the while like a couple of rowdy children. It's wonderful.

After several songs of dancing, they find themselves flopping onto the little couch to give their feet a rest. They're both still laughing as they try to catch their breath— Jack loosens his tie and unbuttons his jacket, which is certainly improper but also incredibly attractive.

"Thanks for that, Davey," sighs Jack, and David's heart practically leaps into his throat at the nickname. "Much better than dancing with any girls, in my opinion."

Davey laughs and drops his gaze to the floor.

"I can't help but agree," he says, still a little on-edge. "You make wonderful company."

There's a moment of quiet, filled only by the crackle of the fireplace. Davey has an overwhelming urge to take Jack's hand in his own, but he's far too nervous.

"Tell me something about yourself," Jack finally says, turning to Davey with a smile. "I'd like to get to know you better. What do you do for fun?"

Davey almost laughs. He's not sure of the last time he did anything that was purely for his own enjoyment. His life is about pleasing other people— his family, his tutors, and all the other wealthy folk that they try so hard to impress.

"Well, I like to read," he eventually settles on. He folds his hands nervously in his lap. "When I was living in France with my uncle last year, he had this grand library. I would sometimes sneak in there and read the fantasy novels— as silly as that is. It's awfully embarrassing, but I rather enjoyed it."

"Now that's not embarrassing," says Jack, still smiling, charming Davey even further with every moment that passes. "Who doesn't love a good story? And, wow— living in France? Do you speak the language, then?"

Davey hates how hard he's blushing right now. He's never had someone be so genuinely interested in what he has to say— it's a new and almost alarming experience.

His time in France was a very lonely experience: stuck in his elderly uncle's massive home, far away from his dear brother and sister, all because his parents had decided he needed to learn to be more cultured. All he really learned was how to keep himself entertained during long days with nothing to do— but at least it's something interesting to talk about now, he supposes.

"Bien oui," he responds, revelling in the way Jack's eyes light up in excitement. "C'est ma langue préférée. Tu sais... y'en a des gens qui disent que c'est la langue d'amour. J'avais mes doutes, mais peut-être je les crois, maintenant."

Jack clearly doesn't understand a word of it, but he seems thoroughly impressed.

"Wow..." he says, almost as if he's star-struck. "That's incredible."

Davey laughs softly, a little embarrassed at being the center of attention.

"Enough about me," he chuckles, desperate to get out of the spotlight. "You said you're an artist— is it something you've always been interested in?"

Jack looks a little caught off-guard to suddenly become the topic of conversation, but he recovers quickly.

"Oh, for sure. I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil." He gestures with his hands as he talks, which is entirely endearing. "I just do little cartoons in the paper, as far as right now, and I paint sets for a theatre in the Bowery when I have time, but I'd love to sell a painting of my own someday."

"I'd love to buy one," says Davey, finally mustering up the courage to place a hand on top of Jack's. "I'm sure they're beautiful."

It's Jack's turn to blush, which is oddly satisfying for Davey. They're holding hands on the little couch in this dimly lit library— Davey feels like one of the characters from the novels he's read, as this whole situation seems too good to be true.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jack asks, after a moment. He's got a mischievous grin on his face, but he looks a little nervous as well. "You can't tell anyone else."

Davey smiles right back.

"Of course you can," he says, brushing his thumb gently on the back of Jack's hand. "I've been told I'm a wonderful listener— at least my sister thinks so."

Jack laughs softly and looks down at his lap. It almost seems as if he's trying to build up the courage to tell his secret.

"Okay..." he sighs, and then he continues in a whisper. "I'm not supposed to be here."

Davey can't help but frown in confusion.

"What on earth do you mean? Katherine invited you, and she's the hostess! Surely that means she wanted you to come."

Jack laughs nervously again. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, I mean... I've never been to a fancy party like this, no less in a house this nice. This ain't even my suit— I'm borrowing from Kath's brother. I've never owned no suit this dapper. I'm, uh... not like the rest of you, if that makes sense."

Oh. That's where it clicks for Davey. It suddenly makes sense why Jack talks a little differently, and why he'd been so impressed by Davey's mention of a trip to France— not everyone is born into the kind of wealth that makes that possible. That's why he'd waited in the library rather than come into the party; he probably wouldn't know what to do with himself.

It's not like Davey only hangs out with people of his own social status, but he has to admit that he doesn't know many people like Jack. Most of his friends— the very few that he has— are from boarding school, or these ridiculously uptight social events, although he's always felt like he doesn't quite fit in with them. He's always wished to be more... normal.

"Ah, well that's quite alright," Davey replies, since he's truly not sure what kind of response Jack was expecting. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, if I'm being honest. Forgive my language, but I do tire of hanging around with all these blue-bloods."

If only his father could hear him use a silly word like that. It's a funny term he'd learned to refer to wealthy people, and he'd probably get a smack around the back of the head for saying it in front of his family. Jack, however, just laughs.

"You're awful funny, Jacobs," he says. "And nicer than most rich folks, too. I can see why Kath wanted to introduce us."

Once again, Davey blushes. He curses his own pale complexion, because even in the low lighting, Jack has clearly noticed.

"She's quite the matchmaker," he replies with a chuckle. "Two of our friends are married now, thanks to her."

Jack leans in a little closer, and Davey can feel his heartbeat in his throat.

"Is that so?" he asks. "She must know what she's doing, then."

He's looking at Davey's lips again, and they go quiet for a moment. This doesn't even feel real— Davey almost has the urge to pinch himself and check if he's dreaming.

He takes a deep breath, as subtly as possible.

"I'd like it if you kissed me," he whispers, finally breaking the tension.

"I'd like that too," Jack replies, and then he oh-so carefully presses their lips together.

It's everything Davey could've hoped for.

They don't even notice Katherine and Sarah peeking in to check on them— nothing could possibly break this magical moment. It feels like they're exactly where the universe intended for them to be.

- 

@landlessbud @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @auspicioustarantula @backgroundensemble @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @jack-kellys @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @starrysence @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet @asphodelnerd @agressive-cinnamon-roll @daveysexual @soft-colors-and-such @move-your-elbow

[emerald-amidst-gold]

For the OTP ask: 8, 9, 16, 53, and 91 (for this one, it could just be a song you have for them, too) :D

*rubs palms together and giggles* Oooo, I'm loving these questions! I get to show how much of a nerd am I for these two nerds! >:3

8. Who tends to worry the most?

I was going to answer this with 'both equally', but the more I think, the more I realize that Solas is the one who worries the most. XD

I mean, come on. We all know Solas is a natural worry wart. It's in the man's blood, and Fane has a tendency to make his dear wolf's blood pressure rise to fatal heights with the shit he does. PFFT!

Fane is a literal battering ram when it comes to battles (this is based on how I've specced him in-game), and he just charges in without caring if he'll get sliced, diced, or scorched. Fane's illness with magic makes it incredibly difficult for Solas to erect barriers on him, so he has to devise other ways to keep Fane in one piece (nitpicking about his armor, constantly asking, 'Are you certain you are ready?', and begging, 'Please control yourself this time, ma'isenatha.') All of that worry comes from the fact that Solas has seen Fane die, has had to guide him to it, even. Fane doesn't mean to brush off that concern and worry, but when he's embroiled in battle he...loses his senses a bit. Dragons aren't meant to fight, and fighting is what Fane does best in his new life, so he has a hard time balancing bloodlust with merciful restraint.

If Fane gets injured (which he does, but only grazes and the occasional gash), Solas won't let anyone else attend to him, fear gripping his mind, memories of blood soaked crystal and decaying scales cracking his mask and rendering him tortured. When Fane sees that, instead of just seeing the nagging, he'll go docile, go remorseful and will say, 'I'm sorry, my sky. I never meant to-- I only--hn.' Once they talk and wind down though, things get right back on track, but Solas is constantly worrying over his dragon--constantly.

Solas worries about everything with Fane--his scars, his nightmares, his battle with his identity--but battle is where he's the least reserved in it. He doesn't want Fane to have to fight, but he knows they both don't have a choice in the matter.

9. Who is more inclined to be jealous or possessive?

Dragons--naturally possessive, i.e. hoards.

Wolves--naturally protective of those within their pack, i.e. touch member of pack, you get snapped at or even bitten.

