#three times in and my smile is gone. eventually the jokes at his expense just started sounding ableist to me.

[junnnhui]

i think i finally found a asian drama romcom I do not like. as someone who watches a lot of asian shows (both trash tv and otherwise), this truly surprises me.

[moonstruckme]

hi there, you did a james drabble some time ago with financially insecure reader and i'm just wondering if that's something you'd write again! maybe one where james is showering the r in gifts and they're just thinking "this is so expensive, you shouldn't be spending so much on me" and james comforts them? totally fine if you don't though, thank you anyway 💐

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: reader is financially insecure

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 825 words

When you go to put on your shoes, yours aren’t there. In their place is a lookalike pair, but whole and squeaky clean where yours are worn and dirty. 

“Jamie?” you call. Excitement and dread mixing up in your gut until they’ve become one thing. 

“Yeah?” Your boyfriend’s head pops out of the kitchen. His eyes fall to where you’re sitting on the floor, the new pair of shoes in front of you, and his smile breaks out like a sunrise. “Oh, yeah. I got you something.” 

“They’re for me?” You hold the one shoe up in front of you like a foreign object, speechless. 

James laughs. “Well, they’re not likely to fit me. Yeah, angel, they’re yours.” 

Something guilty twists in your gut. You take a breath. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no big deal.” 

“It is. And I appreciate it, but—” 

“But?” 

“But I can’t accept these.” You set the shoes back down on the floor, looking up at him remorsefully. “It’s too much.” 

“Sweetheart,” James laughs. He leans his hip against the wall, giving you a fond look. “Don’t be silly. You needed a new pair. Your old ones are torn to shreds.” 

“They’re not that bad,” you say embarrassedly. 

“There’s a rip in the side big enough to stick your entire foot out of.” 

“I know they’re not perfect.” Your voice goes a tad sharp, and James’ smile starts to slip as he realizes he’s the only one who’s joking. “I’m going to get another pair eventually, but I just can’t afford it right now.” 

“Hey.” He lowers himself down onto his haunches next to you, voice and expression going extra gentle. “It’s okay. Now you don’t need to worry about it, because you have them, right?” 

You suck on your bottom lip, feeling your expression pinch as you shake your head at him. He doesn’t get it. How could he? James has never been in a position where he was forced to take and couldn’t afford to give. 

“I know you’re just trying to help,” you say, tempering your tone, “and I really do appreciate it, Jamie, but you give me so many gifts and I—” 

“Okay, hold on.” He sets a hand on your knee, still with that indulgent look on his face. “There haven’t been that many.” 

You give him an exasperated look. Just last week it had been chocolates from the fancy shop downtown, and before that he’d gone back for a skirt you’d passed by because it was out of your price range. You know he hasn’t forgotten. 

“But how many have I given you?” 

James blinks. “Um. You gave me that nice waffle iron for my birthday.” 

It sounds like a lame gift when he says it out loud, compared to all the things he’s gotten you since then, but you’d skimmed savings off the tops of your paychecks for three weeks to get him that. Your face is beginning to feel hot. You’re not ashamed of how much you make, but it’s frustrating to think about how your boyfriend won’t ever be able to understand the way you think about money, why you get so stressed out about it, how you’re constantly worried it will run out. 

“It just makes me uncomfortable to take so many things from you when I can’t give anything back,” you admit. “I know that’s not why you’re doing it, but it makes me feel bad.” 

James’ brows press close together. His hand smooths from your knee up your thigh, and you can see how hard he’s trying to understand. It makes you feel even worse. 

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “You know I don’t care if you get me things, right?” 

“I know,” you promise him. “It’s just, I care.”

He nods, a warm sort of concern in his expression. “Then what do you want to do, angel?” 

You take his hand from your leg, tracing the lines with your fingers. “Maybe we could keep gifts to birthdays and holidays?” you ask tentatively. 

“Hm. Yeah, I think I can manage that. Like Easter?” 

You smile down at his hand. Kiss one of his fingertips. “Maybe only the traditionally gift-giving holidays.” 

James sighs heavily, but it’s for show. “Fine. Hey.” He closes his fingers around yours, and you look up to find him studying you with soft, kind eyes. “You know I’m not upset, right?” 

You drop your gaze again. “I’m just sorry I’m not being more grateful. They’re really nice gifts.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he leans closer, touching his lips to yours sweetly, “but I don’t need you to be grateful. I’m glad you told me how you felt. It’s only fun if you enjoy them, yeah?”

“I do enjoy them,” you say. James smiles, bringing your hand to his face and kissing your palm. 

“Good. Then keep the shoes, please? If you keep using those other ones through winter I’m afraid your feet will fall off.” 

[gravedigginbbydoll]

It's Never Just Coffee

Rockstar Eddie x F! Reader Angst Blurb

AN: Hi. I've been having a rough time lately but I cranked this one out to release some angst and pain. Inspired by Coffee by Chappell Roan (take a listen). Thanks to @eddies-house for indulging me and encouraging me to write this. Enjoy.

CW: Pain, heartbreak, sexual content, making love, allusion to being used, F!MC experiencing depression and heartbreak and anxiety, extreme loneliness, toxic relationship, repetitive cycles, angst no comfort.

You sighed, staring at your phone. Four months. It had only been four months. The stupid bright red landline was a blaring reminder of tonight; your heart squeezed at the memory of the conversation you had just a few days ago. He had been gone on tour, leaving you in your heartbreak, your sleepless nights eventually fading after three months. The pain was beginning to subside to a dull ache. Of course, as soon as the wounds began to heal, he wandered back into your life. It wasn’t like you were strong enough to say no. Despite the anger you tried to build up, all you felt was the gut-wrenching sickness of unrequited love. Of yearning. You looked back at the mirror in front of your desk, adjusting your makeup. 

It’s a mistake. 

We shouldn’t meet. 

Not at Enzo’s. 

You ignored the nagging voice in your head, your heart tugging at the idea of those soft brown eyes. The glint of his silver rings. Your hands shook as you grabbed your bag and bit your lip. You dressed up, sure. But it was just to make him realize what he lost. At least, that was what you were telling yourself. 

You headed to the door, glancing around your sad and lonely studio apartment, swearing to yourself you’d come back alone. 

But your heart knew it was a lie. 

You walked up to the counter at Enzo’s, gave the name on the reservation, and eventually sat. You ordered a bottle of wine despite the voice in your head scolding you as to how bad of an idea it was. You sat there, feigning confidence, despite feeling like your heart was out in the open. You sip on the alcohol, recalling the last time you and him were at Enzo’s. 

You were meeting his Uncle Wayne, and everything was going swimmingly. Up until he suddenly was leaving for a meeting with a producer, claiming this was ‘the one.’ You two ended up in a screaming match outside the restaurant, and he left you in the pouring rain. Wayne drove you home, apologetic over his nephew’s outburst. 

You’re pulled out of the memory when a waitress comes over, asking if you are still waiting for the rest of your party. You look up, heart sinking. Of course, he was late. You nod, a sad, soft smile on your lips as you recheck your watch. The waitress gives you a sad but knowing look and leaves you be. You wait a few more minutes, sighing when it reaches thirty minutes. You’re about to leave money for the wine and leave, standing up, when a teasing voice rings through the air. 

“What, couldn’t handle the idea of seeing my ugly mug again?”

You looked up, heart-stopping in its tracks. You had hoped that after all the ugliness that ensued, you would see his true colors. He’d be hideous to you. But of course, he wasn’t. His eyes were mischievous as ever, a warm shade of brown that filled you with fluttering nerves. His grin was as boyish and charming as usual, his dimples clear as day. His hair was up in a bun, messy curls framing his face. Unlike the old Eddie you knew, he wore appropriate clothes for Enzo’s and not ill-fitting borrowed button-ups from Wayne. He had an expensive watch on his wrist, a subtle marker of the changes in his life. 

You smiled softly, knowing the action didn’t meet your eyes. It couldn’t. You couldn’t push down the way your heart soared at his familiar rasp, his mannerisms as he sat down, and even his stupid jokes. It hurt how you knew; you knew he had a restless leg angled out from under the table to not shake it. 

You shouldn’t know so much about someone who should be a stranger. 

You should leave.

But you don’t. 

Eddie is nothing but charming. He buys a bottle of expensive and sweet white wine, then offers to pay for your dinner. You let him despite your gut telling you not to. He was still every bit of a storyteller, describing in detail every crazy thing that happened on the small tour. He gives updates on Corroded Coffin’s latest projects. You drink it all in, the alcohol loosening your mind and maybe your control. 

Two hours later, you were still seated at the table, leaning into his every word, wishing you were here under different circumstances. He kept randomly interjecting on your gorgeous appearance, and your inebriated mind started believing his words. 

You were giggling at a story he’s told about Gareth fainting at the sight of a fan’s boobs when Eddie’s face suddenly turned sincere, and he reached for your hand. You let him grab it (foolishly), eyebrows furrowed at the change in his demeanor. 

“You know…I sincerely fucked up, doll. And I don’t think I ever said it…but I’m sorry. You truly deserved better.” 

You blink at him a few times. Your heart seems to tug at your mind, dragging it toward Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You smile a sad smile and wave him off, trying to be stronger than you are. 

“We both made mistakes. It’s fine.” 

He smiles softly at you, his eyes a bit sad, as he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, but I lost the treasure. You.” 

He laughs humorlessly, swirling the wine in his glass, clearly taking up after the Californian producers he was around these days, seeing as old Eddie rarely drank anything other than cheap beer. 

“All because I was a fucking coward and couldn’t admit I loved- love…you.”

He looked up at you through thick lashes, his cheeks pink. Your heart felt ripped in half. Your eyes watered as you bit your trembling lip and looked away, breathing slowly. The breaths are shaky. 

Eddie grasped your hand and tugged you out of the seat, leaving an absurd amount of cash on the table and helping you to the door. You felt yourself melt into his familiar touch, and your soul weep. God, you had missed the warm touch and the smell of his spicy and sweet cologne, the rumble of his laugh against your back…

He holds your hand, walking with you around town. Somehow, he makes dingy Hawkins shine so much brighter. You walk the old town square, leaning against him as he softly talks to you, voice whispering how much he missed you. You mumble back the secrets you swore you’d never spill. How much you missed him. How proud you were of him. How you were worried he would replace you with some leggy blonde in California. He laughed at that one, pecking your forehead. 

You shivered in the cold Hawkins night breeze, knowing that it was not that cold, and Eddie had already draped his leather jacket over you, and it was a mistake because it would lead to-

“Wanna get out of the cold? You could show me your cute little studio.” 

That. 

You entered your sad apartment, still tipsy and stumbling against Eddie. You turned on the lights and feel your cheeks heat. It was embarrassing how raw this place made you feel. Eddie could see your bed…your kitchen…your bathroom. You suddenly were aware of how dangerous this was and tried to turn to Eddie to maybe give an excuse for how tired you were. 

He was looking down at you, eyes full of longing, gaze on your lips. His voice was strained as he kept fighting to look into your eyes, but his own continued to drift down. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You bit your lip, your stomach flipping as your heart twisted in pain, but you felt in your bones that you wanted nothing more in the world. You nodded weakly, giving in. 

Eddie crashed his lips to yours, his hands cupping your face. He kissed you like he needed you for oxygen like you were intoxicating. And god, if you didn’t crave it. If you didn’t melt, bring your arms around his neck, tugging at his roots and making him moan. He continued to kiss you, and every time he pulled away for a breath, he left you breathless. He wrapped his arms around your waist, continuing to kiss you and eventually peppering kisses down your neck, mumbling how much he missed you. You whimpered and pawed at him, eyes watering. You wanted nothing more than this. This was home to you. His touch. His gaze. His warmth. 

He backs you up into your bed, hands under your dress and touch burning you. He leans in to kiss you when you put a hand to his chest and pant, stopping him. He looked concerned before you gazed up at him, knowing you were opening your chest and leaving your heart vulnerable to any damage. You didn’t learn. 

“Make love to me,” You whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Eddie’s gaze softened, cupping your face and leaning in to press his forehead to your own. He nodded wordlessly before kissing you and touching you gently, lifting your dress over your head. His lips were everywhere, gentle yet bruising kisses, marking you his. He mumbled how much he loves your thighs, your stomach, your shoulders…He softly touched and kissed you before letting you take off his shirt. He quickly removed his own pants to focus on you, muttering praises and making holes in your heart with every sentence. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

“I’m sorry I let you go, love.” 

“I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m sorry I was too much of a coward to say it before.”

By the time he’s entered you, you’re crying softly as he kisses away tears, still muttering ‘I love you’s and holding you tenderly. He thrust into you at a slow but toe-curling pace, his forehead against you as he praised you, telling you how perfect you are for him, how good you feel, how he was stupid to let you go. You clutch at him, crying and muttering back, kissing him again and again, your heart twisting in your chest, the heartbreak unbearable. 

You felt an overwhelming sensation of heartache, pleasure, and yearning all build up, your tears flowing faster as gasps and moans leave your mouth, Eddie’s breath against you, his lips at your neck. He continues to mutter how good you are for him and how good you feel, your body trembling beneath him at the confessions. Eventually, the two of you reach a high, your cries warbled in a raw throat, his grunts growing more animalistic and desperate. You felt the pressure build-up, stuttering out declarations of love over and over. Eddie chased your high with his own, tackling your mouth with bruising kisses and whispered affection. 

You felt him finish in you, the familiar feeling of fullness and his release making you shudder. You laid there for a moment as he collapsed on you, staring up at the ceiling with a blurry gaze. You felt as though you were back there, briefly, before it all went downhill. 

Eddie got off of you slowly, delicately kissing your nose before pulling out of you, the two of you collectively whining at the loss of contact. He got up, headed to your bathroom, and returned with a warm and damp rag, cleaning you up gently. He then threw the rag in the bathroom sink, headed to your kitchen, and grabbed you a glass of water as you shakily got up to use the restroom, heart racing. You returned to the bed, and he held the glass for you, letting you drink as he softly caressed your hair. 

After a minute of quiet yet soft gazes and gentle touches, Eddie pulled on his underwear, crawling into your bed and holding you. Your heart felt like it could soar, even with all the pierced holes. You had felt your breathing slow, and your eyes grew heavy as you were lulled into a sense of security and familiarity you had longed for. 

You woke up to your alarm on your phone, eyes fluttering open in confusion. You looked at the bedside table, your alarm clock flashing in the dim room. The sun was just peaking through the windows, the light making you slowly wake up. Your memory was jolted with the reminder of Eddie, Eddie, in your bed. But as you had stretched, glancing over to the other side of the bed, it was empty. You sat up slowly, head swimming with confusion and heart sinking increasingly by the minute. 

You glanced around before seeing the note left on your coffee table. Still naked from the night before, you get up, wrapping yourself in a robe, before grabbing the letter. You open the paper, hands shaking at the first sentence, the rest of the words swimming as a sob escapes your throat, your gut twisting as the familiar pang of heartache joins you once again. 

I’m sorry. 

Six months pass, holidays come and go, and friends are cautious to be gentle with you. You never told anyone what happened that night, but figured they knew. You knew it was obvious how you avoided magazines with his face plastered on them and ignored the posters and billboards for his latest tour. Dodged any reminder, including avoiding Wayne Munson’s regular Tuesday grocery trips in Hawkins, even though it required you to use more gas, as Hawkins only had one grocery store. You were extra cautious.

It was spring, the flowers blooming, and the weather was warming up. Your heart wasn’t healed by any means, but you were slowly shaking off the numbness and pain. You had been invited to Robin’s birthday, deciding to go despite the inkling feeling that something may go wrong. 

You showed up at the Harrington house, and Steve greeted you with a warm hug. He ushered you into the backyard, tables set up, and people mingling. Robin tackled you with a hug, making you laugh, the sound still unfamiliar in your own ears. She was wearing a goofy paper crown that Will had made out of paper mache, the small detail making you smile. 

You walked around, greeting everyone and hugging them. You were grateful that you didn’t see a familiar mop of brown curly hair, knowing he was probably busy promoting the debut album and first international tour. You slowly loosened up a bit more, chatting it up with Nancy and joking over the kids (who are now in college) and how much they’ve stayed the same despite the years. Your heart feels a little lighter.

You’re sipping on some punch with Nancy and Robin, laughing at Dustin and Mike tackling each other, their antics amusing you. You felt your heart sink when you heard a gasp, and your eyes caught a flash run through the backyard to tackle the two younger boys, the laughter clear as day. Your chest squeezed, and you turned your back to the scene, excusing yourself to the restroom. 

You walked as fast as you could, breathing picking up as your body trembled. You entered the downstairs bathroom, hands clutching at the counter and biting your lip to keep it from shaking. You couldn’t fathom why he was here or who invited him and knew it was selfish to run off like that. It was Robin’s day. And you had shown up knowing he was still friends with some of your friends. You knew Nancy and Robin had been upset with him regarding the nasty breakup, but Dustin worshiped him. And you knew Steve had probably invited him, polite and friendly. No one except Nancy and Robin knew about the breakup and what happened; the ordeal was too painful and embarrassing to retell. 

You breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm the wavy breaths. You needed to show him you weren’t shattered without him. That you weren’t broken to pieces. You splashed your face with cold water, thankful for the waterproof makeup you were sporting. You stayed in the bathroom a few minutes more before heading out to the backyard, ignoring him. You walked towards El, sitting with her and talking about her classes, smiling as she described her University, ignoring the intense gaze across the backyard. 

You walked around, chatting and keeping your gaze away from the culprit of your heartache. You were quick to excuse yourself when he showed up to join whatever conversation you were in. By the end of the evening, you were exhausted, and your wounds were fresh. You hugged Robin and waved to the rest, heading out, thankful now that you had walked. You could maybe get some fresh air and- 

“Wait.” 

The hair on your neck stood up, and you turned, unable to ignore the man before you. He was more filled out, with hair in a low bun and curls less messy. New black lines joined faded ink, and his clothes seemed to fit him better. Gone were the hand-me-down clothes and small-town boy. He was still devastatingly beautiful. His eyes were smudged with black eyeliner, and a few piercings decorated his ears and nose, really elevating his look. You swallowed, faking a smile. 

“Oh. Hi, Eddie.” 

He gave a sheepish smile, cheeks tinged pink. “Can…I mean, can we go for a walk?” 

Your smile faltered as you felt your brows pinch together, nerves picking up. “Well, I don’t-” 

“Just a walk. In the small park by the middle school. I know how much you love the willows over there.” 

You swallowed, trying to will the words ‘no’ out of your mouth but look at his eyes. Those brown, warm, and welcoming eyes. They were pleading. They were…your deathbed. 

“Ah…Al-alright. Sure.” 

He beamed at you.

You were walking together at the park, being quieter and more cautious this time. Eddie continued to charm and dazzle you, but now your wounds were better guarded. He seemed to pick up on this and frowned, brown eyes full of hurt and guilt. 

“Y/N?”

You smile weakly at him, looking up politely. 

“Yeah?”

He turned his entire body to you and sighed, eyes sorrowful. So…soulful. 

“I- I’m sorry I fucked up. I… I thought I was doing what was best for us both. I’m a horrible man and never around, and I always leave you hanging and so- I mean, I know it’s not an excuse- But the letter- I’m sorry. I should’ve been less of a jackass. I just-” He runs a hand down his face and sighs, looking at you with sincere eyes. 

“I’m a dick. I’m sorry.” 

Your smile faltered. Fuck. It would’ve been easier if he ignored it. You could fester, pout, and be angry if he missed the mistake. You could walk away. You could- 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not,” He insists, eyes sincere and glassy. “I’m… I’m trying not to become my dad. I just…I lose my mind around you. You’re so beautiful and enchanting and…I always want you, doll.” 

The rasp in his voice. The need. The…absolute…weakness…of you. You look up at him and smile sadly, eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

“I always want you too, Eds.” 

You shivered and looked up at the willow tree you two were beside, the carved wood familiar. It’s your tree. Eddie walked up, his smile bittersweet, tracing your crudely scratched initials and heart. He looked 10 years older. 

