#need to work on the guest list and stuff

[aventurineswife]

Can i ask... hsr men with a reader who always calls them by their name, when the reader suddenly uses a pet name, an intimate one at that out of nowhere? Like, would they ignore would they get flustered or stuff?

“Call Me That Again and I’m Yours”

Synopsis: They’ve always known you as someone steady—reliable, composed, respectful. Names were a boundary you never crossed. Until you did. Suddenly, a soft pet name slips from your lips—they can only respond in the only way they know how.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Mydei x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Caelus x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Romantic Tension, Emotional Vulnerability, Subtle Fluff, Soft Pet Names, Slow burn/Sudden Intimacy, Banter turning Tender, Hurt/Comfort (esp. for Mydei and Sunday), Stoic Men Unraveling, Subtext and Suppressed Feelings, Unexpected Reactions.

Warnings: Light mentions of blood (Mydei's scene), Slight angst / emotional baggage, Suggestive tension (Aventurine, Dan Heng), Emotional themes (e.g., trauma, guilt, redemption).

A/N: I might have to do multiple parts of this req, so let me know which characters you wanna see next! :DD

You’d always called him Aventurine—not Kakavasha, never anything soft. Just Aventurine. Clean, professional, distant. Even during your playful banter or those late-night strategy sessions when his voice dipped and his eyes lingered a little too long, you’d kept the line firm.

But tonight, as he adjusted the roulette brooch on his collar, you walked past him, leaned in, and murmured, “Looking sharp tonight, darling.”

He froze. For precisely 0.5 seconds—a brief hitch in his well-oiled persona. His fingers paused mid-adjustment, and the ever-present grin twitched, faltered… then curved into something slower. Something far more dangerous.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes flicking to yours like dice clattering on velvet. “Did my ears deceive me, or have you just raised the stakes?”

You arched a brow, amused. “I figured it was time to gamble a little.”

His smile widened, but you saw it then—the faint crack in his composure. The way his hand ghosted behind his back, fingers twitching in the air like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer or push you away. That name—it wasn’t just cute. It was intimate. Dangerous. It threatened the mask he so carefully wore.

“Careful,” he whispered, stepping closer until your breath caught. “Use that word again, and I might start to think you mean it.”

You smiled back, just as daring. “Maybe I do.”

And just like that, for once, you’d left him unsure who was winning.

“Sunday, we need to address the guest list again. The ceremony’s balance will collapse if—”

“—We include the North Sector delegates, yes,” he interrupted gently, hands folded, gaze serene. “I am already aware.”

You sighed, scribbling notes. Same old Sunday—graceful, poised, untouchable.

“Fine, love, but if this flops, I’m blaming you.”

Silence.

You didn’t catch it at first. His reaction was… almost imperceptible. The pen stilled between his gloved fingers. His eyes flicked toward you with the smallest shift of light. There was no smile, no obvious response, but something behind his gaze unraveled—like a ripple across still water.

“…‘Love’?” he repeated quietly, voice low, measured.

You looked up, unsure if you should laugh it off. “It just slipped.”

“I see.”

He returned to his work, posture perfect—but you noticed he hadn’t written a word since. His mind was elsewhere. The halo above his head shimmered subtly, like it pulsed in time with his heart.

It wasn’t embarrassment. It was something deeper. As if the word had struck a chord he’d long buried—something warm, painful, human.

“…You shouldn’t use a word like that lightly,” he finally said, glancing at you again.

“And if I didn’t?”

His lips parted, then closed. No answer. But his gloved hand slowly reached over and rested on yours, just for a moment. A silent concession. A rare flicker of vulnerability.

You'd breached something sacred—and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull away or fall in.

You found him alone after the skirmish, sitting on the edge of a ruined stone altar, cape torn, armor dusted with ash. The blood wasn’t his, but it stained his hands all the same.

“Mydei,” you called softly, approaching him through the rubble.

He didn’t look up. “I told you to stay with the others.”

“I don’t take orders well.”

A pause. Then a sigh—more relief than exasperation. His eyes finally met yours, heavy with exhaustion and something else: grief he didn’t voice, names he couldn’t forget.

You reached out, thumb brushing a line of red from his jaw. “You’re safe… Beloved.”

He blinked.

“Say that again.”

You tilted your head. “Beloved?”

He stood, slowly, towering, not in a threatening way—but like the weight of that word shifted the battlefield under your feet. He stepped closer until you had to tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“No one’s called me that since…” His voice cracked, just slightly. “Since before the sea swallowed me whole.”

You swallowed. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he said, reaching out with a hand trembling with restraint. “No, don’t stop.”

In a world where titles were earned through blood and legacy, beloved was the one name he’d longed for but never dared to claim.

You gave it freely—and that was the one war he didn’t know how to fight.

Dan Heng stood silently in the Archives, eyes scanning over glowing data logs. You approached, hands behind your back, watching the way the soft blue light played across his features.

“Dan Heng,” you said as usual. He hummed softly, acknowledging you without turning.

You reached his side, pretending to study the data, but your focus was on the curve of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow.

“I brought you some tea. Thought you could use a break, darling.”

The word slipped out, soft and syrupy.

Dan Heng froze.

His grip on the datapad faltered. He didn’t look at you immediately, but his ears turned a vivid shade of pink.

“…What did you call me?” he asked, tone low, almost cautious.

You played innocent. “Hmm? Oh, nothing, Dan Heng.”

He finally turned, eyes narrowed, a faint flush still lingering on his cheeks. “You did. Say it again.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Darling?”

He exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, trying to maintain composure. He failed spectacularly. The calm, cool Dan Heng couldn’t meet your eyes for a solid thirty seconds.

But when he finally did, he stepped closer.

“…If you’re going to say things like that,” he murmured, voice softer now, “Don’t be surprised when I stop pretending I’m unaffected.”

You and Caelus had been walking side by side after a mission, stars glittering above. You laughed about something he’d said, casually bumping your shoulder against his.

“You always do this, Caelus,” you said, teasing. “Charging in like you’ve got plot armor or something.”

“I mean, I might,” he joked. “Main character energy and all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure thing, love.”

The moment the word left your lips, silence fell.

Caelus tripped over his own foot.

He caught himself quickly, turning to you with wide eyes. “Wait. Did you just call me—?”

“I did,” you confirmed with a sly grin. “Something wrong with that, love?”

His expression shifted, uncertain whether to be flustered or flattered. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks blooming with color.

“I… No. I mean, it’s not wrong. Just. Unexpected.”

You nudged him again. “You’re cute when you’re trying not to smile.”

“I’m not trying not to smile,” he said quickly, then failed to hide the shy grin tugging at his lips. “Okay, maybe I am. Call me that again.”

The battlefield was quiet now, monsters defeated, the sunset casting golden hues across the ruins. Argenti stood tall, brushing dust from his armor with knightly grace.

You approached, hands behind your back.

“Argenti, you were amazing back there,” you praised, as always.

He nodded humbly. “Merely fulfilling my duty to Beauty and righteousness.”

You smiled. “Of course, beloved.”

Argenti blinked.

The word echoed.

He turned to you slowly, as if unsure he’d heard correctly. “Beloved…?”

You tilted your head, eyes innocent. “Yes?”

He pressed a hand to his chest, lips parting slightly in astonishment. “You honor me with such a name… Are you certain… I am worthy of it?”

“You’ve always been worthy,” you said softly.

He took your hand, kneeling with a reverent grace, eyes shining. “Then allow me to dedicate not only my blade but my heart to you. For Beauty may guide me, but you, my beloved, inspire me.”

You laughed, a little flustered yourself now.

Leave it to Argenti to turn one pet name into a poetic vow.

[existence-is-a-pain87]

Without Eyes I'm Blind

Part 2 to With Eyes I See. Please read Part 1 for the necessary context regarding the story. Thank you

Yandere!Forsaken x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors; darker themes; death; blood; murder; violence; cults; and more. Please read with caution, and to minors please read with EXTRA caution

Note: After I finish this mini-series, I'm gonna write more Dandy's World stuff with some Forsaken tossed in there. I'm also preparing to write a Block Tales thingy for a friend, so keep an eye out.

Also, futher note, when I was writing this Tumblr FUCKING CRASHED on me and I lost a ton of writing so I'm sorry this took awhile to come out. When it happened to me, I nearly tried to jump through a wall.

Also also, Guest 1337 wasn't included in this Part or Part 1 because in canon he's from a whole ahh different universe. Same with Jason. Don't worry, MC meets him in Part 3.

---

I almost forgot someone asked me to add a tag list to my main works. So here it is. If anyone else wants to be on it, just lemme know.

@amistakehadhappened

--☆☆☆☆☆--

You can't see anymore.

Your eyes are gone.

All you can do is feel. There isn't even darkness or pure light as people think blind people have.

Their is nothing. And you can perceive nothing via sight.

It's hell. You're in hell.

You just sit in a room, surrounded by soft and precious items as the cultists of the Spawn cult treat you with a holy reverence you don't deserve.

You are no angel.

But they like to think you are.

The chain around your neck is heavy. You can't move out of this room.

And god knows you can't find the key. You know your freedom is as good as dead.

That your life is good as dead.

You got a second chance, even replacing someone else's life. And this is what happened.

You hear the door to your prison cell open. They claim it's a room. It's a prison cell to you.

"Little bird, it's time to change your bandages." Two Time's voice rings in your ears. Too chipper. Too happy. They're too gleeful you're here. That you can't go.

"...fuck off." You whisper to them, and Two Time merely hums in response.

...

Two Time and Azure were the ones who took care of you as you were so helpless. You believed it was out of spite. They claimed it was out of love.

You hated them. You feared them. You wanted them gone forever.

You feel their hands gently undo the bandages around your eyes. They place their hands on your face, examining what remains.

You hear them click their tongue.

"Ah, you're healing so well," They muse, "Everyone will be happy to hear this. Soon enough, you may need no bandages at all."

You sit there in silence as they keep talking, redoing their bandages and leaving fleeting touches on their body.

But as you hear them get up to leave, you ask one question.

"Do you regret what you've done?"

There's silence for a moment.

"No." Two Time replies, "Because doing what I've done means never losing you. And I'd die before I lose you."

You hope their death is painful.

--☆☆☆--

You sit in the tub as Azure gently cleans you.

You despise moments like this. When you're alone with the ones responsible for this.

You don't move. You don't speak. You just exist there like a human doll as Azure keeps murmuring to you.

He pauses when you flinch when his hands touch your face.

You only move to pull his hands away from the bandages on your head.

"...you know I'm not going to do anything like that again, right?" Azure told you, "You can let others instead of Two Time change your bandages."

"You shouldn't have hurt me then." You bluntly replied, "Maybe then I wouldn't actively despise you."

Azure is silent, but you feel him press a kiss to your neck.

"I know you'll never forgive me, but I regret nothing." He tells you, "I just hope there is a day where you'll let me touch your face again."

You'll make sure there isn't.

--☆☆☆--

Time blurred together. But now, with no sight, it was actively hell to tell what time it was.

Perhaps it had been days since you lost your eyes. Maybe weeks. Or perhaps months.

You had no clue.

It could've even been years.

You hated this.

I have an offer to you.

At the voice that appears in your head, you naturally flinch and panic.

Calm down. Listen to what I have to say.

You have no idea who this is.

Then suddenly you see again. But it's purely red.

I have no name. I have no body. But I have power.

What did it want? You didn't know.

I want you. I know what you are. I can give you your sight back. I can give you more power. It will all have a cost, but you will have your freedom again.

You hesitate.

Only for a moment.

"You have a deal." You whisper aloud.

Don't you wish to hear what will offer.

"Tell me then. It won't change my answer."

...

...

...

You listened to all it had to offer.

Your body would change, and you'd need to consume flesh, blood, and the very life force of others to keep the sight it would give you.

It didn't have to be human. It could be animal, and plant in emergancy.

And it would always be able to keep tabs on you and take something from you sometime in the future.

You agreed immediately.

You held back your screams as your bones snapped and shifted, and as your very form transformed with uncomfortable pain.

You even blacked out for a bit.

But when you woke up, you could see again. Even if your eyes weren't back.

You just saw everything around you. Even through walls.

Your hair was longer now, and thicker. You knew why after you realized you could stretch out your hair into giant wings, four in total, with eyes along the tips.

Your ears were larger now, and almost goat-like despite being feathered. And short, horn-like antennae sticked out of your forehead. And you had three long tails that resembled a mix of ribbons and feathers that you could move as you pleased. And across your body were patterns of short feathers and your feet and hands resembled bird talons.

The entity apparently turned you into a bird. Or at least a human-like bird.

You knew there was more, but you wanted out before deciding to try out everything else you can do now.

You snapped the chain on your neck, it clattering to the floor as it held no use anymore.

You stood up and prowled to the door, peering out. When the coast was clear, you ran.

But now you were faster, and saw more.

It wasn't hard to find the way out now, even if you did get spotted.

You screeched as a knife flew into your arm as you were halfway out the door. Your head snapped to stare at who did it, and you saw...

The same woman who stabbed Gubby.

...

You decided to give yourself more time to see.

You charged, wrapping your hands around her neck as you threw her to the floor. You loomed over her as you felt your mouth stretch more wide than it ever could before. You felt the sharp teeth in your mouth almost grow.

And the last sound she made was a scream before your torn into her body.

There was practically nothing left of her after you feasted.

You stood over her, mind both buzzing with glee and regret.

But she hurt Gubby. She stabbed an innocent rabbit.

She deserved this.

She deserved it all.

As the others kept coming, you immediately ran again.

You didn't want to kill another human anymore.

However, if it was Two Time or Azure... or any of the cultists responsible for trapping you...

...yeah, you could make an excuse to do it.

But not now. Now you just want freedom.

So you ran. Ran as you were hunted down.

You ran and didn't stop.

--☆☆☆--

...just your luck you somehow ended up in a net trap like this was a cartoon, eh?

Your wings were out, pressing on the net as you couldn't get in a good position to rip the net without falling into the pit of spikes below you.

You weren't even sure how you got in the situation. Or why you were making bird sounds now.

You barely could think. You were just panicking. You were scared.

What if you were still being followed? You're trapped. They could get you again.

You didn't want to kill. You hated everyone in that damn cult and wished them death, but god, you felt worse committing murder.

Except on a select few, you'd gladly kill.

The sounds of footsteps fills your ears, and you freeze.

Oh god, is it the cultists?

You panic.

But it's not.

No.

You stay still as he approaches you, and you stare at his faceless head, his hood pulled down slightly.

You two stare silently at each other. Then he pulls out a knife.

You panic again, knowing enough of Taph's lore that he's probably going to end you to keep himself safe.

"Please, you have to help me-!" You blurt out, "Please, they're after me. Please! If they get me, I- I- I'm as good as dead."

Taph stares at you as you continue begging, desperate to not die again.

He doesn't put down the knife. Hell, he even raises it and you let out a small, almost-chirp-like sound in panic.

You flinch as he cuts you lose and catches you so you aren't impaled upon the spikes.

He beckons you to follow him, and you do. You'd rather not be captured by cultists again anyway.

Maybe you could trust Taph.

You hoped you could.

--☆☆☆--

Taph was very skeptical of you, so he kept his guard up around you.

You were just amazed he was willing to let you stay in his house. Even if he tended to avoid any interaction with you.

Though, you wanted to at least be on good terms with Taph. So you made him things like meals and helped clean up when needed.

Eventually, he started to warm up to you. You thought. At the very least he didn't leave the room when you walked in and taught you how to make a bomb.

It was a slow friendship that grew between you two. One of no judgment, and no hate. He couldn't speak and constantly lived in fear for his life, and you needed to hurt things just to see.

You both suffered together, and found bliss in it.

You were constantly terrified to lose this bliss, though. For Taph to witness you as a monster.

But you weren't fortunate enough to have him never catch you.

When he saw you for the first time, you were terrified.

---

You immediately dropped the deer corpse you were feasting on. You stared at the ex-demolitionist in horror, your mouth snapping shut like a bear trap as you couldn't stop having terrified trills and whines escaping from your mouth.

Oh god no- NO NO NO-

He saw you. He saw you eating. He saw you in your most monstrous state.

What if he hated you? What if he'd kill you?

You couldn't hurt him, not matter what he did.

Oh god- oh GOD-

You shake, your mind a mix of anxiety and animalistic terror.

As Taph crouches down, you bury you head in your hands and used your wings as a shield.

They gently nudge you, and you shake violently as you look up and see Taph offering you a chunk of the deer you were in the middle of eating.

You hesitate before taking it and feasting again, Taph gently petting your head in an attempt to comfort you.

---

It was that moment you realized he didn't hate you. He didn't even blame you for what you needed to do.

He was just kind. After that, he helped you catch your prey so it'd be easier for you to eat when you needed to, too.

You just helped pay him back more, and even started to go out of your way to deal with certain angry protesters when they found and got too close to his home.

You didn't want to hurt anyone. You didn't like killing people. But you didn't regret it if you did it to protect Taph.

You just tried to hide what you did from him.

You didn't know that he knew the whole time. And he didn't care.

The ex-demolitionist had his own secrets after all.

--☆☆☆--

Time blurred together while you lived at Taph's house. You lost track of the days since you got here, but it was fine. It was better than the cult ever was.

But you still confided in Taph about how you yearned to see more of the world, to never be a caged bird. To meet new people, to experience more, and to be more.

But you were scared. Scared to be caught by the Spawn cult again. You never wanted that again.

And Taph listened.

You didn't expect him to take action like how he did, though.

Waking up one morning, exiting your room, only to find fucking Builderman sitting on the couch while casually talking to Taph made you tweak out, naturally.

But you managed to compose yourself and talk to him, questioning so many things while desperately trying to stay polite.

You didn't expect him to take you being a... cannibal bird person super well.

You were surprised when he already knew. Even more so when he didn't hate you for it.

He wasn't at Taph's house for long, but it became kinda common for him to come over.

Eventually, one day, Builderman told you that you were going to be staying with the Admins at Taph's request and for your safety from the Spawn cult.

And because, earlier, you'd confessed to your otherworldly origins.

It astounded you that he did this, but you agreed.

At least you'd still be able to visit Taph.

--☆☆☆--

Much to your surprise, you weren't going to be staying with Builderman.

It was quite awkward when you went to Dusekkar's house and learned you'd be staying with him. You were just glad you understood his rhyming thing very well.

But Dusekkar was surprisingly nice and was more than willing to help you get settled into his house and didn't rush you when you hid away a good bit.

But he was patient and didn't mind your curse. Eventually, you warmed up to him, too.

He went out of his way to figure out how to make it so you'd have to kill and eat living creatures less to keep your sight by using his magic. It was by no means a cure, but it was a blessing.

He even taught you magic. Though yours is much more tech-oriented, to say the least.

You created yourself a magical screen of sorts that hovered over your face, black in color, that could display any image you willed in black and white. The screen could also transform into large fangs that hovered in front of your mouth to help you feast when you needed to.

You loved this screen. It hid the bandages you wore and how your face could make you horrifying to look at without the bandages. It helped you feel more human, more normal. Like your eyes weren't gone, and you were still kind of a human.

But it wasn't just Dusekkar, or Dusey as you started to call him after you two grew close, who was your friends among the Admins. There was Builderman, who you somehow got on a first-name basis with, and Shedletsky.

You became such great friends with this man it got to the point he literally gave you some of his fried chicken if you asked.

You were honestly astounded. Then again, he was really nice. And this was before 1x1x1x1 existed, which said a ton about him.

Becoming friends with the Roblox admins (or at least their versions in this world) was never something you expected. But here you are.

Good thing this wasn't Block Tales.

...

Even if being Forsaken was technically more of a hell.

--☆☆☆--

You had no idea how your disappearance effected everyone from before.

How could you?

It wasn't your fault you were gone anyways.

It just meant everything that happened in the past of Forsaken happened, even if you left an impact on all of them.

Noob and Guest 666 were the reason you moved back to your apartment in the first place due to a vicious argument about Chance which ended with you leaving. They came over the next morning to talk it out only to find your apartment trash, blood on the floor, and you gone.

Noob blamed himself while 666 blamed everyone else, especially Chance for getting involved in your life.

It led to their friendship collapsing, 666's ban, and eventually them both being Forsaken.

007n7 was devestated you were apparently murdered or kidnapped. c00lkidd took it even worse and lashed out. It led to him getting the c00lGUI and burning down Builder Brother's pizza as revenge for when you mentioned how your friendship with Elliot was crumbled over what seemed like nothing.

c00lkidd just blamed Elliot for making you sad and thought that was a part of why you were gone.

And when c00lkidd disappeared? When most of the best things in his life were gone?

007n7 couldn't handle it and ended it all, being Forsaken.

Elliot was Forsaken around this time too.

And John Doe was corrupted by the old code, and eventually both he and Jane were Forsaken as well.

Then ITrapped happened with Chance and he wasn't safe either.

And Two Time sacrificed Azure, and eventually he too was Forsaken.

--☆☆☆--

It happened eventually. You knew it would.

When all three admins you grew close with disappeared, you knew they were Forsaken.

You missed them dearly, but you just decided to move on and live your life.

It's what they would've wanted.

Not so fast.

You froze at the Entity's voice back in your head. For the first time in years since the deal.

You and I had a deal. I come for what I promised I would take.

"And what do you wish to take?" You questioned, already having lost so, so much. "You took my life. You took my humanity. You took my innocence. What's next?"

I want you.

...

...

...

Not even you could escape being Forsaken.

Ironic, is it not?

Because as you sit up on the dock you were transported to. As you take in your surroundings.

As you process every plan, every hope, every dream being crushed.

You scream.

You scream and scream and scream and scream

AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM

AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM AND SCREAM

And as you scream.

As you process it all was taken from you.

You realize just how blind you were to it all.

You may have gotten your sight back, but in the end it was worthless.

In the end, you still ended up in Hell.

In the end, you were a monster.

In the end, you died a monster.

--☆☆☆--

Here's Part 3!!