Fane and Solas are both highly protective of one another. They just go about it in different ways. Fane's more likely to snap and glower at an infringing form, making it known where they can take their 'affections'. Solas is more reserved, but most can attest that his gaze leaves them shivering and near stone with how cold it is if Fane is randomly touched by an unwanted suitor or harassed by a fawning noble. Obviously, Fane and Solas try to keep the respective beasts at bay, worried the other will think less of them for such childish behavior, but sometimes--sometimes--it's extremely hard to keep a polite mask in place due to memories of harshness and filth.

For example!

---

"You're...jealous?", Fane asked, blinking and attempting to piece together what he was feeling now. And he couldn’t. “Of who?”

Solas' eyes fell shut with a rueful chuckle. "Most here. Is that hard to believe? It is petty, I know, but eyes have been upon you since your entrance; each pair a set of daggers. You carried yourself with confidence, with pride, and every single noble within the ballroom responded to your very presence. They whispered, they sought, they undressed." The final word a mixture between a hiss and a growl that was accompanied by a small sneer of disdain before it all relaxed. "My heart knows where your own lies, my dragon, but my mind, too, is being a thorn in my side."

Fane stared down at Solas, shocked and...mesmerized. His sky had been jealous of the looks of fops and prisses? Those who had no chance of ever reaching through to his heart? To his emotions? Those who played with lives as a puppeteer did with strings?

This was...oddly amusing, but only because they were both fools.

Here they were, in the lion’s den, hunting an assassin that threatened to topple an empire, seeking answers to questions they didn’t even know yet, playing a game of macabre chess and deciding who would rise and who would fall, and they were both jealous from nattering nobles who killed for sport or an inconsequential servant girl that would be forgotten in the morn. The ridiculousness nearly made Fane cackle. Was this what court intrigue encompassed? He didn’t see the appeal.

Fane huffed out amusedly. "I love you.", he said, point blank with no room to be denied. “Ar lath ma, ma tarasyl.”, he repeated in Elvhen, lifting a hand to rub at his face and shook his head in disbelief at himself.

Solas’ eyes snapped open at his declaration, a blush stretching across his face and was apparent even in the shadows that embraced them. That swath of delicate pink nearly had Fane cracking, breathing out a steadying sigh through his nose instead. Damn anything that was holy, if poison didn’t kill him, this endearing, foolish elf would. How could he be so blind when responses like that reaffirmed where his sky’s heart lay?

“Sorry, it’s just..”, Fane started before letting out a tiny laugh, massaging his cheekbones in slow circles. “You looked so ashamed by how you felt, even though I just said I felt the same way. If anything, I should feel ashamed because I’m jealous of someone far more innocent than these Orlesian pricks.”

Solas tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “May I know who you were jealous of?”, he inquired.

Fane let out an airy laugh, kneading his brow with two fingers. “The servant girl that just left not even five minutes ago.”, he admitted, face growing hot with shame and embarrassment. He was such a fool. A pathetic, blind fool.

“The servant--?”, Solas began before letting out a quiet, breathless laugh of his own. “Ma’isenatha, you are aware that we are at court, at the heart of Orlais, yes? Appearing gentile and cordial is but a step in a very specific dance. My reactions to her were equal parts genuine and fluid, and I felt nothing beyond that.”

Fane huffed, letting his hand fall to his side. “I know, but it’s like you said, just the sight of another making reaches for someone you fought for, someone you adore and respect is infuriating. I just got you back and to have it taken away again is--”, he tried to explain, lifting his hand back up to rub at his face again. “Fenhedis lasa. A fucking smile sent my mind spiraling. Ridiculous..”

---

Halamshiral was fun! :D

16. Do they enjoy dancing?

Fane is the guy who stands in a dark corner at parties, and glares at everyone who tries to get too close, soooo...no. PFFFT!

However, if it were just he and Solas in their quarters, a light of levity possessing them, then he might be willing to let the other teach him steps that weren't able to be done by massive claws. The Winter Palace is the one time Fane takes the initiative and actively offers Solas his hand for a dance--all grace and poise unlike that of a dragon.

...The finery didn't fall fast enough that night for Solas. *is SLAPPED*

And I like to think Solas secretly yearns for such simple pleasures as a waltz or ginger circle, swaying to the music, time seeming endless once more. He misses what was before, and maybe just a tiny step can make him feel a little less lost. :3

53. Who is the better dancer?

Solas. 100%.

Fane is graceful in battle, able to shift his weight and glide with the flow of blood and chaos. But the more delicate arts--that of dancing? Yeah, no. My boy's prone to step on someone's toes and curse for them because 'A dragon? Dancing at court? Void take me..' Vivienne and Josephine had to let Solas teach Fane how to dance because he was so against the idea that he would lock himself in their quarters and refuse to entertain the two women. Solas has a hard time, but with Leliana's help, they manage to get Fane to see he does have a certain knack for the finer things. *winks*

Honestly, Solas is shocked at the Winter Palace when he sees Fane dancing with the Duchess because...he moved as if from memory, and not the one's of stumbling, cursing, and heavy sighing as legs tripped up and toes were stomped on.

Fane moved like an Evanuris--those attuned to the ancient courts with a charming smile in place to match. *sips my tea* Exquisite~

91. What is their song?

So, if I do like the implications that 'Once We Were' gives, and Solas and Fane like more gentle songs like that.

But me, personally? I adore 'Red Like Roses' from RWBY for these two. It just hits a lot of key points for me about them, but I seriously have to get a playlist together since so many songs make me thing of these two. 'Bad Habits' by Ed Sheeran is one that makes me think of them, too. Mainly Fane, but some parts fit for them together. *urge to compose a playlist intensifies*

Thank you so much for the ask, my friend! These were a lot of fun ones! But then again, all of them are! X3

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 42

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34|| CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: i hope you enjoy this! i really hope its worth a read! please send me requests for the few chapters left. i have the last chapters totally planned and they cant really be changed, but i can add a few things in them. as for the next few chapters, just send me anything you want for them!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! :  i changed it a bit i hope its ok! i used an other request for the chapter but it was part of many requests in the same ask so im not adding it in case i use the rest too. basically, it says “Louis being upset at losing his roommate”

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 42 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

May 21st, 2018

I was happy that Dylan hadn't asked Heidi to be there the next day since we were about to film the scene I feared the most. Niall had a few things to do but he told me he'd join me a bit later on the set. If I wanted to be honest, though, I was sort of happy he was not there, if only because this scene was going to be tough to play and knowing he would be there when I was filming it would make me even more nervous.

I jumped slightly when someone knocked at the door and walked to it with a frown. I had decided to eat in my dressing room if only to be alone and try to get back in those horrible feelings I had when Niall broke up with me. I remembered the rain, I remembered running away, I remembered the way he was looking at me and the way my heart twisted in my chest, feeling like it was stuck in a vice. I remembered the tattoo I had just got of a heart around his name, on the skin of my back, and how much it seemed to burn. I remembered running to Louis and crying with him. I remembered everything of that night. It was so vivid I felt like I would never forget. I knew this memory would never be blurry, I knew I'd remember every fucking second of it for the rest of my life.

When I opened the door, Dylan looked up, and my heart skipped a beat when I realized how vulnerable he looked with his sad eyes and his hands in his pockets. I was used to the confident and funny man who had been my rock for so many months. Now he looked exhausted and hurt.

"Can I come in?"

I nodded and licked my lips, moving away to let him in and I closed the door as he turned around to face me. We remained in front of each other just staring in each other's eyes until I moved my arm to show him the couch.

"Please, sit."

We kept silent for a few more minutes after sitting down and all I could hear was my heart thumping against my rib cage. I didn't know why he was there and I didn't want this conversation to turn bad. I knew what kind of person he was though and I knew it would most likely not end up in screams and insults, but he was with Heidi now, and I knew what she was capable of.

"I'm sorry, Olivia." he finally let out with a sigh before rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry for bringing Heidi here yesterday. I mean, I didn't even invite her she sort of... invited herself. But that's not the point, I mean I knew how you felt about her and I promise I didn't do that to piss you off, or make you uncomfortable."

My lips parted and after a while, they curled slightly. "I know, don't worry about it." I just shook my head a bit. "But Dylan, are you serious? I mean Heidi? Really?"

"Does it bother you?" he asked with a sad smile as he looked up.

"No, it doesn't. You can date whoever you want it's just... I'm surprised. After all you said about her... After all we said about her." I corrected myself. "Just be careful okay?"

"Liv," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "I'm not gonna marry her. She just... eases the pain, I guess. Some sort of a rebound."