“Remember this?” 

You held yourself, memories flooding your brain. You tried to avoid digging a more prominent grave, knowing this would lead back to your bed again with one wrong move. You simply nod. Eddie retraced the heart, voice distant like he was chasing the memory. 

“We were 16. You swore no boy would ever like you…which was ridiculous because you were adorable. But anyway…you swore they wouldn’t. And I said, ‘Why don’t we get them to pay attention? You’re off the market now! They’ll come running like dogs!’. I was, of course, lying. I just wanted to pretend you felt the same way. So I carved into this tree, making you laugh and shake your head. And it only took stupid Tommy Delwood asking you to prom two years later for me to finally get the guts to tell you I wanted the stupid tree to not be a lie.” 

Your stomach twisted at the story, lip trembling. Of course, he’d tug at your heartstrings. Of course, he’d rip off your faux armor. You were crumbling with every word, every memory of what once was. 

“Of course, I continued to be a coward and idiot. And…ever since losing you… I came to this tree. Everyday. Why? I don’t know. Maybe to remember an easier time. Maybe to wish I never broke your heart. Maybe I wish I never had you so I wouldn’t know how badly it hurts to lose you. I just… This is the one place that keeps me going in Hawkins.” 

He looked at you, tears streaming down his face, eyes rimmed red. Your heart shattered, waves overtaking your eyes, and bitter pain filled your lungs. He smiled weakly, biting his lip. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I want to get better. I want to be better for you. That’s why I keep leaving. I’m trying to work out issues with this therapist and fix all my shitty habits and problems. I know it’s unfair, and I’m weak and keep… coming back. But I need you. I- I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore- just…give me some time?” 

You felt your heart rip violently, your tears a constant flow. Thorned roses tightened around your veins and lungs, sharp tips ripping into flesh and muscle. Your lips tried to tug up with no success. 

Eddie sighed in reply, pushing off the tree. His eyes were sad, and his body slumped an inch shorter. He smiled weakly. 

“Let me walk you home?” 

Eddie and you walked home in relatively silent steps; the only sound on the journey was your faint breaths. You reached your studio, frowning at how dark it is, the town of Hawkins eerily quiet. Against your best judgment, you open your door and let Eddie in. You don’t realize your mistake until he sits on your couch, eyes still tinged with red as you hand him a coffee just as he likes. He takes the four sugars and one cream coffee, sipping slowly. Your heart seemed to be puppeting your mouth this time around.

“It’s dark out,” You mumble. 

“Y/N,” Eddie warns, eyes swimming with caution and guilt. 

“You left your truck at Steve’s. He’s probably asleep.” 

“Y/N,” Eddie sighed, running a hand down his face and voice strained.

You turn around and head back into your bathroom, starting to get ready for bed. Eddie’s still sipping on the coffee when you return, eyes rimmed red and glassy. He avoids your gaze. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. Even if I want you… Even if I need you.” 

You nod and turn out the light suddenly, getting under your covers. You smell Eddie’s aftershave and feel his arms wrap around you. 

“Only a cuddle, okay?”

You nodded, breathing slowly. Maybe you were stronger. 

You found yourself under Eddie minutes later, panting and clawing at his back as he pounded into you over and over for hours. He was kissing your cheeks and lips, rambling his love for you over and over, holding you tightly yet somehow tenderly. He kept making you see stars. By the end, you felt sweaty and spent like a hole in your chest was exposed. 

Eddie was kind as always, cleaning you up and smiling, his demeanor less sorrowful. You two cuddled until you fell asleep and lulled off into a dreamless rest. 

You woke to empty sheets, and you felt lifeless. 

No note. 

No goodbye. 

You were a fool.

One year later, you were in California. It was fall, and the absence of the dramatic change in leaves made your stomach twist with longing. You were here for new beginnings. No more walking the graveyard of your relationship with Eddie. No more following your family blindly and being a people pleaser. 

You had left in the dead of night, driving across states, surviving off of cheap dollar menus at the drive-thru. You knew Eddie spent most of his time in California, but the state wasn’t Hawkins. It was big enough that you would likely never see each other. 

You could pretend like you were healed but the wounds never set right. Scars were left over your heart, and small holes were in your armor. You couldn’t hang out with any of your old friend group; too much connection to the man who ripped you to shreds. Robin and Nancy shunned Eddie and never brought him up, but you knew that wasn’t fair to them. They shouldn’t be in your silly drama regarding your love life. You distanced yourself until you left, only leaving a note to let them know you were safe and leaving for California’s warm breezes. 

You had settled into a small beach town in southern California, the breezes cool and the sky blue. You were staying in a tiny house, lacking your personality. But you took it day by day, visiting shops and cafes nearby, taking long walks on the shore. Some days, just sitting by the beach and writing in a journal. You had no phone. No friends. You were a blank slate. 

You were working at a small bookshop, satisfied with the slow pace of life. Some days, you’d sit full of numbness, lonely in your seclusion and voluntary exile. But then you remembered how little you knew of yourself. You couldn’t remember what life was like before him. 

Your favorite color was the shade you thought looked best on Eddie. Your favorite movie was the one you’d seen together on your first date. Your favorite book was the one you had spent time and time again recalling to him. Hell, even your favorite foods or hobbies involved him in some way. It wasn’t his fault. You’d let yourself be consumed by him. He was a brilliant star, and you were engulfed in his shadow, even as young teens. You just wanted to relearn about yourself. 

Sadly, fate was a cruel mistress. 

You had made a new friend, a girl at your job who was bubbly and sweet and loved alternative music. She was quick to try and pull you out of your shell and take the ‘sad, mopey mystery girl’ to a show near Los Angeles. You agreed despite your gut telling you no. 

Ironically, Eddie wasn’t part of the concert. 

On your way back from the trip, you bumped into the new shiny celebrity that your ex-lover had become. You were scanning the shelves for a snack at a gas station with your new friend and her boyfriend. You reached for a bag of sour gummies (your favorite), only to have your hands brushed by another, only much more calloused and masculine than yours. 

“Oops! My bad,” A chuckle rumbled from his chest. 

Your heart sank quickly. 

You’d recognize him anywhere, no matter how raspy or grown the voice sounded. You kept your gaze on your shoes, dropping your hand and trying to turn away; you mumbled out an ‘it’s fine,’ hoping he didn’t recognize you. 

He stopped in his tracks. 

He grabbed your hand, turning you gently as he lowered the sunglasses covering warm brown eyes. It didn’t matter that he had on sunglasses, a bun with a bandana covering his signature curls, or even that he was at a gas station that was a speck on a map. He was still him.

“Y/n?” He asked, voice raw with emotion, eyes swimming with sorrow and longing. 

“Steve told me you disappeared. Just left a note, and… no one’s heard from you. I visited. Couldn’t get anyone to tell me where you’d gone- I…,” He swallowed, eyes glassy as he continued to look you up and down. You felt the first bout of fear, sorrow, and desperate longing that you swore off months ago. You were glad for the emotions, but…you almost wanted the numb loneliness and hurt to sink back into your bones. You didn’t think your heart could take another wound. 

“I, I just can’t believe you’re here… Ar-are you okay? Is everything okay? I-” He stopped his rambling momentarily, breathing and sighing, soft tears rolling down his cheeks. Your heart squeezed as your mind raced. 

No. No. Not again. We cannot do this again.

“I…Can we go get coffee or somet-something? Everyone’s worried sick and- I know I don’t deserve- but…,” He was wringing his hands and fidgeting with his rings, a nervous habit he had since he was a teen. “I just-” 

Your heart was racing as you smiled sadly. You felt your mouth open as you willed the words out, your insides twisting in sorrow and your heart seeming to sink below the ground. But somehow, your mind took control. For once, you left him speechless. 

“It’s never just coffee, though, is it?”

Eddie stared at you in shock, eyes knowing and shoulders slumping as his tears flowed still, brows pinched. You smiled sadly and waved softly, heading out the door with your friend and climbing into the car. You leaned your head against the window, staring at the rundown building, Eddie staring out the window through the aisle. Your heart seemed to sink deeper as your stomach twisted, but some of you felt lighter. 

No more mourning. No more giving everything to get nothing in return. 

You were on your own. But you were free. 

[lilac-hecox]

It would be totally awesome if I could have some Ianthony with jealous! Anthony. Where Anthony notices that Ian has said "I love you" (platonically) to everyone but him.

Ian/Anthony (platonic) - Say it

--

It’s a stupid game and Anthony is actually really glad he’s not in this video because Ian is awful at successfully flipping the red Solo cup and every time, he fails Chanse succeeds and the shot glass in the middle inches ever closer to Shayne. Eventually, Shayne and Ian lose and as Shayne preps to take the shot, Ian stands behind him, looking a tad embarrassed and regretful. He reaches out and squeezes Shayne’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Love you, buddy.”

Then Shayne downs the shot of half apple cider vinegar and half pickle juice and everyone around Anthony is laughing, but Anthony feels a tiny bit shellshocked. Did he hear that right? Did Ian just say he loved Shayne? Anthony knows it is platonic, but he still feels a little sting of jealousy, a sting that he’s quick to try and reason out of himself.

He’s feeling possessive because he’s still new here. Ian got close to Shayne while Anthony was gone. Ian is still his best friend. It mostly works and when the video is over and the cast goes off set, Ian comes to Anthony with a grin on his face.

“What did you think?” he asks, his eyes big and bright.

“You all did a great job,” Anthony says, and he means it, “glad I wasn’t on your team.”

Ian gives a little laugh, “Yeah, poor Shayne. Gotta love the guy though, he’s a trooper.”

Anthony forces himself to smile and nod. “Yeah, he definitely is.”

--

A few days later Ian and Anthony are sitting on the newly renovated Flashback with Smosh set. They’re set to film some bits and pieces for the trailer. Anthony is still thinking of the shoot from the other day and a little ball of what feels like dread drops into his stomach. Anthony decides to test the waters with Ian during this shoot.

In the script he’s supposed to give Ian a fist bump and call him his best friend, simple enough, but Anthony knows in his heart he’s going to go off script. Their director yells action and they run through their scripted lines. Anthony looks at Ian and curls his hand into a fist, Ian mimicking the action. They fist bump and Ian smiles, Anthony does too, a real and genuine smile.

“I love you, buddy,” he says affectionately.

Anthony sees Ian’s eyes look confused for just a split second before he smiles and returns it with an “aww.” Of his own.

They call cut.

“Decided to improvise a little?” Ian asks, though he doesn’t sound like it bothered him.

“Yeah,” Anthony says, masking his disappointment, “was that, okay?”

“Yeah, man,” Ian says with a quick and easy smile, “of course it was.”

They move on to the next shoot but the ball of dread only feels heavier in Anthony’s gut.

--

Another day and they are all eating lunch together spread across several white circular tables. Ian and Anthony are seated next to each other at two separate tables and Courtney is next to Ian. They are all three reminiscing about the past, about the beginnings of Smosh, things Courtney remembers from when she used to just be a fan. Courtney says something self-deprecating which makes both Ian and Anthony laugh, but then Ian is leaning forward and wrapping Courtney in a hug, squeezing her as she laughs.

“Stop, Courtney! I love you!” Ian says, as if he’s trying to squeeze the deprecation out of her.

“Okay! I’ll stop!” she says laughing and pushing him away.

Again, Anthony can’t help the jealousy that shoots up inside of him.

--

They film a board game with Arasha and during a break Ian makes some jokes at her expense and she deadpans about being an orphan. Ian laughs and wraps an arm around her shoulder, “Oh stop, you know I love you. You’re my son.”

--

There is the time when they are leaving for the end of the day and Spencer is staying late to help produce that Thursday’s livestream. Ian affectionately ruffling Spencer’s hair and saying, “Love you, dude, don’t stay too late, okay?” before he leaves the games pod area.

--

Finally, Anthony can’t cope away his jealousy and he knows this is one of those things he’s going to have to bring up to Ian. He waits until the two of them are alone in Ian’s office, which has become their office. Ian is checking emails on his phone when Anthony clears his throat.

“Can I talk to you, Ian?”

Ian raises an eyebrow, but he nods, “Of course, man. What’s up?”

Anthony takes a breath and thinks of a hundred different ways to casually and calmly bring up what is bothering him. They are all infinitely better than what he ends up word vomiting out.

“How come you’ll tell everyone else here that you love them but you won’t say it to me?”

There’s a brief silence and Anthony can feel his cheeks warming up.

“What?” Ian asks, like he barely understands the question.

“You’re always telling Shayne, and Courtney, and like, Spencer that you love them but when I try to get you to say it…you don’t.”

Anthony knows it sounds stupid, but it’s how he feels.

“Is this…a bit? Did Erin put you up to this?”

No, I’m serious. Look, Ian, I know it is so dumb that I am jealous, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know…I feel like we should say that to each other more.”

“Oh,” Ian says. He sets his phone down, “Anthony, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize it was bothering you.”

Anthony shrugs, “You know, just enough to talk to my therapist about it a couple of times.”

“Really? What did your therapist say?” Ian asks, like he’s actually interested.

“That I don’t own you and you’re allowed to love whoever you want and express that how you want and I’m okay with that! I am! I don’t know why I’m jealous…I just, I guess I want to make sure that when you’re saying you love people, that I’m counted in that too.”

Ian’s face softens. Anthony knows Ian hates this shit, that feelings still leave him feeling too tender and exposed, but he also knows Ian is trying.

“Anthony, I do love you, man. Of course, I do. You’ve been my best friend all my life.”

“Then why-“

“Because I never thought you needed to hear that from me. I just thought you knew,” Ian says, “I’ve been telling the others because of you.”

“Because of me?” Anthony asks.

“Because I don’t want them to think that just because you came back that I only want to spend time with you and that they don’t matter. I’ve been trying to be more open with my feelings around here because I want to be able to communicate better with you.”

“Oh,” Anthony says. He feels dumb, very dumb, and very childish.

Ian stands up and then he moves to where Anthony is seated. Anthony stands up because he feels like he should.

“Alright, you’re really pushing me out of my comfort zone here,” Ian mumbles, his face getting red. He opens his arms, pulls Anthony in for a hug, wrapping his arms around Anthony and squeezing just a little.

Anthony hugs back, he can’t help but smile into Ian’s shoulder.

“So, for the record. I do love you; you know that right?” Ian says into Anthony’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Anthony says, giving Ian a squeeze in return, “I love you too, buddy.”

200 Follower Requests

[huggybug]

better together - matt boldy

word count: 4.6k words

requested?/inspired by this! my first time writing for boldy🫣 i hope it’s good enough lol and if it is.. i officially write for matt boldy!

You had gone through a lot in your life. A statement your brothers would call you dramatic for saying but you always argued that you had a point. It was tough enough growing up with three brothers, two older and one being your twin, but with all of them being top prospects, you seemed to fall through the cracks.

The Hughes family was America’s favourite. They adored your brothers, of course, and your parents as well. You stayed out of most interviews, only ever being mentioned but not for long, not before it was forgotten in favour of Jack’s newest record.

Growing up, Quinn was always the one who stuck up for you. He made sure you were included or that Jack and Luke weren’t teasing you too much. Quinn was the one who helped clean up the scrape you got on your knee when Jack pushed you aside in order to get the ball in whatever silly game you were playing, he was also the one who wiped away your tears when Johnny, your grade 6 boyfriend, found a new girlfriend at his summer camp, leaving you in the dust.

And it wasn’t that Jack and Luke weren’t good brothers per say, they just didn’t exactly realize that you were different since you were a girl. You wanted to play dress up and barbie’s while they wanted to play hockey and wrestle. It didn’t even matter though because eventually, once you all grew up, it was much easier to hang out and be friends with each other.

However, that wasn’t the case until a couple years ago, things actually shifted when Jack started playing in New Jersey. Before that, things were just different, you were just Jack Hughes’ little sister and that’s exactly how everyone treated you.

2018

“Can I come?” You asked hopefully.

“Uh no… you’re too young” Jack said, leaving you out of plans as per usual. It wasn’t like you desperately needed to join in on their plans. They were going to a movie, one that you could just watch at home but… you hated to be left out.

“But Luke is going, we’re literally twins” Jack just shrugged and you looked around helplessly at the group, hoping one of them would feel bad for you and coax Jack into letting you come. Trevor and Cole just looked at you, smiling pitifully before grabbing their coats. You whined as the left with Luke following after, not even sparing you a glance.

“I’ll bring you back some sour patch kids” Alex smiled, patting your head as he left. Alex was definitely your favourite.

And if Alex was your favourite, Matt Boldy was your least. He was actually the person who came closest to you despising. Matt was supposedly a nice guy, that’s what your mom said at least. ‘He’s such a sweet kid’ if only you had a dollar for every time you heard that.

If Matt was a nice kid, he sure liked to fool you. He laughed at every joke made at your expense, usually by Jack. For the most part, Jack’s friends were nice. Cole would always say hi to you, even ask how you day was sometimes. Patrick and Trevor would talk to you whenever they came over and you appreciated it, even if they were only doing it to be polite. Alex was the only one who spent time with you, probably since he actually lived in your house. The two of you would have movie nights and you were working your way through Brooklyn 99 together; Alex was your friend, maybe not as much as he was Jack’s but you still claimed him as a friend anyway.

Every memory you had of Matt Boldy was a sour one, he had never explicitly talked to you, maybe the odd comment but he usually just ignored you which you used to hate but now, you considered yourself lucky.

“Y/n’s going out with a boy” Luke laughed as he clamoured down the stairs while you chased after him, yelling for him to keep it quiet. It was bad enough that he found out about your date but now he was running his mouth to Jack? It was so against your twin code.

“No she’s not” Jack snickered and you crossed your arms when you rounded the corner to find him and his friends sprawled out on the couches.

“Oh yeah, that Max guy from my team. They’re going to the movies” Luke sang, teasing you while you pouted, marching over to sit next to Alex who shoved Trevor over to make room for you.

“Baby Hughes got a date?” Matt asked in a tone that made it sound absurd that you actually found someone to go out on a date with you. I mean, if you could even call it that, you were only 15 so your mom still had to drive you there, it was hardly a date.

“Baby Hughes is all grown up” Trevor says despite only knowing you for a few months.

“Is this some sort of bet or something? Emma was telling me about a book where they made a bet that he couldn’t make the weird girl fall in love with him…” Matt asked but was cut off when Alex threw a pillow at his head.

“Dude are you still talking?” Alex Turcotte, everyone. You smiled gratefully at Alex who patted your head in response, he reminded you of Quinn, that’s definitely why you stuck around him.

Long story short, Matt Boldy hated you and you hated him for it. Sorry, you strongly disliked him, your mom didn’t appreciate you saying you hated people.

2019

When Jack’s friends all returned to Michigan for their second year of the program, you had vowed to be a changed woman. You still spent time with Alex and when Luke was busy with hockey, you found yourself spending more time with Jack, something you hadn’t expected. However, Quinn told you that it was because Jack realized he would be leaving soon so he was trying to get all his ‘baby sister time’ in now.

You didn’t mind, you loved it actually. More time with Jack meant more time with his friends and you weren’t upset about that either; Cole and Trevor were actually nice and you accredited it to you being older but they seemed to want to talk to you now. In spite of that, your relationship with Matt didn’t change , not that you wanted it to. He didn’t make the jokes anymore but that was probably because you were closer with the rest of the boys now so they wouldn’t laugh, only tell him to knock it off which ruined the fun for him.

“I don’t understand how you don’t like him, he’s so nice” Quinn said one day over lunch. You went to Ann Arbor with Luke and your mom. They went to look around the campus or something but you decided to go see your oldest brother instead.

“Not to me” You huffed.

“Maybe he has a crush on you” Quinn was laughing before he even finished your sentence. You weren’t sure if it was because of the twisted face you pulled or just the sheer idea of Matt Boldy liking you… both were equally ridiculous to you.