[itneverendshere]

Maybe bartender reader and Rafes wedding is super emotional because she doesn’t have any family apart from her sister and she gets like sad when they’re writing the guest list or something??

a little drabble about getting the guest list done🥺🫶🏻 this was so cute to write, god they’re so in love😭😭😭😭 thank you for the request! hope you like this 💘

the last thing rafe ever thought he’d care about was wedding details.

but here he was, sitting at the kitchen table with you, half-listening as you flipped through guest lists and vendor catalogs. you were still months away from the big day, and it hadn’t sunk in completely—he was marrying you.

you were scribbling names onto a piece of paper, biting your lip in that way you always did when you were focused.

"okay, so… your side. let’s go over it,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.

he noticed something then. you were staring at the list a little too long, pen hovering above the paper, fingers tightened around it. rafe looked down at the blank spots on the paper, his hand slipping over yours, thumb soothingly tracing over your knuckles.

"baby, what’s wrong?"

you blinked, not you realizing how quiet things had gotten, and looked up at him.

"yeah, i’m fine. just... thinking."

"thinking about what?" he asked.

it wasn’t common of you to get worked up over stuff like this. you’d been cruising through most of the planning, but this part, who you were inviting, seemed to be messing with you.

you put the pen down and sighed, "there's not many people for me to invite, you know?"

rafe furrowed his brow, not fully understanding.

"what are you talking about? you’ve got your sister, milo, jj’s dumbass.”

you took a shaky breath, eyes scanning the few names on your side of the list, gesturing with a humorless chuckle.

"yeah, that’s pretty much it."

he sat up straighter.

rafe wasn’t the most emotionally aware guy sometimes, but when it came to you, he was always tuned in; he knew you well enough to get what was going on. your mom passed away when you were young, and your dad...that deadbeat never showed up for anything, let alone a wedding.

your sister and nephew were basically the only family you had and compared to his list—shit, compared to most people’s lists—that was nothing.

rafe might’ve come from a big family, but he knew what it felt like to be lonely even in rooms full of people, he never felt understood until he’d met you.

"it’s not about how many people show up. i mean, shit, my list is mostly because rose’s making me invite people she thinks i should. that’s not what matters."

you laughed, but it was weak, similar to the type of laugh someone gave when they didn’t believe a word people were saying.

he never thought about family the way you did.

"yeah, but it still feels… wrong," you admitted, "you have all these people, and i’ve got barely anyone. it’s…" you paused, "it’s like a reminder that i don’t have a family. not in the way most people do."

rafe never thought about it that way—it never dawned on him how much it hurt to feel alone in something so big, full of love and celebration. his heart twisted for you, and he moved his chair closer, the wood scraping against the floor.

"hey," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "you know what family is to me?" he asked, his thumb brushing your cheek, "it’s you. it’s us, building something real together. i don’t care if it’s just me and you standing up there. that’s all i need."

you leaned into his hand, "it’s hard.”

rafe felt the desperation to make you feel the love that he did, taking both your hands now, looking at you with the earning look only you got to see.

"you’ve got me. and you’ve got jj and milo and your sister. but more than that, baby, we’re starting something here. you and me. we’re the start of something huge."

you looked down, the tiniest smile creeping at your lips.

"and if you think i’m not gonna spend my entire life making you feel like you’re surrounded by love," he continued, "then you’re crazier than me."

a laugh escaped you, breathless, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours.

"i know it’s not easy," he murmured, brushing his lips over yours in a barely-there kiss. "but trust me. i’ve got more love for you than any fuckin’ guest list can hold. and just so you know, i’m more than happy to go through the guest list and cut people if it makes you feel better. we could have this whole thing just be me, you, and a couple of strangers as witnesses.”

“i’m not asking you to uninvite your whole family, you idiot,” you scolded him, shaking your head.

“good,” he smirked, “because rose would actually kill me. but seriously, baby, this is about us. i don’t care if it’s just a tiny handful of people for you or a stadium full for me. the second you walk down that aisle, nothing else exists for me. not the number of people, not the table settings—just you.”

for the first time that night, a real smile broke across your face, “i love you, you know that?”

he grinned, all boyish and sweet, pulling you into his arms.

“good. because i’m madly in love with you.”

you made a face, pulling back just enough to narrow your eyes at him.

"you’re disgustingly obsessed with me. clinically down bad, you know that?"

rafe’s grin only widened, completely unbothered.

"oh, i know," he replied, leaning forward like he was telling you a secret. "and honestly, it’s worse than you think. i’m at the ‘plan your dream wedding, tolerate jj for you, and learn to cook because you made one offhand comment about it’ level of obsessed."

you groaned dramatically. "absolutely shameless."

"don’t act like you’re not equally obsessed," he shot back, his lips twitching up in a smirk.

"rafe cameron, stop. i am trying to be serious here," you replied, but you couldn’t hide the way your lips quirked up, that love sick smile you always got when he pulled you out of your head.

"and i’m seriously in love with you," he said, giving you that earnest look he’d perfected over the years, the one that he knew would make you roll your eyes. "face it, you’re stuck with me. not even a stadium full of rose’s golf club friends could make me take my eyes off you that day."

“gross,” you muttered, scrunching your nose up as if you were truly repulsed.

you leaned in anyway, planting a quick peck on his cheek.

“i’m serious, though,” he protested, pulling you into his lap. “one day, you’re gonna look back on all this planning and realize it didn’t even matter. because it’s just me and you and whatever the hell kind of family we build.”

“see, that’s what i’m talking about,” you replied, attempting to hold back your laughter. “that right there? disgusting. obsessed. do you even hear yourself?”

he chuckled, not remotely phased, because it was true. he was completely, embarrassingly obsessed with you, and he wasn’t even pretending to hide it.

“you love it,” he teased, nuzzling into your neck.

you scoffed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close despite your complaints.

"you know what? i do. but don’t get it twisted. i’m only marrying you because i’m really into the way you clean the kitchen when i threaten you.”

“admit it, you're just as disgustingly obsessed with me," he argued, still shameless, kissing your neck softly and feeling you melt against him despite your mock outrage.

“fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes with a grin. “but only because you’re so tragically whipped, and it’s kinda cute.”

he knew he’d spend his whole life happily being disgusting if it meant getting to love you exactly like this.

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Fifteen - Wedding (Epilogue)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Raising a kid certainly derailed your and Jessie's wedding timeline, but after many months, the big day is finally here.

Warnings: G!P content. Oral (J receiving). Fingering. G!P penetrative sex. Possessive language. Preg/breeding kinks. Language.

A/N: Well, everyone, the closing chapter is finally here. To everyone still with me on this journey or those who are new - thank you! I hope you enjoy. Full series is here.

"How are you holding up? I hope you're having a fun night."

Jessie read your message and quietly removed herself from a group conversation to take up a seat on a nearby couch.

"Honestly? A bit overwhelmed lol. Missing you and Riley."

"Yeah, who decided to follow through with these weird traditions of us not spending the night together lol."

"Seriously haha. We can blame my friends for that. But hey - at least we spent the day together, we just aren't allowed to spend the night lol."

"Well...Riley's probably fast asleep with your parents. But, if you want a break from the unrelenting celebrations, there's nothing stopping us from running into each other on a midnight walk."

"I love that idea. Let's do it. Meet over by the dining cabin on the far end of the complex? There shouldn't be anyone over there at this hour. I need probably 10 min."

"Done. See you soon, love."

Jessie realized she was smiling as she put away her phone. She cleared her throat and ran her palms against her thighs as she began to formulate her exit.

Her neutral expression was short lived as her eyes fell upon the three newly inked lines across the wrist of her right hand, more or less a mirror of the ones she'd gotten years prior on her other wrist. These lines though - one for each member of her new family; you, herself and Riley.

"Smiling to yourself the night before your wedding - that's gotta beat sweating bullets and having an existential crisis."

Jessie arched an eyebrow at Janine as she stood.

"Yeah, none of that here," she chuckled as she started to make her way towards the cabin door. "My parents texted. I forgot a bag of Riley's stuff in the car. I'm just gonna go grab that and drop it off at their cabin."

"Oh, I can do that. Stay - this is your night. You can't leave - you're the star of the show."

"Now that has me sweating bullets," Jessie replied dryly with a teasing eyeroll as she grabbed her keys and continued walking. "I'll be back in a bit."

She ignored Janine's persisting rebuttals with a charming smile and a wave as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh mountain air as she looked up at a dark sky lit up by twinkling stars and a crescent moon.

She shoved her hands in her pockets and began the trek over to the other side of the complex you and her had rented out for your wedding.

Though both of you would've loved to have little to no fanfare or audience, it really just wasn't feasible no matter how much you tried to trim the invite list. Jessie would've loved simply eloping - going away for a weekend alone and coming back married, but that would've gotten her killed by a multitude of friends and family.

As a compromise though, you wanted to have the wedding be as 'you' as possible, meaning you both found this nice, rustic mountain resort with cabins, hiking trails, a beautiful creek and more as opposed to having it at some fancy venue in the city.

The wedding took a while to get off the ground. What with a baby in the picture and a new club season and international window to work around, all of the effort required to pull a wedding together just fell by the wayside. By the time this day came around, your baby went from a newborn to an 18-month old toddler in the blink of an eye.

The cabin Jessie went to meet you at was dark when she arrived, as expected. It was locked at this hour, but this cabin was far enough away from where all the guests and staff stayed that she wasn't entirely worried about privacy. She went around to the back and leaned against the wall as she waited for you.

She patiently looked up at the constellations until she heard faint footsteps in the distance. A smile crept across her face and evolved into a full blown grin as you rounded the corner, tentatively peeking around.

You put on a mock expression of surprise, a hand to your chest as you approached.

"Oh my gosh. What in the world? I can't believe that you're out here too."

Jessie laughed and mimicked your expression. "No way! So crazy." She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well, what can you do?" She pulled you into her arms and gave you a kiss. She smiled further as your arms came up around the back of her neck and you leaned fully in.

You rest your forehead against hers and exhaled quietly as the kiss ended. "This is so silly, but I feel like I haven't kissed you at all today. I know we did during all those games and such, but, you know what I mean."

"A real kiss," Jessie answered, knowing exactly what you meant. Doing all of these couples games and people hooting and hollering for you and her to kiss was a bit of a nightmare to begin with, but it also certainly wasn't an intimate, real kiss.

"See? You get me," you said as you gave an exaggerated, contented sigh. "I guess that's why I'm marrying you."

She chuckled and captured your lips in another kiss.

"Yeah, you're pretty much stuck with me," she said. "Pretty hard for you to back out now."

You shot her a withering look and rolled your eyes to which Jessie just grinned.

"Yeah, I'm really dying to get out of this relationship. It's the worst," you deadpanned.

"I knew it," Jessie played along and you rolled your eyes once more, this time pulling back and placing your hands on your hips.

"Well, I mean, I hardly know you," you said slowly, eyeing her up and down before reaching out and letting a finger trail down her chest. "I thought you were such a good girl, but here you are sneaking out at night and breaking the rules." Your eyes met hers and she smirked at the glint she saw in them.

"I can be bad for you," Jessie said rather smugly as she wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close again.

"Well," you smirked as you drew teasing circles along her shoulder, "let's keep that between you and me. I'd hate for you to have an early midlife crisis and go through a belated Bad Girl phase. Fucking around and all."

She gave you a look. "You really don't get how much I adore you? Us having a baby together and getting married really hasn't convinced you yet?"

You toyed with her shirt idly, the look in your eyes shifting slightly. "People get married and have kids all the time. It's not a guarantee of anything. Feelings change. Wants change."

Jessie let out a slight laugh, but narrowed her eyes nonetheless. "Well are your feelings or wants going to change?"

"No," you replied simply and easily, holding her gaze.

"Then why would mine?" She challenged lightly, causing your eyes to drift downward towards the ground. Jessie thumbed your cheek gently and pushed your hair behind your ear. "You really don't get it. There's absolutely no one else for me. It's you. Every moment. Every day. There's no competition. I love you so incredibly much. And just when I think I can't love you more, you do or say something that makes me fall even more for you."

Even in the dim light of the moon, Jessie could see the faintest signs of blush on your cheeks.

"Whoa," you joked shyly, eyes still on the ground before lifting them to meet hers. "Save something for the vows."

"I need you to know how much I love you," Jessie said earnestly. She watched you intently and you eventually sighed.

"I know...I just love you so much. I think the world of you and I don't ever want to lose you. I honestly don't know what I'd do."

"You're not going to lose me," she assured you. "It's been years and my friends still make fun of me for how obsessed I am with you. Never mind how whipped," she finished with a smirk, but held your gaze unwaveringly. "You're the one. You're my everything. You're my best friend. The love of my life. The mother of my child. And tomorrow?" She spoke intently, eyes looking down at your lips as she caressed your cheek once more. "You'll be my wife."

The kiss started off slow - just two people in love. Jessie wanted to somehow express how deeply she felt for you and reassure you that she'd always be here.

It wasn't long until the kiss began to grow hungrier, Jessie finding herself slowly being pushed back against the wall of the cabin, both your hands and hers beginning to wander. The sounds of your heavy kisses filling the night air.

"God, I wish we were staying together tonight," Jessie mumbled into the kiss as she felt her pants beginning to grow taut against her. She moaned deep in her throat as your hand came to cup her growing length.

"Maybe we should just go to the honeymoon cabin," you suggested as you two continued to kiss. You dipped your head and began to kiss down her neck. She groaned once more and her eyes fell shut as she attempted to think.

"W-we don't have the keys," she eventually managed. You made a noise of complaint, but continued to caress her restrained cock.

"Well...," you said slowly as you began to undo Jessie's pants. "It's just us out here."

"Babe," Jessie said, half in warning, half in astonishment as you began to kiss your way down her shirt and soon dropped to your knees in the dirt and fully undid her pants.

"What?" You asked teasingly as you looked up at her. "You don't like me on my knees for you?"

A low rumble emanated from her chest as she let her head fall back against the wooden slats of the cabin wall, a blissful grin on her lips as her hand began to run through your hair.

"Jesus Christ," Jessie mumbled, though certainly not in complaint. She looked down at you again with a crooked smile. "You're talking about me being a bad girl - it's your fault. You're the bad influence." She recalled the events of the past couple of years. "Getting me hard in the back of my friend's car and feeling me up, being so fucking sexy that I just have to jack myself off while on the phone with you and getting freakin' caught. Fucking in my parents' basement and in my childhood bedroom while my mom is on the other side of the door. Got me storing a collection of dirty photos of you in the back of the nightstand. Never mind what's in my phone. And now you're about to give me head while we're outside where anyone could see."

Jessie groaned again as you reached into her boxers and released her stiff cock, your fingers trailing teasingly along its length.

"Well. When you put it that way...," you said with a smirk. "But looking at how hard you are right now and the way your cock is already leaking cum for me, I'd say you like it."

She gripped your hair tightly before releasing it and running her fingers through your locks once more. She closed her eyes and nodded her affirmation. "Yeah. You can confidently say I like it."

"Well good," you accepted with a light chuckle as you rubbed her precum across the tip of her cock and teased her a bit more. She moaned low in her chest again and subtly began to thrust into your hand. You smiled. "Hey Jess?"

"Mm?" She asked, forcing herself to open her eyes once more and look down at you. God, you really did look incredible kneeling in front of her with her stiff cock in your hand. You gave her a teasing smile.

"I love you," you said as you took her into your mouth.

"Oh fuck," Jessie said in a low voice as your warm mouth wrapped around her and your tongue teased her tip. You moaned around her cock and she clutched your hair tightly in her hand once more. "Jesus."

She let her head fall back against the cabin and she leaned back, grateful for the structure behind her because of how weak in the knees she felt already. Her breathing deepened as you took her deeper and continued to pump her up and down with your fist.

Her jaw was slack as she finally opened her eyes. What a moment - your head slowly bobbing up and down on her length, looking absolutely gorgeous on this starry night, out in the wilderness on the eve of your wedding. In all of her wildest dreams, she could've never thought this up.

It didn't take long for Jessie to feel that tightening sensation between her legs and it took so much control for her to keep her thrusts gentle, her tip nudging the back of your throat and not pushing deeper.

"I'm gonna cum," she warned you. You moaned, nearly setting her off with the vibration of it, and began to take her deeper into your throat.

Jessie held back a loud moan, a muffled grunt escaping her throat instead as she released herself down your throat, her palm flat against the back of your head as she bit her lips and emptied herself.

You eventually pulled back with a slight cough, your eyes starting to water as you swallowed her load.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she breathed as she looked down at you and leaned down to help you to your feet.

"Don't be sorry," you said with a choked laugh. "It's hot."

She tucked herself back into her boxers and did up her pants. You leaned against her, her arms wrapping around you in an embrace as you both settled. She played with your hair and kissed the side of your face as she came down from her climax.

She felt you sigh in her arms. "I wish we could just go to bed together tonight," you repeated her earlier wish.

"I know," she sighed against you as she ran her fingers up and down the back of your neck. You shivered against her.

"Cool it," you said as you shrugged her hand away. "I'm already worked up."

"Yeah?" Jessie asked, peeking one eye open and looking over at you, a devilish smile beginning to form. Her hand drifted down your body until she reached the top of your pants. You didn't protest as she began to unbutton them, instead only moaning and gently rolling your hips against her.

Any drowsiness she felt in the haze of her orgasm quickly dissipated and she flipped you both so you had your back against the wall of the cabin. She dipped her head down and began gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. You gasped softly, fingers digging into her crown as she did so and it drove her crazy.

Despite her recent climax, she felt herself growing hard once again as you quietly mewled in her ear and rolled your hips against hers. She felt a rush of arousal come over her, her body tensing up as she resisted the urge to truly pin you against the wall and have her way with you. She subconsciously sucked harder on your neck.

"Jess!" You hissed, bringing her back to the moment. She blinked, pulling away in confusion as you slapped a hand to your neck and stared wide-eyed at her. "The night before our wedding?! Really?"

Jessie stared at you a moment longer until you lifted your hand away, revealing the initial signs of a hickey. She cowered slightly, heat rushing to her face but she couldn't stifle the laugh that escaped either. She stared at it and eventually gave a half-hearted shrug.

"You're going to be wearing makeup," she offered before laughing once more. Her smile turned into a grin. "Besides, everyone already knows you're mine anyway."

Your eyes flashed and you leaned forward, latching onto her neck and sucking hard. You pulled back a moment later with a very satisfied look on your face as Jessie was now the one to cover her neck with a palm.

"What the fuck!" She hissed in return. "I'm not wearing makeup tomorrow. How am I supposed to cover it up?" She gave a disgruntled noise of complaint and you simply shrugged haughtily.

"They can photoshop it out. And now everyone will know you're mine as well."

"Oh my God," Jessie said, her mild irritation waning and quickly shifting to affection. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. Her cock pulsed at the wicked grin you gave her as you held her gaze. "I gave you my baby. I gave you my ring. And now my name, too. I don't think anyone would've doubted I'm yours."

You looked upward in mock contemplation before smirking at her. "You can't blame me for wanting to stake my claim on you," you said as you rolled your hips against her once more causing her eyes to drift shut as an all too fleeting wave of pleasure rushed through her.

Despite Jessie pinning your hands above you and seemingly being in control, it fooled neither of you - you were very much in control. No surprise. And she didn't mind at all.

She released one of your hands and reached down to cup your heat through your underwear. She let out a low moan of approval at the dampness and radiating heat she was met with there. She pushed your panties aside and ran two fingers through your slick folds. A grin crossed her face as your knees buckled and you melted into her embrace, clutching her closely and gasping in her ear.

"God, you are so wet for me, baby," she said as she relished the feeling of your wet folds, clit and sopping entrance. Her cock strained painfully against her boxers and pants as she slipped two digits inside of your entrance. You gasped further and let yourself fall into her waiting hand.

"Fuck," you whispered as you gripped her curled fingers. She withdrew them slightly and pushed inside once more, the sounds of fingers moving through your arousal filled the otherwise quiet night air and Jessie's jaw dropped in amazement.

"Holy fuck. You are soaking and you sound so fucking good. Oh my God." She ground out the last part and couldn't help but grind herself against your thigh.

"Jesus Christ, Jess," you panted already as you rocked into her hand. "I want you to fuck me."

"Babe," she said as she buried her face into your neck, rolling her head against you in want as she felt your core accommodating the girth of her fingers. She could feel the ridges and curves of your walls as they fluttered and flexed around her and her cock twitched as she continued to slowly grind herself against you for some semblance of relief.

"God, Jess. I know you want me too," you said as you shook off her hand and reached down to cup her once more, massaging her firmly through the taut fabric.

"I didn't bring a condom with me," she said as she slowly thrust against your palm. "They're back at my cabin."

You exhaled heavily though you didn't stop the gyration of your hips or the movement of your hand. You ran your other hand through her hair.

"Sorry I didn't think to bring one - I didn't exactly anticipate this," she said.

"Well, stop being so sweet and romantic - meeting up in the middle of the night out in the moonlight and telling me how much you love me. If you stop doing that and stop being so attractive then maybe I'll stop spreading my legs for you."

Jessie let out another low moan and her grip tightened on you. Soft noises of want and need came from you both for several moments until you finally spoke.

"Riley's 18 months old now," you started. "The doctor said we're in the clear to start trying again if we wanted to."

A low growl rumbled up Jessie's through as she pushed her fingers deeper inside of you and ground her hips against you harder. You let out a breathy chuckle.

"I know you've been dying to fuck me without a condom again," you teased.

"Oh my God," Jessie muttered as she began to hump you a touch faster. "Don't tempt me. I'm not fucking kidding."

"Who says I'm kidding?" You said breathlessly as you dug your fingers into her crown once more.

"I'm serious," she said through nearly grit teeth as her free hand dug into the small of your back and pulled you tightly against her. "If you tell me we're trying again, you're leaving here with baby #2 inside of you." She forced herself to take a deep breath. "If you aren't ready, it's fine. I can sneak back to the cabin and get a condom."

"And what if I don't want you to?"

Jessie moaned, legitimately worried she was going to bust in her pants. "Then I'm fucking a baby into you tonight."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you shifted, Jessie pulling back to look at you only to see you shimmying your pants and underwear down your legs. You nodded to her and she immediately began undoing her pants once more.

Your pants and underwear fell into a heap on the ground, Jessie's barely dropping down around her ankles before you wrapped your leg around her waist and grabbed her bare cock, positioning it at your entrance.