"Basically, you two fuck."

This time, he laughed and leaned against the couch. "Pretty much." he shrugged and put his gaze into mine, his smile faltering a bit. "She's no you, but she's not bad looking when naked."

This time, I let out a loud laughter that made him smile more. "As long as she keeps her mouth shut, maybe!"

"Yea, that doesn't happen often, unfortunately."

I laughed again and rolled my eyes before tilting my head and pressing my lips together, staring at him some more. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Dylan."

"No, I'm sorry." he lost his smile and closed his eyes for a few seconds before moving closer and leaning his elbows on his knees. I frowned, a bit stressed about why he was acting like that but when he sighed again, I held my breath. "I'm the one who told her. About you and Niall. I told her you cheated on me and that I said it was okay, and she asked when it was and she just.. connected the dots. It's my fault she made that instagram shit. I hope you can forgive me."

I swallowed hard still looking at him. I couldn't really blame him and I was a bit surprised that I didn't think that he could be the one who told her, especially after seeing them together a few days before. It was so obvious now and I mentally slapped myself for being an idiot.

"Done." I just replied with a small smile. "Anything else I can help with? World Peace? Starvation in third world nations? Anything?"

He laughed and sent me a small smile as I became more serious. I didn't want us to be on bad terms and yes, it felt weird to think that only a few weeks ago, we were supposed to get married, but we both needed to move on from that.

"Heidi and I we just... bonded over the fact that we felt betrayed, and we were sad and hurt, you know? We won't spend our lives together. I don't have feelings for her I'm just.. trying to move on."

I stared at him again, keeping quiet for a few minutes, not wanting to say something wrong. We had had good moments together, and I couldn't pretend I didn't miss him but at the same time, I didn't miss the love relationship we had. I was with Niall and no one else made me feel like he did. No one else ever did make me feel like Niall did, not even Dylan, whom I was ready to marry.

"I really hope it works, Dyl." I sent him a fond smile, tilting my head. "You deserve the best."

                                                      ----

May 22nd, 2018

What woke me up in the middle of my nap in the afternoon was a soft piano melody and before my eyes even opened, my lips curled into a fond smile. I put my pants on and got out of bed, following the music and yawning a bit on my way as I tugged at my hair. When I entered the living room, Niall looked up and sent me a smile as he kept playing and finally licked his lips, taking his hand away from the keys and raised his eyebrows.

"How did sleeping beauty sleep?"

"I don't know about her," I started with an other yawn. "but I slept very well, thank you."

"I was talking about you, silly!" he chuckled. "You sleep all the time, and you're beautiful. This is now officially my new nickname for you."

I raised my eyebrows and my lips parted as he laughed. "If you call me that, I'll start calling you Neil."

I smiled when I saw him grimace and finally sat next to him on the small bench, facing the piano. I've always wanted to play and at the same time, i loved watching Niall play. If only I could be as talented as he was in something... anything, really.

"You're so damn good, I swear, I'm jealous."

"My piano skills are pretty basic."

"Lies!" I quickly replied, turning my head to look at him and raising my eyebrows. "You always say that and we both know it's bullshit." I turned back to the piano and placed my hands on the keys as if I knew what I was doing. "Here's a little something I can play for you.”

I let an amused smile appear on my lips and finally used just two fingers to play a short song on the piano, missing one or two notes as I did. When I turned back to him, he was smiling big, trying not to laugh.

"Is that 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game'?" he asked, unable to stop a chuckle from escaping his mouth. "Played with literally two fingers?"

"Don't laugh! I taught myself that."

He started laughing anyway and I raised my nose up, pushing his upper arm with mine and making him laugh even more. He smelled good and he looked gorgeous. I was trying not to think about the fact that he was leaving in a few days and when I looked up at him, he licked his lips.

"Do you want me to teach you?"

My lips curled into a happy smile but I tried to hide it by pressing them together before nodding. He chuckled and proceeded to take my hands and placed them over the keys. I tried to listen to his instructions but my mind drifted away after a while as I looked at his fingers slide gently on the keys for a while before my eyes moved on his arm and up to his chest and his face. I stared at his lips moving for a few seconds before blinking a few times as I tried to get out of my thoughts.

"Are you sleeping again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a smile.

"No... no I just..." I shook my head and chuckled. "Play that song. The one you had in hands in my dressing room. You said you needed a piano well there's one. I want to hear you sing."

"I was teaching you how to play darling." he pointed out, making me tilt my head.

"Play Niall, please."

He stared at me and I felt my heartbeats accelerate. I couldn't believe I was here with him and that he was looking at me like that. After a while, he just nodded and licked his lips before his fingers glided on the keys again.

"Maybe we are the champagne lovers Lay in the dark, we are stargazing now Well, I don’t like it.

Rolling the dice just to feel the thunder Deep in the heart of a downward spiral Falling, we’re falling.

We should twist the knife Put it all to bed, I Need to understand what it takes to love again

So come on love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets Cause you got a hold of me baby, enough to pull me back in deep.

You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we’re tearing at the seams We‘ve both had enough of this, baby, so promise me that when you leave You won’t say you’ll come back to me.

Maybe we are the perfect strangers Only the stories left on paper now And I don’t like it.

We should twist the knife Put it all to bed, I Need to understand what it takes to love again

So come on love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets Cause you got a hold of me baby, enough to pull me back in deep.

You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we’re tearing at the seams We‘ve both had enough of this, baby, so promise me that when you leave You won’t say you’ll come back to me.

Come back to me You won’t say you’ll come back to me."

I felt a tear roll down my cheek and swallowed the lump in my throat with difficulty. Silent came back in the room and slowly, I brought one of my hands to his cheek, brushing my thumb on it gently. I loved how some of the lyrics really fitted us, and I couldn't explain how perfect it was. He knew how to add things in songs that were only obvious to us two, and I needed to learn how to do that, because when it came to writing my tv show, I knew it was more and more obvious with time that it was based on my story with Niall.

"Those lyrics about the sheets..." I just whispered before licking my lips and sniffing.

"We've been hiding under the sheets since we were kids." he explained even if I already knew what it meant. "Just you and me, in our world. And now I realize that it was our world because you're my world."

I started seeing blurry because of the tears in my eyes and blinked again to let them slide down my cheeks. He brought his hand over mine on his face but his eyes never left mine.

"You're so full of shit, Horan." I just replied in a whisper with a small chuckle.

"I mean it." he quickly murmured before I pressed my lips against his.

He kissed me back deeply and his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His lips parted against mine and he panted, making me whimper low. I let my hands slip under his shirt and I thought he was going to laugh at how impatient I was but instead, he moved slightly away, his lips still against mine.

"I'm gonna fucking miss you."

"How many times are we gonna tell that to each other." I whispered back, sliding my hands up his chest.,

He pulled away a bit to stare in my eyes and something twisted inside me. "I don't know, petal. Now too often I hope."

I pulled his shirt off and let it fall on the floor and I kept my lips pressed against his as he got up slowly, grabbing the hem of my shirt and taking it off too. He turned me around slightly, both his hands on my waist and when he kissed me harder, I leaned against the piano without thinking, hitting a few keys and making an horrible sound. We laughed against each other's mouths and I felt him pull my pants down, along with my panties. I wiggled slightly to take them off and pushed them away from us as I moved a bit and hit a few keys again but higher notes this time.

"Clumsy ass." he whispered with a chuckle.

"Hey it's your fault." I argued in a low tone before smiling wide.

I reached for his pants and unzipped them and when he took a step back, my eyes fluttered as I started at him. He took his pants off and when he pulled his boxers down, my lips parted slightly. I watched him sit back on the bench as I stood between him and the piano and he brought his hand to his dick, stroking it slowly. I ran my hand to my breasts as I stared at him and felt my heart jump in my chest at the sight.

He brought his free hand between my thighs and I propped one of my feet on the bench next to him before two of his fingers ran on my slit. He was staring at what he was doing and I let out a low whimper as his thumb found my clit. I was already turned on but feeling him touching me while looking at him touch himself was amazing and I licked my lips, moaning slightly louder.

"I just want to sit on your cock."

He let go of me but I noticed his fingers pressed harder around his cock as he looked up at me and it only took him a few seconds to make a quick head movement.

"Turn around and sit on me."