“Quintin please, I’m trying to eat here”

2020

The first year that Jack played in the NHL was weird. It was weird that it was only you and Luke left in the house, Quinn had been gone for a while and even if he was only in Ann Arbor, he was still out of the house. The only sense of normality in 2020 was when everyone gathered at the Hughes lake house.

After being quarantined and many, many tests, everyone was finally able to fly in and since they all arranged for their training to be together, the lake house was full again.

This summer, you got even closer with some of the boys but Matt didn’t let up, especially when he found out about Josh.

“Quinn met Josh last week” You told Alex.

“And? Did he get Huggy’s stamp of approval?” He asked a bit louder than you would’ve liked.

“Did who get my stamp of approval?” Quinn asked as he sat down next to you.

“Josh, ‘boyfriend Josh’” Alex used air quotes, making sure Quinn, and everyone else sitting around the fire, know exactly who he was talking about.

“Ohhh yeah boyfriend Josh is quite the guy” Quinn nodded, taking a long sip of his beer.

“You said you liked him!”

“Wait… who’s boyfriend Josh?” Jack asked.

“Well I think… I think he’s Y/n’s new boyfriend” Trevor grinned before Jack smacked the back of his head.

“Y/n has a boyfriend?” Matt smirked and you rolled your eyes, huffing as you fall back into the couch, annoyed that your relationship has now become a point of conversation with your older brother’s friends.

“Jealous?” You smile smugly which makes Matt grimace.

“Anyways… why haven’t I met boyfriend Josh?” Jack turns to you.

“Can we stop calling him boyfriend Josh?” You groan.

“No pouting!” Luke yells at you as he walks into the room and you roll your eyes, wiggling out from under Alex’s arm to sit up straight.

“No we can’t because then Josh will get confused and think we’re talking about him” Trevor pointed out, motioning over to Josh Norris who’s head raises from looking at his phone.

“I think Josh can pick up on context clues”

“Hold on… our Josh or boyfriend Josh? See? This is already confusing” Trevor shook his head and his question made all the boys start laughing.

“I hate you all” You groan and Quinn throws his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“Boyfriend Josh is very nice and he’s good for Y/n/n… let’s drop it so that Trev doesn’t strain his brain from thinking too hard”

Jack met your boyfriend later that summer, everyone did actually. You had a few friends come to the lake house for your birthday in August.

“So he is real” You were already regretting this decision and Josh had only been here for five minutes.

“Guys, this is Josh” You took a deep breath, as soon as you uttered the words to Jack and Luke, you head ten sets of steps coming down the hallway.

“Boyfriend Josh!” Trevor exclaimed.

“I didn’t think he was real” Matt mumbled and Patrick elbowed him in the ribs.

“I’m sorry in advance” Alex stepped forward and gave Josh a little bro handshake. They met over facetime a few times, only because you were too scared to tell your brothers at that point.

“Josh, good to see you man” Quinn gave him a little handshake as well and you smiled, it made you happy that Quinn liked him.

The rest of the guys introduced themselves and you only rolled your eyes once when Matt made an off handed comment but Josh squeezed your hand to insure you that it didn’t bother him in the slightest which did help you relax. Other than the pest, the guys were more than welcoming to Josh and despite still calling him ‘boyfriend Josh’ throughout the week, they actually seemed to like him.

2021

This year, you were fresh off a graduation and there was nothing standing in the way of your last summer before college. You were going to the University of Michigan, of course, and you finally didn’t feel like you were that much younger than the rest of your friends.

Josh came back to the lake house this summer, a year into your relationship and it was stronger than ever. The guys welcomed him back and you were glad it seemed to work effortlessly. There were a few girlfriends in attendance this year which you loved, more girls to hang out with was always fun and it also helped keep some of the boys in check.

You spent most of the summer laying around in Josh’s arms, talking about your futures. It was the perfect summer of doing absolutely nothing.

“We should just stay here forever” Josh mumbled and you smiled.

“I’m sure Quinn would love that” Your group had now migrated from your family’s lake house to the new one Quinn and Jack bought together in Michigan. It was much bigger and much fancier, making it obvious that it was the product of two NHL salaries.

Josh laughed, “But seriously, I don’t want to leave you” He was going to Duke for basketball, something you both knew was happening but had chosen to ignore for the past year.

“I know, I don’t want to either” You sigh loudly.

“But we’ll always have this right? This summer was just for us” Josh mumbled and you nodded. This year was the first summer that wasn’t ruined by Matt.

2022

“So, where’s boyfriend Josh?” Trevor asked as he shoved Mackie’s arm away from your shoulders and replaced it with his own. This year, you and Luke’s friends (aka his hockey team) made it to the house and it was definitely a change of pace for you compared to your last two summers.

“Ex-boyfriend Josh” You said quietly.

“EX?” Trevor yelled and all heads turned your way. “When we’re you planning on telling us?”

“I didn’t realize I had to send out a notification to half the league that my boyfriend dumped me” You scoffed.

Eddy came up and pulled you away from Trevor, putting his arms around you protectively. “Y/n/n is better off without him” You smiled while patting his arms. Eddy was your best friend at school which meant he practically went through the break up with you.

“Did he hurt you? Because I swear-” Cole started but Jack’s laughter cut him off.

“Dude what are you going to do?” Patrick asked, “Plus I don’t think Y/n/n needs even more guys to defend her” He motioned to Eddy who smiled happily.

“Nothing happened. He’s at Duke and… I don’t know, long distance sucks” You shrugged. There wasn’t a sad, terrible story. That was it, he moved away and as hard as you tried to make it work, it just wasn’t in the cards for you two.

“Well fuck that guy!” Trevor yelled.

“Yeah, hot girl summer, right?” Alex asked, sending you a smile.

“Don’t ever talk about my baby sister having a hot girl summer, Turcs” Quinn said, a shiver going down his spine.

“He’s not saying she has to fu-”

“Nope! We’re done, let’s go Y/n/n” Quinn pulls you away and you’re laughing loudly.

…

“Where’s… what’s his name? Boyfriend John?” Matt asked as he sat in the lounger next to you, looking at you instead of the lakefront view that your brother’s house offered.

“What is everyone’s obsession with Josh?” You groaned. To be fair, he did just get here a couple hours ago, clearly missing the whole boyfriend update conversation.

“God… sorry for asking” Matt huffed sarcastically.

“No it’s fine… we just broke up so no more boyfriend Josh” You were too busy staring down at your hands to notice Matt’s eyes flicker over to you quickly.

“Oh uh sorry”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to do that” You brushed it off, “I’m not heartbroken or anything”

“I know” He said simply, “You’re not the type to be heartbroken over some guy, let alone a basketball player” Matt made himself laugh and while you weren’t exactly laughing as well, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t chuckle.

“Hey there’s nothing wrong with basketball players” You defended weakly, not like there was any reason to put up a fight anymore.

“Yeah okay” Matt snickered. You weren’t even sure why he was sitting out here and talking to you since all of his friends, that he hadn’t seen in months, were inside but yet he chose to sit out here with you, the girl he’s hated for years now.

“Are you going to stay out here and make fun of me all night or..?”

Matt laughed, “Nah I’m going don’t worry” You watched as he got up and grabbed his phone off the chair, “Just to be clear, I’m not making fun of you, I never was” You didn’t have time to answer because as soon as his words registered he was gone, the door already sliding closed behind him.

The energy shifted over the next few days, Matt was a lot more tolerable and even though his teasing had lessened over the past year or so, it was odd. He would stay quiet, even passing up the easy chirps that would wouldn’t necessarily mind. He also started talking to you more, although anything more than a sentence would be considered ‘more’.

It didn’t go unnoticed either. When Matt chose the seat near you during the fire, Alex raised an eyebrow at you, questioning what was going on. When you were the one who was ordered to grab more drinks, Matt offered to help which made almost everyone wonder what was going on. Luckily, no one said anything.

Everything was going fine. You and Matt weren’t friends but you also weren’t fighting, something Quinn and Alex claimed was a good thing.

Maybe it would’ve been, if you didn’t go and screw it all up during his last week in Michigan. He was one of the first ones to leave, having to be back in Minnesota earlier than usual. The boys weren’t going to let him go without a party though so the whole week leading up to his departure was spent getting absolutely shitfaced every night, not like that was different from any other week.

You should’ve turned away the tequila shots Trevor was bringing around, or maybe the concoction Eddy mixed for you was the thing you couldn’t recover from but whatever it was, you should’ve stopped long before you did.

“Matthew!” You drunkenly shouted, pointing at Matt who was smiling carelessly.

“Don’t call me Matthew, Y/n”

“I’ll do what I want” You pouted dramatically.

Matt laughed, “What’s up?” He fell down onto the patio couch beside you, landing a little closer than originally planned but he blamed it on the alcohol.

“Why do you hate me?” Alcohol made you very forward.

“I don’t hate you”

“Okay… why did you hate me”

“I never hated you” He smiled, “I don’t think anyone could ever hate you”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re pretty sure your words were running into each other, coming out as a slurred mess but Matt still understood.

“You’re Y/n Hughes, that’s what that means” It didn’t make sense but he was too drunk to try and explain it any further.

“You’re so stupid” You laugh, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch but it actually ends up on Matt’s arm since it’s extended behind you.

“Let’s go be stupid together” Matt whispered, almost quiet enough that you didn’t hear him. You weren’t sure how the conversation went from 0-100 so quickly but you also didn’t really mind.

A beat of silence passes before you think of anything to say, “Fine… but you’re making me breakfast tomorrow” It was your drunken compromise but Matt accepted it without hesitation.

“Yep, let’s go”

…

You woke up in the morning with the alcohol gone from your body, as were your clothes. Well, the clothes weren’t exactly gone, they were just strewed around Matt’s bedroom along with his.

You weren’t sure what your plan of attack would be. If you should pretend to be sleeping or just sneak out of the room. Although you weren’t exactly sure what happened last night so staying ‘asleep’ might be your best option; you didn’t exactly feel like getting chirped non-stop at 9 in the morning while Matt slept soundly.

You felt him move and then his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you into him which made your eyes bulge. You squirmed which must have been enough to wake him up because you could feel him moving around more now.

“Oh fuck me” He groaned as you winced.

“Pretty sure I took care of that already” You whispered and you heard him sigh. “So…”

“Ugh Jack’s gonna kill me” Matt moved around some more and his voice sounded muffled so you assumed his face was shoved into the pillow.

“Seriously? We’re in bed and the first thing you think of is my brother?” You scoff, rolling away from Matt but he pulls you back even faster.

“Sorry, hi how’s it going” You twisted around to face him just to find his little smirk present and it made you want to roll your eyes.

“How’s it going? Really?”

“You’re a pain in my ass” Matt groaned and you smiled.

“That’s not very nice Matthew”

“Don’t call me Matthew” He said quickly which made you grin.

“I believe I was promised breakfast Matthew” You flipped around, moving away from him. He said something under his breath but got up anyway. You reached for your phone, scrolling through some notifications while you waited for him to come back. You weren’t even hungry really, you just didn’t want to be the first one to leave the room and… you wanted to see if he’d actually bring you breakfast.

Matt returned a while later with two bowls in his hands. He kicked the door closed and jumped onto the bed, passing you a bowl of scrambled eggs.

“I hope you enjoy those, I went through a lot for them” You raise an eyebrow at him, silently prompting him to explain. “Alex and Trevor were in the kitchen… they had some questions”

“Ew please don’t tell me you told them” The thought of Jack’s friends knowing about your night with Matt was so gross.

“Well no… I-” He was interrupted by the door banging open.

“Yo lovebirds, we’re leaving in 5 let’s go” You glared at Trevor who was grinning at the door. “Oh and Jack wants to talk to you” Trevor skipped away, skillfully dodging the pillow you threw at him.

“I’m dead, totally dead” Matt groaned.

“I can handle Jack, don’t worry” You took your time getting ready before pulling Matt downstairs with you.

“Jack is going to kill you” Alex said when he saw the two of you entering the kitchen.

“Dude, I was drunk” Matt complained and it made you freeze.

“Is that all it was?”

“Well… yeah, isn’t it?” Your mind blanked as heat flushed your entire body.

You backed away, feeling your heart pounding harder with each passing second. “You know what? I’m not gonna go out today, I’m not feeling great” Your eyes darted from Matt to Alex who was now giving you a sympathetic look. You couldn’t stand it so you spun around and sped out of the kitchen and back upstairs, locking yourself in your room, leaving a confused Matt and furious Alex alone in the kitchen.

“What the hell was that?” Matt asked, looking to Alex for answers.

“Bro…” Alex trailed off, leaving the kitchen while shaking his head.

…

Matt spent all day thinking about it. About you, about what he said. It wasn’t just a drunken hookup, he liked you. He had liked you for years now and he finally thought it was time that things could work out for the two of you. At first, you were too young, you weren’t looking for a boyfriend, let alone your brother’s friend who was two years older than you. Then you started dating boyfriend Jason… John… Josh! Yeah boyfriend Josh was a problem for a couple years and now that you were finally single, Matt thought it was perfect timing.

But then he opened his big stupid mouth and ruined everything. You were still in your room when they got back from the lake and you didn’t come out for dinner. Quinn went up to check on you and deliver some food but nobody else had seen you.

“What happened?” Quinn asked when he came to sit next to you on you bed.

“I slept with Matt”

“Okay…” Quinn was still waiting for the details that made you spend a perfectly good day of summer locked inside.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be? You’re an adult, you can do what you want”

You laughed, “Barely, I’m not even legal”

“You’re 19, that’s how old Jack was when he moved out and you’re way more responsible than he was” You wanted to correct him and remind him that Jack was only 18 but you didn’t think it was important.

“True”

“So what happened? Did he do something?”

“No, nothing like that” You could see Quinn visibly relax, “I just… I thought it meant something, I don’t know. Then he told Alex this morning that it was just because he was drunk but really I only have myself to blame because it’s not like he even liked me, it was just in my head and now I feel stupid” Quinn let you ramble, patiently waiting for you to finish before starting his lecture.

“Don’t feel stupid, I understand what you’re saying but also think about it from his side. I’ve been in this type of situation and after I hooked up with this girl-” You interrupt him quickly.

“Ew, Quintin!” You equaled, covering your ears in attempt to shut out his gross hook up stories.

“Shut up, let me finish” He laughed, pulling your hands down. “As I was saying, we had a bit of a miscommunication after and it ended up that we wanted the same thing so really it was all for no reason” Quinn tried to explain as best he could without sharing too much. “I think you should talk to him, have a grown up conversation about it and see what he has to say”

“Okay” Quinn was always right. You trusted him with anything really so when he gave you advice, you always followed it.

You went down to find Matt later that night, slipping out of the house to grab him from the patio where he was sitting with Cole. “Hey” You lightly touched his arm to get his attention and his head whipped around to look at you.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked with concern filling his eyes.

“Yeah… can we talk?” He nodded and got up, following you back inside to the empty living room, sitting down next to you on the couch.

“I’m sorry” You both said and the same time which made you laugh quietly.

“You first” Matt motioned for you to go ahead.

“I freaked out when you said that it meant nothing to you because… I thought it did but I should’ve asked you and not just assumed you felt the same way. I’m sorry, it wasn’t really fair and it was really immature”

“It did mean something to me. I just said that it didn’t because I didn’t think you wanted it…” Ugh why was Quinn always right?

“Really?” You asked, wanting to make sure he was telling the truth.

“I’ve been crazy about you for a few years now so yeah, really” You bit back a smile when Matt grinned widely at you.

“A few years?” You ask and he nods, “Cradle robber” Matt laughs loudly. “I’m kidding Matthew, don’t worry”

“Stop calling me Matthew” He complained which made you smirk.

“Never” You leaned forward to kiss him quickly but his hands found your waist and held you there for longer.

“Gross, get a room” Quinn teased as he walked into the house. Matt’s eyes went wide, scared of what your brother would say or do. Quinn noticed his expression and laughed, “I don’t care Boldy, just worry about Jack” Quinn walked to the kitchen and returned with a new beer, “But don’t hurt my baby sister…”

“Don’t plan on it” Matt smirks, kissing you again when Quinn leaves.

[parkersbliss]

Diamonds | K. Brekker

pairing; kaz brekker x female!reader

warnings: cursing, I think that’s it

wc; 2.3K

synopsis: dirtyhands doesn’t need anyone, but he wants you, even if he can’t have you

prompts: 001: “why do you care?” 047: “please just let me in.”

a/n: this went in a very different direction then I planned but I love it??

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz Brekker was a lot of things.

Emotionally unavailable was one of them.

But you never thought much of it. You didn’t think less of him because of that. Surviving the barrel meant being cold, ruthless, and cunning.

Everyone had to have some dark side to them. It was a given.

But Kaz’s dark side never turned off. He was always in a constant state of brooding, thinking about all the ways the plan could fail or coming up with a new heist.

His brain never shuts off.

You never considered that a bad thing, but everyone has to rest eventually.

But rest wasn’t a word in Kaz’s dictionary. For him, resting meant thinking about other things.

Things that he wanted to forget.

So he busied himself with work, numbers, and other things to push the other thoughts out of his mind. Sometimes they were about Jordie and the harbor, sometimes they were about Rollins or you.

Kaz never wanted to forget you, but he didn’t want to think about you either. About the way, your lips curved up into a smile every time Jesper threw his arm around you. Or the way you throw your head back every time Nina makes a joke, the way you sit patiently with Wylan when he tries to read, the way you train so gracefully with Inej, and the way you make fun of Matthias’ accent.

He wants to push it all out of his mind because he doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t get how he manages to notice every detail about you.

It would cost him eventually, which is why he didn’t think about it. It’s why he tried to busy himself with things that have nothing to do with you.

But sometimes, it doesn’t always work out that way.

It was moments like these where Kaz is in a constant state of don’t fuck up and don’t say anything.

Which never goes in his favor.

The plan was simple, break-in and walk-out. There were three separate sections to the museum, and the event kept everyone pretty busy.

All you had to do was get in, steal a few jewels and then blend in with the crowd for the rest of the night.

It should be easy enough.

You all dress in your best attire, at least, the best attire that wouldn’t slow you down if you have to run. Kaz’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees you. Silky fabric, exposed skin, and all your beauty.

He nods at you as you fall into step behind him.

“You look nice,” You said.

“Thank you. So do you.”

You all find yourself in an ally by the museum as Inej scales the roof for her way in. You know she’s successful when the back entrance pops open, and she leans against the door frame with a satisfied smile on her face; her green dress trails along the floor as you make your way inside.

Bright fluorescent lights illuminate the hallway, and the sound of heels and Kaz’s cane echo down it. Kaz pick locks the three doors with ease, signaling for the groups of you to go in.

Matthias and Nina are responsible for the smaller riches, Inej, Wylan, and Jesper take care of replacing them, and you and Kaz get the big stuff.

The room sparkles with diamonds, almost blinding you. To Kaz, it smells like money. For each piece stolen, the two of you replace it with a cheaper place holder.

By the time anyone noticed, you would be gone.

You grab a ring off a stand, slipping it on and examining it in the light.

Kaz coughs, and you turn to face him.

He holds the most expensive piece in his hand, a diamond necklace.

It’s worth more than a quarter of a million kruge.

“Woah,” you breathe out. The diamonds are arranged in such a way that it sits close to the neck, and looks like small interconnected leaves.

“Wear it,” Kaz said.

“Kaz-”

“You would look… pretty with it,” The last part is barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” You agree, taking the piece from his hands. Your fingers barely brush his gloved ones as you take the necklace, clasping it around your neck.

Then, Kaz steps back. “I think we got most of it.”

You can’t take all of the riches, but you can take enough to make some serious bank. You exit the room, Kaz locking it after, and meet back in the hallway with everyone else. Inej and Nina both drip in equal expenses and gasp when they see your necklace.

“I almost want to keep it,” You said, touching the diamonds.

“It does look stunning on you,” Nina said.

“I’m sure we have enough to keep that piece,” Inej said, gesturing to the jewelry between you all.

“I do not understand the need for stones to prove one’s worth,” Matthias said.