Jessie didn't hesitate in sinking inside of you, sliding in to the hilt right off the bat. A wanton moan escaped you, probably louder than either of you intended or wanted, but you were both so far gone that it went unnoticed and Jessie began thrusting in and out of you with a level of urgency and desperation that might've embarrassed her in the past, but the way you gasped and clawed at her it only egged her on.

"I love you so much," she panted into your ear as her wet strokes filled her ears.

"I love you too," you whimpered in return as you bounced on her cock, your shirt the only thing keeping your back from getting scratched up from the cabin walls.

"Jesus Christ, I'm going to cum already," Jessie said a short while later. She panted, forcing herself to refocus for a moment to look you in the eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Cum inside me. I want you," you told her.

She needed no further encouragement and a few strokes later was pushing inside of you as deep as she could, spilling herself with a shuddering breath. She whimpered as strings of cum continued to shoot out of her and into you, coating your insides with her potent seed.

"Fuck," she breathed as she slowly drew her hips back. She looked down, seeing a mixture of your cum and hers along her cock before she pushed back inside of you, loving the way you moaned at the motion.

You stayed in one another's embrace for as long as you could before you both agreed that you should head back to your respective cabins. You reluctantly put on your clothes and walked back towards the guest cabins hand in hand.

You reached yours first and Jessie walked you up the steps to the door, no longer caring if someone saw you two together.

"Aww, it's like a first date," you said facetiously with a chuckle as you wrapped your arms around her and she kissed you. She leaned into your ear and whispered.

"Yeah, except this time my cum's deep inside of you and with any luck you'll be carrying my baby soon."

You blushed and swatted at her.

"Stop," you hushed her as she grinned at you. You relented with a brief shake of your head. "True though." Jessie continued to grin devilishly at you and you gave her another playful shove. "K. Get to bed, you heathen. You have a very important event tomorrow and you better not be late."

She kissed you again. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

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

Despite Jessie's exceptional dislike for attention, she felt calm and elated as she stood with you at the alter in front of all your friends and family and said your vows to one another.

The ceremony was lovely. The tears started early. First being when her mom came out with Riley; Riley in her dress and Jessie's mom's at the ready as Riley waddled down the aisle as she haphazardly threw handfuls of petals on the ground, straight up into the air - sometimes at the guests - dropping the basket entirely as she spotted Jessie and ran towards her, clutching her leg tightly.

"Up! Up!" Riley asked and Jessie glanced to her mom. She was supposed to sit with her mom and dad during the ceremony. She looked down at her little girl - with her curly, dark hair, brown eyes and bright red cheeks - she really was Jessie's kid. She bent down and picked her up, holding her against her hip.

"You look so pretty, my girl," Jessie whispered to her as she kissed her forehead. She pointed towards the crowd. "Let's wait for momma, okay? She'll be here soon."

She couldn't keep her eyes off of you. She started crying the second she saw you in your dress. It must've surprised Riley, because the little one just clung to her harder and buried her head in her neck.

"My two favourite people," you cooed as you came up, kissing Riley on the cheek and cupping Jessie's face to give her a quick peck. You made a face immediately after. "Oops, am I not supposed to kiss you yet?"

"Who cares," Jessie laughed as she handed Riley over to you, the toddler reaching for you as you stood across from them.

"Hi sweetie," you said as you took her. "Did you know mommy would've never asked me to marry her if not for you?"

"What!" Jessie protested in as hushed a tone as she could muster. She could feel her cheeks heating up already. "Of course I would've!"

"I'm just kidding," you told her. You laughed at how flustered Jessie was and gave her a wink. "We're off to a good start."

You handed Riley to her grandparents and the ceremony continued, culminating with you slipping new bands on each other's fingers and sharing a kiss that had everyone cheering and clapping.

Considering how some wedding receptions were, yours and Jessie's was pretty tame - at least for you two.

Even though it was probably overkill, you'd switched to non-alcoholic, coming up with creative excuses as to why and Jessie was simply never much for drinking in the first place. Though, her friends did manage to get her to do a couple of shots that left her cringing and coughing as you watched on and laughed.

Jessie was chatting with some of the guests when she heard her daughter's laugh followed by thundering, but clumsy, footsteps as she ran through the crowd, people nearly tripping over themselves to avoid bumping into her. She'd discovered a few weeks ago that she could run - or something akin to it - and she'd been nonstop ever since.

Jessie laughed as suddenly you emerged from a group and picked Riley up mid-run. She pouted and flailed momentarily, but whatever you said to her caused her to relax in your arms. Jessie excused herself from conversation and smiled as she approached you two.

"Look who's here," you said as you looked down to Riley and pointed to Jessie.

"Mommy!" Riley exclaimed, beaming upon seeing Jessie.

"She's having a field day out here," you said slyly to Jessie with a teasing look. "Running any chance she can get. Cheeks extra rosy from running around. And look at that smile," you said as you gently poked your daughter's cheek, eliciting a giggle from her. You looked at Jessie pointedly. "She's certainly your daughter."

Jessie took a moment to kiss Riley before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"She better be mine," she teased. You pulled back with a smirk before leaning in to whisper back.

"What? You wouldn't want me carrying and having someone else's baby?"

Before Jessie could respond, you were walking away, eyes glimmering playfully. She called after you.

"No. I'd despise that!"

You turned and shrugged, earning a dangerous look from her. You grinned and grasped Riley's hand to give Jessie a small wave before disappearing into the crowd knowing full well that conversation wasn't over.

A short while later, Jessie found herself getting pulled out onto the dance floor by you. She grumbled in protest, but allowed you to push and pull her as you wished as you danced to whatever song was playing.

"You're my wife. You're supposed to be happy about dancing with me," you teased.

"I'm happy to be with you. I just don't like dancing," Jessie refuted as she half-heartedly tried to dance along, though was always half a beat - or more - behind.

"You didn't seem too bothered dancing with me when we were at that club on New Year's a few years back," you said with a glint in your eye. "Mind you, probably not appropriate for here."

Jessie's mind flashed back to you grinding up on her. In a sea of people, she was solely focused on you and how incredible you looked and that it was her you were with. True - not appropriate for here. She gave you a lopsided smirk either way.

"I wouldn't be opposed," she joked though her eyes raked up and down your body in appreciation. "And you look even more gorgeous than you did that night."

"Yeah?" You asked as you moved in close and Jessie wrapped her arms around your waist.

"You better cool it," Jessie warned in a murmur as her eyes drifted away. "I don't exactly need wedding photos of me sporting a boner."

You cleared your throat, drawing her eyes back to you. "Well, your daughter did ask for her light up running shoes. Those are back at the cabin."

Jessie's eyes studied you for a moment as a smile crept across her face.

"Oh. Well, we should definitely go get them. That's what good parents would do."

"Absolutely," you agreed.

You both looked around briefly to ensure no one was watching either of you too closely before Jessie grabbed you by the hand and led you out of the hall. The sun was setting as you two walked the paths back to the guest cabins. She retrieved the skeleton key from her pocket and showed it to you.

"And we can get into the honeymoon cabin this time," she told you proudly and you laughed, wrapping your arm around hers and cuddling in as you walked together towards the cabin.

You were kissing each other as you stumbled through the door and slammed it shut behind you.

"Pretty sure we're supposed to wait until the end of the night for this," you chuckled as Jessie was already starting to undo her dress pants.

"Well, we've done a lot of things out of order," she dismissed with a grin as she kissed your neck and guided you towards the couch. "And who's to say we're not going to do more later."

She kissed your lips and made sure the kiss didn't break as she took a seat on the couch and pulled you down on top of her. She bundled up your dress and lifted it so it was out of the way and she could have access to your underwear. She ran her fingers along the fabric and felt herself growing harder as she could feel the warmth and definition of your lips through the thin fabric.

"Fucking me during the reception," you teased as you kissed her deeper. "Gosh, I really am a terrible influence on you."

"Fuck no," Jessie disagreed with a wily smirk. "You're the best." She lifted you off of her to stand for a moment as she removed your underwear. She grinned as she tucked them into her pocket.

"I've created a monster," you joked as you pulled her cock out from her boxer briefs and straddled her waist once more, bracing yourself on her shoulders as you held yourself up as she poised herself at your entrance.

She ran the thick head of her cock against your entrance, getting it coated in your juices before she began to gently nudge at it and push inside. She moaned in pleasure as your tunnel slowly welcomed her, enveloping her length as she inched inside of you.

"Fuck. I'm so glad I can ditch the condoms again. God." She exhaled through her mouth as she looked you up and down. "Nothing feels as good as being inside of you like this. Nothing between us."

"God," you said as you tossed your head back and ran your fingers through her hair as you sunk down onto her and slowly rose back up. "I'm not kidding you - I've soaked through these panties more than once today thinking about last night. That was so fucking sexy."

Jessie growled as she began kissing down your neck and as much of your chest as your dress would allow.

"I noticed you're not drinking tonight," Jessie commented. "Think I knocked you up that fast?"

"You did last time," you chuckled as you began to ride her at a steady rhythm, her tip stretching out your entrance, teasing her, before swallowing her once more.

Jessie exhaled heavily - already feeling overwhelmed by the way you felt around her, the way you looked bouncing up and down in her lap - in your wedding dress no less - and the way your hands explored her.

"Y/N Fleming," she declared as she pulled you into a hard kiss. "Can't believe I've waited so long to make it official. To have you take my name." She rolled her hips up into you as she pulled you down into her lap. "Fuck. You're all mine."

"Oh God," you whimpered, head thrown back once more and eyes closed. "I'm yours. And you're mine."

"Always," she affirmed with zero hesitation. Her mouth hung open as she worked to steady her breath. She could feel blood rushing to her face and knew her cheeks were red with exertion. She shook her head. "I can't believe there was ever a time before you."

"Same, baby," you reciprocated as you looked down at her, cupping her face as you sensually rocked atop of her.

Despite your agreement, Jessie felt a rush go through her. She tightened her grip on your hips as began to buck up into you from below. She spoke through nearly clenched teeth.

"I hate that anyone was ever with you," she said. "You were made for me. They didn't deserve you."

Your eyes fell shut again and you leaned into her, your hands gripping her shoulders. "Holy shit. No one's ever fucked me like you. Or loved me like you."

Jessie snickered smugly, the sound of her hips bouncing off of your thighs resounded loudly in her ears.

"Well no one could ever make me feel like you do. I'm so lucky I met you."

"Jess," you whimpered as your body collapsed into her and you held her tightly. "I love you so much."

Jessie grunted as you rode her, your walls flexing and massaging her in the most exquisite way. She began to buck into you faster and her breathing grew ragged. You clutched her and she looked up to see your own cheeks rosy and your mouth slightly open as you pleasured one another.

"I can't wait until I start swelling with your baby again," you panted and Jessie's eyes slammed shut to the point of wincing as she fought off her climax. She wanted you cumming all over her cock before she flooded you.

"Jesus Christ. You are so sexy. I couldn't keep my hands off you last time. I never can - but God you look incredible carrying my baby." She grunted as she nearly came. "My gorgeous wife. So fucking beautiful."

"Don't stop," you begged as your orgasm neared. She watched you steadily as your expressions changed and you panted and moaned.

"My gorgeous girl," Jessie praised. "You look perfect bouncing up and down on my cock like this. And soon you'll be walking around this wedding with my cum dripping down your legs."

"Oh shit," you gasped as you began to convulse around her cock. Your movements stilled, fingers digging into her shoulders as your orgasm shook you. The way your softness spasmed around her, Jessie had no hope of fighting off her climax further and let out a whining grunt as she released inside of you.

"Oh, fuck, Jessie," you panted as she began to rut into you, shooting string after string of her cum inside of you.

You collapsed in her arms on top of her as you both panted and worked to regain your breath.

When you finally went to climb off of her, you both maneuvered yourself in a way that tried to limit how much of her cum was going to spill out onto her pants. Even then, your disappearance from the reception was extended further as you both worked to clean the cum off her pants before you made your return. Eventually, you gave up and Jessie got changed into a different outfit - people would believe she wanted to get into something more comfortable. You followed suit and got changed as well.

You returned to the hall and though you both received a few comments about your costume changes, all in all your absence was met with minimal questioning. Riley was thrilled to get her light-up shoes and immediately went stomping around the dancefloor squealing with delight.

Jessie continued to mingle with friends and family, as did you, and the night wore on. But it was really only a matter of time until a familiar cry soared over the music and din of the crowd.

Jessie frowned, excusing herself from a conversation and headed in the direction of her daughter's cries. She spotted you navigating the crowd and you caught each other's eye. When you both found Riley, she was red in the face, tears staining her cheeks as her grandparents tried to soothe her.

"What's going on?" Jessie asked as she approached, kneeling down in front of her as her dad bounced Riley on his knee.

"She just started asking for you both and got upset that you weren't here," he answered.

"Oh, Ri," Jessie said as she picked up her daughter and began to bounce her in her arms. She looked to her dad. "She's probably just tired. I know she had a nap, but it's been a big day." She looked down at Riley and spoke softly, "Are you tired, sweetie?" Riley wailed louder, her little hands bundling Jessie's shirt in their grasps, but as Jessie kissed her forehead her cries tapered. "I know it's been a long day. I understand - I need a break, too," she chuckled. "You've done so well."

Riley sniffled, her little shoulders hitching as her cries ebbed. Jessie signaled to her parents that she'd handle it. She and you took Riley over to a quiet corner of the hall. Jessie sat down, resting Riley in her lap and kissed the top of her head.

"She should really go down for bed," you said as you rubbed her back.

"Her and me both," Jessie said dryly with a smirk. "I'm exhausted." You played with her hair and kissed her cheek.

"And you didn't get a nap," you joked and Jessie gave you a playful sidelong glance. You rest your head on her shoulder. "Are we allowed to leave before the guests?"

"I think that's a bit of a faux pas, but honestly, I'm very tempted," she said as she eyed the room and contemplated the option. She looked down at Riley whose eyes were heavy as the toddler hung onto the precipice of sleep. She then glanced over at you. "I mean, everyone here knows neither you or I are big partiers. And, we have a toddler to look after..."

You chuckled, tucking a strand of Jessie's hair behind her ear. "I mean, your parents are happy to look after Riley and she's supposed to be staying with them again tonight."

"But she wants us," Jessie said with a pointed glance downward at their daughter who was resting very peacefully in her arms now. "Clearly."

You leaned over and kissed Jessie's cheek. "You know? I'm sure everyone will forgive us if we duck out."

------

A short while later, Riley was asleep in the middle of the king size bed in your cabin with Jessie laying next to her in a t-shirt and shorts, you climbing into bed in your pyjamas on the opposite side.

"Is this what you would've pictured for your wedding night years ago?" You teased as you lay propped on your side looking across Riley and over at Jessie who mirrored your position.

"Stone cold sober, party still raging on at the reception, and my toddler fast asleep between me and my new wife?" She asked with a lopsided grin, her head in her hand. "No. But I adore it." You snickered and gently pushed down Riley's rogue curls as she slept.

"Same," you said.

"We have a beautiful family and we're very lucky," Jessie mused as she carefully leaned over to give you a chaste kiss. You smiled into it and laid a hand on your stomach as Jessie pulled back.

"And maybe there'll be four of us soon enough."

A/N: That's all, folks! I can't thank you enough for joining me on this ride. What started as a one-shot I was super nervous to post, has been embraced by so many of you and you've allowed me to create and share this love story with you all. It truly means so much. Thank you!

[joaosnovia]

okay next, i js wanna laugh. okay so, were at a charity event or something, and im volunteering, helping hand out juice boxes, signing people in, keeping children from using cones as swords, that typa stuff. until FRANCO COLAPINATA shows up, he's js being annoying really, until shes had enough and YEET the juice box at his head, and then he's all nonchalant and shit like "UH HUH I DESERVED THATTT AHAHA" .... and then you can tell the juice box turned him on bc you can like tell he wants her, and thennn WEEKS pass, and he DM's her. "saw apple juice today. thought of you. still flinch when i see boxes. wanna hang out?” MUWUAHAHSNA

❦ - manzanas contigo.

warnings:: none, maybe cussing..?

writers notes:: pls send more franco/f1 reqs bc i loved writing this sm and hes so fun to write for!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @cherryloveshs

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you don’t even want to be here.

the email had said volunteers needed, and your overly kind soul had said sure, why not, and now you’re seven hours deep into wrangling children hopped up on fruit snacks and sun. the charity event is cute in theory, music, booths, a little track set up for games, and a bounce house, but in practice? it’s a battlefield.

you’re stationed at the welcome tent, handing out wristbands and juice boxes and fake smiles.

your feet hurt. your shirt is sticking to your back. a toddler is crying because he dropped his balloon into a bush. and some guy just tried to cut the line because he ‘swears his cousin is already inside.’

you’re not proud of how close you came to smacking him with the clipboard.

but then, because life has a sense of humor, he appears.

franco colapinto.

and you know it’s him, because who else shows up to a local charity event in an alpine cap, looking like he walked out of a sports magazine and directly into your personal hell?

you glance up at the exact moment he’s brushing a curl out of his eyes, all casual and oops i’m hot and didn’t mean to beenergy.

he scans the crowd, sunglasses pushed up on his head, mouth curled like he already knows he’s being stared at. and of course he is. a group of teenage volunteers behind you are whispering, one of them literally smacks the other on the arm and goes that’s him. that’s that guy. the car one.

sigh.

maybe if you stay perfectly still, he won’t notice you.

but of course, you are not blessed with that kind of luck.

his eyes land on you. direct. intentional.

and he starts walking over.

great.

you busy yourself with the juice boxes, shuffling them around pointlessly as if they need organizing, as if you’re not seconds away from face to face contact with a walking headache.

‘so,’ he says, leaning against the table like this is his full time job. ‘what does a guy gotta do to get one of those?’

you glance up. ‘a wristband?’

‘nah. a juice box.’

you stare.

he smiles.

you hold one up. ‘take it and leave.’

‘whoa. feisty. is this how you treat all guests, or am i special?’

you blink. ‘i’ve been here since 6am. i have zero patience and less charm left.’

‘good thing i’ve got enough charm for both of us.’

you raise a brow. ‘that supposed to work on me?’

he shrugs, peeling the wrapper off a straw. ‘worth a shot.’

he doesn’t leave.

he just stands there, sipping slowly, watching you like he’s never seen anyone pass out juice before. his gaze trails across your face, not in a creepy way, just annoyingly observant. like he’s trying to figure out what kind of person signs up for this kind of chaos and doesn’t run away screaming.

you try to ignore him. you really do.

but then he starts helping. like… physically taking wristbands from your hand to hand them to kids, leaning way too close to read names off the sign in list, nodding solemnly at the parents like he belongs here.

and the worst part? people believe it.

‘you two are adorable,’ one lady says as she signs in her daughter.

you nearly choke. ‘we’re not—‘

‘thank you,’ franco cuts in, smiling like he just won an oscar. ‘we try.’

you give him a look. he winks. kill me, you think.

it gets worse when a small child asks for apple juice and franco picks one up, does a dramatic gasp, and goes, ‘apple! the superior juice. i like your taste, kid.’

you break.

you don’t mean to. you truly don’t. but something inside you snaps, and the next thing you know, you’re yeeting a juice box straight at him.

it arcs through the air with surprising grace, smacks him right in the shoulder, and bounces off harmlessly onto the grass.

a moment of silence.

he blinks.

then he laughs. hard.

‘okay,’ he says, holding his hands up in surrender. ‘i deserved that. i fully, absolutely, one hundred percent deserved that.’

you cross your arms. ‘you think?’

he’s still grinning as he bends to pick it up. ‘apple again. symbolic.’

‘you’re ridiculous.’

‘you like me though.’

you scoff. ‘i like peace and quiet.’

‘you’re blushing.’

‘i’m hot. it’s eighty degrees.’

‘you threw a juice box at me.’

‘you were annoying.’

he tilts his head. ‘admit it. it was kinda satisfying.’

you bite back a smile. ‘maybe a little.’

he grins, stepping back finally. ‘i’ll leave you to your cone wrangling duties. but don’t be surprised if you see me again.’

‘god help me,’ you mutter.

he strolls away, sipping the slightly dented juice like it’s champagne.

and yeah. maybe your heart is doing something dumb.

maybe you do glance up once or twice, wondering if he’s still watching you.

maybe he is.

you don’t expect to see him again.

honestly, you’d hoped the juice box incident would be enough to scare him off. but two saturdays later, at a completely different event, you’re there, collecting raffle tickets and babysitting the world’s most chaotic face paint station, and there he is.

franco colapinto.

wearing a hoodie this time. hood up. trying and failing to blend in, as if his stupidly nice smile and the way he walks like the world was made for him don’t give him away instantly.

you see him from across the lot.

he doesn’t even try to be subtle. just lifts his hand in a little wave and starts walking straight toward you like this is a planned reunion and not a complete surprise.

you look around. as if there’s someone else he could be greeting. spoiler: there isn’t.

‘you again,’ you say when he reaches you.

‘me again,’ he grins, pulling down his hood like he’s revealing a secret identity.

you sigh. ‘are you following me?’

‘you wish.’

‘so this is a coincidence?’

he shrugs. ‘or fate.’

you deadpan. ‘you’re insufferable.’

‘you say that every time.’

‘i mean it every time.’

he gestures around, like he’s settling in. ‘need help again? or do i have to earn my juice box rights this time?’

you narrow your eyes. ‘don’t you have a job?’

‘i do. it’s off-season. i’m thriving.’

‘this is how you spend your free time? crashing fundraisers?’