I felt my heart jump again and slowly did what I asked. I felt him spank me once as I held myself on the piano to sit slowly on him. His hand reached my right side as his left hand positioned his dick and I closed my eyes as I felt it slowly get deeper inside me until I was sitting completely on him.

"Fuck, bend down a bit."

I did as he asked, holding myself on the piano again and making an other unpleasant noise as I hit different keys. This time though, he didn't laugh. He ran his hands on my back, pushing on it gently again and he finally held my waist to help me move up and down on his cock very slowly, watching it slip almost completely out of me and then back inside me as I sat back on him a few times until he was balls deep.

"I fucking love watching my cock disappear in that pretty little cunt of yours." he admitted in a low tone before groaning low. "Fuck me, petal. Harder."

I started going harder as he asked and I tried to grip the piano with my fingers to get balance, my fingers making an annoying sound as they slid on it. My lips parted and I held my breath when I felt him push his thumb in my asshole and I let out a curse word, my movements faltering a bit.

"Don't you fucking stop." he just let out, spanking me with his free hand. "Nothing I want more than to cum deep inside you, pet. I want to feel you clench around me. Fuck, you're such a perfect little cumdump."

I held my breath at his words, feeling my whole body throb at the way he dirty talked to me, a bit surprised but aroused by his words. I was thinking about touching myself when I felt his arm slither around me to reach between my legs as the thumb of his other hand was still fucking my ass.

"You're gonna cum so hard, yea?" he asked, rubbing my clit and making me clench around him in motion. "All over my cock?"

I felt my eyes flutter and my head fell back slightly as I started shaking over him. He brought his arm around me to hold me against him as he kept rubbing my clit hard and fast and when I started cumming, he pushed me up slightly and started moving his hips up against me to reach an orgasm too. He only kept his tip inside me as he came and his fingers sank on both sides of my waist as he groaned loud.

"Fuck."

One of my hands fell on the keys again and I shut my eyes tighter as I got down from my high slowly. I felt one of his hands carress my back and he tapped my butt gently to incite me to get up, I felt his cum fall and when I turned around, some of it slid on my thighs while I bit my bottom lip, looking at his cum mixed with mine on his thighs.

It took him a few seconds to get up and he bent his head down to reach my lips with his. I heard the few notes from the piano as he kissed me and I chuckled against his mouth, making him smile.

"Loved it." he let out low with a smirk. "We literally just composed the best song ever together.”

I laughed and shook my head a bit, my lips brushing against his. "Yea, I don't think it's gonna be a hit." I admitted with an other laugh.

He laughed too and started kissing me slowly but deeply again until we heard the doorbell and both jumped. We both smiled and chuckled at the same time before the bell rang again and someone starting hitting the door quite roughly. I quickly rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who it was. and Niall frowned at me until we heard the voice.

"OLIVIA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" he yelled, making me laugh and roll my eyes. "PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON AND COME OPEN THE DOOR!"

"Why does he always get here when we're naked?" Niall asked, making me laugh.

"Hey, it's Louis, I expect nothing less." I pointed out as I was putting my pants back. "I'll go see what he wants, you get dressed."

I put my shirt on as I walked to the front door before swinging it open and sending a big smile to my best friend. He opened his arms wide and it took me only half a second before throwing myself at him. He held me close and I buried my face in his neck as I felt his head lean gently against the side of mine.

"So glad to see you, my queen. I missed you." his voice was low and his words seemed sincere. I could hear emotions in his tone and it made me smile as I gripped the back of his shirt tightly.

"It's been weeks." I just let out, making him squeeze me tighter against him.

"Who's fault?"

"Mine." I confessed in a murmur. "I'm sorry it's just... Niall..."

"Yea I know, I was the same the first few months I was back with El."

We remained silent for a few seconds but when I felt Niall's presence close to us, I felt something melt inside me, like him being close made me emotional.

"Okay Tommo, let go of my girlfriend now."

I chuckled and pulled away, my lips curling more when my eyes met Louis'.

"Oh yea, I saw the video at the airport," Louis laughed, nodding. "Told you it was just a matter of time, right Neil?"

"Right."

My boyfriend groaned but didn't add anything and I moved to let Louis walk in and close the door behind himself. He was so close to me I felt his body heat emanate from him. Niall wrapped his arms around me from behind and I felt him lean his chin on my shoulder. Instinctively, I leaned my head against him and it made Louis roll his eyes with a laugh.

"Alright, double date tonight, we're going to eat, and maybe a movie or something." Louis let out quickly. "Non-negotiable, be ready in two hours, I drive."

He winked at me before turning around and opening the door he had barely just closed and walking quickly to his car. Niall and I both watched him start the car and drive aaway and after a while, I chuckled low and shook my head.

"He's so annoying." Niall admitted, mumbling under his breath.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!"

Niall seemed to think for a few seconds and finally raised his eyebrows with an amused smile. "Okay, but you wear a skirt."

I rolled my eyes and laughed again, just shrugging. "Deal."

                                               ---

The restaurant was crowded and suddenly, I was scared people would take pictures and videos. I tried to push that thought away and tell myself it didn't matter but at the same time, I knew Niall liked to keep most things private so I tried not to touch him too much. I felt his hand on my naked thigh and smiled, pressing my lips together as I tried to ignore it.

"What are you wearing exactly?" Louis asked with a frown, leaning a bit against the table. "Is that a necklace with my friend Neil's face on it? How old was he back then? 12?"

"Funny." Niall let out sarcastically. "It's a gift from a fan and she won't take it off."

"That's a proof of love, Niall. Embrace it."

Eleanor rolled her eyes with a chuckle and I just laughed a bit. I looked at them and lost my smile suddenly. They were such a perfect and beautiful couple and it was a shame it had just hit me. I started wondering what people thought of the couple I made with Niall and I felt a bit nervous.

"We haven't done that in a while." Eleanor pointed out, taking a sip of her wine. "I know you've both been busy though. How's tour going? Not too hard being away from each other?"

"It's..." Niall started shaking his head.

"Hell." I finished his sentence. 

He turned his head to look at me before nodding slowly. "Exactly. But we manage."

And we did. It was not easy but we loved each other enough to actually want this to work and we both put effort into it. I knew Niall wouldn't always be on tour, and I wouldn't always be filming either. At some point, we would live together almost every day and I seriously couldn't wait. I could write from home, and he could do the same, and I knew it would go very well.

"Niall also asked me to move in with him!" I announced with a huge grin, raising my eyebrows. "About to move my stuff soon!"

I saw Louis' face change and he looked down at his plate before clearing his throat. "Really? When are you moving?"

I frowned when I noticed the emotions on his face but simply licked my lips. I didn't want to cause a scene, and I was not sure of how he felt, but knowing Louis, he was probably going to talk to me about it.

"Probably mid june, it's the only time Niall has a few weeks off. Then he'll be on tour for 3 months almost non-stop." I admitted, swallowing hard at the thought.

I didn't want to be away from him and at the same time, I didn't know if I really should follow him everywhere. I didn't want to be that kind of girl anymore but wanting to be with my boyfriend was not being needy, right? I also didn't really want to stay alone in his big house the whole time he'd be gone. It sounded quite sad.

We started discussing old memories, mostly those from the last tour, and I would roll my eyes when Louis would mention how bad I supposedly had it for Harry. I was pretty sure he knew I was in love with Niall even back then but he was trying to get a reaction out of Niall and I couldn't pretend I didn't find it a bit entertaining. Every time Louis would mention a memory of something romantic or sexual between Harry and I, Niall would squeeze my thigh without really realizing it.

I got up to go to the bathroom after a while and when I got out, Louis was waiting for me, his side leaned against the wall.

"Why are you always waiting for me next to the bathroom." I asked with a chuckle.

"I missed you, you know. I missed my best friend." he pointed out, ignoring my question. "And now you're gonna move in with him for the very first time and, I don't know, I feel betrayed."

I took a step closer to him and shook my head. "Louis, you were already supposed to be with Eleanor, remember?"

"That was when you were supposed to marry Dylan."

I tilted my head and sighed, licking my lips. "I know you hadn't changed your plans. I mean, you were going to live with El either way, and it's okay." I just explained. "I want to try it with Niall. I want it so bad, Louis. But we'll always be close, you and I. I think I need you more than you'll ever need me."

"One day every week."

"Mm?"

"I have to see you at least once a week." he specified. "Sometimes with Niall and El, sometimes just us two, but once a week. I'm not losing touch, you hear me?"

"I hear ya." I smiled and tilted my head.