Nina pats his shoulder, “It’s like you Fjerdans and your fur coats.”

"Witch," Matthias mumbled under his breath.

Kaz takes the lead, directing you to the main room. You can hear the sounds of people chattering, classical music floating in the air. You all split into smaller groups, mostly pairs, to avoid detection.

You and Kaz stay towards the center of the room, observing everyone else and waiting till the event ends.

As Kaz’s eyes sweep the ballroom, yours sweep over his face, familiarizing yourself with his features.

He has sharp cheekbones, fair skin, and a pointed nose. His lips are drawn down into the softest frown, and there are bags under his dark eyes. His eyebrow twitches ever so slightly whenever he sees someone he doesn’t like, and he runs a gloved hand through his hair, slicking it back more if it’s possible.

He was beautiful.

After a few more moments of mingling, they prepare to bring the jewelry out on display. You and Kaz back towards the exit, just in case something goes wrong.

The fake one sparkles just the same, and a clear difference can’t be seen. It’s only glass that Wylan had managed to craft by himself.

The servant gulps, taking careful steps with the case in his hand. His hands shake, and as he takes the first step up the stairs, he stumbles.

It shatters.

The glass scatters across the floor, the fake necklace you planted aside does the same, the pieces landing everywhere.

You can practically feel Kaz tense next to you when the crowd gasps; actual diamonds wouldn’t break.

“Don’t move,” Kaz whispers. He makes a hand gesture to the rest of the Dregs around the room that means remain still. “Act just as surprised.”

On any other occasion, it would be easy, but when the original necklace is dangling from your neck, it’s like an open target for anyone with eyes. Murmurs flow through the crowd, but no one pays any mind to the Dregs because you all look like you belong here. They’re looking for the black sheep among the white.

But they all look just the same.

“We will be conducting manual searches,” The guards announce.

“Saints,” You whisper, hand instinctively grabbing the diamonds on your neck.

“Plan B,” Kaz said. He meets Jesper’s eyes across the room, nodding his head, and Jesper smirks. He grabs one of his revolvers, firing a single shot and tucking it away before anyone notices. The crowd screams, everyone rushing to the exits as more shots are fired from various parties (some from Jesper, some from guards, or others who just love chaos).

You all make a run for it, using the main exit where guards were desperately trying to keep everyone in.

You watch Inej slip through with ease, Nina and Mattias next. Jesper gets held up, but he managed to talk his way out of it as Wylan tugs on his sleeve.

You and Kaz are last, taking your time to avoid being pushed in by the crowd. You could run ahead, get out before Kaz, but you don’t.

You stay by his side and maintain the slow pace, even when there’s a quarter of a million kruge hanging from your neck.

As you approach the exit, you’re one foot out when someone grabs your arm.

“I got her!” The guard shouts. He starts dragging you back inside as you try to dig your heel into their foot.

Then, in the span of a second, a cane comes down on his arm, a clear snap ringing out.

You stumble from their grasp, unknowingly using Kaz’s shoulder to steady yourself. He hisses but says nothing more because as soon as you notice, you let go.

“Nina!” You scream as the guards come pouring out the entrance.

It was clear who the target was.

The heartrender holds up her hands, effectively dropping their beat, but you underestimate how many there are.

“Run!” Jesper shouts.

And you do as you’re told. The guards open fire, and you bunch your dress in your hands, running through the streets of Ketterdam. Kaz begins to fall behind, and you slow down your pace.

“Jes, throw me a revolver!”

“What?”

“Throw it!”

Wylan rolls his eyes, fishing the gun from his boyfriend’s pocket and tossing it at you.

“What are you doing?” Kaz said.

“Saving your ass!” You reply.

“I don’t need your saving!” Kaz retorts, glaring at you.

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I’m covering you.”

“I don’t need that either.”

“Kaz-”

“I don’t need you!”

You nod, turning away from him to hide the hurt on your face. “No, of course, you don't."

You fire a single shot at a guard, busying yourself in taking a few out, so Kaz doesn’t get hit. When he’s a good way ahead, you sprint after the rest of the Dregs. You see the tail of Jesper’s coat disappear down an alleyway.

You fire one last round of shots and duck behind it. You move past Kaz, catching up with Jesper and thanking him.

He smiles, bumping your shoulder. “Anything for the lady.”

The slat is in sight, and you sigh in relief, happy to rest and unload all the jewels everyone is dripping in.

You could only imagine the amount of kruge you’d come up with.

Jesper opens the door for the Dregs, and you all practically collapse on the couch. You Nina and Inej are all on one, kicking off your heels.

“I hate heels,” You said.

“You’re telling me,” Inej replied. “Never again.”

Nina shrugs, “Annoying as hell, but they do work in place of a knife every now and then.”

“I am never without my knives.”

“We know.”

Kaz walks past you all, limping a bit worse than usual and going up to his office.

You don’t bother following after him. Instead, you all dump the jewelry on the table.

“Oh, saints,” Inej gasped.

Jesper leans back in his seat, “I think we’re set.”

“You’ll gamble it all away before we even cash it in,” Matthias said as Jesper scoffed.

“It’ll take me at least a few months to lose that.”

“Months?” Wylan asked.

“Like six tops.”

Everyone begins to argue, and you tune them out. You forgot about the most expensive piece hanging from your neck, absentmindedly playing with it. When you remember, you figure the best thing to do with it is give it up to Kaz.

With a sigh, you stand up, the fabric of your dress falling back into place.

You don’t bother knocking on his door, you know you should, but you didn’t care all that much.

“Here’s your necklace,” You said bitterly, dropping it on his desk.

“(Y/N)-”

“A quarter of a million kruge, enough to set you for life. That’s all you need, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure felt like it,” You snap.

“I just-,” Kaz sighed, avoiding your gaze. “Keep the necklace.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You don’t?” Kaz asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought you liked it. You should have it if that’s the case.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

You click your tongue, “Keep the fucking necklace, Kaz.”

Kaz curses himself, tugging at his hair. He was making the situation much worse. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn't piss you off. He thought the necklace would be like a peace offering, a sign of his thanks.

It backfired on him.

He’s bordering the line of being cold or grateful. When grateful didn’t work in his favor, he went for the other.

“I want you to have it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Please, take it.”

“It’s worth money. That’s far more important to both of us.”

Kaz shuts his eyes, “(Y/N), please.”

And you know this isn't about the necklace anymore. It never really was.

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. You were tired of pretending to brush off your feelings. It was killing you. Every time you tried to do something, Kaz pushed you back. You couldn't keep doing this to yourself.

“You either want this, or you don’t. Which one is it?”

“Please,” he said softly.

You sigh, blinking harshly. Your heart hammers in your chest. You take a breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Kaz, I need you,” You said softly, “Please just let me in.”

“I can’t,” He said, voice strained as he fights his demons. God, he wants to, but he's scared. He's scared of pushing you away or hurting either of you in the process. He couldn't go through that kind of loss again.

“I will wait,” You said. “I will wait as long as you need. I just need to know that you’re in this too.”

Kaz meets your eyes. His are glassy as he holds the necklace tightly in his hands, running his gloved fingers over the diamonds.

He could lose you.

And that is far worse than not having you at all.

He slowly peels his gloves off. His movements are slow and deliberate, taking his time. When they’re off, he grabs the necklace and stands up.

You hold your breath as he stands behind you, brushing your hair out of the way. His fingers just barely dance across your skin, but they’re there.

He clasps the necklace, and you turn around to face him.

“Kaz?” You question.

“I need you too, (Y/N).”

“I’m not leaving," You assure him.

“Good. We’re in this.”

“We’re in this.”

[rubysunnday]

stupid in love

request by anon: hey congrats for 2.6k followers, that's so cool!!! I don't know if i'm too late but can i request jesper from shadow and bone x reader with prompt 5? would love for it to be romantic :) congrats again and thank you if you decide to write it!! <3

A/N: is this romantic? no idea but I've been writing this for like a month and I'm beyond done with it so have whatever the fuck this is

warnings: six of crows stuff, blood, swearing, alludes to suicide throughout

"I threw myself out a window for you! What more do you want from me?"

Y/N almost punched him. Him throwing himself out the window was the entire reason she was annoyed at him. It had been terrifying and Y/N had thought Jesper was dead. But Jesper had taken it as another fable to tell the punters - hadn't realised how lucky he was. Y/N glowered at Jesper from across the bar as she poured him another shot.

"Maybe for you to actually pay for these shots?" Y/N asked, sliding the shot glass along the bar top to Jesper.

Jesper picked it up and downed it with one smooth movement. "Ah, it's fine, put it on my tab."

Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged, scribbling down the rapidly growing cost of Jesper's evening. He'd actually only had three shots - the rest had been spread around the entire club in celebration of something or other.

Their last job had been chaotic as usual. Jesper had thrown himself out a window, Kaz had almost gotten shot and they'd blown a few things up. But the image of Jesper falling through a window had stuck with Y/N all night.

The entire reason Y/N had ended up in the Dregs was because of her sister. Her sister, who had gone insane, and leapt off a roof, plummeting to her death in front of Y/N. Every time Y/N relived Jesper falling, she saw him in her sister's place. She saw his body instead of hers.

Which was why, Jesper making jokes about his window-smashing exploits wasn't appreciated at that moment.

"'ello, Y/N," Rotty said jogging up to the bar with a beaming smile, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Evening, Rotty," Y/N called, setting the cleaned glasses on the side. "What can I do for you?"

"Boss wants you," Rotty replied. He gestured over his shoulder at Jesper who was singing a rowdy sea shanty with an arm around a red-haired woman who looked like an actual mermaid. "And him."

"Have you told him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He said 'in a moment'."

"Oh for -" Y/N bought her fingers to her lips and whistled. Loudly.

The entire bar fell silent and everyone turned to stare at her. She pointed at Jesper and then up at Kaz's office door.

"You, upstairs, now," Y/N demanded.

Jesper sighed, grumbling to himself as he slid off the redhead's lap and practically stomped after Y/N as she walked up the stairs.

She paused at the top and looked down at the still silent bar. "Carry on."

The chatter and sound of money being lost quickly restarted. Y/N shut the office door behind her, the noise from downstairs all but disappearing behind the thick, iron door.

Inej was, unsurprisingly, already there. She stood near to Kaz, her hands clasped behind her back with her hood up. As Y/N approached Kaz, he looked up at her and then at Jesper who'd flopped down in a plush armchair near the window.

"Is he drunk?"

"No," Y/N replied, sitting down in the chair Kaz had in front of his desk and crossing her legs. She fanned out her skirt and clasped her hands together in her lap. "He bought shots for everyone in the club but he's only had three."

"Good, I need him sober," Kaz replied. He gave Jesper a cursory glance over his shoulder. "Jesper, come here."

Jesper stood up and skulked over to the desk, leaning over Y/N's head to see what was on the desk. "Is that -"

"Yes."

"And are we -"

"Yes."

Y/N frowned and sat forward, looking at the plans laid out on Kaz's desk. She raised her eyebrows. "The Geldrenner Hotel? Really? What's there."

"You mean who is there," Kaz corrected. He handed Y/N a newspaper cut out featuring a grainy print of a member of the Merchant Council.

"Is that Van Halla?" Y/N asked, squinting at the print. "Isn't he meant to be in Os Alta?"

"He's on holiday and is staying at the Geldrenner with his wife and entourage or fifty," Kaz replied. "And whilst he is here, he's attending the extravagant birthday of Van Eck."

"Oh, I see where this is going," Y/N said, nodding. "I saw the Van Eck birthday present list - what did Halla get?"

"The Millenium Watch."

Three pairs of eyes looked at Kaz with surprise and shock.

"I'm sorry, you want us to steal the Millenium Watch?" Jesper asked, gaping. "One of the most expensive watches in history?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I need a new pocket watch," Kaz said with a shrug.

"And the real reason?" Inej asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I've made a deal with someone - in exchange for the Millenium Watch we get the plans to the Boeksplein."

"And what's there?"

"Need to know."

The three of them scoffed but weren't entirely surprised.

"Now, are you done interrogating me?" Kaz asked. "Because I would like to get on with the job."

'So, here's the plan.'

The hotel was ridiculous grand for the streets of Ketterdam. Granted, it did sit in the middle of the Financial District and was within view of the Stadwatch barracks to avoid any burglaries, heists or assassinations.

It was strictly reserved for the rich and wealthy and the majority of Ketterdam knew they would never be privileged enough to see inside the marbled walls.

And up until now, Y/N had thought herself one of those people.

'Jesper, Y/N, you two will go in disguised as staff. Inej will be on the roof and sneak in through the skylight.'

'And what about you, Kaz?"

"I, darling, Y/N, will be causing a distraction.'

"What do you mean there's no reservation for me?!"

Y/N looked up from the bin she was emptying. Kaz was standing at the front desk, dressed in a - quite frankly ridiculous - outfit, waving his arms around and swearing. A lot. Y/N glanced over at Jesper, a smile pulling on her lips. "I take it that that's the distraction," she whispered.

As Kaz continued to flap his arms like a bird, Y/N and Jesper headed over to the hand-operated elevator. The two of them nodded at the elevator operator.

"Seventh floor, please," Jesper said, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Oh, oh, wait, please!"

A woman, dressed in the ridiculous fashions of the wealthy, bustled into the elevator, dragging about eight different cases and hat boxes with her.

"You," she said, snapping her fingers at Jesper, "take these up to my room - number 754b." The woman turned to Y/N. "Be a dear and take these."

Before Y/N could protest, a black, leather briefcase was pushed into her arms as Jesper was pushed out the door. The elevator operator sighed and began working the elevator up to floor 7.

"I like your dress, ma'am," Y/N said, attempting to break the awkward elevator music.

"Oh, aren't you a dear!" The women cooed. "My husband - Van Halla - bought it for me."

Y/N almost dropped the briefcase.

'What floor is Van Halla staying on?'

'Seventh floor, room 54b, Inej. It's the penthouse and the only room with a skylight.'

'Which is how Inej is getting in. But how are we getting out?'

'Front door, Y/N. If this goes to plan, we'll walk out that hotel through the front door with the watch.'

'And if something goes wrong?'

'Well, then, Jesper, I guess you'd better get acquainted with Hellgate.'

The elevator trundled up to the seventh floor and Y/N traipsed after the woman - who was, apparently, Van Halla's wife - to the penthouse.

As Y/N stepped into the penthouse, one thing went through her mind.

Money does not buy you taste.

And that was coming from someone who lived in the Slat which was, to be fair, held up by sheer terror at what Kaz may do should it collapse.

"Just leave the bags in the bedroom, darling," the woman called, waving a hand to the right.

Y/N hovered awkwardly for a moment, trying to work out where exactly in the cavernous, garishly white and orange room she was pointing to. Eventually, Y/N spotted a double door - bright orange like the cushions on the sofa - and assumed that was the bedroom.

She opened the doors and almost dropped the bags.

The 'bedroom' was bigger than her room. In fact, it was probably bigger than her room, Jesper's room, Kaz's room and Inej's room combined.

"Damn," Y/N muttered, her eyes wide. "What it is to have money, huh?"

Y/N dumped the bags on the floor near the wardrobe and turned to go when a small, black velvet box sat on a table. She paused.

"Do you want me to unpack the bags, ma'am?" Y/N called, quietly approaching the table, trying to get a closer look at the engraved plaque on the top of the box.

"No, no, you're fine!"

Y/N stood in front of the table, her heart pounding. Happy birthday, Van Eck was engraved on the top of the box. Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out an identical box.

'So, we switch the boxes?'

'Thanks to Jesper's hidden talent - no need to roll your eyes, Jesper - we have an exact replica of the watch. Minus a few details, obviously, drawings and sketches only give so much detail.'

'And if we get caught with the watch? Because either way, they'll know something's up.'

'Best not to get caught then, Y/N. However, if for whatever someone isn't at the rendevous, we'll plan something.'

'So reassuring, Kaz.'

'Oh, good, I'm glad, I was concerned I my tone wasn't coming across.'

Y/N glanced out into the main room of the penthouse and quickly switched the boxes, making sure the fake was in the exact same position as the original. She slipped the original into her pocket and stepped out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"If that's all then, ma'am," Y/N said, bowing to the woman.

"Yes, yes, thank you," she said, nodding.

Y/N headed towards the front door when it swung open and a large man, with a red face and a huge moustache, stormed in.

"Excuse me, sir," Y/N said, pressing herself to the wall as he marched past.

The man barely looked at her - he just sniffed.

"Victoria! Why did you not wait for me?" He called.

"You were busy having a go at some man, darling," the woman - Victoria - replied. "Feel better for yelling?"

"Oh, wife, you know me too well."

Y/N quickly left the room before Van Halla started kissing his wife. They were only some things she could cope with.

With the watch secure in her pocket, Y/N made her way back down to the elevator. She spotted Jesper on her way - struggling with the numerous bags Van Halla had apparently abandoned.

Y/N whistled at him and gestured her head, tapping her wrist. Jesper dropped the bags - Y/N was certain she heard something smash - and jogged up to her side.

"You got it?"

"It was surprisingly easy," Y/N whispered as they headed to the elevator. "It was lying there."

The music in the elevator played joyfully as they rode down - Y/N was trying not to bop to the light plinking piano music.

'So, once we've got the watch. How do we get out?'

'No need to point between you and Jesper, Y/N, I knew who you meant. You two will go out the servant's entrance here and meet Inej and I where the carriages are stored.'

'And if things go to shit?'

'Luckily for you, Jesper, I have plans ranging from A all the way to T.'

'What happens if we get to S? Damn, Kaz, no need to glare at me like that, Saints. You could set me on fire!'

'Shut up, Y/N.'

"Never, boss.'

The servant's entrance was quiet and empty which was a blessing for Jesper and Y/N - especially since Y/N could feel the watch box beginning to metaphorically burn a hole in her coat.

A guard was sat in the chair by the door, intently reading a book. He looked up as they approached and smiled.

"Ah, hello!" He said, standing up. "Right, let's do this quickly, shall we? I'm at a good point in my book. So, you know and I know this but I have to state it again for rules - I have to search you as you come in and out the building since we have numerous Merchants staying here. We don't want anything expensive to get stolen since we can't afford a lawsuit!" He clapped his hands. "So, which one of you wants to get searched first?"

Y/N and Jesper shared a look.

"I'll go first," Y/N volunteered, stepping forward and holding her arms out.

The guard patted her down, humming joyfully as he did so. "Perfect! And you, sir?"

Jesper stepped forward but tripped over the leg of the chair, knocking the chair over and jogging the table and knocking a vase over.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Jesper exclaimed, kneeling down to pick up the vase.

"Oh, it's fine, I do it all the time," the guard said, smiling. "Anyhoo."

Jesper set the vase on the table and lifted his arms. "You know, this isn't usually how I like to begin."

The guard looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, smiling. "No?"

"No. I prefer a more intimate setting."

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed. She cleared her throat pointedly and Jesper winked at the guard, stepping aside.

"Seriously?" Y/N hissed as they walked down the side street to the garage at the back.

"It worked, didn't it?" Jesper replied.

"Oi!"

Jesper turned with a smile on his face, fully expecting it to be the previous guard. Except it wasn't. A sterner looking guard was marching towards them both with a glare in his eyes.

"The idiot back there forgot to ask for your papers," he snapped. "Papers. Now."

'What happens if we need papers to get in and out?'

'I've thought about that.'

'And?'

'Well, best get running. And try to avoid bullets.'

'Why did I expect anything else from you, Kaz?'

Jesper's hand brushed against Y/N's as he stepped forward, communicating silently the plan.

Which consisted of nothing more than run.

"We forgot our papers," YN said smoothly.

The guard raised his eyebrows. "Well, then I can't let you leave until I've contacted your supervisor. You'll have to come with me."

As the man reached out to grab Y/N's wrist, she grabbed his arm, and using all her strength, flipped him over her back and into the floor.

"Go!" Y/N yelled, shoving Jesper up the hill as she ran down it.