‘not crashing,’ he says, very seriously. ‘contributing. i donated five bucks to the bouncy castle. i’m basically a hero.’

you don’t laugh. you don’t.

okay, maybe a little.

he’s already rolling up his sleeves and jumping into whatever task you’re doing, like last time, and suddenly you’re stuck with him for three hours again.

he helps a little girl glue pom poms onto a paper crown.

he nearly gets paint on his nose and doesn’t notice.

he lets a five year old draw a blue lightning bolt across his cheek and calls it his new racing stripe.

and every now and then, he looks over at you like you’re the funniest thing in the world, even when you’re just frowning at a clipboard or trying to untangle a balloon string from a folding chair.

you pretend not to care.

you pretend really hard.

the third time is the worst.

mostly because… you kind of expect him now.

you’ve made the mistake of mentioning your volunteer schedule to a friend on your story. and it’s fine. really. except now, when you show up to the saturday pet adoption drive with a clipboard and a tight ponytail, you scan the crowd. like an idiot.

he’s not there.

you tell yourself you’re relieved. that you don’t need another afternoon of his smug little comments and stupidly good hair.

but you still keep checking.

twenty minutes pass.

an hour.

two.

he doesn’t come.

you keep busy. hand out flyers. try not to cry when a little dog named charlie gets adopted. organize leashes by size.

and you don’t look at the time more than seven times. promise.

at some point, you’re wiping your hands with a napkin behind the tent when your phone buzzes.

it’s a dm.

from franco.

you blink.

sorry i couldn’t be there today. doing actual job things. tragic.

you stare at it.

then another:

but saw apple juice earlier. still flinched.

and another:

still want to hang out sometime. even if you hit me with stuff. maybe especially because you hit me with stuff.

you can’t help it. your lips twitch.

you don’t reply right away.

you finish your shift. take the long way home. drink half a juice box you saved from the cooler, even though it’s lukewarm now.

and when you’re lying on your bed, staring at the message, you finally type:

you’re impossible.

three dots.

impossible but charming?

you:

debatable.

him:

you didn’t say no though.

you stare at your screen for a second too long.

then:

one coffee. you pay. no weird pickup lines.

his response is immediate.

deal. i’ll try to behave. no promises.

you tell yourself it’s just a coffee.

one coffee. thirty minutes, max. maybe forty five if he says something dumb and you need time to drag him for it.

it’s not a big deal.

except it is. because you spend too long picking an outfit. change your shirt twice. then change it again. then panic change it back to the first one and tell yourself to get a grip.

you meet at some small place he picked, half hipster café, half bookstore. it smells like cinnamon and old paperbacks. you hate how nice it is.

franco’s already there.

and of course he looks… stupidly good. hoodie, again. curls poking out. one hand lazily spinning his coffee cup. and that grin, that stupid boyish grin, when he spots you.

‘you came,’ he says, standing.

‘don’t sound so surprised.’

he does a little half bow. ‘welcome to the least boring hour of your life.’

you roll your eyes and sit across from him. ‘don’t flatter yourself.’

‘not flattering. manifesting.’

you try to look annoyed, but the truth is, you’re already smiling. just a little. traitorous.

you talk.

not about anything huge at first. just… dumb things. favorite drinks. worst airport experiences. why he thinks pineapple on pizza should be illegal (you argue passionately against this).

he tells you about crashing a go kart once when he was twelve because he was ‘trying to wave like a champion’ and forgot to steer.

you tell him about the time you accidentally walked into the wrong class and sat through fifteen minutes of astrophysics before realising.

he laughs with his whole chest.

and it’s easy. too easy. every time your fingers brush reaching for the sugar, it feels like something electric. every time he leans in a little, like he’s really listening, your heart stutters.

you should not be this into him. and yet.

you’re both halfway through your drinks when he goes quiet for a second, then says, ‘i almost didn’t message you.’

you blink. ‘why not?’

he shrugs, looks down, spins the empty cup between his hands. ‘i dunno. didn’t want to be annoying.’

‘you already are.’

he grins, but it’s softer now. ‘yeah, but like… in a cute way.’

you shake your head, but your cheeks are warm. ‘you’re such a menace.’

‘you threw juice at me.’

‘because you were asking for it.’

he leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes on yours. ‘maybe i was.’

your breath catches. just a little. just enough.

you clear your throat. ‘you’re not smooth, you know.’

‘i don’t need to be. i just need to make you smile.’

you hate him.

you really, really don’t.

you leave the café two hours later.

two.

neither of you wants to say goodbye yet, so you walk. just… around. your shoulder brushes his once. then again. then a third time, and this time, it stays there. just for a second longer than it should.

he doesn’t let go first.

eventually, you end up back where you started.

he looks at you like he wants to say something. then looks away. then back.

‘can i see you again?’ he asks, soft.

you nod. and for once, don’t try to be clever.

‘yeah. i’d like that.’

the second date happens faster than either of you expect.

you’d planned to wait. play it cool. but then franco sends you a picture of a strawberry smoothie and says ‘looked gross. thought of u,’ and you end up laughing so hard in the middle of your kitchen that you just… cave.

you text him:
you free tonight?

he replies in literal seconds:
always. pick the time. i’ll teleport.

you meet again at the same café. but this time, he’s not already sitting.

he’s waiting outside. leaning on the wall. hoodie again, he really only owns five of them, he tells you later, and his curls are just barely damp from the light rain that’s started falling.

he sees you and that grin hits his face like clockwork. like he’d been saving it just for you.

‘you came,’ he says.

‘you say that every time.’

‘yeah, but like… every time you do, it messes me up a little.’

you pretend you don’t hear that part.

it’s darker inside. quieter. the same table’s free, but this time, you sit next to each other.

close.

too close.

he smells good. not in an obvious, cologne drenched way. it’s something warmer. shampoo and sugar and the kind of scent that lingers even after he leaves.

your knees touch under the table.

neither of you moves.

you talk again.

about bigger things this time. pressure. travel. burnout. he admits he sometimes feels like everything’s moving too fast, and he’s scared he won’t be able to hold on.

you nod. you tell him about how you fake confidence half the time. how sometimes you feel invisible until someone needs something.

he listens. really listens.

then says, ‘you’re not invisible.’

you blink. ‘okay?’

‘just saying. i notice you. always have.’

you laugh a little. ‘that’s creepy.’

‘yeah,’ he says, smiling into his drink. ‘but like… romantic creepy.’

you don’t mean to stay late. but time’s slippery around him.

by the time you realize it’s almost midnight, you’re both sitting outside the café, sharing a leftover pastry and watching the rain slide down the windows.

you don’t want to go.

he doesn’t want to say goodbye.

so he walks you home.

he stops outside your door.

you both kind of hover there. like two idiots waiting for someone to do something. say something.

‘this was nice,’ you say quietly.

‘yeah,’ he says, and then, softer, ‘i wanna kiss you.’

your breath catches.

he doesn’t move closer. doesn’t touch you. he just stands there, all warm eyes and soft voice.

you whisper, ‘then why don’t you?’

he grins. all teeth and nerves and too much hope.

‘cause the minute i kiss you, i’m not gonna stop thinking about it. and i want you to wanna kiss me back. like really want to.’

you stare at him.

he shrugs. ‘just being honest.’

you nod. heart in your throat.

then say, ‘next time.’

he smirks, already backing away.

‘i’ll hold you to that.’

you tell yourself you’re not waiting.

not waiting for a text. not waiting for a call. not waiting for the memory of him saying i wanna kiss you to stop looping in your head like some kind of cursed romantic ringtone.

but when his name flashes on your screen two days later, your whole face warms.

what if we didn’t do coffee this time?

you stare.

what do you wanna do then?

he replies instantly.

drive. music. idfk. i’ll bring snacks. you bring the vibe.

you:
so i’m the vibe?

him:
always.

he picks you up at 7:03.

he’s in a black hoodie this time, and his car smells like mint gum and the ghost of bad fast food. there’s a half eaten bag of crisps on the passenger seat, which he tosses in the back when you open the door.

‘you’re late,’ you say.

‘you’re early. time’s fake. get in.’

he drives like he thinks he’s in a movie.

one hand on the wheel. other messing with the aux. windows down. hair wind-blown and wild. he sings under his breath to every second song. raps to the third one badly. you don’t stop laughing the entire first hour.

you don’t know where he’s going, but you don’t care.

being next to him feels like its own kind of destination.

eventually, he parks by the water.

some random lookout. the city’s lights glitter below, far enough to feel small. the kind of view that feels too beautiful to deserve.

you sit on the hood of his car. shoulder to shoulder. knee to knee. the air’s cold, but not too cold. and everything’s soft. quiet.

for a second, neither of you says anything.

and then, gently, he says, ‘i think about kissing you a lot.’

you blink.

he keeps staring ahead, like he didn’t just drop a bomb. ‘not in a creepy way.’

you laugh. ‘do you always think you’re being creepy?’

‘only when i like someone too much.’

the words settle in your chest like warmth. like lightning.

‘franco,’ you say.

he turns.

‘kiss me.’

his eyes go wide. like for a second, he’s not sure if he heard you right.

then, slowly, he leans in.

he kisses you like he’s afraid to mess it up. like he’s been waiting exactly this long, and not a second less. soft, steady, sure.

and when he pulls back, he just rests his forehead against yours.

neither of you speaks for a minute.

you break the silence. ‘not bad.’

he huffs a laugh. ‘that’s it? not bad?’

‘seven out of ten. you’ll need practice.’

‘cool. guess i better keep showing up.’

you’re not sure when it shifted.

when the maybe turned into definitely. when the texting turned into facetime turned into mornings with your feet tangled under his on the couch. when the almost turned into always.

but now, here you are, franco at your door with a half-melted milkshake and a stupid grin, like he’s been thinking about this all day.

‘you’re late,’ you tease, taking the drink.

‘you’re still hot,’ he says, walking in like he lives here.

(he kind of does.)

you’ve been soft ever since the drive.

he kisses you now like he needs to. like he missed you, even if it’s only been a few hours. like kissing you is just a normal part of his day, something between brushing his teeth and ruining your kitchen by cooking you breakfast at 2 a.m.

sometimes, you wake up to his hand resting on your waist, his face buried in your shoulder. like his body forgets how to be without you.

you don’t say it. not yet. but you feel it.

you think he does too.

it’s been weeks.

weeks since franco colapinto got beaned in the forehead with apple juice and decided that was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

weeks since he dm’d you with that dumb message:
saw apple juice today. thought of you. still flinch when i see boxes. wanna hang out?

weeks since you said yes.

and now here you are, propped up on his couch, socks mismatched, face lit by the glow of a documentary you’re not watching, because franco’s lying with his head in your lap and he keeps dragging his fingers along your leg like he can’t believe you’re real.

‘what,’ you murmur.

‘nothing,’ he says. then, quietly: ‘just thinking about the juicebox.’

you snort. ‘again?’

he nods, sleepy and fond. ‘you threw that thing with intention. it was beautiful.’

‘you’re so weird.’

‘you’re the one who assaulted me with a children’s drink.’

‘you flirted with me for two hours while i was working.’

‘you looked hot with a clipboard. sue me.’

you roll your eyes. he reaches up, brushes your hair behind your ear.

‘you know i really did think about you every time i saw juice after that?’

‘you said that already.’

‘i mean it. i’d be in a store and be like… damn. i miss her aim.’

you swat him. he laughs. kisses your wrist.

later, when you’re brushing your teeth in his oversized hoodie, he pulls you into his arms and rests his chin on your head.

‘should we save the juicebox?’ he asks, voice muffled in your hair.

‘what, like… frame it?’

‘yeah. put it above the bed. shrine to our origin story.’

‘you’re so dumb.’

‘dumb for you.’

you groan. he grins.

he still gets teased by his friends about the Incident.

he still buys apple juice ‘for the bit’ and lines the fridge with it like a threat.

but when he kisses you goodbye before his next race, all soft and slow like he’s imprinting it in his memory, he says:

‘thanks for hitting me.’

and you say,
‘thanks for being annoying enough to deserve it.’

and maybe, maybe, that’s just your love language now.

[marauder-misprint]

Hiii, I absolutely love your work specially the Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader ones✨️

If you have time and if you liked the idea, I want to suggest another sirius x Slytherin!reader where they are in their sixth or seventh year and reader is a pure blood and her family is a member of 28 sacred and stuff AND her parents are having this ceremony and all other pure bloods are invited. This kind of ceremonies are a good place for families to introduce their children to other pure blood kids (in this case since it's reader's family's ceremony people would try to have her notice their sons)

Also I LOVE sirius and reader banter and playful arguments. Sirius very obviously likes reader but asking reader out means making his parents proud and he hates that. But then again he likes her so much :((

So one day they argue and reader tells him that he needs to get his shit together and she's not gonna tolerate this situationship anymore. She tells him about the ceremony and how there will be families who'd love to get their sons with reader so if Sirius actually cares about her, he couldn'tat least try and pretend to enjoy the ceremony for once and attend. (I WANT SIRIUS HUMBLED AND PUT IN HIS PLACE SO BAD CAN U TELL🤭)

Sirius obviously hates this kind of gatherings and wouldn't usually go. But if it means he will have a shot with reader he would consider going.(ALSO JEALOUS SIRIUS?? PLEASEÈ I WANT THAT)

so yea he ends up going all dressed up, I'm talking hair sleeked black and tuxedo and stuff. And reader's like holy shit you could have looked this hot this whole time and you settel for a ripped band t-shirt????

(Happy ending)

anyways I hope it didn't sound weird and I wish you the bests thank you so much💕💞💓

Hi! Omg this request! ❤︎ I've been sat. The ceremony you're talking about made be think of debutante balls and I highkey based it off of Gilmore Girls, although adjusted to fit to just one girl. Reader is the star of the night.

Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

'Put your money where your mouth is'

Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

7.2k words

cw: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sacred 28 pureblood type stuff, sirius has commitment issues

What you had with Sirius was complicated at best. Mostly because there was nothing officially with him. His tendency to come back to you time and time again, however, would say otherwise. Not that you were any less to blame, always letting him back in when you knew he would run if things started to become anything remotely serious. Were you frustrated with his inability to commit? Yes. Was there anything you could do to change your situation? You didn’t think so. 

It was sad, you thought. You really were quite fond of him and it seemed that he liked you a lot. Your mother informed you recently that your debutante ball was scheduled for Christmas break. It was an event that would draw other members of the Sacred 28 along with few other prominent pure blood families, the ones that didn’t make the list for unknown reasons. The Blacks would be invited of course, likely bringing Regulus as he was an eligible bachelor. And you liked Regulus. You really did. He just isn’t Sirius. 

You’d been to Sacred 28 balls before. You’d been to teas and socials. It wasn’t like this would be the first time you attended an event, or met with others of your social standing. Your debutante ball marked that you had reached an age where your parents, and you if your parents took your opinion into consideration, started looking for your future betrothed. These balls were notorious for being boring for the girl, paraded around and introduced into every male approximately your age. Attending them as a guest wasn’t bad. There was always good food and drinks, sometimes the music wasn’t horrible. 

So, you aren’t really looking forward to going home for Christmas. After receiving the letter from your mother, you complained about it. Loudly. To the faces of other members of Sacred 28 families, people who would be attending this ball. 

“Be funny to have you introduced to me,” Evan smirks, sitting across from you at breakfast. “Like I don’t already know your bra size.”

Right. Truth or Dare in the Slytherin Common Room earlier this semester. 

“As if one ball over break wasn’t bad enough!” you whine.

There would also be a ball on Christmas Eve, completely separate from your debutante ball. You usually liked the Christmas Eve ball – the hall would be beautifully decorated with the best desserts around and the adults usually drank themselves into oblivion so the kids were able to get their hands on the harder stuff as well. You just aren’t sure if you’ll be in the mood for it after all of the fittings, lessons and meetings you’ll have to attend before your ball. 

“At least you already know most of who’ll be there,” Pandora says, trying to get you to look on the bright side. “Junior, Regulus, Evan, Avery, the Prewett twins, Travers…”

“Abbott, Fawley, Macmillan, Ollivander, Shacklebolt should be there too,” Priscilla Parkinson adds. 

“Wow, members of the Sacred 28 will be there? Crazy,” you say sarcastically. 

“Just trying to be helpful…” Priscilla mumbles, returning to her breakfast. 

“You two are just lucky you have later birthdays or you’d be having your balls over break too,” you say with a frown. 

“You’ll make sure the food is dece, yeah?” Barty asks from next to Evan. “If I have to listen to Father go on about how good your family is, I want to have a good dinner.”

“Depending on how much Mother lets me help plan… I’ll do my best,” you sigh. 

Your mood is soured for the day, and possibly the week if you linger too long on the idea of the ball. In a perfect world, Sirius wouldn’t have run away from his family over the summer and he’d be attending the ball with them. And in a better world, you would’ve heard from Sirius himself that he was no longer at Grimmauld Place, rather than from Regulus. The younger Black ranted about it for a while on the train to Hogwarts. 

“Merlin, this thing is over a month away. No point in being bothered by it now,” Dorcas says as you’re still fuming by lunch. 

“I was hoping my parents would opt out of this stupid tradition,” you reply with an eye roll. “I’m allowed to be upset for the day.”

“Fine, ruin your own mood.”

“She has a point,” Avery says, sitting down next to you. “If any of our families were going to drift, it’d be her parents.”

You smack his shoulder. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m agreeing with you!” 

“Rudely.” 

“Whatever. Just don’t be mad when your parents pick me.” 

You scoff and turn your body away from Avery. As you do, Regulus takes the seat you’re turning toward. He raises his eyebrows at you but doesn’t say anything. You subtly shake your head and he gives you a single nod. That’s the thing with Regulus, he doesn’t need you to voice everything to understand you. Plus, you know that he’s not looking forward to the idea of being dragged to another ball. He’d skip the Christmas Eve ball too, if only his parents would let him. 

As you told Dorcas, you only let the idea of your debutante ball linger in your mind for the day. You let it slip your mind. It is a few months away and you have other things to put your energy toward. Your lessons. And absolutely destroying everyone in Gobbstones. But mainly your lessons and the endless amount of studying you have to do for them. It has you holed up in the library every day after your classes are done. 

“Most girls are prettier when they smile,” a familiar voice says behind you. “But you make frowning work.”

“Sirius,” you say with a steady voice. 

You don’t look up from your homework as Sirius takes the seat next to you. 

“What’s got you frowning all day long, love?” Sirius asks, leaning on the table.

Yes, you are frowning. As much as you try to not think about it, the ball lingers in the back corner of your mind. But you don’t see why you can’t be frowning while you work on homework. It’s not like it’s the most enjoyable activity.

“Where’s the rest of your entourage? You rarely make an appearance in the library without them,” you say, avoiding his question. You know he hates Sacred 28 events so why would you bother talking about the ball with him?

“You’re here. Isn’t that reason enough?” 

You look up from your book to roll your eyes at him. “Oh, so you have time for me again?” 

“I’d be an idiot not to.”

“You’re an idiot quite often then.”

“I had to… sort some things out. But I’m yours now if you want me.”

You hate that you do want him. You hate the way he makes you feel, how easy it is to smile around him, how pretty he is, how funny he is. You would say that you hate him, but it’s the opposite. 

“Do you know why I’m still taking Herbology?” you ask, looking back at your assignment.

His facial features scrunch together in confusion.

“No? I never had a greenthumb so I dropped it.”

“How come I didn’t have the good sense to do the same?” 

He leans forward to slide your assignment toward him. He scans it and smiles.

“Lucky for you, Peter and Remus are in your class,” Sirius says.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“And they’ve done this assignment.”

You raise your eyebrows as Sirius slides the parchment back your way. 

“I remember which book they used. Come with me to get it?” 

You nod. Then you’re following Sirius past rows of bookshelves until he turns into one of the aisles. He goes almost to the end of the aisle, scanning the titles on the shelves until he finds a red book with gold embossing. 

“This is it,” he says, gently waving the book.

You go to take the book from him but he immediately holds it out of reach. You glare at him and he smirks at you. You groan. You know what he wants and you know that you really shouldn’t cave this easily, but you do. You lean forward and place what was meant to be a quick kiss on his lips. But as soon as your lips touch his, his free arm is wrapped around your waist and holding you close to him. You don’t fight him. 

Soon enough, the book is laid down on a shelf and your back is pressed against the bookshelf. You and Sirius are practically entwined with each other. It is so easy to fall into old habits with him. His hands know every curve of your body, just as yours know his. 

It’s not until a prefect clears their throat at the end of the aisle that you and Sirius break apart. Sirius grins down at you as you hide your face in his shoulder. It isn’t the most compromising position you’ve been caught in with him, and certainly not the most embarrassing place to be caught. After a moment, you turn to grab the book he grabbed for you and slip out from under his arms which were still caging you in. 

“Thanks for the book, Sirius,” you say, walking away.

He follows you back to your table, which you honestly aren’t expecting. Neither of you say anything for a while. You need to get this assignment done and Sirius is apparently content with watching you work. At one point, some of your hair falls in your face and he doesn’t hesitate to tuck it behind your ear for you. You give him a soft smile before returning your focus to the book in front of you. 

I’m yours if you want me. Maybe he’s genuine this time. You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up. But when he’s looking at you like this, with such softness and adoration, you can’t help it. You’re practically putty in his hands. 

For the next two weeks, you and Sirius are constantly finding each other. You walk from class to class with his arm around your shoulders. He sits with you in the library. You sit with him at James’ quidditch practices. And then there’s all the time you spend in various alcoves around the school, tangled up in each other. 

“Someone’s back with her favorite Gryffindor,” Pandora says as you walk with her to Divination. 

You roll your eyes. Sirius doesn’t take Divination so it’s just you and Pandora on the long walk. He had given you a forehead kiss before he went off to Ancient Runes. 

“It’s not official or anything,” you say dryly.

“It never is,” she sings. She’s a few steps ahead of you when she stops and turns back to face you. “When are you going to make it official?”

“Sirius doesn’t do official,” you sigh. 

“Then why bother?” 

“Because I like him.”

You push past Pandora to get to the rope ladder. You hear her hum and follow you up the ladder. The classroom smells strongly of incense, a faint smoke fogging the air. You sigh deeply as you and Pandora gather around a crystal ball.

“Crystal-gazing again?” you ask in a hushed voice.

“Professor Whittle likes to make sure we haven’t lost our sight.”

“Not sure I’ve ever had any…”

“And yet, you’re taking N.E.W.T. Divination.”

“Easy O. What can I say?”

Pandora reaches to move the crystal ball on your table closer to her.

“Maybe you’ll see if your boy is in your future.”

“Class, remember to keep your minds open,” Professor Whittle tells the class loudly, apparently having heard Pandora’s comment. “If you are seeking a specific answer, it won’t come to you.”

When it’s your turn to gaze into the crystal ball, you try to clear your mind. Maybe the smoke would take shape for once. Maybe you would see something, a distinct curl, anything. As the smoke shifts inside the ball, you sigh. Nothing. You didn’t expect to actually see anything, but sometimes it was nice to hope. You push the ball back into the center of the table and grab your parchment and quill.