"Good." he nodded, staring at me for a few seconds. "Are you sure you're ready for that? Moving in with Niall, I mean. It's not gonna be easy."

"I know. But I'm sure." I let out firmly. "He's my soulmate. He's always been. And apparently, I'm his soulmate too. Life couldn't get better than that."

[bangchanzz]

Lover’s Paradise

CHAPTER 4

JEON JUNGKOOK X READER

Summary: Idol!Jungkook and Celebrity!Y/N have been friends for years. For both of them, their friendship has always bordered on more than friends, but neither of them are brave enough to take the leap of faith and confess. But when Y/N hosts the boys of BTS at her suave LA mansion and somehow finds herself sharing a bed with Jungkook, who harbors a few dark secrets of his own, things spin out of control. Tensions rise as she shows them a glimpse of her suave superstar lifestyle, and secrets come out that could change people’s lives forever.

Warnings: Severe depression and anxiety. Mentions of suicide. Eventual smut. Mentions of sex acts. Virgin!JK. Heavy drug and alcohol use. Creepy male celebrities. Depictions of wild parties

Word Count: 3.2K

Author’s Note: She’s short but sweet. This was honestly my least favorite chapter to write. IDK why but it was. I didn't like creepy Drake even though he’s always given me creepy vibes. Also there's a surprise guest appearance lol

Lover’s Paradise Masterlist

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

Chapter 4

YOUR POV

Drake’s parties were legendary.

Part of the reason you had brought the boys along was because there was no way you weren’t going to go, but you felt bad about just leaving them in your house for a night while you partied, especially with your role of producer.

The party took place at his Beverly Hills mansion, a huge estate with one of the bougiest houses you’d ever seen. Everything was sleek and modern, the epitome of a tasteful bachelor pad.

Music vibrated the ground and the second you stepped out of the car you smelled the tang of alcohol and unwashed bodies. You grinned, your heart pounding as you gazed at the multicolored lights shining through the windows of the house.

“What are you smiling at?” Jungkook asked, appearing beside you as the others got out of the car.

You glanced over at him. He looked so good it hurt with his hair parted away from his face and a little bit of makeup enhancing his already stunning features. He wore a simple retro t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans, but he wore it well.

“I just love parties,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Heat bloomed across his cheeks. “You want to know something funny? I’ve never actually been to a party.”

“What?” you asked incredulously. “Never?”

He shrugged, looking away out of embarrassment. “I mean, I’ve been to like birthday parties and stuff, and I’ve been clubbing with my friends, but we usually have to get a private room because of the whole ‘fame’ thing.”

You smiled wickedly, taking his hand in yours. His skin was soft and just a little sweaty, but you didn’t mind. “I’m about to show you a whole new world,” you told him, and started dragging him towards the front door.

You lead him quickly through the crowd of people waiting to be admitted; mostly D-list celebrities and influencers hoping to be allowed in if the party got too quiet and needed more people.

Four burly bouncers in black SECURITY t-shirts blocked the doors, shouting at people that they couldn’t get in without an invite.

Jungkook pulled firmly on your hand. “Wait, Taehyung has my invitation-“

You scoffed. “You’re with me, you don’t need an invite.”

You approached the bouncers, Jungkook in tow, who took one look at you and moved aside.

“Enjoy your evening, Miss “Y/L/N,” one of them said as you walked past.

“Thank you!” you said over your shoulder, beaming up at the large man.

“Wow,” Jungkook muttered, holding your hand a little tighter.

And then the two of you were in.

The house was loud, the walls vibrating with the base from the built-in speakers as some rap song played above the chatter. People crowded the rooms, the smell of alcohol getting stronger. You glanced up at Jungkook to see him looking around the house with curious eyes, taking in the celebrities lining the walls.

A waiter in a formal uniform offered you a jello shot on a golden tray and you kindly took one for yourself and one for Jungkook.

“What is that?” he asked, taking the shot glass from your hand and eyeing it carefully.

“It’s a jello shot,” you explained. “It’s just jello with alcohol in it. Come on, take the shot with me. Ready?”

He eyed you with trepidation, taking in your easy smile and excited expression.

He finally sighed and smiled back, holding up his shot glass to clink it against yours and downed it on a count of three.

You easily slurped yours up, familiar with the careful nuances of the jello shot. Jungkook had a bit more trouble, not knowing you really have to suck to get the jello out and instead trying to use his tongue, sending you into a fit of laughter.

“Y/N!” you heard, and you turned around, putting the shot glass down on a nearby credenza. You saw Drake pushing his way through the crowd, a smile on his face as you locked eyes.

Here we go.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Drake said, engulfing you in a hug. As usual, his hands roamed a little more freely than you would have liked, and his hug was a bit tighter and a bit longer than you were comfortable with.

The man could spit bars and throw incredible parties, but he had always been just a little off to you, especially when he was around younger girls.

When you were finally able to pull away, you stepped back as far as you could until you ran into a wall of muscle—Jungkook. He placed a hand protectively on your back, an air of aggression around him that hadn’t been there before.

Clearly, he had picked up f your discomfort.

“Drake, this is my good friend Jungkook, from BTS,” you explained, introducing the two men. You tried ignoring the way Drake’s eyes kept flicking towards your cleavage.

Drake stuck out his hand and Jungkook shook it firmly, his greeting smile not quite meeting his eyes. The whole time he never moved from your side.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Drake said to Jungkook. “I’m a big BTS fan.”

“Really?” Jungkook said in English, his eyes wide with surprise.

Just then, Brandon appeared behind Drake, slapping him on the back and doing one of those half-handshake-half-hug things that guys do.

You took the opportunity to slip away, Jungkook right behind you.

You wordlessly lead him outside to the bar, ordering yourself a vodka cranberry. Jungkook ordered the same.

“He’s a little creepy, isn’t he?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the bar by your side.

“Never meet your heroes, Jungkook,” you muttered, not wanting to look at the expression across his face.

“What?” he asked, clearly confused.

You shrugged. “Most male celebrities are at least a little creepy. The fame gets to their heads and they get used to getting everything they want. They assume because fans are constantly throwing themselves at them that they can do whatever they want with every girl.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “That’s disgusting. Why do people tolerate that?”            You shrugged again. “They’re men. Powerful ones. If you’re a guy in Hollywood, people value you for being you. It doesn’t matter what you do. Men inherit this industry and think it makes them gods, even though its literally been handed to them. Men are allowed to make mistakes, especially at the cost of women.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment, taking in your words. “That doesn’t seem right to me. Morally, I mean.”

The bartender handed you both your drinks and you slid him a tip.

“Yeah, no shit,” you snorted. “Women have been saying that for years.”

He fell silent again, sipping his drink thoughtfully.

The air between you two was silent and heavy. “Enough depressing talk. Let’s have fun,” you told him, grabbing his hand.

You wanted to pretend that you were only holding his hand so that he didn’t get lost in the crowd, but truthfully, you just wanted to hold his hand.

You lead him around the party, introducing him to different model and actor friends of yours, all the while getting progressively drunker.

An hour or two later, the two of you stood alone for a rare moment, hands still intertwined.

“Let’s dance!” you slurred, falling against his chest as you move to let some drunk girls pass.

He put a hand on your waist to steady you, drunk and unsteady on his feet himself.

He grinned as you pulled him towards the dancefloor, finding Jin and Hoseok there already reveling in the music.

You moved your body to the beat, letting your hips drop and sway sensually. Dancing was second nature to you, especially when you were drunk. You abandoned all inhibitions and danced freely, letting your body just move.

At some point, you began teaching Hoseok how to twerk, and Jungkook left to go get another drink, and you tried not to miss the feeling of his hand in yours.

You jumped at the sudden feeling of a hand on your elbow, a small part of you gleeful at the idea that it might be Jungkook.

But the blue eyes, blonde hair, and rugged face belonged to the one and only Luke Hemmings, known more intimately to you as your ex-boyfriend.

“Luke!” you squealed, throwing yourself into his arms. He hugged you tightly, a chuckle reverberating through his broad chest.

Luke and you had been friends for years, having met at the first award show you ever attended some five years ago. You had dated for a brief period of time—before Shawn—but decided that you worked better as friends and mutually called it quits.

Despite everything that had happened between you two, he was still a close friend, and a welcome sight.

“Oh my god,” you laughed, pulling away and making a show of looking him up and down. “Have you gotten larger?”