Y/N leapt over the guard and ran down the street, the steep gradient speeding her up. The garage was at the other end of the street - up the hill where Jesper had gone - but Y/N knew the guard would be chasing after her.

For a moment, all Y/N could hear was her pounding heartbeat, her vision bouncing up and down as she ran. And then a gunshot cracked out.

Y/N stumbled forward and then darted to the right, hiding in a bush in someone's garden as she panted. She kept quiet as she heard the guard stop right in front of her bush. Y/N didn't allow herself to relax until the guard swore loudly and jogged back up the hill.

Y/N leant her head back against the wall behind her and felt tears well in her eyes as she pressed a hand to her stomach. The bullet had gone through her back and out through her stomach. There was so much blood and the pain was overwhelming - almost blinding.

But, Y/N forced herself out of the bush and to her feet. There was a back alley with a set of stairs leading up to the garage - a very steep set of stairs, mind.

Step by step, Y/N climbed up the stairs, tightly holding onto the handrail as she climbed. Thankfully, the row of expensive-looking carriages was at the top of the stairs and Y/N's knees nearly buckled with relief when she saw the familiar slim shape of Inej.

"Inej," Y/N gasped, falling forwards onto her knees.

Inej ran over to Y/N, her feet silent on the cobbles. She knelt down next to her and held Y/N up with a hand on her uninjured side. "What happened?"

"Oh, turns out we need papers to get out," Y/N grunted, hissing with pain as Inej pressed a black handkerchief - that looked suspiciously like the one Kaz carried - against her front wound.

"Where's Jesper?"

"No idea. Where's Kaz?"

"No idea."

"Excellent, at least we're on the same - ow - page," Y/N inhaled sharply, her hand flying to grab Inej's arm as a wave of pain tossed her into a rock. "Saints."

"It went straight through, thankfully, so I think if we stitch it when we get back and keep it clean -"

"I'll live to get shot another day?" Y/N quipped, smiling despite the sheer amount of pain she was in. "I hope one of them appears with a carriage soon."

Inej kept a steady hand on Y/N's side, keeping her propped up on her knees as she tied a scarf around her waist, covering both wounds.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, her head resting against Inej's shoulder.

"For what?" Inej asked, frowning. "For saving your life? Again? Because I'd do that even if you'd pissed me off."

A breath of laughter escaped Y/N's lips as she lifted her head. "No. Just for being here. Jesper and I..."

"I know," Inej said quietly. "Does he know?"

"About what? About how I had to watch him fall out a third storey window, not knowing if he was alive or dead? To have to cope with the mental images I have of his broken, bleeding body lying in the streets only to be thrown onto the Reaper's Barge? To know that every time I close my eyes I see Jesper where my sister was? I see Jesper jumping off the roof and plummeting instead of her? I see him staring back at me with glassy eyes and a broken neck and bleeding and -"

"Ok, ok, calm down," Inej shushed, putting a hand on the back of Y/N's head. Y/N sobbed, burying her face into the crook of Inej's neck. She cried for her dead sister, for the fact Jesper was at times an oblivious idiot and for the fact her side really fucking hurt.

"Inej I just keep seeing him lying there," Y/N sobbed. "I know he's fine but I -"

"I know, Y/N, I know," Inej said softly, stroking her hair back. She gently took her face between her hands. "But he is not your sister. Ok? Now, come on we need to get you standing."

Y/N managed to get her feet underneath her and with help from Inej, she was soon standing up - albeit a bit wobbly. Inej kept a hand on Y/N's arm, the physical contact keeping them both going as they waited for Kaz and Jesper.

Not even a minute later, a carriage rolled down the street with Kaz and Jesper in the driver's seat.

"Don't tell Jesper," Y/N said suddenly, panic in her voice.

Inej nodded. "I won't."

Kaz's dark eyes looked Y/N up and down as Jespe halted the horses to a stop. "Trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Y/N replied, trying to hide her wince of pain as she tried to stand straighter.

"Inej?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. Kaz had quickly caught on to the fact she often downplayed her pain when injured, so he often asked literally anyone else.

"Through and through - she'll be fine if get back soon," Inej replied.

"Good, on you get."

Y/N climbed inside the carriage, sinking into the velvet green seat with a sigh of relief. Inej hovered by the open door before eventually coming to a decision.

"I'll be up front if you need me," she said softly, knowing that Y/N needed a moment alone.

Y/N had never been so grateful that Inej was her best friend. The carriage doors shut, and with the curtains pulled over the windows, it was blissfully dark. Y/N closed her eyes and relaxed as best she could - she kept a hand tightly pressed over Inej's scarf and her wound.

She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until someone tapped her knee. Y/N jumped and opened her eyes to Jesper staring at her with eyes full of concern.

"You alright?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Y/N... why are you acting strange?"

"I'm not."

Jesper sat down opposite her as the carriage resumed moving. "You are. Ever since the last job you've been acting weird."

Y/N shrugged. "Sorry."

Jesper frowned. "Is this about the last job? Look, I didn't actually fall out a window for you..."

Jesper's words faded away as Y/N's mind was filled with the memory of Jesper falling. And then it wasn't Jesper it was her sister again. And then it was Inej. And even Kaz. Over and over again they were falling and falling and falling.

"Stop the carriage!"

The carriage had barely stopped before Y/N practically threw herself outside, her side screaming in protest at the sudden movement. She didn't give anyone a second glance as she moved off the open road and down into the hedgerow. There was a small river running through the field near them - one that leads into the Ketterdam canals - and Y/N fell to her knees on the banks of it, plunging her hands into the water.

Stupid, so, so stupid. It had been years since her sister had died and just when Y/N thought she'd moved on, Jesper pushed her back miles and miles.

Y/N leant forward, leaning on her hands as she stared down at the water, her knees getting wet as she knelt in the wet grass. She heard a twig snap and sighed. "I'm fine, Jesper, just leave me alone."

"Flattered that you thought I was Jesper, but alas," Kaz said, standing behind her.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Kaz. "Sorry, I'll be back in a minute."

Kaz was silent for a minute. "When the memory overwhelms you, find something to ground you. The feeling of something, the sound of something, even. It helps drown it out."

Y/N nodded, sniffing softly. She grunted as she got to her feet, her hand pressed to her side. A quick glance down and she saw red but not too much. "Sorry."

"Trauma doesn't apologise," Kaz said roughly, turning around and heading back up the hill. "So why should you?"

Y/N chuckled to herself. She spotted Jesper at the top of the hill, pacing nervously as Inej tried to calm him down. It took Y/N only a few seconds to decided what to do.

"Jesper, come here," Y/N called, waving him over.

He jogged over to her and his hands were instantly on her shoulders - almost as if he was holding her together. "I'm sorry -"

"Don't be, Jesper," Y/N said softly. She placed her hand over his and rubbed a circle on the back of his hand. "My sister went insane and jumped off a roof when I was fourteen. When I saw you fall out the window... I saw her. She landed in front of me and I stared at her dead, broken body, unable to comprehend what had happened. So, when you fell... I felt like I was fourteen again. And the fact you kept joking about it didn't help. It was nothing you did, Jesper. It's my own trauma rearing its head and wanting to take me down again. I just..."

"I understand," Jesper said softly, his eyes gentle and caring as he looked at her. "And I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Trauma doesn't apologise so why should we?"

Kaz, who was trying not to listen, smirked to himself. He tapped the side of the carriage with the head of his cane. "Come on, lovebirds, we need to move."

Y/N turned back to Jesper and smile, despite her heart aching. "All I ask, Jesper, is if you could maybe carry me back to the carriage because I really hurt right now."

Jesper laughed. "Of course I can, love."

[coweye]

Guys My Age - PT.1

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x Miller!Reader Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: After four years away, you return home to realise that maybe everything you’ve been looking for was right in front of you all along.

Warnings: Mention of depression, Slow burn - no smut yet but it will eventually be horrifically filthy 18+ only pls gang, LEGAL Age Gap. 

Note: This bad bois been worming its way to the surface for a while now, hope you enjoy! 💕 I apologise in advance for the slow burn.

⇢MASTERLIST

Life was strange sometimes.

Here you were, back in the hometown you’d sworn never to return to after four years away, flanked by your older brother Benny. 

Two thirds of the Miller gang back together, reunited or at least you had been.

“I’ma get us a table, you order the drinks.” Ben muttered distractedly whilst scouting out potential tables.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be destitute, the least you could do is get the first round in.” The sad thing is, you’re only half joking. He rolled his eyes at your expense, before handing you his credit card and continued on his journey to get a table, presumably with a great view of the blonde woman he’d spotted upon entry to the bar. Benny was predictable if nothing else, it was part of his charm. 

So, you pushed your way forward through the throng of warm bodies, Friday night at Flanagans was a nightmare but you had agreed to be sociable as Santiago was in town, so you’d made the sacrifice and took a night off from your crushing depression to don a nice t-shirt and apply makeup for the first time in the two weeks since moving into Will’s back room.

You smiled what you hoped was a somewhat friendly lift of your lips at the bartender and ordered two beers, as you were waiting you heard the familiar call of Santiago Garcia - the man who you’d spent your teen years obsessed with. 

He was gorgeous inside and out, though your crush had morphed into something a lot more wholesome and you had a genuine platonic love for the man, as an extension of your brothers.

“How have you been, guapa? God, long time no see!” He all but cried, clearly already a couple of beers in as wrapped you in a strong hug, pulling you onto your tiptoes. He wasn’t lying, you hadn’t seen Santiago in two maybe three years ago now. 

Time had gotten away from you and your visits had become less and less frequent, especially with the boys being deployed, you couldn’t say you were happy to be back, but it was certainly nice to see them all again.

“I know, damn, you got old!” You chuckle as his face straightens out in feigned hurt. “Like fine wine, Santi, Fine wine!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stop flirting, you two.” Will grumbles as he slides through the crowd to lean on the bar beside you, lifting three fingers up to the bartender who had already placed the pints of beer before you. 

“Where have you been?” You question raising an eyebrow “I’ve been back at least two weeks.”

“I’ve been in Australia for a little while, it's nothing serious but-”

“Pope’s got a girlfriend now, Squirt.” The low voice is a new one, but only one person used to call you that awful nickname. 

You turn to see Francisco Morales behind you, his eyes are older than the rest of him but still irrevocably kind and he has an easy smile painted on his lips. You can’t quite remember him being this handsome as your eyes drink him in, perhaps you’d been blinded by the effortless beauty of Santiago as a teen but my god, Catfish had almost floored you. 

“Frankie!” You smile - all teeth, trying somewhat successfully for an air of normalcy despite your brain processing the change that five years has had on your taste in men and pulling him in for his own hug. 

You tried to stop yourself, you honestly did but as you breathed in, the smell of him overtook you, the spicy scent of cinnamon and sweet vanilla; the man somehow smelled like a goddamn cupcake and you had the biggest sweet tooth. 

Locking your inner sex offender deep down inside a box so as to not assault the man you’d held in a hug for what was becoming longer than appropriate, you pulled away. 

“A girlfriend?” You question, your brain scrambling for something to talk about other than those brown eyes. You can’t help the smirk that sneaks its way across your lips as you tease the man before you. “Santiago Garcia, have you gone soft on me in your old age?”

He huffs as he grabs his beer. “Fuck off, baby Miller.” 

The three of you chortle in response to his defeated tone as he walks towards the table Ben has secured. Will grabs at his wallet, hand coming out to stop you in confusion when you hold out a card to pay. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Ben’s treat.” 

That kills any argument on his tongue as he picks up his drink and follows Santi’s lead. You can’t help but chuckle at your brothers, you had missed them both so much. 

You’re very quickly aware of Frankie lingering to your left, waiting for you to finish paying, ever the gentleman. 

You turn to him as the machine processes the transaction. 

“Your-”

“How-” You both chuckle, the two of you have always been the quiet ones of the group, more observant with witty one liners thrown in than the loud mouths currently chatting at your table. 

It seems years apart haven’t helped either of your awkwardness.

“You go…” You dismiss with a quick laugh when he waits for you to speak.

“I was just gonna say, it's nice to have you back!” He shrugged before gesturing to side of him “After you,” 

Frankie creates a barrier with his body for your fellow thirsty patrons who want your spot at the bar. You pick up yours and Bens drinks and turn to find the guys. 

Frankie’s hand finds your lower back as he guides you through, its innocuous enough, hell if you hadn’t been drooling over the man minutes before you wouldn’t have given it so much as a second thought, but that palm guarding you from the brunt of the crowd was like molten lava slowly burning your flesh. 

“W-Well, it’s good to be back! I’m not going anywhere in a hurry!” You pretty much shout over the deafening ambient chatter around you. His low voice is in your ear when he replies, you force yourself not to close the distance and push your spine into his chest, Frankie isn’t like that; Hell, he has a girlfriend and baby at home.

He’s just being friendly - he’s known you since you were seventeen. 

“You miss your friends back home?”

“They’re not my friends. None of those assholes let me sleep on their goddamn sofas.” Trying to break the tension only you seemed to be feeling with a joke, it seems to work as he chortles.

“Well you’re more than welcome to my sofa if Will ever gets too much, Squirt.” You couldn’t explain the things that this man saying the word squirt to you was doing. No matter the context, even if it was because you squirted slurpee from your nose when laughing too hard when you were a teenager. 

“I may hold you to that - he bit my head off the other day because I didn’t wash a glass the second I used it, I swear-” You’re cut off when you find the booth rather quickly, the raucous laughter from the rangers acting as a siren call.  You slide in beside Ben and turn to your other brother “-I was just telling Frankie, how much of a control freak you are.”

And because God hates you, Francisco slides in beside you. 

…

You were a grown woman and you had a ridiculous infatuation.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying either, after sitting in that bar you had made an effort to block out the sensation of his thigh against your own or when he leaned back against the plush fabric and wrapped his arm around the back of the booth.

But so help you god you were only human, you couldn’t help but laugh a little harder at his jokes than the others or the warmth that flooded your belly when you’d meet his eyes as you told a story and find his chocolate orbs transfixed on you as if you were telling a great tale - rather than an anecdote about how you dislocated your tailbone last year when you were drunk on some stairs.

It wasn’t even as if it was just his looks - though you were big enough to admit that initially that had been a large part of it.  It was the ease you felt around him, the kindness you could see clear as day painted on his face. 

Though you knew, deep down in your toxic heart of hearts, buried beneath your daddy issues and depression, this deep desire was because he wasn’t all that interested. 

It wasn’t as if he ignored you, no. He was friendly, but he had no interest in you besides just that, being a friend. 

He had a baby and a girlfriend and you weren’t a home wrecker.

He was your brother's best friend, an extension of your family. 

These were all things you reminded yourself about as you lay in bed alone staring up at the ceiling the morning after.

You could just be his friend, right?

⇢ Next Part

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Seven]

Summary: An unexpected attack cuts the final tethers of restraint for Poe and the reader.

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, mentions of attempted assault, choking, injury description (note RED cuts to skip past uncomfortable parts if preferred), Smut—PiV, fingering, squirting, oral. W— +14K.

A/N: If there was ever a chapter I would beg for feedback/thoughts, this is it. Please tell me you like it. Oh god, soothe my worried mind.

It was tempting, the urge to roll your eyes as the man before you moved to stand too close. You smirked, waiting to see if he was serious in his attempt to corner you or if he would scamper off the moment you pulled your knife from your thigh holster where it was hidden beneath your dress.

There was a darkness in his gaze that made your hand twitch at your side, and here you had thought Canto Bight would be relatively uneventful. But it appeared you caught his eye and your disguise as just another casino patron worked because he had followed you unexpectedly into the foyer off of the main ballroom, where you had gone to wait for Poe and Temmin to return.

The three of you were here for intel promised by a very wealthy ally, so dressing the part was important for blending in with the privileged crowds. You were sure the man before you thought you weak enough to bully, a rich girl he could take advantage of.

You were annoyed, wishing you’d gone with Poe instead of Temmin, that you hadn’t offered to keep watch for any signs of your enemies because you felt you were the least suspicious of the three of you. BB8 stayed with you, but when you’d seen the man following you over your shoulder you told the droid to hide and it had zipped behind a potted plant in the corner of the foyer, beeping coyly.

You had first assumed he was a guard, perhaps about to tell you that you were in the wrong place if you were looking for a fresher, but when he stepped around you and blocked your path you quickly realized he was something else entirely. His suit, you could tell now from close up, was immensely expensive and he reeked of cologne.

There were two hallways over his shoulder, one which Poe and Temmin had gone down to meet with the contact, and the other which branched off to various parts of the greater building. Both were quiet, and so you knew not to expect any sudden interruptions that might save you the trouble of having to incapacitate the man.

But, you could easily handle one lone wolf who bit off more than he could chew.

Which was why it came as a very great surprise to you when you felt another presence behind you, but before you could do more than stiffen you felt pressure against your spine; a second man had snuck in and was pressing a knife to you. Now you understood that the first man wasn’t blocking your path; he was distracting you.

So less of a lone wolf, more of a predator with a partner. Bile rose in your throat and you glared at the man in front of you. He smirked now, taking another step toward you so that both men were almost pressed up against you, sandwiching you between them. “You’re a pretty little number.” He hissed, one hand shooting out to grab your throat.

You wanted to fight, but the knife at your back was a heavy warning of what could happen and you knew you needed to play your cards right. No pun intended. You’d been cornered before, of course, but always by First Order officers. Rich men who wanted what they couldn’t have were not on your list of experiences before this, and you wondered how best to deal with them.

“Fuck you,” You seethed, and the hand at your neck tightened fractionally. More of a threat than anything else.

His words though were a clear threat. “No, we’ll fuck you, doll.”

The way they got you onto the floor, the ease and swiftness of it, told you they’d done this together before. It sickened you, made fury rise inside of you and you wanted nothing more than to pull the knife from your holster and drive it into the hand at your throat. You made a noise, a growl, and the man with the knife finally spoke up.

“She’s a wild one, probably best to knock her out.”

You were going to kill them. Whatever happened, their blood would be soaking into this plush carpet before the end of the night. The first man moved so that he was straddling your chest, his weight on his hunches, and grinned down at you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun and be on our way. We aren’t going to hurt you so long as you don’t struggle.” He immediately contradicted himself when the hand at your throat tightened, pressing at the sides in a way that cut off airflow without completely crushing your throat. They wanted you to pass out.

You went limp, conserving your energy as you scowled up at the man. The reality of your situation was now enough to cause panic to bubble up; Poe and Temmin hadn’t been gone long. The contact would invite them for a drink, chat with them briefly before passing along the intel. They would find you here, after.

No, that couldn’t happen. It would kill Poe, and he wouldn’t be able to leave until he found the men. You whimpered, black spots started to dance in your vision and you saw, from the corner of your eye, a blur of orange and white zoom down the hallway your squadmates had ventured not long ago.

The second man was already getting excited, his free hand brushing over your face, touching your lips. Even without any air coming in, you tried to bite him. He jerked his finger back, cursing, and the man holding your throat threw his head back to laugh loudly, the pressure releasing in his distraction. You think he started to tease the other man, but everything was confusing now and instincts overtook your body, pulling in air-too much air, too quickly.

Scream.

Yes, you needed to scream. One good, long one that someone would hear, or at least loud enough to scare them off of you in case someone did come looking for the source. You kept pulling in air and it was painful your vision blurring, and you think you were about to pass out. Faces appeared in your mind. Two very distinct, very familiar faces; Charlie and Poe. Your protectors, your family, your love.

Just like that, you had what you needed to find the strength to scream.

It came out in one long, very loud wail, the sound of it echoing off of the walls and back to you before you passed out.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

+

The Martell family moved off, having given their words of sorrow and sympathy, and Charlie tightened the arm he had secured around his mother’s shoulders. She was the strong, silent type like him; whereas you always took after dad. He was keeping close to mom today, providing her with the support she needed and knowing that you were being well taken care of by the one person who could provide the tender love you required.