“You just wouldn’t believe it, Dora,” you say with faux-enthusiasm. “I saw signs of stress and worry in there. I fear Professor Slughorn may it out for us. At least two feet of an essay in our near future.”

“No!” she groans with a knowing smile. You have your usual go-to’s for when you don’t see anything.

After dinner, you and Sirius meet up in an alcove on the fifth floor. He comes in ranting about something he overheard Mulciber say. You listen, not really having anything to say on the topic. Mulciber wasn’t your favorite of the people in your house and it really seemed like Sirius was covering all of the bases in his rant. When he’s done, he cups your face and looks into your eyes. 

“But enough about that bastard, I got you right here.” He gives you a quick peck. “How was your day, love?”

“Crystal-gazing in Divination,” you say airily. “Looking into the great beyond!” You start giggling, still trying to talk. “Predicted that Slughorn would be giving us a long ass essay soon.”

“Hmm, no doubt. He likes to do that when we start a new unit.”

“And the new unit starts on Friday.”

“You’re brilliant. I’m sure Whittle will be singing about your prophecy come Monday.”

“Sure she will. But besides Mulciber, rest of your day was good?”

Sirius nods, kissing your cheek. “And getting better. With my favorite person, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows and cross your arms.

“I’m your favorite person, am I?”

“Ain’t that what I just said.”

“Put your money where your mouth is then, Sirius.”

He didn’t say anything, only tilting his head in confusion.

“Take me on a real fucking date. Ask me out. Let’s do something other than talk and snog.” 

“Oh.” The short response tells you everything you need to know. You groan and turn away from Sirius. “I-I’m sorry.”

The warmth of Sirius and the magnetized air that follows him like a cloud of smoke disappear. You’re left alone in the alcove. Alone again. You feel silly for having let him in, for thinking that maybe he’d stay for once and be more than an almost. You sigh heavily when you turn back around. It feels like the portraits that line the corridors of Hogwarts judge you as you walk back to the Slytherin Common Room, taking the longest route you could. 

You are tired of it. Tired of somehow not being enough for him, despite him saying that you’re his favorite person, that he’s yours if you want him. Because he’s not yours. He won’t be yours. It’s infuriating and you want to do something about it. You want to hit him where it hurts, make him feel how you feel every time he walks away from you. 

Priscilla, Pandora and Dorcas exchange worried looks when you enter the common room with a dead-to-the-world look on your face. They all know where you just came from, and they know that you usually wouldn’t be back this early.

“Something happened,” Priscilla whispers as you disappear up the stairs to the girls’ dorms.

“Course something did. It’s Sirius,” Dorcas says.

“Yeah, but that look?”

“She’s pissed,” Pandora says. “Maybe this time it’s done done.” 

As you lay in bed, you formulate your plan. You know there’s going to be collateral damage. There has to be in order for your message to really hit Sirius. You don’t want to have to tell anyone about your plan; that ensures that all reactions will be genuine. If you told someone about it, you might have been able to lessen the collateral damage. You could’ve asked Barty or Evan or Regulus for help. No. You wouldn’t drag them into this. You wouldn’t risk hurting them. 

You wait for the perfect moment. You need the key players to be in place. It takes a few days, which was to be expected. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you linger near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. You know you look tense as you constantly scan the staircases and walkways. You see Sirius two flights of stairs away from you, walking with the rest of the Marauders. 

Go time.

You walk up to Avery. He’s standing with all of his friends, people you don’t usually talk to. But Avery, being from the Sacred 28, is the exception. He says your name once you’re standing in front of him.

“You’re pretty certain my parents will love you?” you ask with a subtle tilt of your head. 

He chuckles and nudges Mulciber with his elbow. “You know it. I can charm when I need to.”

You gag internally. You can’t let it show, not if you want this to work. You listen intently for the footsteps of four rowdy Gryffindors. 

“Then, I think we should start practicing,” you say, taking a step closer to him.

You put your hands on his shoulders and kiss him. It’s no sweet little peck. It’s not gentle. It’s forceful and rough, which is how you assumed Avery likes it. And you get confirmation when his hands grip your hips firmly. He gives them a squeeze as he returns the favor with the same amount of aggression. 

The boys around you wolf whistle and cheer. That is the reaction you were looking for from them, something to bring attention to you. Then you hear some kind of grumbling and heavier footsteps pass by. You smirk into the kiss. The Gryffindors sounded upset. 

You wait for another moment or two before stepping back from Avery. He scans you up and down with hungry eyes. 

“Good luck impressing my parents,” you say sweetly, giving him a wink.

As you walk away from him, you can feel Priscilla and Dorcas’ eyes on you, and you can hear the boys cheering Avery on for somehow pulling you, despite how you’d been attached to Sirius only days ago. 

The girls follow you into the classroom. You see Peter nudge Sirius when he notices you enter the room. Sirius is slumped over his books, the stature of an upset teenager. Your smirk grows. You take your seat and both of your friends stand in front of you.

“Avery? Since when?” Priscilla asks.

You figured she’d be more intrigued by your choice than Dorcas. Well, Priscilla would be more supporting of whoever you chose; Dorcas is going to harshly judge you for it until you’re able to explain to her why. 

“A few minutes ago.”

“I thought you didn’t like him?” Dorcas asks, putting both her hands on the desk and leaning forward. “What changed?”

You shrug. “Thought about it and realized he has a point. There is a chance that my parents will pick him.”

“Then you might as well go around snogging all of the Sacred 28 boys. Prewett twins next on your list?”

“Fawley was looking pretty fit earlier today,” you say as if actually pondering it.

You aren’t. You have no need to. Based on how Sirius is still leaning over his books as students begin to file into the classroom, your little act had the desired effect. Sirius witnessed that you could move on from him – you couldn’t but what he saw said otherwise. 

Priscilla takes her spot next to you and Dorcas pulls out her own chair at the desk in front of you. She turns around every once in a while to look at you, trying to read your mind because, of course, she did not believe you for a second that you kissed Avery because of the slim chance your parents pick him. She also knows you wouldn’t kiss Fawley if you were the last two humans on earth. 

You half expect Sirius to approach you after class is dismissed. You try not to think about it too hard when he doesn’t. You and Priscilla hook arms and walk to Herbology together. Because of that, you don’t see how Sirius glared at you as you walked out of the classroom. James put an arm around his shoulder, steering him out of the classroom since he wasn’t walking out by his own accord.

“Mate, didn’t you just complain about her asking to be official or something?”

Sirius groans. “Yes, but-”

“Ah, no buts then. You go around kissing other girls. I reckon she’s free to do the same.” 

“She’s never done it before!”

“Maybe it’s where you haven’t been able to see?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No. I know her. She doesn’t go around with other blokes. And she certainly doesn’t go around with Avery.”

“Guess she does now,” James says disinterested. “Maybe you don’t know her as well as you thought.”

Sirius frowns but lets James lead him to their next class. He tries to focus on the lectures but his mind keeps drifting back to you and the way Avery had his hands on you. He hated it. It makes his stomach churn. And it only gets worse when he sees Avery sit next to you at dinner, close. Too close for Sirius’ comfort. He sits in silence throughout the entire meal, despite James, Peter and Remus’ attempts to get him to join the conversation. 

Avery leaves the Great Hall before you. Remus has to physically hold Sirius at the table to stop him from following Avery out. 

“Don’t,” Remus hisses. 

Sirius growls. 

“Mate, what has gotten into you?” Peter asks. 

“Nothing,” Sirius mutters. 

“Yeah, and this has absolutely nothing to do with your Slytherin,” James says.

“She’s not my-”

“And I think that’s what’s bugging you,” James says, making Sirius groan. 

Then you get up to leave and this time, no matter how hard Remus tries, he can’t stop Sirius from following you out of the hall. You had a head start so it takes Sirius a minute to find you. He calls out your name. You halt in your steps. You glance over your shoulder and roll your eyes, but inside, you are smirking. 

“You guys go ahead,” you say to the girls. 

They nod and continue on to the common room. You turn toward Sirius with your arms crossed. 

“What do you want?” 

“Avery, huh?” 

“Who I kiss isn’t any of your business,” you say flatly. 

“But you don’t like him. So when did that happen?” 

“I don’t see why you care? All I ever was to you was someone to snog. I’m sure the great Sirius Black can find another girl.” 

“You know you’re more to me than someone to snog.” Sirius takes a step toward you and you can really see the pleading look on his face. “I mean it when I say you’re my favorite person. I’d rather spend time with you than anyone else. I thought you felt that way about me.”

You scoff. 

“Oh, you mean when I asked you to put your money where your mouth is? Because I wanted to be your girlfriend? When you said ‘oh’?” You shake your head. “You need to get your act together and decide if you want me or not. Your time is running out.”

“What do you mean?” Sirius asks, although he assumes you mean you’re officially done with him. He needs to hear you say it.

“My debutante ball is over break.”

His face falls. He knows exactly what it means.

“Ah, so you remember what that means, lovely. But I’m going to reiterate it anyways, you know, just in case. My parents are going to invite anyone from the Sacred 28 who has a son around our age and a handful of others to a ball. A ball where I’m going to be paraded around.” Your voice becomes more agitated with every word. “And then my parents are going to decide who I marry. Which, as I’m sure you’ve put together by now with your magnificent brain, means that Avery could very well be their choice. I’m sure his parents would love that. So would the Rosiers and Crouch and Prewett and Fawley and Macmillan and-”

“I get the point.”

“Oh, do you? Because I don’t think you do. The rest of my entire life is going to be decided by who is at this event, and Merlin, I want you to be there. So if you care about me at all, you’ll come. You’ll pretend to enjoy the event, you’ll be pleasant. Or you better get used to seeing someone else with me. Got it?” 

You turn and storm away, leaving Sirius dumbfounded in the corridor. He watches you disappear around the corner and he still doesn’t move. He doesn’t move as other Slytherins coming from dinner walk past him. It takes him a while before he finally moves and goes back to Gryffindor tower. 

Both attending a Sacred 28 debutante ball and seeing you with another guy make him want to gag. He doesn’t think that asking you out would change the fact that you’re having a debutante ball, but maybe you thought your parents would take an existing relationship into consideration? He knows the reason he hasn’t asked you out is because it would make his parents happy. You would be perfect. You’re pretty, a Slytherin and from a Sacred 28 family. You have more promise than some of the other Sacred 28 kids. 

But you said you want Sirius at the ball. Even though he hasn’t been able to overcome his disdain for making his parents proud and actually date you, you want him at the event where your parents look for your husband. And that makes his heart pound. You like him so much more than Avery or the boys. 

For the last two weeks before everyone goes home for Christmas, Sirius is more quiet than usual. There’s a nonstop debate going on in his head. Does he go to the ball? How would he get there? How would he get in? He doesn't even know when it is. Does it really matter who he likes if he’s already been disowned? He’s already living with the Potters. The only way his parents would probably even find out would be through Regulus. 

He knows that if he doesn’t want to see you with someone else, he needs to step up. He just needs to figure out if he can. 

You, on the other hand, spend the last weeks at Hogwarts trying to avoid Avery whenever you can. That boy is overly confident in his ability to charm your parents, and you apparently. Although, you may have given him the wrong impression when you snogged him. You still consider it worth it since it got the reaction out of Sirius that you wanted. And if how Sirius is acting is any sign, your words got to him. You don’t think you’ve seen him so quiet for so long, and it appears to be jarring for his friends as well. 

Priscilla is confused as to why you snogged Avery and are now avoiding him. Pandora is with Dorcas on being confused why you snogged him at all, but they help you avoid him. Evan, Barty and Regulus all find it hilarious. Barty says it’s because Avery is a bad kisser and the other two think his reasoning is sound enough. You may have also not denied it. 

As soon as you get home from Hogwarts, your mother whisks you off to a fitting. From there, it’s last minute etiquette lessons and meetings with vendors. And then another fitting and styling. You have very little time for yourself. 

You’re not sure if you expected a letter or something from Sirius, but you have the sinking feeling in your stomach telling you that he’s not coming. Maybe him being quiet was him coming to terms that it really is over between you, or he was nursing his ego because you yelled at him. Either way, if Sirius isn’t there, you hope your parents decide on one of your less annoying classmates, so not Avery, or one of the less annoying of the older bachelors still looking for a wife.

The morning of your debutante ball, James leaves the kitchen with a frown.

Then he sees Sirius lounging on the couch and asks, “Mate, you got dress robes here?”

Sirius sits up slightly and cocks an eyebrow. 

“I think so. Why?”

James runs a hand through his messy hair. “Mum says we’re going to a ball or something tonight. Sending me out for a haircut and to see if they can, in her words, tame this.” He sighs. “See you in a bit.”

Sirius watches James go out the door. A ball. He immediately thinks of you, but the Potters aren’t a part of the Sacred 28. There’s no way it’s your ball. He gets off the couch and goes to the kitchen to find Euphemia. 

“Mum,” he says.

“Sirius, yes, I heard you tell James you should have dress robes,” she says, assuming the robes were why he came into the kitchen. “Tea?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Sirius sits down at the table while Euphemia pours a cup for him. 

Then she sits down across from Sirius and a sincere expression takes over her face.

“The ball we’ve been invited to… it’s a Sacred 28 event.”

Sirius’ heart rate begins to accelerate. The chances of it being your debutante ball just increased tenfold. 

“It’d be too disrespectful for us not to go. So me, James, Monty, we’re going. You get the option. You don’t have to go. Not if you don’t want to. We can tell James that you’re not feeling well and he won’t be any the wiser.”

“No,” Sirius says, shaking his head. “I’ll go.”

“You sure?”

Sirius nods and Euphemia leaves it at that. She had been fully expecting Sirius to stay behind. She didn’t think he’d want to spend an evening at an event that his parents would likely be at. For a few minutes, they drink their tea in silence. Then she tells him what time they are planning on leaving and to make sure he was ready by then, assuming he didn’t change his mind. 

“I won’t. Thank you for the tea.”

Hours later, James and Sirius let Euphemia fuss over the small details of their outfits before Monty can insist that they need to leave. Sirius remembers when he got these robes. He remembers sitting on his bed and cutting the embroidered tread that spelled out his family’s motto inside of the breast pocket. Even in his hatred for his family, he knew that dress robes were essential to have and overall, this set wasn’t terribly uncomfortable so he kept them. 

Whatever salon James went to worked a miracle on his hair and Euphemia has already whacked his hand away from his head several times. The urge to run his hands through his hair is apparently quite strong – that or it’s just habit at this point. Sirius had slicked his curls back, and James gawked at how easily he had done so. 

“Hair care, my friend. And I don’t have a bird’s nest on my head every other day of the year,” he told him. 

Now, Sirius fidgets with the rings on fingers as he waits for the Potters to be ready to leave. Euphemia sees this and hopes that Sirius is making the right choice by coming with them. She makes a mental note to watch him carefully. 

When they arrive at the ball, Sirius stands a little bit back from the family. He lets them enter and be announced as a family – “The Potters.” And then he slips in to follow them. He doesn’t want to be announced. He decides he made the right choice with that when he spots Regulus across the room. His parents are already here. But so are many other Sacred 28 families and it’s easy to avoid Orion and Walburga. 

Your parents are walking around the hall, welcoming the families to their event. The Potters make sure to thank them for the invitation. James and Sirius stand behind them as they do so, not trying to draw too much attention to themselves. The Prewett twins see the boys and wave them over. James taps his father’s shoulder and whispers to him before they go over to their fellow Gryffindors. 

You’re in an upstairs room applying finishing touches to your makeup. Some woman your mother hired had already finished your hair. You keep glancing at the clock, which you swear has started moving slower. It has been like this all day. You were fussed over while your parents stressed over the last minute details and directed vendors to set up the venue. You’re just waiting for a staff member to come get you to be presented. 

Your name echoes in the ballroom. You stand at the top of the grand staircase before slowly going down it. You’re too focused on not falling on your face to even attempt to see who all showed up. And somewhere in the crowd, unknown to you, Sirius is watching you with adoration in his eyes – he thinks you look more divine than you ever had. 

You greet your parents at the bottom of the stairs and light strings fill the air, signalling the portion where you’d walk around with your parents to “meet” the boys in the room. You keep a polite smile on your face and speak when spoken to. Evan looked like he was struggling to keep from laughing. Barty looked positively grim standing next to his father. Avery stared at you with hungry eyes that made you shift uncomfortably. Regulus had his trademark stoney expression. You tried to hide your surprise when you saw James and his parents. James offered you a sympathetic smile, which you didn’t know how to respond to. 

After meeting with all of the families, too many in your opinion, it is time for dinner. Your family sits at the head table while the guests fill in the various round tables in the room. When the meal is served, you see Barty raise a toast to you; the food meets his standards, not that you really had any influence over it. Not the main meal, at least. Your mother asked what dessert you’d like served. 

Then comes the last part of the event: socializing, drinking, dancing. You have half a mind to go find Pandora, knowing she’d be here somewhere. You scan the room for her as you stand next to your parents. They are conversing with parents again because just presenting you to all the families isn’t enough to garner how well someone’s son might provide for you. Like you’re incapable of providing for yourself… 

Your thoughts still. You look away and then back again, making sure it’s not your imagination. He’s here. Sirius actually came. Not only that, but he looks amazing in his dress robes. Even from a distance, you can tell they must’ve cost a fortune. Part of you wants to chastise him for wearing ratty band t-shirts with torn jeans at school when he has the ability to look this breathtaking. You place a gentle hand on your mother’s arm and excuse yourself. Then you beeline for Sirius. 

“Sirius,” you breathe. It’s all you can manage due to your heart pounding in your throat and your general disbelief that he’s actually here for you. 

“Why, hello gorgeous,” he says coolly, taking your hand and kissing it in a deep bow. “Would you grant me the honor of a dance?”

You nod, unable to speak. He holds your hand raised to shoulder level and leads you to the dance floor. It’s so easy to dance with him, to hold onto him and let him lead. You can’t help but think that this feels right. 

“You’re here,” you manage to say quietly after one song.

“You told me to.”

You roll your eyes as the next song begins and Sirius starts to move you around the floor again.

“I’ve told you a lot of things.”

“Well, as you know, I’m an idiot quite often.”

You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. He’s here and he’s dancing with you and he’s looking at you like he will fight anyone who tries to take you from him. And he just called himself an idiot. With each passing song, Sirius looks at you with a softer and softer gaze. It’s enough to make you blush. 

But after several songs, you need a break. 

“I need to check in with my parents. Don’t go far.”

Sirius nods and kisses your hand again. Your small smile from dancing with him turns into a wider grin. He’s here and acting like a proper gentleman. You find your parents standing off to the side, having obviously been watching you with Sirius. 

“Who is that young man?” your father asks as soon as you walk up to them. He’s eyeing Sirius as he talks with the Prewett twins again. 

“Sirius. Sirius Black,” you say, trying not to stumble over your words. 

“A Black?” your mother repeats with interest. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

You nod. “I was.”

Your father hums. You look from him to your mother and back again. You hate that they have unreadable expressions. Indifferent. You suppose it’s better than instant distaste. 

After a few moments, your father says, “Go mingle. This is your ball.”

You nod and as soon as you turn around, Sirius is walking toward you with two glasses in his hands. He offers you one, which you take. You walk around the room with him, holding onto his arm. 

“I still can’t believe you actually came,” you say after one lap of the room.

“I had to. I care for you more than you know.” His voice is soft and steady, and his tone tells you these words are just for you to hear. “I’ve had my head up my arse for far too long.” 

You chuckle softly. “I could’ve told you that.”

“You did. Several times. I was so caught up in my own bullshit that I didn’t listen. I didn’t see the perfection right in front of me.” 

You look at Sirius like he hung the moon in the sky just for you – only he’s looking at you the exact same way. The things this man did to your heart. 

Once your drinks are finished, you return to the dance floor for a few more songs. Yaxley, an older boy who graduated Hogwarts a few years ago, asks for a dance and you give Sirius a look that wordlessly says you have to dance with someone other than him despite not really wanting to. Yaxley doesn’t talk much during the single dance but thanks you when the song’s over. As he walks away, Fawley comes up and asks for a dance. And after him, Travers and Gideon Prewett and finally Barty. 

“Junior, I’m surprised,” you say with a smirk. Frankly, you’re glad to be with someone you consider a friend after people you’ve barely ever talked to. 

“Father’s going to talk to your parents again. Said I should get more acquainted with you.”

You laugh. “He doesn’t know you’ve helped me with more than one Herbology essay?”

“That man knows nothing of my life. As long as the grades come home, he doesn’t actually care. If he did, Merlin help me.” Barty spins you before holding you close again. “I think he’s saving you though. I think I say the Averys headed toward your parents again with him in tow.”

“Hopefully your father can talk until they move on.” 

Barty grins and leans in to whisper, “Love, I knew you’d love to spend your life with me rather than that twat.”

You scoff, but give him nothing more of a response. Soon enough the song ends and Sirius is back at your side.

“I need a break,” you say with a sigh.

Sirius leads you over to the drinks. He stays at your side for the rest of the night, not letting anyone else dance with you. He kisses your cheek when James comes to collect him as his parents are ready to leave. That helps connect some dots for you. If Sirius is living with the Potters, he would have come with them. But the fact that he came still means the same to you. He still chose to spend most of the evening with you. 

You find your parents and follow them around. Various families come up to say goodbye to them. You briefly see Pandora when the Rosiers take their turn.

“You look lovely,” she says before pulling you into a hug. “And I saw you with your Gryffindor,” she whispers. 

You exchange knowing smiles. There were a few more families after the Rosiers before you could go home. Your parents don’t talk about who they liked the best when you get home. They tell you to go to bed and you can discuss it in the morning. 

“Are you friends with the Crouch boy?” your father asks when you gather in the sitting room after breakfast. “Bartemius said he’s in Slytherin with you.”

You raise your eyebrows in slight shock. You hadn’t been expecting Barty to make your parents’ list. 

“We’re friendly, yes.” 

“His family has good connections with the ministry. Good thing to keep in mind,” your father adds. 

“And it’s good of you to have danced with Yaxley. His parents really are lovely. He already has a good job. You’d be very well provided for,” your mother says.

You shift uncomfortably on the couch. Of those two, you’d much rather have your parents pick Barty. He’s at least your friend, you know him. You’ve barely even spoken to Yaxley at previous Sacred 28 events. You wouldn’t even call him your acquaintance with how little you know of him. 