“Shut up,” he groaned, laughing along with you, his Australian accent music to your ears. “How have you been? It’s been, what, a year since we last saw each other?”

“Yeah, because someone was busy on a world tour,” you joked.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, my mistake, it won’t happen again. I’ll henceforth be at your beck and call, milady,” he said with a bow.

You laughed and hugged him again, having missed your friend.

It was at that very moment Jungkook rejoined the group, but you were too busy hugging your ex-boyfriend to notice the way his face fell, or the second glass of alcohol in his hand that was meant for you.

Jin wordlessly took the cup from him, knowing exactly who it was for, and trying to mitigate the awkwardness that would ensue, his heart hurting a little for the younger boy.

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

JUNGKOOK’S POV

Jungkook felt like such an idiot.

He watched carefully, noticing the way you instantly gravitated towards Luke and your willingness to put your hands all over the broad expanse of his chest.

He noted your smile and the way your eyes lit up when looking at him.

Jungkook knew a little bit about your past relationship, having actually seen you two together back when you and Luke were dating.

It had been brief, you were at the same award show and hardly had time to chat; especially when you had been attached to Luke’s side, unable to take your eyes off of him for more than a few seconds. Jungkook, much like everyone else in a twenty-yard radius, had seen the young love reflected in both of your faces, seen the way you two acted like you were alone; like the only other person in the room that mattered was each other.

His heart had hurt then, but it was breaking now.  

Something in his chest fractured completely to see Luke throw a long arm around you and steer you away, stealing you from his little group.

His vision went red with rage, his body on fire with the anger coursing through his veins.

He had so desperately and foolishly hoped that tonight you could be his, that you wouldn’t abandon him to the finely dressed wolves that circled around him.

But just as quickly as that anger appeared it was gone, leaving a vacuous pit in its wake.

Jungkook realized just how alone he felt.

How scared he was of the black hole inside him that threatened to swallow everything he was and everything he promised to be.

But even that chronic fear paled in comparison to the fear he felt watching you walk away with another man, and what that might mean about his own inadequacies.  

He downed his drink in one gulp, then grabbed the drink from Jin’s hands and downed that too. He was distantly aware of the burn in the back of his throat, but he didn’t care. He deserved it.

The older boy looked at him with concern, placing a slender hand on his arm, only for Jungkook to shrug it off.

“Jungkook-“

“I’m fine,” he snapped, staring after you and Luke for a moment. “I just need another drink.”

And with that he stalked off towards the bar, ready to forget the broken feeling inside him.

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

YOUR POV

Sometimes you forgot how well you could drink until you were in a room with people who couldn’t.

You had gone to college at a party school. You were quite accustomed to going to raging parties on the weekend and getting trashed with your friends, and then on weekdays drinking wine by the bottle and watching trashy reality television. So needless to say, after years of drinking the way you did, it would take a lot more than some shots and a few cocktails to get you anywhere near drunk.

The same could not be said for Jungkook.

After several hours of drinking he had downed several vodka cranberries and a handful of jello shots, and it did not sit well with him. Jimin and Namjoon had stuffed him into an Uber and took him home not too long before you decided to depart as well.

You got home around 3AM, opening your front door wearily with your heels in your hand.

You went upstairs and crept into your room, taking your time getting ready for bed and drinking water.

As you got into bed, your movements apparently jostled Jungkook enough to wake him up and the next thing you know he’s sitting up in bed running a hand through his raven hair. He looked like hell.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He shook his head, his hair falling into his face. “T’s okay. I wasnt ‘sleep anyway. Mm not supposed to mix alcohol with my pain meds. Oops, I guess. Now I don’t feel good.”

You glared at him, panic settling into your chest. “Jungkook, that stuff is really dangerous. Why would you do that?”

He flopped back onto his pillows and looked up at you with wide brown eyes. “How’s your night with Luke? I figured you would’ve stayed at his place or something.”

You gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

He blinked up at you, his expression foreign. “Saw you walk off with him, and I saw the way you looked at him so I figured…”

Annoyance flashed through you. “Well, you thought wrong. I hung out with him and his band mates for a bit, and when I found you guys again, they said you got too drunk and they had had to take you home.”

He had the good sense to look sheepish at your tone. “Oh,” he said meekly. “Sorry.”

You said nothing as you settled into bed, letting the annoyance radiate off of you. He had absolutely no right to assume that about you and Luke… but did that mean that he was jealous?

“You guys just have good chemistry is all…” Jungkook slurred. “And you looked really happy with him, so…”

“Yeah,” you snapped. “We’re friends.”

“Are we friends?” he asked suddenly, turning to stare at you with wide eyes illuminated by the moonlight. You could smell the alcohol still on his breath, or maybe that was your own. You couldn’t tell.

Your anger began to dissipate the longer you stared at him, taking in the sharp cuts of his face and the way the gentle starlight reflected off his skin.

“Duh,” you finally said, gesturing to him. “You’re sleeping in my bed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning over to stare at the ceiling. “I guess I am.”

You marveled at the way his raven hair contrasted his golden skin, resisting a strong desire to reach out and see if it was as soft as it looked.

“Sometimes,” he began slowly, like he was choosing his next words very carefully. “It doesn’t feel like we’re friends.”

Anxiety began churning in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

He began frantically shaking his head. “No, never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, Jungkook, please, if I’ve done something wrong please tell me so I can fix it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as the guilt and panic rushed through you over something you didn’t even know you did.

He sighed deeply, searching for his next words.

“T’s just that we have such different lives, and sometimes I don’t know if I fit in yours all the way. And it scares me.”

Your heart dropped. You hated that you made him feel this way.

“I…” you stammered, desperately trying to find the words. “You do fit into my life, Jungkook. You fit perfectly.”

“You promise?”

You smiled at him. “I pinky promise.”

His only response was a hiccup and a soft smile.

A loose piece of hair found its way into his face and his solution was to blow it away, only to have it fall right back where it was.

He looked so adorable, so carefree in this moment you wanted to treasure it forever. He looked so much like the Jungkook you had known the last time you were in Korea: the shy but powerful and goofy Golden Boy that could light up a room with his laugh. This was the first time you’d caught a glimpse of him this entire trip.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out a hand and lightly brushed the hair from his face. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way your heart longed for him to be content like this more often, or maybe it was both, but you ran your hand through his soft hair and let it drop down to his face, cupping his cheek. His skin burned beneath your touch. He only hummed in response and leaned into your palm.

“Mm tired,” he murmured.

You laughed softly. “Yeah, I bet. Go to sleep, Kook. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As you took your hand away, he suddenly grabbed it, his eyes snapping open to reveal panic. “No, wait,” he begged. “Will you hold me?”

You froze, unable to let yourself process what he just said.

“I don’t feel good,” he continued, “and I just want someone to hold me and give me banana milk.”

The pout in his voice roused you back to reality. “I’m afraid we’re fresh out of banana milk but I can provide the cuddling. Come here.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he scooted towards you until he was close enough to rest his head on your chest and entwine his arms around your body.

“You’re warm,” he murmured into your neck.

You hummed in response.

It was… nice to be held like this, to be needed. It had been a while since the last time you’d been with someone and you realized how much you missed this closeness.

You absentmindedly began playing with his hair, something he clearly enjoyed as he snuggled closer to you.

“I missed you,” Jungkook said quietly.

Heat bloomed in your chest. “I missed you, too, Kook,” you replied, resting your cheek on the crown of his head and closing your eyes with a sigh.

Within minutes you were both sound asleep.

[iffyswriting]

Star Quality

Pairing: Pardison Fontaine x Black! Thick! OC

Summary: A story with some smut at the end. May give it a part two, I don't know yet.

I don’t know about y’all but that fine ass man right there got my ovaries on LOCK.

I blame my friend, Dom for this. She encourage the whortivity.

Anyway enjoy,☺🥴

The light shined bright on my face, my eyes slightly blinded. Anxiety rested in my chest as I looked over all the people in the stands. So many of them were screaming, pumped up with excitement. So many were screaming my name.

All these people here just to see lil ole me.

I searched through the crowd, hopeful to see his face but I knew he wasn't going to be here.

I wanted to be wrong but what's true is just what it is.

I blinked back my tears as I began with my first song of the night 'Heartbreak'. I started strong, singing my heart out as things went on my lyrics hitting closer to home.

My mama told me to stay away from the industry niggas.