Charlie glanced around the room as mom took a sip of water, seeking you in the crowd. His eyes landed on Dad's green armchair in the corner, where you were curled up in Poe’s lap, face pressed into his neck as you shook with sobs. He could see his best friend whispering to you, his hand rubbing up at down your back, no doubt repeating words of comfort. He must have felt Charlie’s gaze, his eyes flicking up suddenly before he smiled sadly.

In many ways, it was a beautiful thing to behold the love which you and Poe had for one another. Even as young as you all were, no one could doubt or question that you were both made for one another-except, of course, for yourselves.

Charlie could almost be jealous if he hadn’t spent years around you and seen how natural it seemed to come to you both. He couldn’t be angry that his best friend loved you so deeply, that he knew what to do to comfort you, to care for you, knew when it was needed without Charlie even needing to ask. Hell, even dad had noticed, mentioned it to Charlie during that last visit...

Dad was smiling at Charlie, who sat in the chair next to his bed in the medical facility. It was a nice private room, the kind that the staff made a little homier because it was where the terminal patients came to live out their last days. Mom had taken you and Poe with her to get tea in the nearby lounge, leaving Charlie alone with dad one last time. He sighed, admitting to dad now that they were alone that it didn’t feel fair to lose his father at sixteen. And you were barely fourteen!

Dad chuckled sadly, “I want to stay more than you know, son. I have to tell you, Charlie, that I’m already more than proud of who you are and I know you’ll continue to be a remarkable person. I told your sister the same, but she’s still young, she’ll need more reminders,” Dad paused to take a breath and Charlie waited patiently, taking hold of one of his hands. “I know you’ll always take care of her, put her before anything else. Even the fight, it comes second to her. Though I expect you’ll have help. Wish I could have been around to see those two get married one day.”

Charlie grinned, “You noticed them too?” His father nodded, eyes bright despite the sickness. “How could anyone not, I suppose. Except them.” Charlie added, rolling his eyes fondly.

Dad laughed again, “They’ll realize it when they’re ready. You’re all too young for love anyway,” He joked, giving Charlie a mock stern look. “Just make sure that whatever they do, you focus on your own happiness too, son.”

He squeezed Charlie’s hand weakly, he smiled at his father, “I promise I’ll take care of her, dad. And mom, she’ll need me more.” Dad nodded, his eyes a little wet but so filled with love that Charlie could only stare at him for a few minutes before continuing. “You want me to beat him up when they do finally kiss, though?”

Another weak laugh, followed by a wink, and then Charlie spent a few more minutes talking with his dad for the last time, before eventually mom, you and Poe filtered back in.

He felt a lot of love and joy despite the fucking misery of it, until Dad's eyes slipped shut the final time and you all kissed him before stepping out to leave mom alone with the nurse. You were wrapped around Charlie, who had carried you out of the room, and he passed you over to Poe, asking his friend to take you home while he took care of mom. Poe pressed his forehead to Charlie’s before doing just that, his own eyes leaking tears.

Now, Charlie wondered if Poe had stopped touching you since that day. Perhaps he simply switched between carrying you and keeping his arm around your shoulders, anchoring you down in safety and love, letting you grieve while keeping you from falling too far into the darkness.

Poe met his eyes across the room, wordlessly asking ‘do you need me?’ And Charlie smiled back, shaking his head. Because Poe was already doing exactly what he needed him to, cooing softly in your ear as you trembled and cried quietly, protecting you while Charlie held up his mother and in turn, she held him up, thanking him for being strong, for loving so hard.

Charlie thought he could love as much as he wanted, it would still never compare to the love between Poe and you. It made him smile.

+

Poe was walking with Temmin at his side, the contact leading them through the extravagant hallways to the room where their source would pass over the intel promised to the Resistance. Intel that could help track down a man that had something the General needed. He was an ally to the Resistance, not a neutral or ‘for profit’ type but a true ally who pushed through funds for them as much as intel. Coming in person to the casino he owned, dressed to the nines in finery that felt foreign, sitting over a glass of champagne-it was the least they could do.

And Poe had to admit, the moment you’d stepped out of the fresher on the small ship Black squad had taken to come to Canto Bight, he’d become gleeful over the necessity to dress up. Because you were gorgeous, dazzlingly so in a golden, glittering dress, your legs bare, hair styled loose, a touch of make-up on your face. He thought you were so beautiful, and he wanted to tell you but didn’t trust himself to say it right, so he’d grinned before turning away and letting out a low whistle. Calling ‘looking good, sweetheart’ over his shoulder.

They were approaching a large, ornate door that the man leading them gestured toward, indicating their contact was on the other side. Poe thanked him for his help, but before he could move the final steps to the door a familiar sound suddenly entered the hall; BB8 was zooming towards him, beeping frantically.

Exchanging a curious look with Temmin, Poe dropped down to one knee as the droid rolled to a stop before him. Despite Poe’s fluency in binary, he was only catching words due to the panicked, too-fast rate at which the droid communicated. He gathered ‘attack’ and ‘knife’ and wondered if BB8 was telling him you had stabbed someone.

It wouldn’t have been the first time on a mission you’d done so.

“Buddy, slow down, I can’t understand you,” Poe hushed the droid, “Say it again, slower.”

The droid repeated itself, slowly.

Poe was moving before he finished. “Captain, go in without me. BB8, stay with him.” He ordered over his shoulder. He heard Temmin’s worried affirmative reply. And then he was running, faster than he had in his entire existence, blood roaring in his ears. Poe ran because the message was clear.

You were being attacked.

And he didn’t like how BB8 had phrased it, saying you ‘couldn’t breathe'. He didn’t know if he was about to find you with Storm Troopers or undercover First Order fighters, but regardless being unable to breathe didn’t sound like their usual treatment of suspected Rebels. It only drove him to run faster through the twisting hallway, forgetting his expensive clothing or even the importance of remaining undercover, his focus solely on you now.

You had offered to stay behind. Because it was the best option, and Canto Bight was an easy enough place to blend in. So who had made you?

Poe half expected to round the final corner up ahead and find you waiting for him with your enemy incapacitated, or otherwise in a standoff he would have to join in on the fight with.

He never expected anything like what was about to happen.

Before he reached the end of the hall, an ear-splitting shriek filled the air and Poe’s veins turned to ice, his breath catching.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

You had never made a sound like that before in your life, and blind, all-consuming rage overtook every facet of Poe’s being-whoever, whatever, made you scream like that was about to fucking die. He came tearing around the corner and his eyes fell on the most gut-wrenching, heart-stopping sight-you, laying still on the floor as a man straddled your chest, one hand wrapped around your throat. A second man stood next to you; both men had their backs to Poe and appeared to be watching you...

Were you dying? Dead?

They didn’t hear Poe coming, neither of them even turned around when he pulled the knife from the inner pocket of his jacket and leapt at the standing man. He slit his throat without thought, already looking toward the man still straddling you, who had released his hold on your neck to peer around curiously. He looked just in time to see his friend collapse to the floor, had enough time to jump back in fear, mouth opening in horror.

It didn’t matter, though. His futile attempt to block Poe only served to aid his aim, so that the knife he slashed out could be thrust down and into the soft flesh between his collarbone and throat. Poe snarled, slamming him back into the wall to ensure he didn’t fall onto you, before yanking the knife out and finishing him off with a firm swipe of the blade over his throat, cutting through the tendons and blinking when a spray of blood landed on him.

Stashing the knife back into his pocket and glancing up at the closed door, Poe stumbled forward and dropped to his knees next to you, adrenaline coursing through his body and keeping his hand steady as he sought out your pulse point. He could already see bruising bleeding over the soft skin of your throat, darkening it, and he felt his rage ebb away into a panic so severe that he almost missed the steady beat of your heart.

“Oh fuck,” He gasped out, a modicum of relief seeping through the panic. He scooped you up quickly, spinning around and making his way toward the hallway opposite the one he’d just come from. He groaned when he realized he wasn’t sure where to go, which door led to an exit-you had the entire place memorized. But you were breathing steadily in his arms, still passed out, and Poe needed to follow his gut on this because you’re life depended on him getting you to the safety of the ship.

He couldn’t cut through the casino, so he opted to simply try each door in the hall ahead until one of them lead to a room with a window he could climb out of. Kare was waiting on the ship, he could send her in as backup once he was out. It was the second door that he shouldered through that lead to him gasp in relief-it led onto a patio, on the ground floor. He glanced around, confirming no one was in sight before tearing off at a run, holding you tight in his arms. Everything was happening in such a blur.

He tapped on his comm, “Kare! Please tell me we have bacta shots on the ship.”

Her voice crackled through in alarm, “What’s happened? We only have spray-“

“Shit!” He growled, “I’m coming back with the Major-she was attacked, get out the medkit and prepare to head to the casino and wait outside for Temmin, he needs to have a backup-“

“You got it, Commander!” She replied swiftly before the line went dead and he knew she’d have switched over to Temmin’s channel to give him the update.

When Poe boarded the ship a few minutes later, Kare was waiting at the top of the ramp and gasped at the sight of you in his arm, passed out. She paused, eyes on Poe “Whose blood is that, Commander?”

“It’s not hers,” Poe replied, setting you down on the only bed the tiny ship had and picking up the medical kit Kare had left out for him, “I killed two men. Make sure Temmin and BB8 get back here with the intel, I’ll have the ship ready to depart.” She confirmed she heard him before running down the ramp and out of sight.

Poe set to work quickly, first tugging a rolled blanket from the end of the bed and covering you with it, then seeking out your pulse to confirm it was still beating steadily. He then uncapped the bacta spray and gently tilted your head back; exposing your heavily bruised throat, and carefully opening your mouth.

“Oh my sweet girl,” He sobbed out, first spraying into your open mouth so that the spray would drip down into your throat and reduce the swelling, then again to the outside skin. It would help, he comforted himself, “My sweet, sweet girl, I’m here. I’ve got you, please, please be okay.” He pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he stroked your hair gently off of your face, waiting for the spray to do its work. He thinks he kept talking, while his eyes watched your face, every second torture until he saw movement behind your eyelids.

“Mmm,” You moaned out a strangled sound, your face tightening as you registered the pain. Your eyes suddenly snapped open and he saw panic flash there, a fear he’d never seen on your face before that shattered his heart right in his chest.

“Baby,” He whispered, bringing his face over yours so you could see him clearly, “It’s me, I’ve got you, sweet girl. We’re on the ship, we’re safe.” He promised you, dropping his hand to hold yours under the blanket. You gazed at him for a second, then dropped your eyes to search over him and he glanced down, realizing he was...still covered in blood.

“Ah-okay?” You wheezed, your voice was scratchy, but your brows pinched together in an expression that cleared up your meaning.

“I’m fine,” He assured you, leaning down at pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t try to speak until we get you looked at, okay? Does anything else hurt?”

He drew back to watch your face, but you shook your head slightly to indicate you were okay. He cupped your cheeks then, needing to touch you, to feel you alive and warm under his now trembling fingers. You noticed his shaky hands, one of your own coming out from beneath the blanket to reach up and stroke his jaw.

A shuddering, retched sob tore out of him as you did this familiar comforting gesture, attempting to ease his pain when you were the one that had been harmed. Tears no longer threatened, but spilled from his eyes as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, “My sweet girl, y-you scared me, there, thought I-I-“ He broke off, unable to even say the words. You kept caressing his jaw, the motion soothing to you as well, he gathered from the expression on your face. “I killed them. Both.” He admitted. You responded by merely widening your eyes slightly, then shutting them in understanding.

He watched you for a few moments, then let his own eyes shut as he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to yours, trying to reign in his emotions so that he could get the ship ready to go home. He pulled back when you attempted to speak again, your voice a little clearer thanks to the spray.

“L-love you.”

Poe ran his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the tears that spilled, “I love you,” He replied, turning his head and pressing his lips to your hand, “So, so much, my lovely girl.”

+

When Tahla had first walked onto the ship after Temmin and Kare had successfully landed back on base at D’Qar, his expression was so fraught with concern you’d squeaked a little from your spot on the bed, wanting to tell him you were fine despite your voice box rejecting the attempt. Poe had disappeared into the cockpit with Temmin and Kare when they finally boarded the ship on Canto Bight, BB8 in tow, and you think he must have overstated your injury when he’d called into base.

“Well, that sounded extraordinarily wretched, let me take a look,” Tahla joked, his features relaxing, and he sat at your side on the bed. Poe was behind you now, his body acting as your pillow, a comforting position he’d taken up the moment the ship landed and the rest of Black team had departed to get the intel to the General. “This is going to be uncomfortable, but try not to make noise, okay?” His eyes were on Poe when he spoke at first, dropping to you when he posed the question. You nodded your understanding and decided to lose yourself in thought as he gently started feeling along your throat.

When you first came to, the only thing you had been aware of was the pain in your throat. You’d felt movement at your side and panicked, thinking you were still under attack, only when you opened your eyes you instead met the most heart-wrenching sight of your life; Poe covered in blood, looking down at you pale and panicked, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing him like that hurt worse than the pain in your throat, though that was certainly in a strong second place.

When he admitted he killed the men, you regretted only that you hadn’t been able to fight them off yourself, or at least been able to help him take them down. You didn’t want all of that to sit on his shoulders. You comforted yourself at the moment by telling him you loved him, testing the words on your tongue, despite knowing he would take them at their usual meaning and not how you truly meant them now.

But you could wait a little longer to tell him properly.

“Alright, Major. The good news is that you’re going to be okay and the spray will combat any long-term damage to your vocal cords,” Tahla was looking into your mouth now, a light shining in his hand as he inspected your throat. “Bad news is that I can’t administer a Bacta shot this far into the injury, so you’ll have to allow it to heal on its own over the next couple of days.”

“F-fuck.” You stammered, and Poe’s hands, which were clasping your shoulders, tightened fractionally in response. A silent, loving, admonishment. Tahla laughed, stowing away his light before giving you a final once over.

His eyes moved up, meeting Poe’s instead, “That’s not your blood, right?”

“No,” Poe replied, his voice quiet, “No. I killed them. BB8 found me, told me (y/n) was being attacked. They were...I didn’t hesitate.”

Fuck, he sounded so dark and haunted, you wanted to take away his worry, take away whatever memories he had now from the attack. You were tired though, your eyes beginning to droop now that you were home and safe and in the clear of any permanent damage. Tahla gave Poe a nod that suggested his approval over Poe’s handling of the men who attacked you, his eyes darkening for a moment, and then your eyes closed completely.

Poe’s hands immediately moved, adjusting you in his arms. How he was able to tell you were ready to sleep you’d never know. He was lifting you before you could even consider offering to just walk since your legs worked just fine. But you let yourself curl into his hold instead, your face pressing into his neck. He began to walk and you let the gentle motions soothe you further, lulling you towards sleep.

Tahla spoke from somewhere behind your head, where he walked next to Poe, “I’m going to give her a few days off, pull her from the field for a week minimum-I’ll check on her in five days, see if her voice is good enough for the field.”

“Listen, man, thank you for coming. I know it’s overstepping to demand a specific Healer-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Tahla interrupted, “I’m glad you did ask for me. Scared the hell out of me though, Poe.”

Poe sighed, “Sorry about that.” He didn’t elaborate even though you wanted him to explain why he’d caused Tahla to panic, what he’d said to have your friend run into the ship like he thought your head was about to fall off.

You also wanted to thank Tahla for coming, but you were too sleepy. Instead, you let the way Poe carried you to ease you closer and closer to the blissful release of sleep, not realizing until you heard a door whoosh open that the Healer was gone. Poe lowered you onto something soft and you peeked out beneath your eyelashes to find you were in his room.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” He murmured, pulling his blanket from where it was folded at the base of his bed to cover you, his hands still shaky. You reached for him then, grabbing hold of his hand, and Poe stilled, gazing down at you. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You cleared your throat carefully and kept your voice as low as possible when you spoke. “Sta-y with me.” You saw the words hit him, his tension releasing so quickly that you think he nearly collapsed as he joined you on the bed, laying cautiously next to you. The only part of him that touched you was where your hand had grabbed him; now, you tugged him closer and shuffled, burrowing into his side and tucking your head into his neck.

You didn’t care that he was bloody or you were both still dressed in the fancy clothing-you just wanted him close. Needed him, not only for yourself but also for him, so that he knew you weren’t upset with him in any way, so that he couldn’t lick his wounds alone and convince himself that he messed up.

You needed him to know that you still trusted him. Always would.

He shifted so that he could circle his arms around you, holding you tight against him and breathing steadily, hard enough that you knew he was fighting off tears again. Your poor, kind-hearted Poe. He took things so hard, loved so fiercely. You didn’t understand how you deserved him when you were young or now. You just felt so fucking safe now, he was all-encompassing safety and love and you wondered again how you could have thought badly of him, to ever have run away.

“Sweet girl,” He started murmuring again, whispers as he stroked one hand over your hair soothingly. You weren’t sure if he knew you were still awake, it had been so long. You remained still, hoping he would never stop speaking so sweetly to you, letting his words lull you. “My brave, beautiful girl. So strong. I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again. I love you, maker I love you...”

You wanted to say it back, but you fell asleep to the soothing rumble of his chest as he caressed you in the night, rocking away your nightmares and keeping you every bit as safe as he promised.

+

Poe woke early, light only just filtering in his thin window because he was too warm. At first, he was confused as to why he felt so restricted, so heavy until he looked down.

Stars.

You were tangled around him as he lay on his back, your arm hugged around his waist, head resting just below his sternum, legs entwined with his own. And he was still wearing his suit, the fabric not as breathable as his flight suit, and tighter too. As he gazed down at you, still peacefully asleep, further warmth pooled in his chest and belly.

‘Stay with me.’

Maker, three words and you knocked him clean over and he was ready right then to tell you he would never leave your side again if you asked him not to. But he’d managed to reign himself in slightly before curling around you protectively, unable to keep himself from touching you in gentle, soothing motions. He’d fallen asleep faster than he’d thought he would.

Now, he realized that if you woke up you would find him still covered in the blood of the men he’d killed. He needed to get himself into his fresher and clean up. With slow movements, he was able to extract himself from your grip and climb from the bed. He covered you in the blanket so the temperature change wouldn’t go as noticed and wake you up. He watched you for a minute as you slept, then quietly grabbed a pen and piece of paper, jotting a note down in case you woke up.

‘In the shower. Don’t leave, please.’

He set it next to you on his bed, then grabbed some clean clothing and stepped into his fresher, the door closing behind him silently. He bypassed his mirror, not interested in seeing how he looked, and went straight into the shower, turning on the water and flinching at the brief burst of cold before the temperature evened out. He scrubbed himself clean and avoided looking at the floor, at the swirling blood and grime disappearing into the drain. He had enough images in his head. It wasn’t that he hadn’t killed before, because he most certainly had-both from his x-wing and in ground combat. But he had never taken a life so viciously, so intimately. And it wasn’t how quickly he’d done it that scared him, it was how okay with it all he was.

They were hurting you, at the time he’d thought they’d killed you, he had no choice. No option but to end them.

He considered working in the field with you now, what that would look like. Would he start throwing himself in front of you and breaking protocol as he had in the woods of Takodana? Like he’d gotten angry at you for doing all that time ago when you’d first come back to D’Qar and had taken out that Stormtrooper with his gun levelled at Poe’s head? Was the fight...

Maker.

Was it worth losing you for?

The answer came fast; no, no it wasn’t. And that scared him because he’d always been ready to die for the cause, for the Resistance, to abolish the tyranny of the First Order. You and Charlie and he had all grown up with that single mindset, to get old enough to join and then fight until the war ended or you died.

And now all he could think was that he would rather lose the war a thousand times over than lose you.

When he stepped out of his shower and dried off, Poe was reeling. He was going through the motions-pulling on his socks, his shorts, his favourite tee. But internally he was reminding himself of everything he’d accomplished as a Resistance fighter. Of everything you had. Even after losing Charlie, you both kept fighting without question, for him, for yourselves, for the cause.