“That boy you were with all night. You said he’s a Black?” your father asks.

“Yes,” you answer probably too quickly and with too much enthusiasm. 

“Yet he wasn’t with Orion and Walburga when we met their boy… What’s his name…”

“Regulus is his brother,” you tell him. Would the fact that Sirius is disowned sway your parents’ opinion of him? 

“Right, right.” Your father clears his throat. “We’d like to talk to him. Being how… at ease you were with him, would you invite him over for tea before you go back to school?”

Your eyes go wide. Your parents want you to invite him for tea? 

“Darling,” your mother says, immediately catching your curiosity at their request, “you practically spent the whole night with him. He seems like a gentleman and is from a good family. We’d like to meet him properly.”

You nod. “I… I’ll write to him tonight.”

“Very well. You are excused.”

You’re smiling to yourself as you leave the sitting room and head to your room. The fact that your parents want you to invite Sirius over means that they actually care what you think. And if Sirius meant everything he said last night, he’d come and be presentable to your parents. The tea would be after the Christmas ball, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be gushing about it to Pandora and Priscilla. They’ll be wanting to know who your parents liked. 

Hopefully Sirius will accept and be on his best behavior to finish winning over your parents. Otherwise, you’ll be talking Barty up to your parents. 

Tags: @navs-bhat, @bruxa0007

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[bootsukki]

0.

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There's nothing Tsukishima hates more than people trying to get information about his life. More especially, his dating life.

He hates it even more when it's his friends doing it.

Tsukishima has always considered himself a really honest person and he can't even recall the last time he lied (maybe it was that time he told Akiteru the cake he made for his 15th birthday was good?) but, as he has grown older, he has discovered that sometimes honesty is a curse. Being so blunt can cause problems, especially when it comes to someone asking for his opinion on clothes, he is really not the person to go for in those kinds of situations.

Tsukishima has also realized that, by being honest, people can make their own opinions, and he doesn't like that one bit.

Tsukishima has nothing to hide, so, why should he lie?

He sips on his beer, watching as his friends talk passionately about something. This was a last-minute get together proposed by Tobio Kageyama, one of his closest friends from high school. All of his group of friends are friends he has had since he was a teenager and now, university students, they are still going to the same university, different majors.

Tsukishima tends to like these midweek hangouts after working all day on projects, tests...

A few questions regarding Tadashi Yamaguchi's last tests followed from Shoyo Hinata but it wasn't long before Kei was placed as the topic of conversation.

"Hey, so." Kageyama sits down on the booth, takes his own beer, and looks at his friends. "Those girls by that booth are single."

"Cool." Tsukishima answers, finishing his beer. "You can ask them for their numbers."

"No need, my contact list is already full." Tsukishima grimaces at that statement. He hates when Kageyama gets into his "look at me I'm so cool and I fuck a lot" façade he has had since they started college. Kageyama was the most popular one out of their group and Tsukishima could understand why. He was athletic and confident but at the same time, he was a bit of a nerd when it came to volleyball, which always caught girls’ attention. "You never go on dates."

"That's true." Ryunosuke Tanaka adds, turning to glance at the girls. "You've never said anything about girls."

"No offense but... I don't talk about girls as if they were prizes."

Hinata laughs, looking at Kageyama with a smirk.

"Are you hiding something?" Kageyama insists. "You never tell us anything!"

"Well, I'm all ears for your love life, Kageyama, be my guest and delight us with all you have done this week. Still seeing Sayuri? Oh, wait, you dumped her for... Amane, was her name?"

"Ha, ha."

"I have a lot of stuff to focus on."

"Oh yeah? School breaks are a thing, you know?” Kageyama says and Tanaka nods vigorously. "You can't tell me that you haven't noticed anyone in campus on in your neighbourhood, I mean... You block is full of gorgeous woman who wouldn't mind dating you."

"What is your point?" Tsukishima feels himself getting irritated with the conversation.

Kageyama shrugs, exchanging a look with Yamaguchi. "I mean... If I lived where you do, I wouldn't waste a second. It doesn't have to be serious, it's not like you are going to marry any of these girls. They just want to have fun and enjoy their university life while they can."

"You should give dating a go, it's not that bad." Hinata adds, grabbing some olives.

"See? Even Hinata agrees."

"I think you should mind your own business."

Tsukishima hasn't met anyone he's wanted to date. He found some girls attractive, but he is too awkward to approach them. And truth be told, he was completely content with how things were in his life.

Tsukishima likes his routine, he likes everything about it, going to class, hanging out with friends... He has never thought about seriously dating.

Although, he couldn't help but think in some way, his friends are right. You never know how it will go until you give it a try, right? Maybe casually dating is not that bad. He doesn't want to be Kageyama, with girls hating him because he's obviously an asshole without feelings but he doesn't want to spend his university years not trying out new things and discovering what he genuinely likes or not.

"Dating is so much fun." Kageyama adds with a sigh.

"You don't date, Tobio." Yamaguchi chimes in the conversation. "If that's dating, Tsukki is in his right mind about not doing it."

"Don't be such a..." Kageyama trails off, focusing on the group of young women who have just entered the bar. Tsukishima recognises one of them, Mei, who goes to one of his classes. Mei turns her head and, noticing Tsukishima's presence, sends him a smile and a wave. Tsukishima smiles and averts his eyes after a few seconds. "party-pooper."

"Tsukishima!" Hinata nudges him on the shoulder. "She just smiled at you. Love is knocking on your door, answer it."

"She's still looking at you, champ." Tanaka adds, giving Tsukishima all their empty glasses. "While you're at it, buy us more drinks."

"Tanak-"

"Hi." Tsukishima turns, looking at Mei right in front of him and all of his friends leave small (but audible) gasps. "Need help with that?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Mei grabs some of the empty glasses, walking towards the bar, which isn't far along from his table. "How is the modern history project going? It's rough, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah, it's lengthy as well."

Mei smiles, nodding, leaving the empty glasses on the bar. "It's probably the worst one of all the ones we have."

"Yeah."

She looks at the empty glasses. "Would you like a drink?"

Tsukishima can't understand why, but he falls silent. Mei is a really nice girl and she's not ugly by any means, she’s totally gorgeous. He looks back at his friends, who are waiting for his answer but...

"I'm fine, thank you."

Mei's smile flattens for a second but doesn't seem disappointed by his answer. "I get it, classes tomorrow." Tsukishima nods. "But," she adds, getting closer to him. "If you're free tomorrow, maybe we can work on the history project and grab a drink afterwards."

Mei's bolder than he originally thought but he's not interested in her. They are classmates and that would only complicate things.

Tsukishima knows his friends are watching, completely abandoning their conversations, expecting an answer from him.

"I have a girlfriend." Tsukishima blurts. "Well, I'm seeing someone."

Mei blinks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Oh." Tsukishima wants to run, awkward tension rising between them but, without thinking, Mei regains her composure and smiles. "I didn't know, my bad."

Mei turns away and goes back to her friends.

His table has fallen completely silent, and Tsukishima just turns to the bartender.

"5 beers, please."

"What was that?" Kageyama is already at his side. "Mei Watako offers you a drink and you lie?"

"You know her?"

"Of fucking course I know her. She's Mei Watako, she's so hot." Kageyama glances back at her. "And she's still looking at you. You're a lost case."

Tsukishima feels his blood boil and looks straight into Kageyama's eyes.

"She may be hot but as I said, I'm seeing someone."

"As if."

"Tobio, that wasn't a lie." Tsukishima grabs some beers and goes back to the table. "Here you go."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"As I said, mind your own business."

"You're serious." Kageyama adds, laughing. "Who? Since when?"

"I'm seeing someone, that's all you need to know."

"Oh, come on! I need to know who she is! You must really like her if you're turning down a drink and a fun time with Mei."

"You don't know her."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure. She hates assholes like you." Tsukishima doesn't feel like drinking anymore and grabs his jacket. "I'm out. See you at home, Yamaguchi."

You open your mailbox, taking out the letters that are meant for you and your roommate to find, once again, letter for your neighbours. With a sigh, you take them, locking your mailbox before making your way up the stairs to your apartment on the second floor. As you approach the stairs, you see your floormate, Tsukishima Kei stepping through the main door.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey." You wave, showing him the letters addressed to him. "Ugh, again?"

"Yeah, sorry. I don't know why they keep putting them on our mailbox."

You hover for a bit before making your way up, Kei following close behind.

"No, I'm sorry. We told the building manager, but he doesn't seem to care about it."

You nod, not knowing what to answer.

You've known Tsukishima for almost a year. He had been living in the block for three years and you moved in after... Well, after it all happened. You friend Hikota had a free room, and you took it without even questioning the logistics or how long it would take you to go to your classes.

You only see Kei in passing and it has only been a few months since you know his name, thanks to the incorrect mail you always seem to get but, being honest, he's the only person you talk to on the block aside from Hikota, him and his roommate Yamaguchi.

With nothing more to say, you stop at your door, waving goodbye. "See ya."

Kei nods, walking to his door, just a few meters away from yours.

As you enter, you take off your shoes and leave your backpack on the floor, making your way towards the kitchen, trying to find something to snack on before continuing with your digital documentation essay.

It didn't matter the day it was, your schedule always seemed full of assignments, projects, and tests. Although, that may be your fault. After last year, you decided to focus 100% on your studies, completely ignoring your social life, which you didn't have after almost all your friends stopped talking to you. All of them except for Yachi Hikota, the small-blonde girl who decided to be your friend after meeting in an elective course about graphic design.

You sigh, taking a bite of the cereal bar you had found. You're somewhat comfortable with the way things are but you cannot lie and say that you are happy with it. You don't have fun weekends like all your neighbours, you don't go out as much as you would like. Not as much as you used to.

Hikota invites you out with her friends and although you sometimes do accept her invitation, you sometimes feel out of place. Hikota's friends are nice, but you're hit with jealously when they talk about their plans, their boyfriends and everything in between.

Making friends at 21 feels weird. Everyone has their own friends. You're not a new student navigating through life and doing things for the first time. You're a third-year journalism students that feels... lonely.

Shaking your head, you throw the wrapping on the bin and walk towards your room.

Tsukishima cannot believe that he actually lied to his friends. There's no one in his life. He's not even texting anyone.

Why? Why did he do that? What is he supposed to do now? There's no way he can find a girlfriend and he knows that Tobio won't drop the subject until he meets Tsukishima's girlfriend or discovers the lie.

He's pathetic.

He has never been one to get his ego hurt by these things but tonight have been different and he just... said it. There. Done.

His phone buzzes at the back of his pocket. Taking out his phone, he feels himself getting angry again at Kageyama's message on the groupchat.

Our Tsukki's probably with his girlfriend atm (YES!!! he has a girlfriend!!!), wrap it first, k? ;)

"Fucking assh-"

The gears in Tsukishima's brain start to function and he locks his phone, grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, walking towards door 927.

Tsukishima Kei's intense gaze falls to the ground, a flush at the tips of his ears, slowly spreading to his face.

"Excuse me? To be your fake-girlfriend?"

Tsukishima nods. You're by no means friends. You're only... neighbours.

You part your mouth, trying to think of an answer but, the only things that comes out of it is a laugh.

"You're joking."

But... he doesn't seem like he is joking. Tsukishima's cheeks are flushed, and you are crossed between surprise and confusion.

You are... strangers.

"I..." You clear your throat. "What?"

Tsukishima looks down at you and even though he's a giant of a man, he looks like a little kid at the moment.

"You can say no. This is just... sorry."

"Kei, no, I..." You look at him, trying to find an answer. "Why do you need a fake girlfriend? You're cute enough to get a real one."

Tsukishima's eyes widen and you part your mouth.

"I mean... You are... You... Never mind."

"Listen," he sighs. "All my friends are dating around, having lots of fun and yeah, I don't mind being like... single."

"But... They pick on you for being single?"

"I have a friend that... Tobio Kageyama, you know him?"

You shake your head. Why would you know his friend?

"Thank God..." Tsukishima sighs. "Anyway, he does, pretty much. I didn't mind at first but..."

You cross your arms over your chest. "It's..."

"I know. It's immature that 21-year-old men do that. It's stupid."

"So? Tell him."

"Yeah..." Tsukishima rans a hand through his hair. "I.... IsortofsaidIwasseeingsomeone haha."

"What?"

"I said, like, in the heat of the moment that I was... you know... seeing someone."

You laugh before you can even think about it.

"I... I just need someone to fill the spot for a few weeks and then I'll say we broke up."

You look at him. "Why me?"

Tsukishima looks at you.

"I... know you." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "This is pathetic but you're truly the only woman I interact with, if we even can call it interactions.” He stops for a second. “I don’t remember you having a boyfriend or anything, so… And, it is not that weird right? It is believable, we're neighbours, we could have met literally anywhere, we go to the same university... And, the best thing is that, you practically don't know any of my friends except for Yamaguchi and he doesn't notice a lot of things." You nod. "We don't know anything about each other, I know but... You seem like the perfect option."

You keep looking at him. He's right, in some way. You don't know or seem to know any of his friends and the idea of being friends make everything logical. Neighbours who meet because they get each other’s mail, start talking and date. Sounds a lot like those romance books you used to read before you were swamped with university work.

Except for the fact that, as he said, you know nothing about him.

"I know it is a lot to ask of you, but I can pay you or...."

You start thinking about it more seriously. If he needs a girlfriend to introduce to his friends, that means that you will probably interact with people. Interactions raise your social life and who knows? Maybe you'll have fun.

"Will you take me on dates?"

"Dates?" Tsukishima asks. "Like, you and me?"

"I mean... That's what dates are. And...." You smile. "I guess I should really get to know my “boyfriend” before he introduces me to his friends, right?"

"You'll do it?" Tsukishima smiles warmly. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be your girlfriend." You say. "Well, pretend. And you won't have to pay me or anything, I'm sure."

"Okay. Okay!" Tsukishima reaches for your hand, shaking it and bowing his head. You blush for a second and look at him. "Okay, thank you. Really, thank you. Just... if you ever want to quit, tell me and I'll just... I'll do it, okay? I’ll say we broke up or something."

"Okay." You laugh at his antics. "Have my number. We need to plan this perfectly if I'm going to meet your friends."

"Yeah, sure." Tsukishima extends a hand, giving you his phone and you offer yours. You exchange contact information as you plan your first moves: meeting for coffee tomorrow.

"I finish classes at 4, maybe we can meet in Suno's dining hall?"

"Yeah, that's perfect."

"Great, see you and thank you again."

"Bye, Tsukishima."

As you close the door, you smile, finding yourself nervous with the idea of the future of this lie.

[thedivineden]

Anatomy Pt. 2

pairing: Armin Arlert x reader ft. Eren Yeager

genre: smut

words: 800+

notes: collegeau!, nerdmin, light flirting

AN: Part three in the works now! I appreciate everyone who has read so far, I swear I’ll keep going LMAO. Part One ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

The remainder of the week goes without incident, and the party night became background noise for my schoolwork. I'm either studying in the library or in class. Although today I was in the library earlier than usual due to a canceled class, I found my usual corner spot taken by Eren and Armin.

Normally, I would look for another location and steer clear of people at all costs. But our prior exchange only made me more open toward the occupiers. Eren looks up first, facing me as he hears my footsteps. He gives Armin a small smirk and whispers something to him; Armin doesn't look back, but I can see tension in his shoulders.

I walk up to the table, greeting both of them and asking Armin if anyone is sitting next to him. He looks up at me with a small smile shaking his head no, moving his stuff over to allow me to sit and take out my books and laptop. "Hopefully, you guys don't mind me sitting here, even if this is my normal study spot." I say laughing.

Eren is quick to engage in flirtatious and playful banter with me about the study area and how I will now have to "fight to keep him away from here." Armin's quips are even funnier, with a hint of flirtation, as if he's testing the waters. "Eren, you're going to scare her away." Armin says, I watch them out of the corner of my eye. Armin is clearly looking at Eren, signaling something, but I'm not too sure what.

Eren rolls his eyes and starts packing up his belongings, mumbling something about soccer practice, leaving me and Armin alone in the library corner. He doesn't say anything for at least ten minutes, which leads me to believe we'll be studying quietly together. Without looking up from his book, he says, "You didn't text me." I was surprised and a little curious.

I pause for a moment, noting how my prolonged silence only caused his leg to bounce slightly. "You're correct; I didn't text you." He looks at me for a moment before returning to his textbook, asking, "Are you doing well in your studies?" I laugh internally at his question, wanting to pursue it further; he clearly needs some coaching. "I am. Why?" His leg briefly stops shaking before resuming. "Then there's no reason for you to have my phone number, correct?"

"Correct. Would you like me to delete it?" I say teasingly, I could see a slight blush on his cheeks start to form, "My number could be used for other purposes rather than studying, so no. I rather you keep it and use it." he says packing up his stuff and leaving me alone.

His reaction only fueled whatever came next, I pull out my phone and text him. "What other purposes Armin?" and continue the rest of my day studying. He doesn't text me back the rest of the time I'm at the library and once I return to my dorm Sasha is all over me. She's asking me a million questions I stop her and ask her to slow down and tell me what's going on.

"Dude, we got invited to the party of the fucking century. Me, I understand because I've known them forever, but you? How did you get invited to the cabin?" I look at her perplexed, "Cabin? No one told me about a cabin, what are you talking about?" She pulls out her phone, slightly exasperated by my lack of knowledge, showing me a group chat that details a cabin trip and a guest list, brandishing familiar and unfamiliar names, along with my own.

"I have no idea what this is Sasha, also who is them?" Sasha tells me the group chat is compromised of her, some guy named Jean, Connie, two girls names Historia and Mikasa, Eren and Armin. I ask her who added me to the list but she only smiles and laughs. I knew that meant a she wasn't going to budge and I'd have to be left in the dark. I shoot her a pointed look and hear my phone ding from my bag.

I reach for my phone and see Armin's bold but ambiguous text: "Anything you want." He then sends me an invitation to the cabin. Over my shoulder, Sasha is observing the dearth of messages, which amounts to flirtation already beginning. She teased, "Oooh, perhaps he invited you," and walks off to her room.

The rest of the week, I'm texting Armin nonstop, he's witty, funny, a bit of a smart ass and incredibly flirty.  After telling me about his anatomy class, he would tell me that he needed a "hands on experience" and ask me to be his test subject. Or he would ask if he could "learn me, inside and out" while we were deep in conversation, complimenting me on my body structure.

I'm completely flustered, often responding teasingly, leaving him guessing whether his advances are working. I'm eternally grateful that he doesn't see how flushed I am. I received another text from him inviting me to his dorm and providing his building and room number. I replied back, "I'll come, but keep your hands to yourself, Arlert."

He responds immediately.

"No promises."

[traincat]

Hello! A bit of a silly question, but are there any iconic or standout Johnny or Peter outfits from the comics? For Johnny, ones that aren’t Fantastic Four uniforms specifically. Hope you’re having a good day/night! I love reading ur comic rambles !

Oh, the outfits. Not sure if these are what you wanted by iconic or standout, but these are the ones I think about a lot.

So, on his own, Peter's not the most interesting dresser, but he's not bad at it, either.

This is a pretty typical look for him -- Turtleneck with this style of jacket, pants, hiking boots. It works for him, but there's a practical aspect here, too, because he can wear the Spider-Man costume under this combination without anyone being aware. (They put him in short sleeves too much today!)

He's had some outfits though. Some looks. Some better than others.

(ASM #311) "Le Derriere jeans." Let's be fair he's not even trying with this one. At least MJ's pink cowboy getup is cute but he's not even attempting to wear that hat. It's wearing him.

(ASM #299) Bless him he's trying. Barely and badly, but trying. Note to myself that I need to do a McFarlane reread at some point. It's not my favorite period of canon, as evidenced by the fact that this wasn't in my refs and I had to go looking for it.

(ASM #330) I love his stupid anti-Batman tank top. It takes a certain kind of man to be petty across publishing houses.

Thou who doth not make mention of three things -- namely, the red briefs, the Bathrobe Collection, and the animal crop top -- hath not done their duty to Spider-Man fandom. Seriously, why does he own so many of bathrobes. (ASM #299 and Web of Spider-Man #18)

(ASM #249) Imagine you just found out your father murdered one of your best friends in the whole world and one of your other best friends in the whole world shows up to your pool party wearing this.

(ASM #506) But yeah I would say, day to day, he wears a lot of button ups with ties and black turtlenecks. Again, stuff he can hide the costume under. He wore a lot of suits and ties when he was teaching.

In terms of costumes, I really like the black cloth Spider-Man suit, but it's not exactly unusual. I'm pretty conservative with Spider-Man suits, but I do like the Last Stand suit. I feel there's good narrative weight to that one.

(ASM #637) Not in its original context, but a good look at it all the same. Interesting that in Madame Web's vision of what would happen if Peter killed Kraven, he switches to the Last Stand suit. Something worth thinking about potentially. I do wish I liked his Future Foundation suit more than I actually do, but I only really like the black version. The plain white is just kind of boring to me.

Okay, Johnny, though -- Johnny Storm has never met a pattern he wouldn't violently clash up against another pattern. Johnny dresses like a whole circus. Johnny goes to Paris Fashion Week, buys everything, and still ends up on the worst dressed list. Johnny Storm's fashion choices are breathtaking.

(FF #164) "And I don't have to stop for red lights." Okay. Let's take it from the top here. The red ascot, the violently patterned shirt and pants, the fringed jacket with his initials on it. The multiple rings. When I say this outfit has it all I mean it has the whole store.

And do not forget his perfectly coiffed hair, a thing that he woke up with and required no styling whatsoever. ("I've got to do SOMETHING about my hair!" - Fantastic Four #138.)

(FF #191) I actually like this one, I think the maroon suit is cute.

(FF #296) I love his little red scarf and Four jacket. Guest appearance by Alicia/Lyja (this was written pre-retcon but we also have to apply the retcon to past appearances, you know how it is) who is definitely speaking like a human and not a space alien who has gone wildly off script.

(FF #309) Obsessed with this entire scene. "Oh, I'm going to fly down with my brand new wife to Fire Island, a famously gay vacation spot, while wearing my little ankle jeans and nautical striped tank top. Maybe we'll hold hands." Unbelievable.