If we both wanted a career, it'd never work she said. I didn't listen because I figured who better to understand me, than someone with my exact goals- we could be an it couple, we could be successful together.

I should've listened.

The year before.

"And you said we'd be late." I teased, taking my bodyguard, Tommy's hand as I stepped down from the car.

"You took your sweet ass time at the Hotel."

"My makeup is a whole regime- one lash out of place and my whole energy is off." I said matter of factually, pleased when he didn’t reply.

I looked up at the radio station, my heart swelling with happiness. I'd never been invited to do an interview before- I've never been famous before either. This year was full of firsts for me and honestly, I'm ready to accept it all.

"Nervous?"

"Not nervous- terrifyingly happy, I'll say."

"Those don't go together."

"A lot of things I do don't but I make it work." He chuckled to my side, his laughter easing my nerves. 

Plopping into a chair, I bounced in my seat giving the biggest grin I could to everyone in the room. You could say I was a little too eager.

"We got brand new artist- Sincerity in the building!" He started off cupping his mouth to make an echo effect.

"Wassup y'all!" I said excitedly, my bubbly giggle bursting through.

"I see your animated this afternoon.”

"I'm grateful as hell to be here, that's why."

"We're just as happy to have you." He spoke returning my grin. "Let's talk about your new hit single, Black Jack that just hit number 2 on the top 100 in the U.S. and number 12 worldwide. How does it feel as a new artist to become this popular, this fast?"

"It feels so good and so unexpected. When I recorded it, I had high hopes but they never went up this high."

"I guess that's on me for having such low expectations," I said shaking my head.

"Could you tell me the meaning of the song? Give a little insight."

"Black Jack is about gambling with your life and all the decisions you want to make with so little time. Everything we do feels like we're playing a game of chance and I think my song with its fast-paced beat really gives you that feeling."

"Any inspirations?"

"You'd be surprised to hear this but I had such a huge mixture of music growing up."  "Like from Lauryn Hill to Bjork, I was everywhere and I think that really shows in the songs that I make. I like to be versatile.”

The energy in the room shifted slightly and I braced what was he was going to say.

"So recently you've taken pictures with New York rapper, Pardison Fontaine." Tommy gave me a look and I sat up straighter, paying attention. Nervousness started to run through me because anything I say could be critical to my career.

Junior was a lot like other radio people, messy as hell because that's what people like to hear. They're interested in you but they're more interested in the drama that surrounds you because it creates traction.

My manager, Shanice couldn't come but she prepped me the night before telling me what to do. 

"Yeah, we took them at Meg's birthday party! It was so much fun." I said nodding my head at the memory. " I took pictures with a bunch of other people too."

"But Pardi is in all of them, one way or another."

"We were sitting together. We talked throughout the party."

"About what?" Junior looked me in the eye, his slick smirk making me scoff. He was trying to get into my head but I stayed resilient.

"About business deals and music really," Pausing, I leaned into the mic closer continuing to talk.

"I can admit he cute or whatever," I said with an eye-roll, everyone else laughing with me.

"But there's literally nothing between us, I super duper promise," I say crossing my heart. " We're just friends- friends, who when they cross paths, take a whole lot of pictures and talk."

"That's it?"

"Dassit." I said quickly, laughing afterward. The disappointment in his face spoke volumes and He looked like he wanted to press further but he knew he couldn't. He moved onto the next question, my interview going much smoother.

Finally leaving the radio station, my phone started to buzz in my hands. I already knew he was gonna call me the minute it ended and I took my time to answer letting it ring a little longer.

"You make me sick."

"Now, I know that's a lie." Pardi, or Jordan as I called him said, I could practically see his smirk over the phone.

"You don't know shit."

"So, I'm just cute or whatever?"

"Ain't that what I said?"

"You've said more than that."

"I been lying." I admitted playfully

"That easily? Wowww-" He faked shock and I bit back a smile, scratching at my hand. Despite my dodging, he did make my stomach flip inside out and made me think things I know I shouldn’t have been.

"You seemed to be so tuned into the radio today- I thought you didn't listen unless you were on it?"

"I had to support my girl."

"I'm your girl? That's crazy."

"You always gonna be my girl." I let out a breathless laugh, my heart thumping in my chest like a drum.

"Okay, Jordan."

"Come see me." He said confidently making me raise an eyebrow.

"See you where?"

"At the studio. You know that's my second home." It was mine too and my mama was constantly down my throat about not being stable with my sleeping. 

"Who else gon' be there?"

"Nobody. Just the two of us." Blinking, I opened my mouth trying to find a response. 

"You plotting, you're trying to get me all alone."

"You gonna fall for the trap?"

"Maybe” Feeling frisky, I pushed harder. “I don’t feel so convinced, though.”

"If you come, I'll mix something for you."

"Something new?"

"Brand spanking new, baby." He slapped something for emphasis and I shrugged my shoulders like he could see me. 

"I'm feeling a little persuaded-"

"I also happen to have some new music- you know I trust your judgment." He came to me for a-lot of things, whether it be a critique or some advice we talked about so much. 

"Since you're begging me at this point, I'll show up."

"I can't wait." I could hear his grin and I couldn’t suppress my own anymore, full on biting my lip as a smiled.

"Don't cream your pants, now."

”I won’t even say what I’m thinking,” He chuckled. “See you in a second, Nelle.” 

“Bye, Jordan. “ Clicking off my phone, Tommy stared at me- a smirk on his lips. The kind i absolutely hated. 

"What?"

"Nose wide open over that boy."

"Just like I told Junior, I'm gonna tell you."

"We're just friends."

*********

Watching intently as his fingers danced over the keys, one by one he let my head lean on his shoulder. He made me feel so comfortable, his shoulder felt like a hard pillow. 

"How long you been playing the piano?"

“A long ass time.”He thought for a second. “My mom’s wanted me to be productive with something and music became that something.” 

"I want a kind of interlude, you know with the piano playing the back. Soften the soul you know?"

“Yeah, I can see it.” 

I opened my mouth to sing a couple of notes as he kept going. He went up higher and I followed suit, going low when he went he low too. He found somewhere steady and I let my voice rest there with him, finishing softly.

The way he looked at me, his eyes trained on my face so hard it's like he was entranced. Being his center of attention made my heart swell.

"I ever tell you, how much I wish I could sing."

"You know how to hold a tune."

"Nah but if I could belt out like I want, I'd be all over the place."

"How you feel singing from your chest." Taking his hand I pressed it right to my breast, and looked him in his eyes.

"It's like grabbing something from within and pushing it out." I took one deep breath and then another his hand rising with each breath I took.

His hand slowly dragged up my neck to touch my cheek. He seemed hesitant at first but I leaned further into his hand, moving in closer.

We kissed softly to test the waters but we weren’t gentle kind of people. The second kiss felt more impassioned and aggressive, as I sighed behind his lips his touches all over my body jolting me.

He placed his hands on my waist pulling me onto his lap. With my legs on either side, I pressed my panties against his clothed shorts grinding on him so he could feel how wet he was making me. 

"What we about to do here?"

“The fuck you think.” I said impatiently, swiping my gloss off his bottom lip even though I was going to stain it some more. 

“I’m just wanna know before, we get too deep.” 

"I know what I want."

"Do you?" Pressing my hand against his chest I started to unbutton his shirt, keeping up eye contact. 

"I do."

Scrunching my dress up around my hips, he pushed my thighs apart pressing his fingers onto my clit. He was gentle swiping against it but I want him to be rougher.

He lined up his tip and slid inside making me gasp. I threw my arms over his shoulder, my fingers becoming entangled in his curls as I bounced on his dick our cum echoing in the room. 

He gripped my ass, making me bounce faster. 

Standing up from the chair, we kissed as he stroked up into me. My back hit the cold glass and something clicked on behind me but with how good he was fucking me I couldn't care less.

"You feel so fucking good-" One of his hands grasped my neck, the other touching the dip of my back to get in deeper. I bit back a smirk, my breasts heaving up and down as he picked up speed.

His deep groans of pleasure, rumbled in my ear and into the pit of my stomach. 

I clenched around him slowing things down, his hand tightening it's grip. He guided my face up, sloppily french kissing me our tongues melding together. He pecked my lips one more time gazing at me.

“You gotta take it.” He mumbled, making me wrap my legs around his waist entrapping him.

I pushed him back onto his chair, plunging him back inside of me. 

“I’m not the one who needs to take it.” I said breathlessly, kissing his neck lining hickies where his tattoos were.