But...wasn’t the saying in your family that family came first, then the fight, and then everything else? When had he lost sight of that and forgotten that with great love came the equally great threat of losing it? But he couldn’t just leave, would never even consider it, no and he knew you wouldn’t, not for him or anything. There was nothing in the entire galaxy that would make you stop fighting. Which left Poe with the greatest question of all-what the hell was he going to do?

He didn’t have an answer, not even a vague idea, so he tabled the internal battle he was waging and stepped out of his fresher to check on you. His heart stuttered in his chest when he found you splayed across his bed, head hidden under his pillow, one leg kicked out from under the covers. You had always looked so peaceful when you slept, and memories surface of the countless times growing up, waking in your bed and watching you sleep. He’d usually wake up before you, sometimes he’d sneak out to hang out with Charlie, other times he’d enjoy the quiet and calm of your room.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to wake you up, and so Poe made his way to his dresser to search through options for you to wear. Even the idea of you going alone into your room to shower and change made his heart drop, his need to keep you safe and close was so great. He picked out one of his shirts, a pair of athletic shorts you could tighten the waist of, and after much debate with himself, a pair of his briefs. He’d let you decide if you were going to wear them-he just wanted you to have the option.

He went into his fresher and set the clothing on the vanity, starting a little when he emerged and found you watching him with bleary eyes. He smiled tentatively, suddenly nervous under your gaze, but after a small pause your face lit up, eyes brightening and smile wide, melting his heart in his chest.

“Good morning,” Poe sat down on the bed next to you, brushing a hand over your face to wipe away stray hairs, “Try not to speak too much, sweetheart.” He gently reminded you, his eyes dropping to your darkened throat.

You made a face, scrunching your nose, and Poe chuckled softly. He watched you yawn before pushing yourself up, moving to sit next to him and raising your hand to tentatively touch your throat. You winced before flicking your gaze up to meet his, offering a small smile, “Hi,” It was raspy and quiet, dry enough that he realized you needed some water. He leaned over and grabbed a glass bottle from his mini-fridge, handing it over to your waiting hand.

He watched you gulp the water down in small bursts, happy to see swallowing didn’t appear to cause you too much discomfort. “How do you feel?”

“M’fine,”

“You up for a shower?” Poe asked, and your eyes widened slightly in response and he started sputtering immediately, heat flushing his cheeks, “I mean-you can shower, I uh, that is, I put some clothes in there for you-and I will wait here. I showered already.”

Stars, he felt about fifteen all of the sudden, embarrassment flooding him over his unintentionally suggestive phrasing. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, glancing at you to find you holding in your laughter, amusement evident in your expression.

Poe rolled his eyes, recovering himself, “Very funny,” But he laughed, cheered by the smile on your face as you climbed out of his bed and made your way into his fresher. Your dress was crumpled and flat from sleeping in it, and your hair a tousled mess.

Even still, you were truly beautiful.

You looked over your shoulder at Poe before closing the door to the fresher, and he patted the bed, “I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He assured you, and a wave of relief flashed over your face as you shut the door.

Poe got out of bed, taking the time you were showering to tidy his room, including making the bed. He thought about everything that had happened and realized he wasn’t even remotely aware of whether the intel had proven as useful as the ally had claimed, having passed it off to Temmin and Kare to get into Leia’s hands. The fact that his droid hadn’t returned however told Poe that BB8 must be helping to decipher the intel, and Poe reasoned he could find out once he’d taken care of you.

When he heard the water shut off in the fresher, he started to fret over how to best do just that. He supposed it would be ideal for you to remain in the quiet space of his room, where you could avoid speaking too often or loudly. He wanted to keep you close...but then the doubt crept in and he began to question whether you would even want to stay with him, or if he was already being too overbearing. Maybe you were right now looking at the clothing he left out for you and shaking your head.

The fresher door opened a few minutes later, as Poe was tying on his boots, eager to get food from the dining hall and bring it back to the room for you both. “Anything you want from-uh...” He froze, eyes landing on you dressed in his clothing, his shirt much too large and-and you’d decided to only put on the briefs, the tighter fabric only just peeking out below the hem of his shirt.

Poe hadn’t thought of a chest band, not until this very moment when he could see your full breasts outlined against the light grey fabric. He swallowed, dropping his eyes to the floor as heat crawled up his neck.

If you noticed his reaction, you didn’t comment. You crawled back onto his bed, pulling a throw blanket over your legs before settling into the cushions happily, “Pancakes. Definitely pancakes, please.” You whispered, voice slightly improved now that you had some water.

It was entirely without thought that Poe leaned across his bed and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, before jumping up and promising to return with all the pancakes he could carry.

+

Poe sat with his drink held firm in his hand, his eyes flicking around the crowd before he sighed and settled back into his seat. The usual table, though this was the first time he’d been back to the Cantina since the funeral. Tommy and Rico had asked him a few times, of course, but he’d refused, never feeling quite ready to return.

Today though...he’d come because it was your birthday.

He’d have a drink for you. Even though he had no idea where in the fucking galaxy you’d gone.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying, but no matter who he went to, no one could or would give him your new assignment. You’d been clever and covered your tracks enough that you made sure anyone who would have helped Poe couldn’t see your assignment.

He’d never been more miserable in his life, never more angry with himself. He’d said awful shit to you and then disappeared for a few days to collect his head, thinking of how he’d apologize.

He’d wanted to tell you he loved you.

Instead, he broke your heart.

And you up and left before he could even begin to start making amends.

He was on his last possible source at this point, a person he hadn’t even wanted to go to. But Vanya had been kind to Poe, said she could try and see if anyone she was close with had the access needed. He told her he’d be here tonight, having a drink in your honour, if she wanted to stop by and let him know how she’d got along.

He just needed to find you, and then he would say everything he should have before, apologize to you and promise to make it up to you for the rest of his fucking life. He missed you so much it hurt, it hurt more than losing Charlie. You had disappeared in a way that almost made it feel like you had died as well.

He was starting to feel dead inside.

He glanced up, seeking Vanya out, and met the eyes of a woman at a nearby table, who shot him a friendly smile. He gave her what was probably more of a grimace in return, dropping his eyes to his drink. He wasn’t sure he was ready for...anything like that.

After a moment, he looked back up and saw Vanya walk in. She spotted him and waved, beginning to make her way over. As she grew closer, Poe could see the hard set to her jaw and felt his heart sink into his stomach-he could already tell she’d been unsuccessful.

When she sat down across from him, she heaved a great sigh, her eyes casting downward to look at her hands. “I’m sorry,” She looked up at him after a moment when he made no reply, “She’s smart, didn’t leave a lot to chance.”

Poe waved his hand, “It’s not your fault in the least, Vanya. I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m sure she’ll come back, once she’s grieved enough, had a chance to think things through.”

He wanted to laugh, but instead only grunted, “You didn’t get a chance to know her, but she’s more stubborn than...” He broke off and rubbed a hand over his face. Vanya’s face had fallen as the unspoken name sat between them, and he felt a surge of sadness for her-she had really loved Charlie. “I said...well, I don’t blame her for leaving. It’s already been a couple of months, she’s not coming back. I just wish one person in this fucking place could tell me more than ‘she’s alive.’.”

Vanya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she bobbed her head in agreement, eyes kind, “Poe I saw you-both of you-that night when we first met here. I saw the way you looked at each other-“

Poe tried not to glare, frowning into his drink, “Yeah? And what do you think you know now?”

Vanya ignored his tone, unbothered, “I saw how in love you both were. That kind of love...it doesn’t go away. Not forever. She’ll come back.” And with that, Vanya dipped her head and let loose a wave of fresh tears as thoughts of how Charlie was never coming back sat in the air.

He reached across the table automatically and took her hand, squeezing. “I’m sorry, Vanya. Look, thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me, alright?”

She smiled then, her eyes misty, but remarkably already recovering from her emotional moment, just the kind of tough lady Charlie loved. With a farewell hug, Vanya departed and left Poe alone at the table again. He sat for a minute, his drink nearly finished, and thought of all the times he sat here and took for granted what he had. Silently, he wished you a happy birthday wherever you were in the universe and hoped you weren’t even half as lonely and miserable as he was.

When he finally looked up again, the pretty woman at the table not far from his caught his eye again, and this time he smiled more broadly at her, tilting his head in question. She gestured at the seat next to her and after only a brief pause, Poe decided it was time to give himself a break from the monotony of grief and pain and loneliness and just escape for a few hours.

He joined the woman, Smiling in a way that didn’t feel real at all.

+

“This is nice, me getting to talk and talk with absolutely no interruptions-“

Tahla flinched when you kicked him under the table, and you stifled a giggle. Stars, it wasn’t as painful as when you’d woken up last night, but your throat still hurt. It was stinging, scratchy sort of pain when you made too much noise, but you found you’d been able to hold a low conversation with your friend over the past hour with minimal issues. It was just the laughing that did you in.

Poe had reluctantly dropped you off to the dining hall for an early dinner after you’d spent a good ten minutes convincing him you could handle going to dinner. He’d then been called away by BB8 to see the General, and you’d watched him actually contemplate what to do. It had almost been funny, but it also made butterflies erupt in your stomach-not for the first time that day. You shooed him away with the promise that you’d seek out Tahla or Temmin so that you wouldn’t be alone.

He’d been so attentive since you woke up, setting out clothing, then by bringing you breakfast and lunch and confining you to lounge on his bed all day. Despite your injury, it had kind of been one of the best days you’d had in years. It had felt a lot like old times, curled up in bed with Poe. The silence was comfortable as you read and he typed up his mission report, though the emotions running through you were entirely new.

It was a lot, emotionally, the last twenty-four hours. As traumatizing as your attack was, you felt like you were being best-taken care of by Poe and felt a little overwhelmed at how good he made you feel. He sensed everything you needed, right down to catching you when you’d be stuck on a page for a little too long, your thoughts turning inward, and he’d press a soft kiss to your hair, run his hand over your jaw, whisper sweet words of comfort.

You wanted to comfort him, too, for having to do what he did. For having to suffer through the worry of how injured you were and if you would recover. You didn’t know how to make him feel better, exactly, but you sensed that the more he took care of you the better he felt in turn, so you allowed him to fret more than was necessary.

And every time he touched you? Well, that was the thing, now that you’d encountered darkness where, for just a few moments you thought you were going to die, you realized you needed to tell him how you felt, finally. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, though, and ended up going back and forth in your head all day trying to decide.

“Lost in your head again, kid.” Tahla’s hand came to rest over yours from across the table; you glanced up from staring into your soup to meet his gaze. He looked extraordinarily understanding considering this wasn’t the first time it had happened during this dinner.

“Sorry. I guess I-I’ve never been attacked like that before. I’ve had, you know, guys pinch my ass or whatever and had no problem kicking the shit out of them if Charlie or Poe didn’t get to them first, but this was...” You trailed off and ran a hand over your face, then sipped your water to help soothe your throat as you spoke. “This wasn’t enemy forces, this wasn’t some guy in a cantina too many drinks in with a shit moral compass. This was-“

“Attempted assault,” Tahla said bluntly, squeezing your hand again. You gulped, then nodded, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry that you went through that, (y/n), I really am. I wish I could say something more insightful.”

You sighed heavily, waving off his concern, “The worst part is that I passed out before I could...and Poe didn’t say what he did, but I saw Temmin’s face when he was getting off the ship last night. I don’t care how he killed them, I just hate that I couldn’t help, that I couldn’t take away some of the responsibility from him.” You had another couple spoonfuls of your dinner, eyes on Tahla as he thought over your words.

“You know,” He began slowly, tapping his free hand on the table, “Poe basically said the same thing to me when he got me on comms last night. That he wished he’d prevented you from being hurt at all, that he failed in protecting you. He was so worked up, so upset, I thought you were close to death. He really loves you.”

Setting down your spoon with a clang, you sat up straighter before, quietly, replying. “Of course he does, and I love him. We’re a team, one of the best. We get the job done, always have. That’s why I’m freaking out, Tahla,” You flinched as your voice raised too high and your throat burned. You switched to a whisper, “He dropped everything mid-mission to save me, then brought me to the ship. He still...He sent in Kare, but it wasn’t exactly protocol.”

Tahla suddenly grinned at you in a bright, knowing sort of way that made you want to kick him again. Your scowl gave you away, “Don’t kick me, I’m just...I can’t believe you don’t see it. Don’t you realize-aren’t you in love with him?”

You blinked across the table; were you that obvious? If Tahla was calling you out, did that mean others, Poe, had figured you out? “Kriff, Tahla, why are you always so fucking blunt.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You glanced around wearily to ensure you wouldn’t be overheard, “I am, but I just got him back so I’m trying to time it-”

“Maker, I bet he tells himself the same thing and that’s why you’ve both been so fucking blind. You realize he cut down your attackers with his knife?” You stared at Tahla in surprise, “Then he carried you back to your ship and freaked the fuck out until he got you here, not to mention how he told the Healer on call to go to hell and only send me to look at you?”

“I-I, but-“ You gaped. You’d known some of the pieces, of course, but hadn’t realized the extent of Poe's panic.

Tahla laughed, not unkindly, “You want to know what we all used to say back home growing up?” He didn’t wait for your reply, seeming to understand from the expression on your face that words didn’t exist for you right now, “We said, ‘never mess with Poe’s girl’. Remember when Gus broke up with you, said some rude shit to you? Well, he ended up with a black eye for it. Poe’s always loved you. And since I’ve been here these past few weeks, it’s like you two are already a couple.”

You still didn’t know how to reply, so you were incredibly grateful when his pager went off and he glanced down before releasing your hand. With an apologetic smile, he began to stand, and you joined him-no longer hungry-and met him around the table. He pulled you in for a hug, his face schooled to a more neutral look when you pulled back slightly to peer up at him.

“Thanks for everything, Tahla. I’ll be sad when you leave next week.” You admitted softly, and his smile grew.

Leaning down, Tahla pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and then turned his head slightly to whisper in your ear. “I’ll come back for the wedding, of course.”

And with that, he pulled back, winked at you, and then walked off toward the far doors of the dining hall. You had half a mind to follow him and kick him just for the hell of it, the cheeky bastard, but instead, you pushed your seat in and turned to head back to your room, hoping Poe would be done with the General and would give you an update.

When you walked into the hallway and spotted Poe coming along, a weirdly decisive sensation seemed to settle in your stomach, solidifying the moment his eyes found yours from several feet away. His face broke into a relieved, wide grin and that was it, that was the final cord snapped.

It was almost funny.

You saw a modicum of confusion knit his brows together when you suddenly marched towards him, jaw set because you were trying to reign in the intense emotions now bubbling up inside of you. “Sweetheart?” He said, frowning further when you grabbed his arm and started toward the direction of your rooms. You didn’t speak, afraid of opening your mouth and just word-vomiting every thought you’d ever had, and so you pulled him along silently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him assessing you, trying to figure out what set you off, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth as he considered. When you got to the first empty hallway, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You halted, releasing his arm and spinning to face him straight on. Poe opened his mouth, but before he could ask you a question, it just...came out.

“I love you,” You sighed it, lower than you’d have liked to say it because of your damaged vocal cords, but he heard you. You knew because he stiffened like a board and his open mouth slackened almost comically. “I-I’m in love with you, Poe Dameron, and I always have been and I can’t hold it in any longer.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from babbling, holding his wide-eyed gaze steadily. Finally saying it aloud was about a million times better than it had felt to simply admit it to yourself. You felt like you could float away just for getting the truth out, though a level of anxiety began to grow the longer he stood silent before you. But you knew his eyes, every expression they’d ever held, and you could see that he was processing your words, that they grew brighter and brighter until movement caught your eye and you glanced down to see his fingers twitch, and then he was moving.

Poe reached up and caught your face gently in his hands, closing the distance between you both so that your bodies were pressed together. He gazed at you in wonder for a moment. “Oh my sweet girl,” He crooned softly, and you were melting into his touch, your heart was surely about to burst now, and then- “I have loved you in every eternity that has ever been, and will ever be. You are everything, sweetheart, everything to me. I should have...should have told you so many times before this.”

And then Poe Dameron slotted his lips over yours and kissed you deeply like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. It was like coming home. You were rooted to the ground now, his kiss anchoring you, his gentle caress over your cheeks sending fire into your veins that conflicted with the euphoria in your mind.

Because Poe, your Poe, was kissing you. Handsome, tall, broad and strong Poe. Your best friend, your soulmate, was kissing you and you didn’t think you could ever stop now. Your lips parted for him the same moment he did for you, and then you were tasting him and Stars, did he ever taste good. Like home-warm, a smouldering fire on a rainy evening. You knew he liked what he found in kissing you when he groaned lightly, his hands settling at the back of your neck and pressing you closer against him, deepening the kiss as your tongues danced, and you whimpered in response.

With a gasp, Poe pulled back and you saw more than love and adoration on his face, now you saw desire too. Real, heated desire.

And fuck, that pollen had absolutely nothing going for it, you saw that now. Seeing just a sliver of what desire truly looked like on his face, you knew it had all been a huge illusion brought on by the poison, during that mission. You were burning under his gaze now, every cell of your body alight and happy to surrender, responding to him before he’d barely moved. His hands were still on you and you realized yours were in fists at your sides so you reached up and did something you’d always wanted to do-sinking them into his curls.

“Fuck,” He rumbled the moment you gave a slight tug, his eyes fluttering closed briefly, a twitch appearing in his jaw. When he looked at you again you swear you burst into flames. “We need to...talk. In my room.” Before you could reply, he stooped and clasped his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting, and you realized he wanted to carry you.

And you were going to fucking let him. You pressed yourself against Poe and allowed him to guide your legs to wrap around his waist, whimpering again when his hands gripped your hips tightly. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him. You could see how determined he was to focus, to get to the privacy of his room. You nipped along his jaw as he hurried along, grateful the halls were quiet but truly you wouldn’t have cared if he bowled people over at this point. His hands flexed as you kissed him, pressed you even closer against him when you lightly sucked on a spot on his neck that tasted as delicious as it looked.

“Stars, Poe,” You whispered, playing with his hair still. “I love you so much.”

“Let m-me show you, how fucking much I love you, sweet girl.” He panted in response, stepping through the doorway to his room and laying you onto his bed. The door shut and locked at his command, sealing you into the privacy of his quarters. He pulled back to gaze down at you, eyes wide, then reached up with one hand to very lightly trace along your neck. “And no one is ever going to touch you again.”

He said it with such strength and conviction you could only nod, even though it was a tall promise to make given the lives you lived. Because you believed him; that he meant he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. When he lowered himself down over you and started to kiss you again, you relaxed entirely for probably the first time in your life.

Burning never felt so good.

+

Poe was kissing you. You were kissing Poe. It was, it had to be, a dream. But if it was a dream how could it feel so intense and real and right? How could kissing you possibly be as perfect as this? He felt like he was whole again-like his heart tripled in size the moment you told him you were in love with him and then every moment with his lips pressed to yours only continued to make it grow.

Yesterday he’d almost lost you, or at least thought he had, and now you were tangling your fingers in his hair and moaning underneath him as you kissed, your body trembling. He’d never been as hard as quickly in his fucking life, could feel himself pulsing where he was pressed against your leg. He wanted to be embarrassed but the look on your face when he’d dropped you onto the bed told him you were thinking the same thing as he was now, just as overwhelmed and needy to get as close as possible, skin to skin. To finally tear down every single barrier-mental and physical-between you and come together, be together.

Which was probably why it seemed to take no time to rip one another’s clothes off until Poe was only in his briefs and you were left in the briefs he’d given you that morning to wear.

“Oh sweetheart,” He murmured, his eyes running over your every dip and curve and swell, the smoothness of your skin calling to him. He was laving his tongue over your nipple the first time you cried out, the sound strangled and broken enough that he pulled back and looked at you closely. “You can’t be loud, sweet girl. I want you to, trust me, but you have to be a good girl. We don’t want to hurt your voice any more than it already is, okay?”

“O-okay, I’ll try.”