He also tends to wear a lot of Four-branded and flame print stuff, in general, which is cute. The famous flame print swim trunks, etc.

(Fantastic Four v5 #14) You have to love his Depression Howard the Duck shirt. Context: Peter and Wyatt kidnapped him for his own good.

(Uncanny Avengers #8) I think about his wolf howling at the moon shirt and tiny orange shorts combo from this comic roughly five times a week.

For uniforms that are less common, I really like his gold and black suit, his 2n1 suit, and the black short sleeve variant of his suit from Claremont's run.

(Marvel Two-in-One (2018) #4) I loved this jacket. I wish they'd sold a version of it, I would have bought it.

(Moon Girl #25) Don't trauma dump on the child, Johnny.

(FF v3 #27) This one isn't anything particularly special or anything, I just think it's fun, and I like the boots. They desperately need to take things a step further and let him do his own version of one of Sue's opera glove costumes.

Also please look at this dumb little outfit he made himself when he was sixteen and being manipulated into breaking away from the Fantastic Four.

(Strange Tales #106) This is iconic to me anyway.

And then okay. Yeah. There's the Bad! Real Bad! shirt.

(Daredevil #261) Someone help him.

[marcelloshdz]

saturday night surprise

summary: after a long week of hardly getting to see each other, you surprise marcello at snl. requested by anonymous.

coming home to an empty house, particularly after a rough day, was always the worst ending. and it was your least favorite part about being in a relationship with someone who’s work schedule was so different than yours. 

this week was an exceptionally busy week for marcello. starting the previous sunday, leading into an off week from snl, he had a few stand up shows in new york and surrounding areas. he was gone for a couple of days, then was back in the city for other promotional stuff; guest spots on a few talk shows, filming commercials, and other things. by the time that was all said and done, it was monday again, and he was getting ready to go back to 30 rock to start working on the next snl episode back. 

it was hard finding time to spend with each other, because you were busy with work too. granted your job didn’t take you all over the place, you still had long work days, that sometimes lasted you anywhere from 10 to 12 hours. most nights, you just wanted to come home to your boyfriend and lounge on the couch with junk food and tv shows. but with his increasing popularity, he was spread thin. 

“how was your day?” marcello asked to you over facetime. he was taking a break between sketch rehearsals to eat and to take some time to talk with you.

“okay. work was busy, so it went by pretty fast. i’m just exhausted.” you let out a loud sigh. “i just wish you were here so we could spend the night together. you know i always sleep better when you’re with me.”

“i know, baby. i’m sorry. i wish i was home too, but there have been a ton of rewrites and rehearsals have been taking extra long this week. at least tomorrow is show day, and ill be back with you on sunday. i still hate that you’re gonna miss the show.” he pouted. 

“me too. i just have a lot of work i have to finished before monday.” you sighed. “but sunday, we’re both free, and will have a true day of rest.”

“finally. i’ve missed you.” he sighed. 

“i’ve missed you too.” you and marcello talked for a little while longer before he had to get back to rehearsal. you shared your good nights and i love yous, and hung up. you finished your dinner before moving to your bed. 

the next night was saturday, and you and marcello had the briefest of exchanges before you went your separate ways for the day. you had some errands to tend to, and you knew he’d be gone to work by the time you were finished. upon your return home, you got started on the projects and paperwork you needed to finish for your job, returned some emails and sat through a couple meetings. as you were wrapping up, you checked the time and saw that it was getting close to 11:30. 

deciding you didn’t want to sit home alone all night, you got ready and headed out to 30 rock. you arrived at the nbc studios, and went in. luckily, you were on marcello’s guest list, and they let you in and led you upstairs. you successfully evaded other snl cast members, writers, and producers, and followed the motion into the audience before the show started.

you took your seat on the lower level, at the end of the row. the crew was bustling around as they were getting ready for the show to start. the stage was finally set for the cold open, and the show began. 

the first couple of sketches went by, and you’d been laughing the whole time. as the show went on, the sets changed, and the casts changed in and out of costumes, you’d successfully made it through half the show without being noticed. 

you watched as marcello took the stage, getting ready for the next sketch. he was standing with a couple other cast members when he turned in your direction. you watched as his eyes scanned the crowd, finally landing on you. you watched as the widest smile spread across his face, and the lightest tinge of pink flushed to his cheeks. he shot you a wink before the show came back from commercial. 

you laughed throughout the entire sketch, and marcello kept shooting glances in your direction just to make sure you were enjoying it. once it ended, marcello walked off the stage, into the crowd, and took your hand in his, pulling you up from your chair. he led you through winding hallways before returning back to quick change area.

once you were well hidden away from the cast and crew, marcello took your face in his hands and pressed a hard kiss to your lips. 

“what are you doing here?! i thought you couldn’t get away from work?” he asked, out of breath when he separated his lips from yours. 

“i finished early, and i missed you too much to spend another night without you.” you said, kissing him again. 

“i’m so happy you’re here.” he said softly, smiling at you.

“me too.”

marcello wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you back to his dressing room. the show was almost over, and he wasn’t in the last sketch, you the two of you hung out and watched the end of the episode until he had to be back onstage for goodnights. afterwards, once it was time to leave, the two of you headed home, blissfully anticipating finally getting to spend the night together. once you got back home, you both began to wind down and get ready for bed.

you were laying down in bed, watching marcello move around the room until he finally joined you under the covers. he quickly came to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and peppering your skin with kisses, starting on your arm, trailing up to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, then finally meeting your lips.

“i love you.” he said softly, resting his forehead.

“i love you.” you repeated. you shared another kiss before finally turning the lights out and going to bed. the two of you slept better than you had in weeks, knowing that you didn’t have to get up the next morning, and could finally just be with each other.

[cloudcountry]

Hiiii hello it's meee! Aa okay I feel kinda nervous this is my first time EVER requesting (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) but since your requests were open now's my chance (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) I hope you're doing fine! Ep 17 made me think of.. marriage. MARRIAGE WITH RUI PLEASE I NEED MORE RUI CONTENT. What kind of husband would he be? I saw it on your masterlist that you wrote marriage headcannons for some ghouls, If I can I'd like to request something like that! Also maybe.. Towa? I was brutally rejected by his wedding card before and my heart still aches (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

Anyways I hope this is how you do this and writing this actually took me so long it's almost embarrassing (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) I love seeing your posts randomly pop up when I'm scrolling I love your energy!! Have a good day! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

SUMMARY: wedding headcanons with towa and rui!!

COMMENTS: AAAA I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN I SAW YOU IN MY INBOX!!! HI!!!! <333 i hope this makes u happy after you have written so much for me T0T thank you so much <3

If it was up to Towa, he would have proposed to you the week you met. He knew already that you were his soulmate, his one true love, and he wasn’t about to let you run away! However, a hasty proposal is hardly romantic. He needs the buildup.

Your anniversary is when he proposes. He takes you on a picnic in the middle of a flower meadow. Away from prying eyes, he holds you close as you fly up into the air, only coming down when he can’t contain himself anymore. He pops the question, and knows you will say yes.

You will have to take care of most of the wedding stuff. Towa wants to help, he genuinely does! But if you let him, it’ll be a huge bill to pay, and you’ll be stuck with a bunch of nonsensical things that he picked because he thought it would look good. Spoilers: it would not. :(

The guest list would be relatively small, unless you add to it. Towa is only inviting Haru. If you invite Ren, he’ll be pouty about it, but marriage is all about compromise. Just so long as Wolfsbane stays away from you. He won’t have anyone ruining your special day.

After the two of you have been married, you should allocate at least ten minutes of your morning for cuddle time. Towa wishes you could have more, but the two of you do need to work...there should be a job for cuddling with Dandelion >:T

It’s entirely up to you whether you divulge your work frustrations with Towa. Knowing how he is, there’s no guarantee he won’t walk into your work himself and threaten whoever made his Dandelion sad!

Rui crafts up a delicious breakfast in bed for you! He waits until you’re just waking up to slide into your shared bedroom and present it to you. Of course, the first thing you notice is the ring on top of your favorite breakfast sandwich!

Rui strikes me as the type who would want to be more domestic with you before proposing. He pulls out all the stops, makes sure you won’t get sick of him or the way he lives—tell him that’s impossible! He’s one of the most responsible men at Darkwick!

This man. He insists you sit back and relax. The only time you will lift a finger during wedding planning is if you plead with him to let you do so, or he’s asking for your opinion! (He does that often, do not worry ^_^)

Rui’s guest list would be HUGE. He invites people you haven’t heard of ever and treats them like they’re old friends. You’re marrying a man who has met a lot of people and connected with a myriad of interesting characters. It’ll be a fun day, that’s for sure!

After you’re married, not much changes! Which was the goal Rui had in mind the entire time, if he’s honest with himself. He’ll still look down at the ring and smile, happy that you’ve agreed to be his and his alone. Rui has always been yours. <3

I know having someone as dependable as Rui is nice to have around, but be careful not to take advantage of it! Do the dishes when he cooks, fold the laundry while he washes the windows. He may try to convince you to stop out of habit, but marriage is a team effort. He can’t do everything alone!

[sthilarions]

Okay I’m never gonna write the fic that is written in my ideas file as “save a horse ride a cowboy/he thinks my tractor’s sexy”

I’m never gonna write it so it’s irrelevant that Edwin grows heritage crops and is at the cutting edge of small-scale organic farming techniques, he’s listed as a co-author on a dozen different papers, which he worked on while sitting perched in the raised bucket attachment of the aforementioned tractor

it’s not relevant that Charles kept coming by on his horse and interrupting him, standing up on the saddle to get his head roughly level with Edwin’s to ask him about what he was doing (and not at all to impress him obviously of course)

no reason to mention that Charles ended up as a co-author on a paper, the BA standing out in the list

or that Charles’s horse has gotten very used to being ground-tied next to Edwin’s tractor so his rider can hop up on the bucket next to some weird human

or that the next paper they co-author, Charles’s name has an MS, which didn’t even take him longer than two years to get even though he was doing it long-distance, which he says is because he had a lot of free time to work on stuff while out sitting by bob-wahr fences under beating sun making his eyes dance, and curled up in the back of his F-150 under the stars. it was probably easier for him than most people, he says, if asked, with a loose grin

And it definitely doesn’t matter that the next paper after that, he and Edwin have the same last name.

(The cowboy church* that Charles went to for social reasons refused to let them marry there, which they’d expected but Charles felt it was the right thing to do to ask anyway, but that was alright, because the pastor, Charlie, went rogue and agreed to officiate for them outside of the church, so they got married out on Edwin’s back 40, the ranch dogs and farm cats running around under the feet of the half dozen guests, the other weirdos in the area, and the fiddler played til dawn)

*Cowboy churches are a real thing, this is not a joke.

Another bit of relevant cultural context is that none of the cowboys I grew up with had four year degrees. That Charles starts out with a BA means that while he’s under-credentialed for an academic setting, he’s simultaneously already over-educated for his own cultural context, and probably spends a lot of time getting mockingly called “professor” by his ‘friends’ and remembering not to use overly fancy words and so forth.

Also he probably tries to avoid Zoom calls because having a noticeably rural accent around academics is Fraught, he checks his emails twice to make sure he hasn’t typed ‘y’all’

I am not writing this and I therefore do not know that Charles’s MS is from A&M, which is both the best university for his field and so virulently homophobic that I have a lot of acquaintances who had to drop out from there specifically because of that, and that the co-authored papers were on the topic of using animals for sustainable agriculture, like using Lacewings to manage aphids, and goats to manage invasive flora; Charles's knowledge of animal husbandry and Edwin's knowledge of sustainable agriculture meeting in the middle

If I were actually writing this as a fic, I’d mention things like the instability and draconian download caps of HughesNet that mean if Charles needs to download a big file like a recorded lecture he has to set an alarm for 3AM to download it during the unthrottled grace hour; the laptop running out of charge out in that truck bed, Charles using money he doesn’t have to buy a converter so he can charge it off the F-150

how he was doing homework under the stars not because it’s romantic but because if he gets out of the cab and parks on top of the tallest hill he might be able to get line of sight to a tower and hotspot off his phone (and worry about the bill later); about how he can only work for brief periods at a time during the day because the sun will make his laptop overheat, how he keeps an ice chest full of Nordic Ice in the back seat of the truck not just for water but so he can pop his laptop in there to cool it down; how he overclocks that shitty laptop making it run data analysis in R; how he rations his gas so he can turn on the AC once in a while and charge his laptop and still be able to drive home.

How Charles and Edwin started carpooling for the hour-long drive each way to the grocery store for the monthly stock of jugs of bottled water, that they need because the leaky water pipes they and their neighbors maintain themselves (because no government or corporate guy is gonna come out there) run under cow pastures and pesticide-laced fields and septic tanks and the tap water isn't safe even boiled, and they use the couple of hours in the truck to bounce ideas off each other, a laptop balanced on the truck's center console, pausing only to touch their hats when they pass another truck.

…but I’m not writing it, so.

[b3ach-bunn7]

27 DRESSES (3/6)

You try not to lose your mind while planning your sisters wedding to the man you're in love with. All the while, a certain blonde haired reporter can’t seem to leave you alone

noquirk!au, movie turned fanfic

—————————————————————————

The articles you’re supposed to be reading and approving in front of you lay useless as you lean your head back on the couch. The glass of wine you’ve been nursing (and topping up) for the past hour is warming in your hand, and you wonder if you should just call it a night and go to bed. 

You’ve haven’t been very productive at work the past few days, too busy with preparations to have time to finish the things you need to do. There’s two weeks to go, so it feels like any spare moment you have is used on finalising flowers or making a guest list and seating arrangement. 

You guess it’s pretty helpful that your boss is also the groom of the wedding, otherwise you’re sure you’d be fired by now. He tells you not to worry too much, but you feel too guilty not to do the stuff you’re meant to. You thought tonight would be the best night for it, but you’re head hurts whenever you read even just a sentence. 

Then a knock sounds at your door, and it’s the welcome distraction you’ve been waiting for. Your brows furrow a little, confused at the intrusion on your unproductive night. You know it’s not Tess or Togata. They’d gone out for dinner so today was one of the evenings you didn’t have to be a victim to their very public PDA.

You get up quickly, placing your glass on wine on the table. Fingers fumble quickly with your door lock. It occurs to you that you should’ve checked who was there before you opened it, because when you do, it’s Keigo waiting for you behind it. Your face falls and he pouts.

“Aw, come on. Aren’t you even slightly happy to see me?”

You sigh. “Tess is not here.”

“I’m not here for Tess. I’m here to see you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” 

He holds up his hands. In one of them is a notepad and pen. “Y/N. Come on, I need to talk to all the family and friends.” He shakes the notepad in the air. “For the article?”

You stay silent, pondering him at your door. 

“It’ll only take five minutes.”

He’s got very long lashes, you find out, especially when he blinks them up at you in a way that you think is supposed to be convincing.

“For Tess and Togata?” 

A beat. Then the door swings open fully, and you’re letting him in. 

You’re only wearing your work clothes, a skirt and a white shirt up you’ve unbuttoned at the top. Your heels and tights are abandoned on the floor and you shove them out the way so he can sit down. You pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart around, and also the way the shirt he’s wearing hugs his biceps.

He glances at the pictures you have hung up on the wall. “Nice place.” 

“Just ask me what you want to ask me.” You sit down on your couch. “Or would you like to lie to me some more?” You can’t help but add on.

He makes a face. “I didn’t lie. I don’t know why you keep saying that. I may have left out a couple things, but-“

You’re well aware that you’re pouting when you wave him off. “Can we just get this over with?”

He clicks his pen and jots something down. “Maid of honour is a peculiar young woman.”

You roll your eyes, but you smile slightly despite yourself. Keigo sits on the opposite end of the couch, and claps his hands together.

“So. How do you feel about Tess’s whirlwind romance?”

You huff a laugh, taking a sip of your wine. “I couldn’t be happier. She’s my little sister, I mean, I taught her how to tie her laces, how to ride a bike. I practically raised her.”

You suddenly think of your father, the long shifts he worked to make sure you and Tess had everything you wanted. It wasn’t easy for anyone after your mother passed. You shake your head quickly.

“Wait, scratch that last part. Don’t add it in. It’ll kill my dad if he hears it.” 

Keigo’s eyes dart across your face, and you feel watched under his gaze. But he nods, and crosses it off without another word. 

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He says.

And then he looks to his left. And fuck.

Your closet is open. Well, it’s not a closet, because it doesn’t necessarily have clothes in it. Not ones you wear, anyway. What it does have inside is all twenty seven bridesmaid dresses of every wedding you’ve ever been to. Stuffed in a cupboard you could probably be using for something smarter, but you’re nothing if not sentimental. And you know Keigo is going to have a field day poking fun at you for this.

“What is that?”

Your face flushes. “Nothing.”

Keigo grins, and it’s laced with something mischievous. “Are those bridesmaid dresses?”

He shoots up out of his seat despite your protests. He’s closer than you and more agile as he swerves out of the way of your hand trying to grab him. Keigo pulls the door open, and you fall back, accepting defeat as the petticoats and silk overflow in front of you two.

“Good god, Y/N.” 

You laugh slightly, trying to shut the door. He pushes your hands away lightly and you don’t try to fight back. It’s weird how easily he’s able to push past your bad mood, lighten the weight that’s been bearing down on you all day. He’s funny. You’ll give him that much.

“You keep them all?” He marvels, fingers brushing against the materials lightly. 

“Yes!” You stammer. “It’s- I have a lot of friends, and I’ve been to a lot of weddings. And I like to keep them.” You mumble.

Keigo scoffs. “Oh, that makes complete sense. They’re not even nice!”

“Hey! Some of these are not that bad.”

“I’d like to see one that doesn’t look that bad.” 

You push him away by the arm. He’s quite muscular, you find, but he moves away easily. You tug your skirt down and dig through the cupboard, but unfortunately for you, there actually aren't many that aren’t that bad. You pull one out and eye it suspiciously.

“There’s.. this one?” You say it like it’s a question more than a statement and Keigo shakes his head. “It’s-“

“Oh, honey, I think horrible is the word you’re looking for.”

You let the pet name slip over you, and you nudge him. “No, it’s. I mean.” You're at a loss for words. 

“It’s horrible. Is this, what, vomit green?” Keigo’s hands smooth over the material.

“No, it’s meant to be olive, I think. It’s very in.” You assure him.

“This is an instrument of torture.”

You laugh. “It’s fashion! And it looks much better on than just in the hand.” 

Keigo hums. “I have to disagree. I think this was a dress given to you by a bride who wanted you to look ugly.” 

Your mouth gapes a little, feeling slightly defensive. She is your friend, after all, despite her horrible taste.  “No, Jenna knew we’d all look good.”

Keigo shakes his head, disappointed. He clicks his pen once more and scribble in his notepad. “Slightly delusional and will believe anything told to her.”

“Look, I’ll show you.” You speak through a laugh, snatching the dress from his hands.

You take the dress into the kitchen, and quickly take off your clothes. It doesn’t take long to slip it on, what with the easy zip in the side. It’s long and green and silky, and the longer you look in the mirror the more it looks vomit coloured. When you step out Keigo whistles, and you grin, spinning around. 

“See?” You twirl the sash that hangs off the side of your waist. “It’s not so bad.”

There’s a sudden flash, and when you look up, you find Keigo has taken a picture on a little camera he had in his pocket. 

“Paparazzi a part of your job?”

“It’s for my articles. Usually I’m taking pictures of the bride, but I’ll make an expection for you.”

You shuffle over to look at it and he hums.

“You’re right. It isn’t that bad. But the colour?”

You lean over his shoulder. You look cute, but the colour definitely doesn’t.

“I think your flash, it’s blowing me out weird.”

He raises a brow. You look again and scrunch your nose. “Fine. Okay, fine the colour is bad.”

“You kind of look like a shiny mermaid.”

You shoot him a look but he shrugs. “You should be flattered. I mean, she didn’t want you to be standing next to her on that altar being the tall, beautiful woman you are. She had to do something about it.”

Colour dusts your cheeks. You smooth out the material of the dress, smiling slightly. “Yeah, well. It’s not the worst.”

You look back at the closet. You smile cheekily and rush over to it. “This is my favourite.”

It had been a theme wedding, you explain, as you pull out the dress. It’s large and poofy and bright yellow, with red flowers sewn onto the edges. His jaw drops and you giggle.

“What the hell was the theme? Humiliation?”

You dip into the kitchen to put it on. This one takes longer. Its layers of material that you can barely walk in, but you kinda like it. You even grab the decorative umbrella it came with, opening it and grinning widely. Keigo’s camera clicks as he takes another picture.

He laughs, turning the camera to you. “God, this is awful. Come on, what else have you got?”

You spend the next hour cycling through all the dresses you’ve worn through the years. You particularly like the more extravagant ones. The kimono with purple and white lace, that one wedding where you’d worn a suit instead of a dress. Keigo in particular likes your LA wedding dress. You’re sure it has nothing to do with the fact it cuts off at your upper thigh and shows way too much cleavage.

It’s fun, though. Really fun. If not for the posing and the collection of pictures Keigo is getting, but for the fact you haven’t seen half of these dresses in years. All it does is solidify your love for the whole thing, the dolling up and standing next to the beautiful. No matter how stupid they made you look. 

Dress number 27 is one of the prettier ones. Red and soft, flowing material that drapes over your legs. Dressing up is much more tiring than you think. You’re kitchen is covered in clothes, hung up awkwardly and strewn across chairs. You’re sitting on your couch now, feet propped onto your coffee table. Keigo sits beside you, just far enough away that you want to move a little closer.

He’s sighing in disbelief, flicking through all the pictures he’d taken. “Twenty seven. Twenty seven dresses.”

He looks up at you. “I mean, go to the wedding and throw the dress out! It’s New York, for gods sake. You’re eating up a lot of space.” He points to your closet.

You lean your head back on the couch. “As weird as it sounds, I’ve had some really good times in those dresses.”

“I don’t buy it.”

You roll your eyes. “Ever the pessimist. I don’t care if they want me to look stupid, or wear dresses that look like Halloween costumes. It’s their day.”

“A living-day saint, ladies and gentlemen..”

“And if that means that I need to learn how to scuba dive or caulk a fountain for some swans-“

“You did that?”