His chest rose and he shuddered underneath me, his big hands on my back rolls guiding me clearly as I fucked him into the chair. My thighs clapped together and I moaned quietly stopping in my tracks as my orgasm started to crash onto the horizon.

He pushed my thighs back open, circling my clit so I could cum all over his dick. He pulsated inside me and every movement made me feel more sensitive as minutes ticked on. 

“Gon head and cum.” He teased me, bringing our lips together once more. He swallowed back my moans, easing me into a steady lull of pleasure.

I came seconds later, a trembling mess. His name tumbled from my mouth in repeated chants, his strong arms surrounding my hips to keep me in place. He sat still in me, his own body barely holding on. 

I couldn’t tell if you it was lust, or the fact I had in the palm in my hand but as I ground onto him knowing he was going to cum in me, the power and love I felt was unmatched.

He stopped trying to stop me, relishing in his satisfaction as he painted my walls white. His cum filled me up to the brim and I slid back watching it ooze out a little, the sweat on pooling my forehead sliding between my breasts.

He caressed each part of fat on my body the look in his eyes so intense, my heart barely matched it. He said 4 words that cemented everything and from there I was locked in.

“Let’s do this again.” 

[ofwizardsandmen]

Pride and prejudice

Characters: Minah Delacroix, Enzo St. Pierre, Johnny Suh, Leah Richmond

Word count : 1,3k

Collection of drabbles in which Tara & Mark's friends react to their engagement

Mayfair - Beauté+

“I can’t believe them” Enzo St. Pierre’s voice echoes in the silence of Minah’s large office. For a man with quite a free-spirited approach to life and his easy-going temperament, he sounds particularly bitter. Minah ignores her friend for a brief moment in favor of the contract in front of her. After all, Enzo had installed himself on the pink velvet sofa across her desk hours ago and so far he’d done nothing but to watch her go through paperwork as he scrolled down his OwLine’s —Sungjae’s latest social media app— feed.

Now, despite the rumors that circulate about him, Minah knows that Enzo Saint-Pierre is not one to enjoy watching women like some creep. No, Enzo can’t lie for his life —at least not to Minah—, so she is aware that the only reason he’s pretending to wait for her approval before embarking on a new project is the long-forgotten mail in his office that keeps —literally— exploiting on his desk.

Biting down a laugh, the young woman watches Enzo toss his phone on the couch with a scoff and the sudden urge to discuss Gossip Witch’s latest blast prompts her to push aside the stack of documents in front of her.

“So you heard about the Olivier’s launching a lipstick collection?” she asks visibly amused.

“What?” For a second or two, Enzo seems the slightest bit perplexed, but his confusion quickly morphs into a disgusted frown. “Eww. No. That’s obviously a desperate attempt to one-up our company and we’ll get back to this real quick, but I am talking about Tara and Yang” Enzo says, leaping out of his seat to slide his phone across Minah’s desk.

Minah can’t remember a time Enzo has ever used that uncharacteristic whiny tone to talk about his best friend and her boyfriend, so she eyes him with a confused frown.

Moving closer to her, Enzo simply deadpans “They got engaged”.

“Engaged?” The young woman looks at Enzo over the rim of her Dior reading glasses, almost refusing to believe one of their closest friends —and arguably the wisest of them all— would make such a life-changing decision overnight. This is surely her business partner reading that Gossip Witch rip-off website again. “Love, I’ve told you to stop reading that fake Gossip Witch page-”

Enzo rolls eyes fleetingly before pushing his phone closer to Minah. “This is real, Min. Look for yourself”

Still downplaying the situation, Minah slowly takes her glasses off and grabs Enzo’s phone. She almost has an “I-told-you-so” escaping from her crimson lips when her eyes catch a glimpse of a red box on the screen. Minah blinks twice before reading Tara’s very simple message. “Mark proposed”. Two pictures are attached as proof: the first one shows a huge diamond ring —Cartier, evidently—; the other captures Mark and Tara smiling brightly to the camera, he's holding his guitar with one hand while his free arm holds his girlfriend's waist.

“Well, this is-“ Minah flounders at a loss for words, unsure of what and how she is supposed to feel. Surely those are good news, but there is also a part of her that feels wronged by the fact she is finding out about them through a message sent to Enzo.

“Horrible” Enzo completes the unfinished sentence, a huff slipping past his lips.

“No!” Minah is quick to deny. She throws her shoulders back and fixes her position to appear composed “I mean, completely unexpected yes, but those are great news.” She goes on, in an attempt to brainwash herself into believing she isn’t offended at all “I just-“ The woman purposely ignores the way Enzo rolls eyes for a second time and instead reaches for her own phone, secretly hoping that Tara had the courtesy to inform her too. “Isn’t Mark famous? Why would he propose without a big eve- wait, did he plan a proposal event and kept us out of it?” She bombards Enzo with questions as she goes through the dozens of messages she’d received that morning, a cold trickle of anger shivering down her spine when she realizes she has received the exact same message.

___

Camden Town - Leah Richmond’s house

On the other side of Regent’s Park, in a small residence in Camden Town and with Natalie Imbruglia’s most —and probably only— famous song playing in the background, Leah Richmond walks into her kitchen to find the broad-shouldered and tall figure of Johnny Suh. Her first instinct is to laugh at how ridiculously cute her boyfriend looks, dressed in a simple t-shirt, cuffed jeans that barely cover his ankles, and a yellow apron with a silly duck print, but upon registering the way he is angrily holding a frying pan and a plastic spatula, she decides against it.

“Is this about to become another how-do-you-even-survive-without-me speech?” Leah questions biting the inside of her cheek when he turns to look at her. The fact she has gotten used to Johnny’s slightly obsessive cleaning habits and long rants that remind her of her mother doesn’t mean she’s learned to appreciate them. Especially not when she has huge news to deliver. “If yes, I’d like to skip it or save it until you hear the news. I was on the phone with Tara and you won’t believe-”

“How stupid Mark is?” Johnny interrupts, he places the frying pan and the spatula on the counter before turning to the fridge. “You’d think he can’t possibly get worse, but he always delivers. I’m actually glad Tara is…” Johnny makes a pause to look at Leah and see her reaction, so far she looks perfectly confused. “…so brainwashed or so in love, whichever it is” he shrugs, earning a soft chuckle from his girlfriend.

“Wow, news surely travel fast.” Leah rolls eyes playfully and clicks her tongue disapprovingly “And Tara said I was the first person she called”

“Well, Mark was panicking and about to tell Tara he was joking, so-” Johnny pulls the fridge open with such force the door ends up hitting the wall. Johnny stops on his tracks, shocked by his own strength and expression mildly panicked making its way onto his face. Leah still wants to laugh, but there’s something holding her back, something she can’t quite figure out yet

In its place, she glares at her boyfriend until he’s purposely avoiding her eyes. “Great, destroy my house because you’re jealous of your crush getting married”

“And who are you even marrying to?” Johnny replies smoothly, earning himself a quick peck on the lips and a soft slap on the shoulder. Leah also gifts him with an inexplicable warmth spreading in his chest as she laughs.

“Now, for real, I know Tara doesn’t really care about that kind of thing, but I can’t believe Mark improvised a proposal.” Johnny pulls out a carton of eggs, picks a couple of tomatoes and pushes the fridge close with a loud thud. “That’s no way to ask the love of your life to marry you, where did he even learn about relationships? Clearly not from me or Taeyong” Johnny shakes his head in disapproval as he moves around the kitchen opening cabinets and taking out ingredients and supplies “I hope Mark is dealt with accordingly, no woman deserves such a lackluster proposal. Especially not Tara.”

“Well, knowing Ara and Adela, I’ll be surprised if Mark even makes it to dinner tonight” Leah chuckles “And don’t forget Enzo”

“Or her brother” Johnny shudders involuntarily when the image of Tyler Lee invades his mind. “Tara will be lucky if Mark even makes it to the wedding”

Minutes later when Johnny settles a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of steaming coffee in front of her and complains about Mark’s “lack of creative effort in the romance department”, Leah finally dares to ask a question that has been reverberating inside her brain. “Hey, Suh, what’s the right way to propose to a girl then?”

Johnny is briefly taken aback. His eyes widen the slightest bit and he gulps almost imperceptibly before replying with a smart “You’ll know when I do it” that leaves Leah bursting out in laughter but feeling oddly flattered.

...