It had been an eventful day. The handyman that had helped you out was nice. Still on speed dial for whenever your sink acts up.

Nodding, you take another sip of wine. “Yeah, I’m a very good caulker.”

“Likes caulk. Great to know.” 

You smack his shoulder, and Keigo apologises quickly. He inches a little closer, and the pretty curls of his blonde hair bounce as he moves.

“But seriously. How much time do you spend on these people?”

Your fingers trail the rim of your glass. It’s a valid question. One Rumi poses to you so many times. But it’s in your nature to help people. You need to feel needed, love that gratitude and affection people give you when you do a job right, do a job good. 

“Don’t you have needs?”

God, he’s a flirt. It’s subtle, but you can hear it in the soft lilt of his voice. You brush a hair behind your ear for something to do. “I don’t have needs. I’m Jesus.”

He huffs a laugh. “Be serious, Miss Bridesmaid.”

You rub at your eyes. “Someday. God knows when, but someday it’ll be my turn, and they’ll all be there for me.” You say determinedly.

And you believe it. You really do, because they’re your friends. Like you were there for them you know they’ll be there for you.

“I mean, that is if I ever-“

You catch the disbelief written clear as day on Keigo’s face. He’s looking at you like you’re a little crazy and a little stupid, so you shut your mouth mid sentence. 

“Nevermind. You don’t get it.”

You get up. 

“It’s fine. Why would you?”

-

You find yourself spending an awful lot of time with Keigo.

You find he’s a nice person to have alongside you while you fulfill your wedding duties, always ready with a joke or something to laugh about, that it makes everything ten times more fun. He also asks Tess where you’re going to be so there’s no avoiding him even if you wanted to. He keeps telling you it’s because of the article (that you’re sure he’s finished by now) and you can’t be bothered to argue. 

“Alright, you wait down here.” You pass Keigo your cup of coffee and your planner. “I need to go grab the registry list off Tess.”

Keigo nods, half a bagel in his mouth. “Hurry up, this cup is hot.”

Tess had moved into Togata’s apartment last week. You liked the freedom and the lack of nearly walking into them having sex, but you miss having her around. It reminded you oddly of childhood, staying up late talking and arguing over who’s doing the washing.

You knock on the door. You can hear the faint sound of singing, so you knock louder. When Tess opens the door she hides behind it, only creaking it enough for you to see her face. 

“Hi! Y/N! Aren’t you early?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks.

You eye her suspiciously. She seems nervous. “Yeah.” 

You can still hear the singing and you try to glance around her shoulder. They sound oddly male. “Hey, who’s in there? Isn’t George away for work?”

Tess laughs nervously. “Nobody, it’s no one.”

“Tess-“

“Let’s talk in the hall.”

You think he’s trying to push you out but you’re stronger than her. So you easily push past her despite her attempts to stop you, which is where you get a full view of Midoriya singing horribly as he hoovers her carpet.

Your mouth drops open. “Tess!”

“He wanted a part time job, okay! It’s- He’s just cleaning the apartment.” She whines.

Midoriya bounds over when he sees you, tackling you in a hug. “Aw, hey Y/N.” He grins.

“Hey, kid.” 

You give Tess as cold of a glare as you can imagine over Midoriya’s green curls. You can’t believe she’s hiring Midoriya of all people. The poor kid is too nice to say no. And you knew Togata would hate this. 

You’re pissed. This, and the lying and fake veganism and the hiking. It’s wrong. Togata doesn’t even know who he’s marrying. It’s not fair on him, and it’s not fair on you for planning a wedding for what you believe are two strangers.

“It’s our little secret, so don’t tell Togata. Right, Midoriya?”

He nods, and you decide you’ll deal with this later. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this. Can I just have the registry sheet please?”

You recount Tess’ child labour to Keigo as the two of you walk to the rest of the shops you have to go to today. One of your favourite parts of the weddings is completing the registry. You have this nifty device that lets you scan all the stuff she wants which you’ll inevitably send to all the guests. And it being Tess, you have about a million things to put on there.

Keigo doesn’t like this part. He has a snide comment for almost everything you scan.

“If you hate it so much, you can go.” You say, shining the scanner in his eyes.

He bats you away. “No, I have to see every aspect of Tess’ wedding.”

It’s a thinly veiled excuse for the fact he just wants to hang out with you, you think. But you don’t say anything, just keep wandering around for presents.

Keigo tuts. “You realise your sister wants so many presents she physically can't register them all herself.” He points an accusing finger at you. “That’s why you’re here.”

“She’s pressed for time. It’s kind of a short engagement.” 

Keigo sits down on the couch in front of you two. This shop is weird. An amalgamation of decor and furniture and cutlery. You pick up another dish, this one brown and blue and heavy, and scan it.

“Another dish? Really?”

You smile a little, putting it back. “To you, it’s just a dish. To Tess, this is what she’ll use to make a roast for Christmas.”

Keigo fixes you with a look. “Tess cooks?”

“Well. I’ll be cooking, but she’ll be there.”

You grab a vase that looks like it’s been painted with watercolour. “And this isn’t just a vase.”

“Why’d you say it like that? Vase.”

“This is a vase that Tess will get out when George buys her flowers just because he wants to.” 

You feel a little warm at the thought. Married life always appealed to you, that thought that a person was always yours, for the rest of your lives. 

Keigo nods slowly, clearly not on the same wavelength as you. He picks up an exceptionally ugly ornament you can’t even name.

“And I suppose this rooster shaped umbrella holder is for all of George’s umbrella.”

You laugh sarcastically. “Fine. Be a jerk. But this...”

You gesture all around you. “This isn’t just stuff, Keigo, it’s things that make up someone’s life.”

Keigo tilts his head. “I like how you say that. Keigo.”

“Shut up, I’m being serious.” You scoff, face heating. 

He shrugs. “I can’t agree. This stuff, it’s just useless crap society has convinced us we have to have to be happy.”

He sounds so convinced of himself, that you have to pause for a second. You eye him, hand on your hip, studying him for a moment. He doesn’t shift under your gaze, just staring back.

“You know what I think?”

“What do you think, honey?” 

“I think you hide. Under all your cynicism and theories and shit, it’s just a smoke screen.”

Keigo laugh. “A smokescreen for what?”

You shrug. You pick up the next item, a throw pillow that’s white and fuzzy. “Parents got divorced. You haven’t found the right girl, you think you never will.”

“And I think you’re so focused on everyone else’s weddings and memories than make your own.”

“And you’re right. Know why?” You sing. “Because weddings are the perfect place to forget about being single.” 

The registry is long. Tess is never selfless when it comes to the things she wants.

Keigo speaks with the air of someone who thinks they are completely right. So, every man ever. “I think you want a wedding. Not a marriage.”

You’re annoyed. Annoyed at him, because he is so set in his stupid ways and his stupid beliefs about love. It’s sad, you think. Sad he doesn’t think he can get it, but it’s also annoying how he talks to you like you’re convinced in something as crazy as aliens existence, and not just marriage.

“What is your problem? Did you have your own fancy wedding and your wife left you, or something?” You snap.

“Bingo.”

You almost drop the throw blanket in your hands. You turn to Keigo, but he doesn’t look mad at your words. Just a slight bit of what you think might be nostalgia and something worse. 

You bite your bottom lip. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“She was also my college roommate, so I think you get an extra point.” He adds.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand coming up and covering your face. “Shit. I’m sorry, I- It was just a guess.”

Keigo smiles warmly. “A good one. For someone with no insight into herself you nailed me right on the head.”

You let him get away with that comment because you’re sure you unearthed some deep rooted things for him. A silence settles over the room and  you don’t know if it’s awkward. Before it can become one, you wave the registry scanner at him.

“Wanna register a bunch of really ugly stuff for Tess?”

“Hell yeah.”

You do so for the next ten minutes, until Keigo gets a call. He rolls his eyes, pulling his phone out his pocket.

“It’s work. Give me five, honey.” 

He calls you honey a lot. You like it, but you tell him to stop doing it nonetheless. You wait for him by the carpets and rub your hands through the soft  material. You try not to eavesdrop, but you’re only human. You catch a few short words from him from where you’re standing. 

“Just- I think we should hold it for the moment. Maybe until next week.” He sounds sort of annoyed and still respectful, but you suppose that’s how anyone has to deal with their boss.

“I just don’t think it’s what I thought it was. There’s more to the story.”

Is he talking about Tess’s article? Something else for the commitments column?

She says something else and he makes a face. “Very funny. Just please. One more week?”

You think he gets that week, because he grins. “Thank you! I won’t let you down.”

You quickly turn away when he hangs up. He comes up next to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

—————————————————————————

I did nottt think id get a chapter out this fast but.. this fic is so fun to write!!! I loveeee this movie and so I lovvvvve writing it. And keigo is so fun to write cause he’s so beautiful

hope u all enjoy this one!!

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Kalim Al-Asim - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Master Chef ― Kalim Version ～Let’s Make a Spice-laden Biryani 1～

―A short time before cooking starts

Kalim: Chef! Thanks for looking after me today!

Trey: Oh, Kalim, you seem to be in high spirits.

Ghost Chef: That's very true. Were you perhaps looking forward to Master Chef classes?

Kalim: Yeah! Up 'til now, I've always been told to stay away from knives and fire 'cause they're so dangerous.

Kalim: So, I haven't done much cooking before. But today, I got the OK, because there'd be a pro coaching me through it!

Kalim: That's why I'm getting super excited thinking about how I'll finally be able to tackle some real dishes!

Ghost Chef: S-So, you're normally not allowed to use knives or fire? Sounds like you've been brought up in a rather overprotective home.

Ghost Chef: Well, anyway, I'm glad you're excited for this class! I'll also put my all into teaching you.

Ghost Chef: To begin with, I'll explain the dish you'll be making today.

Kalim: I'm gonna make a biryani, right?

Ghost Chef: That's right. Biryani is a rice dish that is cooked with meat and flavored with a variety of spices.

Ghost Chef: Curry and rice are layered on top of each other, and steamed to perfection.

Ghost Chef: It originated as a party dish in higher circles, and is now often eaten during festivals～

Kalim: Sounds great! It's a perfect dish to serve a large gathering.

Trey: Hey, Kalim. There's something I want to ask you…

Trey: You're usually the host of your little shindigs, right? You don't do any of the prep work, normally.

Trey: If that's the case, I feel like you don't really need to learn how to cool…

Kalim: That's true, usually Jamil does everything, so there's really nothing for me to do.

Kalim: But just the other day, I learned that there's a type of feast where the host cooks and serves all the dishes.

Kalim: I think I'd really like to roast and carve up a hunk of meat for everyone!

Trey: I see. So that's why you decided to take the Master Chef course.

Kalim: Yep. I want to learn a bunch of different ways to host and keep my guests happy.

Kalim: Oh yeah, you usually make the sweets for the Heartslabyul tea parties, right?

Kalim: I bet you're great at hosting people, so let me know if you have any secret tips.

Trey: I don't think you'll get much use out of our Unbirthday parties.

Trey: Think of it like a family gathering. It's very different from the type of grand parties you throw with a guest list.

Trey: But let me think… If I could think of one thing, I guess…

Trey: I'd say I usually try not to make any sweets that some folks might end up disliking?

Kalim: Oh, cool! You think about that stuff too?

Kalim: I've always wanted to feed people the stuff that I think taste good…

Kalim: But I get it, there are people who might not like stuff with specific herbs and flavors.

Kalim: Next time I throw a feast, I'll think up a menu that everyone'll love, instead of just picking the fanciest dishes.

Kalim: 'Cause I wanna make sure everyone's enjoying themselves, if I can!

Ghost Chef: Good, good, your guests are the most important thing to think about when hosting, after all.

Ghost Chef: I myself stand in the kitchen every single day just to see those smiling faces of yours.

Ghost Chef: ―Now then, enough chit-chat. Let's get cooking!

[Kitchen]

Ghost Chef: Kalim-kun, we have enough ingredients to make about 3 batches worth. Even if you make a mistake, don't worry too much.

Ghost Chef: Relax, and just enjoy cooking.

Kalim: I got it. Alright, I'm gonna do my best!

Ghost Chef: We'll start with chopping the ingredients. I'll have you cut the ginger, garlic, onions, and tomatoes.

Ghost Chef: First, the tomatoes.

Ghost Chef: Place it stem side down on the cutting board. That'll make it easier to slice.

Kalim: Stem side down… Is this right?

Ghost Chef: Yep! Next, hold the knife in your dominant hand. You'll use your other hand to hold the tomato so it doesn't move on the cutting board.

Ghost Chef: The knife will cut whether you pull it towards you, or push it forward.

Ghost Chef: Instead of putting strength into it, try to move the knife in exaggerated motions.

Kalim: Exaggerated motions…

Kalim: Woah, I cut the tomato in half!

Ghost Chef: Good job, you're doing great～! Keep on cutting just like that.

Ghost Chef: All right, you've finished cutting everything. Then, next up is…

Kalim: Hm? Hey, Chef. There's a bunch of ingredients on the table that we didn't cut up. Are we not using these?

Ghost Chef: Those are the extra ingredients I prepared in case there were any slip ups. You can add any of that extra if you'd like.

Kalim: Really? Then, I'll use everything that's left!

Ghost Chef: Eh, all of it!? That means you'll be using three times the amount of ingredients listed on the recipe.

Ghost Chef: The cooking process will be even more difficult with the added ingredients… Are you sure?

Kalim: Yeah. I feel like the more stuff we add to it, the fuller the guests will be.

Kalim: Oookay, I'm gonna cut up all the extra stuff now!

Ghost Chef: You've finally finished chopping up the additional ingredients. The next step will be to make the key source of the biryani's flavor… The curry!

Ghost Chef: First, we'll heat up some oil in a pan and stir up some green cardamom, cloves, and cinnamon.

Kalim: Got it. …Oh, yeah! Since we increased the ingredients, we should add more spices, too, right?

Ghost Chef: You're right. Since you added three times the number of ingredients, you should add about 3 shakes of each spice…

Kalim: Okay! I'll throw in all the spices!

Ghost Chef: Huh?

[dump spices]

Ghost Chef: (H-H-HE PUT EVERYTHING IN～～～!)

Kalim: Ahahah! With all these ingredients and spices, this'll totally turn out great!

Kalim: Come on, let's keep on cooking!

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Master Chef ― Kalim Version ～Let’s Make a Spice-laden Biryani 2～

Ruggie: Hum de duuum…♪

Ruggie: Ahh～ What luck to get picked as a Master Chef judge, saves me from buyin' food today.

Ruggie: Man, I can't wait. There's somethin' smellin' real good waftin' in from the kitchens...

Ruggie: URGH!!!!

Ruggie: Wh-What's with this overwhelmin' aroma…? Is it spices!? What's goin' on in that kitchen!?

Kalim: Oh, hey, Ruggie! You're my judge, huh.

Kalim: Good timing! I just finished up the biryani you're gonna be eating.

Ruggie: Woah… So, I gotta judge your cooking, huh, Kalim-kun…?

Kalim: Here ya go, dig in.

Ruggie: Dig in… What, like, literally!? There's a whole mountain-load on this plate that it's spilling off!

Ruggie: How many people is this supposed to feed!?

Kalim: Uhhh, well, I used up all the extra ingredients we had left, so… Wait, how many servings is that total?

Kalim: Basically, I made enough to fill a huge pot!

Ruggie: R-Right.

Ruggie: It definitely smells and looks spicy…

Ruggie: But I can't let food go to waste, so… I'm gonna go my best to eat it all!

[bite]

Ruggie: HWEEEEEEEE～～～～ IT'S SPIIIIIIIIICYYYYYYYY!!!!

Ruggie: It's way too hot! What, are you trying to torture me!?

Kalim: H-Huh? I threw in a ton of stuff, hoping it'd be filling, but did I put in too much?

Kalim: …Woah, Ruggie! You're sweating bullets after just one bite of the biryani!?

Kalim: Hmm… Trey did say that I should be thinking of my guest's preferences when feeding them.

Kalim: If this isn't to your taste, I can take back the biryani and make something else…

Ruggie: NO, YOU CAN'T!!!!!!

Ruggie: My policy's that all food presented's gotta be eaten. Even if I gotta take it home, I'll eat everything!

Ruggie: Forgetting the taste for a sec, I like how you made a ton of it, so… It's fine, I'll eat it all!

Kalim: W-Woah. Hey, this is the first time I've ever seen you look so desperate!?

Kalim: I didn't think I could've made something that'd make you have to force yourself to eat it like this…

Kalim: My bad, Ruggie! It's all because I'm not used to cooking…

Ghost Chef: Now, now, enough with the theatrics, both of you! There's no need to be despondent, we just need to remake it.

Kalim: Remake it…? Oh, yeah!

Kalim: If it's not spicy, then you can eat it fine, right!?

Ruggie: Yeah, yeah, that sounds like a great idea!

Kalim: Okay, then, this'll help to lift your spirits, then!

Kalim: But, uh, what should we do to remake it?

Ghost Chef: Hm, let me think― How about this?

[clink]

Ruggie: Whew～ …I'm stuffed! That was good!

Ruggie: But wow, who'd've thunk to try wrapping that spicy biryani rice in an omelet like that?

Ruggie: And also, making a risotto by simmering it in coconut milk? That was surprising.

Ruggie: Kalim-kun, all the dishes you made to fix it were so tasty.

Kalim: Great～! That makes me feel better.

Ruggie: Oh yeah, can I take home the stuff I couldn't finish eating?

Kalim: Of course!

Ruggie: Sheeheehee. Thanks to you remaking it, there's a ton more dishes now, so I should be set on food for a while!

Kalim: …I might've messed up on the biryani, but at least I got to learn a bunch of new recipes, and on top of that, gave Ruggie a full belly.

Kalim: Thanks, Chef!

Ghost Chef: You're most welcome. With all your eagerness and positivity, you have the potential to learn so much.

Ghost Chef: I do hope you'll continue to try making more dishes.

Kalim: Really?

Kalim: Alright, I'm gonna do all I can to serve as many dishes as I can to my guests, then!

Ruggie: Please, don't. I think you're more suited to be fed, than to feed others…

Requested by @sweetdelightknight.

[starkwlkr]

celebrity skin | cillian murphy

barbenheimer series

‘Is Hollywood done with Y/n?’

‘Y/n L/n, the girl failure’

That’s what the articles published on their front page. Recently, Y/n had refused to do a big budget film for a legendary director claiming that she wanted to take a break from the world of acting. Her and Cillian were looking to buy a house in Ireland so she was busy looking at listings and calling multiple real estate agents.

The director ended up calling her a bitch over the phone. He had insulted her over and over, stating that she would regret her decision.

After a source told multiple magazines about the situation only the ‘source’ didn’t tell the full story, the media started calling her annoying, selfish, dumb blonde, and the one that stuck the most, a bitch.

Cillian was not having it. Instead of going to his audition for a new series, he stayed home with her. He didn’t want her to be alone, especially at a time where the media and ‘fans’ were turning their backs on her.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” Y/n sighed as she snuggled up to Cillian. They were currently in London since Cillian had gotten an audition for a BBC series. He called the casting director and canceled, which made Y/n mad. Why wouldn’t she be? He had talked about the audition for months and now he canceled?!

“I want to.” He replied, giving her a kiss to the side of her head. “You haven’t eaten anything. I can make you pancakes, I know how much you love breakfast for dinner.”

“I’ll eat in a bit. I think I want to take a nap.” She said.

Cillian had noticed how she’s been taking naps all week. Sometimes she wouldn’t even come out of her room and all she ate was granola bars and orange juice.

“I want you to know that I’m with you every step of the way. Those articles? They’re wrong. Fuck those articles. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much.” Cillian admitted.

Y/n could feel a tear roll down her cheek. Sometimes all she wanted to do was run away with Cillian to whatever country and live their lives in a nice house.

“You’re a jerk, you know that. . I wasn’t planning on crying today. But I love you too.” Y/n laughed as Cillian pulled her in for a kiss. “I wish we could leave this place and go to one of those cottage houses in the countryside. That’s always been a dream of mine.”

“That sounds nice. Why don’t you pack your bag and I’ll buy our tickets and we can leave tomorrow.” Cillian said.

“What?” Y/n asked confused.

“I saw you looking at this cottage the other day on your laptop. I bought it two days ago and I payed my mum to buy us some nice furniture and food so by the time we get there it’ll be okay for us to stay there for a while. So go pack and I’ll arrange our flight. You and I are leaving all this behind for the next few days. No work, no fancy dresses or premieres to attend. Just us and our new home.” He explained.

“You’re full of surprises, my love.”

TIME SKIP

OCTOBER

It had been a few months since Y/n and Cillian left their life in London and stayed in their new cottage in the countryside. She loved it there. No paparazzi or pushy fans to bother her or Cillian. It was paradise for her. Eventually the casting director for Peaky Blinders offered the role of Tommy Shelby to Cillian since last time Cillian was going to audition he had called to cancel. The casting director desperately wanted him to portray the protagonist of the new BBC series.

Y/n encouraged Cillian to take the role. She was fine with staying in their cottage after all she had made new friends with the women that lived nearby. So Cillian flew back to London to film and Y/n stayed behind. She had picked up new hobbies, fixed some stuff that needed fixing like the guest room and even started working on her garden.

Soon, Cillian had finished filming and made it back home to Y/n just in time for her birthday. Even though it was her day, Y/n insisted on making dinner herself. She decided to cook a comfort food of hers, chicken alfredo.

Cillian watched as she set a plate full of pasta and chicken in front of him then placed hers on her placemat. “I should be cooking for you.” Cillian said, grabbing his fork and beginning to eat.

“If the birthday girl wants to cook then let her.” Y/n stated then began to eat. “How was filming? I saw some pictures on twitter of you on set and I have mixed feelings about the haircut.”

“You don’t like it? Be honest. I don’t like it.” Cillian admitted.

“Well it took some time to get used to it, but I kind of like it now. I don’t know, you look hot either way.” Y/n smirked.

“Then I guess I’ll have to thank the hair department.”

Soon, both plates of food were forgotten as the two lovers made their way to their bedroom, pieces of clothing scattered around. It had been months and both Cillian and Y/n were counting down the days until they say each other again. Months without a single kiss or the feeling of skin on skin. What a way to end your birthday . . .

TAGLIST

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