Poe hummed, “Tell me the moment you want to stop. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable-”

You slid one hand out of his hair and dropped it between your bodies as he was speaking, coming to grip his length over his underwear. Poe broke off with a hiss, automatically thrusting into your hold. “I’ve b-been waiting my whole life for you, Poe Dameron.” You sighed, releasing his erection and tracing your hand along the planes of his stomach and chest. “Never stop. I’m yours and I never want to stop.”

A possessive feeling, one that had always lingered in the background when Poe was with you, increased tenfold at your words, further driven by what had happened yesterday. He growled before capturing your mouth in another, more fierce kiss, his tongue exploring you as he ground his hips down a little.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping and even more flushed, your chest heaving as you looked at him. “You’re mine,” He repeated, bracing one arm on the bed and trailing the other down to tease over your centre, dipping below the band of his briefs. “I’m yours, too, sweet girl.” And he locked eyes with you as he pushed two fingers inside of you, gasping out at the blissed-out, contained moan you allowed yourself and the feel of how tight and wet you were.

Your hips bucked when he pressed in deep and curled his fingers, playing with you until he found a spot within that made you just about shoot off of the bed. With a wicked grin, he started to tease that spot and watched your face as you came undone bit by bit for him.

It was the most vivid, raw experience of his entire life. Every single moment soaked into his mind and became a permanent, detailed memory-your little whines and pleas, the roll of your hips, the heat of your slick and how he could smell you, just the right amount of sweetness. It was all so much more than the sex you’d had during the pollen exposure. Every other sense had been cut down and pushed back during that, but now they were all operating on full levels and it felt so right. It enabled Poe to work you through to your orgasm with ease all the while just about ready to cum in his underwear as he did.

“Shit, you are fucking beautiful, sweet girl,” He moaned, adjusting the arm he was bracing himself with so that he could clamp that hand over your mouth. He sensed you were close, could feel your tight walls clenching, and wanted to protect you from harming yourself if you forgot you couldn’t scream. “Cum for me-I’ve imagined it so many times, need to see you cum for real, for me. I’ll keep you safe, go ahead, let go.”

He felt your lips part behind his hand, then your entire body went rigid and you came hard, back arching until a significant amount of wetness soaked his hand, and the bed, and you started to whine and shake from the intensity of it all. Poe growled as you came, glancing down in wonder to see more wetness pool and realizing you were squirting, and he hadn’t known you could do that.

“Fuck, baby, is that for me? You perfect little thing, you are the hottest fucking woman. Holy shit!”

You slumped into the mattress with a huge breath, the warm air hitting his hand and he moved it so that you could catch your breath. With care he slowly removed his fingers from you, looking from your blissed-out expression to your soaked underwear, to your essence all over his hand. He quickly removed your panties, then shuffled down the bed, even more turned on now.

“I just, fuck I need to taste you real quick, sweet girl.” And he dove into your folds before you could respond, taking care to avoid your sensitive nub, and licked you like it was his last meal. You tasted fucking delicious and he didn’t want to stop, pushing your legs apart he cleaned up every drop you’d leaked while you whimpered for him.

“Sh-shit,” You cried, voice low, writhing against his hold on your hips. “Poe, please. Please!”

Poe pulled back, licking his lips, and grinned up at you. “You okay, sweet girl?” You nodded and he rose, eager to get you over the edge again so that he could lick up everything you gave him. “Please what? What do you need?” He crawled back up your body, chuckling when he felt your hands pushing desperately at his briefs.

You cleared your throat, “You. Always needed you, Poe.” You whispered, your voice so filled with emotion you nearly knocked him over. He took over pushing his briefs off and then reached under you with both arms, securing your body before lifting you, changing positions so that you were sitting in his lap. His length pressed against your thigh as you settled.

Poe stroked some stray hair out of your face and kissed you softly, holding you against him and savouring the moment. He’d never been so filled with emotion and pleasure before, every woman he’d been with over the years simply could not compare to the power and love between you and Poe, and it was terrifying. Sensing his apprehension, you drew back from the kiss and stroked along his jaw soothingly and Poe took a moment to simply drink you in.

“I never knew anything could be like this,” He admitted, now running his hands all over your body, pausing to squeeze his favourite curves. You smiled at him, pupils blown wide with lust, your expression telling him you agreed. “I’ve wasted so many years, (y/n). I’m so sorry.”

“No,” You shook your head, dropping one hand to seek out his length and holding it gently in your hand, lining him up. “No, we aren’t apologizing for our mistakes anymore. It’s you and me now, Poe, you, and, m-me.” You lowered yourself, your scratchy voice breaking off into a sigh of content as you slowly sunk onto his length.

Poe had pictured being with you like this many times in his life, certainly more than he’d like the admit. But even combined, none of those fantasies could come close to how it felt to bring your bodies together, the fucking ecstasy, the sight of his cock splitting you open as you slowly took him inch by inch. Your hands tangled in his hair again as a low, continuous whine fell from your lips. Your face was slightly scrunched as you tried to relax and accommodate him, and Poe was enraptured, watching everything with his hands at your hips.

You were devastating. And you were his.

Poe hurled headfirst into oblivion as you settled fully on his lap, a groan escaping as your tight heat clenched around him, and it was all he could do to speak, to just tell you how perfect you were. “Baby, oh fuck, I love you,” He leaned back slightly, dropping one arm to brace on the bed and then gripping your hip with the other. Poe set a slow and deliberate pace with his feet pressing into the baseboard of his bed. He rolled up, then back, his cock dragging halfway out before sinking back into you as you gripped his shoulders and whimpered above him.

It was sensual, soft, each movement like a slow dance, your hips rolling down to meet his in perfect harmony with his thrusts. You were biting your lip, eyes locked on Poe’s, and he could feel you flutter around him every time he groaned; so he let himself make noise, let you hear how good you made him feel, grunting and cursing with every blissful motion.

Even though the pleasure kept mounting Poe didn't want to rush this, so he moved at the same pace for a long time. Occasionally stopping completely when he was fully inside of you and relishing the sensation until you whimpered and he would move again with a grunt. It was divine, perfection...you. It was all you.

“Poe,” You whimpered as you moved one hand from his shoulder to push into his curls, urging him toward you as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you slowly as well, licking into your mouth, over your lips, drinking up your moans, until eventually it wasn’t enough for you and you made a noise in your throat, a little frustrated sound that made him smirk. Made him even fucking harder.

Without warning he sat forward, brought both hands to your hips and slammed you down onto his cock, using his strength to lift and drop you. “Sweet girl,” Poe grunted as your head tilted back in a silent cry, “That’s it, cum for me, let me feel you, baby, please.” He was desperate to feel you cum on his cock, pulling out and then slamming you back down, meeting you halfway as you struggled to hold in your noises, and Poe let loose another round of groans that seemed to propel you straight over the edge.

Your body curved forward as you came, one of your hands shooting to cover your own mouth as you sobbed in pleasure. He kept moving, watching your face rapturously until a strong clench around his cock drew his gaze downward. He had a moment to recognize what was about to happen before roaring in delight as you squirted for him again, the hot wetness coating his lap. The room filled with the wet slapping sounds of your body meeting his and Poe had to actively work not to cum, setting his jaw and gripping your hips with almost bruising strength.

“Ahh,” You whimpered, your legs going limp. Before you could fully collapse into Poe, he flipped you onto your back and started to fuck you into his mattress while peppering you with soothing kisses, “Oh Poe, more!”

He was right there, nearing the edge and yet savouring every deep thrust into your tight cunt. His movements were getting sloppy now, and he wasn’t even trying to hold back his noises because you felt so fucking good and this was so perfect and he loved you so much.

“Oh baby, baby-” He slammed into you one last time, dropping most of his weight down onto you and filling you deeply as he began to cum, his hips stuttering. You were moaning for him, weakened legs hooking behind his ass to draw him closer as he filled you, “I love you, I love you, I love you-“ He couldn’t stop saying it now, his head dropping to your shoulder-careful to avoid your injured throat-he just kept repeating himself between grunts.

As he started to come down from the high, he realized you were speaking, your voice a whisper in his ear, hands stroking his hair. “I love you too, Poe, my Poe,” He was gasping now, everything that had transpired catching up to him in the clarity of post-orgasmic bliss and your words brought his emotions back to the forefront.

He made to move back, only you stopped him, keeping him close. He looked at you, “You okay, my sweet girl?” Stars, you looked fucked out in the best ways and he swore he could cum again just at the sight of you as drunk on him as he was on you.

You nodded, giving him a soft little smile, “Just stay inside me a little longer.”

Fuck, you were going to kill him, you were so hot.

As much as he liked the idea, he didn’t want to stay on top of you and crush you, so he considered carefully before rolling you both, settling himself into the bed as you lay atop him, whimpering at the movement before resting your head on his chest. He’d started to soften inside of you, but remaining in your warmth kept him semi-hard, not something he’d ever done before and yet he decided at that moment he wanted to do it all the time.

“That was...you are perfect, you know that? Dreamt of you my whole life and that was better than I ever could have imagined.” Poe beamed at you when you looked up at him, your eyes bright. He had never been so radiantly happy in his entire life.

You reached up and ran your hand along his jaw, “Says the man who made me squirt. Twice.” You gigged, and he gazed at you for a moment before responding.

“You’ve done that before, yeah?”

When you shook your head, Poe felt a mixture of both surprise and pride swell within him, and you read that in his expression. “Yes flyboy, that was all you.” Another throaty giggle, which then morphed into a full cough as you hit the limit on your poor vocal cords.

Poe was up in an instant, carefully slipping from you and hurrying to his fridge to get you water. He passed it to you and then went into his fresher to get a warm washcloth. You were gulping the water gratefully when he returned, your eyes raking over his body with a level of possessiveness that made his cock twitch. You wanted him to yourself as much as he wanted you to himself, that much was now abundantly clear.

“Alright, sweet girl, let me take care of you,” He whispered, running the washcloth gently through your folds and tidying you up. You cooed softly, relaxing into the bed. When he was satisfied, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the fresher to set you on his toilet. “You pee, I’m going to change the sheets.” And he wiggled his brows at you, earning him another big smile that settled right down into his oversized heart.

A short while later Poe Dameron was laying in his bed with you held in his arms. This was not the first time in his life that he drifted off to sleep with you, but it was the first time you were both nude and satisfied and so wholly consumed with your love for one another.

It was the first time he would wake in the middle of the night, hard and aching, only to find you already awake and needy for him, moaning when he rocked his hips into you and fucked you slow.

It was the first time since Charlie’s funeral that Poe would sleep entirely at peace, wrapped around his soulmate.

+

If you thought making love with Poe Dameron was perfect beyond expectations, it almost made it unfair how fucking good he was at eating you out.

You’d both woken late the morning after coming together and felt ready for more-you wanted him inside of you again. Only he insisted he hadn’t gotten anywhere near his fill of tasting you last night. Now he was happily lapping between your folds with his skilled, hot tongue and absolutely wrecking you, one hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet because he knew how fucking good he was.

You saw it the first time he’d made you squirt and then watched it solidify when you admitted you’d never done so before. It was hot, seeing the mixture of passion and cockiness, skill and care. You fell more and more in love with him throughout the night, when you came together and fit so perfectly, and now you were about ready to beg him for his cock before he killed you with his mouth.

When you came again for him, you were spent and though you did get wetter, you didn’t squirt. He didn’t mind, eagerly drinking up what you did give him before moving to kiss your thighs, then eased your legs together and began to massage the aching muscles. “Such a good girl,” He praised, his muscular figure drawing your eyes. You hadn’t realized how talkative, how much noise he would make, and it was the hottest shit. His groans were downright sinful, were what sent you rocketing into your orgasms the night before. “I should keep you here all day, wet and ready for me.”

“Fuck,” You replied, the words shooting straight to your core even after all of the orgasms you’d had. You sat up, struggling slightly and Poe reached out and gripped your arms, lifting you in another show of his strength that made you kind of dizzy with lust. “You’re insatiable. But we’re having lunch with Tahla, remember?”

Realization flashed over his face and he glanced over at his wrist comm next to the bed, relaxing when he saw there was still time before lunch. “Shit, I forgot. He’s leaving soon though, right? So I don’t want to bail.”

“Next week,” Poe moved to sit next to you, both of your backs against the wall now. He pulled the blanket from where it had been kicked to the end of his bed to cover you both. “He said something...that sort of made me realize how stupid I was being, right before I saw you yesterday.”

Poe turned his head to face you, his arms circling your waist and tugging you close to his side, “Oh? What did our wise, filter-free friend say?”

You giggled, then cleared your achy throat, “I had said I was going to miss him when he left and he told me he’d come back for our wedding.” You thought Poe would laugh with you, or at least scoff, but instead, he’d gone quiet and his expression turned inward in a way you couldn’t read. You hesitated a moment before tilting your head into his line of sight, though his mind was clearly a million miles away, “Poe?”

He looked at you then, for what felt like the first time in your life because of how intense his expression was, filled with love and something you couldn’t get a read on.

“I’m sorry,” He began, shaking his head a little, “I just...you are the love of my life. I meant everything I said last night.”

Warmth filled you as he spoke; you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to him saying such perfect things to you. Saying he loved you. “I know, Poe, I meant everything too.” You assured him, brushing your hair over his forehead to push back some stray curls.

Poe nodded, his expression still intense, eyes bright, “We’ve lost a lot of time, sweet girl. But I don’t want to waste another minute. I-” He paused, and you were growing increasingly confused. When he suddenly pulled away standing up to cross his room, your curiosity spiked, confusion at an all-time high.

Until that is, you saw what he was doing.

He was pulling something out of the inner breast pocket of his flight suit, lifting a chain and then turning to you back at the bed. He glanced between his hand and you once, stealing himself before dropping down to one knee next to the bed.

“Maybe he won’t have to come back for our wedding,” Poe opened his palm to reveal exactly what you knew he kept in his flight suit, “Maybe he’s here just in time. Marry me, (y/n). I love you and I never want to spend another minute without you. You are my soulmate, so please marry me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes fell from the passionate look on Poe’s face to his mother’s wedding band that lay in his outstretched hand.

+

34 ABY - Aftermath of the Battle of Takodana - D’Qar

Climbing from his ship with his adrenaline running high thanks to the success on Takodana, Poe turned and gasped when saw his droid, the orange and white blur zooming over to him. “BB8 my buddy!” He cried, dropping to his knees, “It’s so good to see you!” He looked the droid over, happy to see it looked to be in good shape.

BB8 beeped, excitedly explaining what had happened to it, “What? Saved you? Where is he?” He asked, the droid responding quickly and Poe glanced up, eyes landing on the defected ex-Storm Trooper who had saved Poe. Holy shit!

Finn spotted Poe at the same time and began running forward, “Poe?” He called, and Poe rose to his feet and started towards him, still reeling in surprise that Finn was here, that he was okay.

Poe felt himself grin, “Oh no!”

“Poe Dameron, you’re alive?”

Rushing up to Finn, Poe gasped out, “Buddy!” He pulled his new friend in for a hug, “So are you!” And he looked well enough, thankfully, too. Poe had worried he’d been captured back by the First Order after he couldn’t find him on Jakku.

“What happened to you?

“What happened to me? I got thrown from the crash. Woke up at night-no you, no ship, nothing,” Poe released Finn, pointing to him and then to his droid, “Listen, BB8 says that you saved him.”

“No, no, it wasn’t just me-“

Poe stepped closer to Finn, needing the man to understand, “You completed my mission Finn, I-that’s my jacket.” His gaze dropped to the jacket-his jacket- that Finn was wearing.

Finn glanced down, “Oh,” And he started to take it off and suddenly, Poe realized he didn’t need the jacket back, that Finn needed it more.

“No, keep it,” He punched Finn’s arm affectionately, “It suits you.”

Finn stopped and straightened, his eyes roving over Poe once again, “I still can’t believe your alive, Poe.”

Poe laughed, grasping his friends' shoulders, “You’ve got no idea what I have to live for, Finn. Dying ain’t an option.”

Tags

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly@itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @deanandbobbymcgee @afootnoteinyourhappiness

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood  Part 2

Part 2 is hereeeeee YAY! There will be a part 3 eventually :) I hope you enjoy and as well lmk you loved it with reblogs and messages, they truly make my day and y’know do it for other writers too, trust me we all love it. this fucking gif still gets me,,, but anyway there is so much i want to talk about in this part its killing me so plssss message me about it aghghghggh idk what else to say 

um this part is filled with: yn not knowing cars, harry being a dork, almost kisses and kisses  , but daddy i love him, the crown, gardening, and so much more mwah

Read Part 1

Word Count: 10.8k | Warnings: minor anxiety attack, swearing?, drinking, think that’s it (some more taylor swift)

-

“You want me to what?!” She feels herself all but scream.

He sighs in exasperation and ruffles his freshly cut curls. He can’t help the smile that grows shortly after his sigh. Y/N’s reaction on the other end of the line has sent him into a fit of giggles that he has to suppress quickly when she sends a warning ‘Harry’.

“It’s simple, love,” He twists to lay on his stomach. “I left you the spare to my place. Just go in, find my car keys and then drive to the airport and snap me up!”

She sighs now over the phone as she contemplates whether she could truly go into Harry’s home and then drive his surely expensive car to the airport and get him. It was something a friend would do for another friend, especially one who was a neighbour and especially a neighbour who had nothing better to do on a Friday night.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I’ll be there on Friday, text me the flight number.”

She grins when she hears a little “woo” from Harry. Even if he’s smiling half a world away it still made her happy to know it was because of her.

They had mostly texted each other randomly over the past three weeks while Harry had been away in California. She told him about her job, which he insisted was endlessly interesting and she countered that he found it interesting because it was new to him and eventually the grandeur would wear off. She loved her job, of course, it was for a public relations company that dealt with various London based companies and she was on multiple accounts with various clients ranging from tech companies to music artists. But she didn’t think it was as interesting as Harry made it out to be.

Harry told her about the filming of the movie and about everyone on set. He told her how he bought everyone on the crew his new ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirts and joked how he’d have to get her one as well to match her other one. She noted that one of Harry’s love languages was very obviously gift giving. He was so generous and she really admired that from him considering how successful he was. Her father was an accountant so she knew how rich people could be about their money sometimes, hiding it away in different entities just so their money can make money instead of spending it on things that matter.

He said everyone was nice and amazing overall, he gushed about people’s performances, but he’d always end with how much he missed London. He liked LA, he would assure her, but then he’d say how it wasn’t home-y at all. London was home to him. She would smile whenever he said that because she felt that way too, even though she wasn’t originally from the city, it just felt like home to her.

One night, he even confided in her his loneliness while on set. He wondered that maybe it was because he had no real roots in LA, nothing to go home to - no home to go to. She tried to reassure him that he wasn’t alone and all he had to do was ask and any person from the movie would love to spend time with him. He nodded along to her words, but they both knew he was being overly kind when he said everyone was nice. Not everyone in Hollywood was nice and certainly not everyone in Hollywood had substance. He searched for a month and seldom found time where he was truly relaxed with others and enjoying himself. More than ever he was excited to return home to London to say the least.

-

“Harry!”

She jumped out of her seat and into his arms, her cheek brushing his as she leaned in. He stood just on the sidewalk by his car that she had gingerly driven into the city and to the airport at 9pm on a Friday night in November.

The car was a dark blue vintage convertible, Mercedes-Benz, she was pretty sure but she really was completely clueless when it came to cars. Harry had taken her call right before his flight took off and walked her through finding the car. He had two garages and one garage had two cars and the other had only one. She had gone on her own and found the first garage with the two cars and seen a lime green tiny little vintage convertible and a cherry red vintage non-convertible and became distraught that there was no navy car. When Harry picked up the phone he had been greeted with some yelling about how he must be colorblind if he thought one of these cars was navy and he had laughed heartily before explaining that there was another garage. She had huffed and traipsed through his house until she came upon the other garage. When she saw the blue car she was equally annoyed and elated. “Thank fucking god,” she muttered over the line and Harry had laughed, but found himself cut off when the line went dead.

He smiled and groaned slightly at her tight embrace. He was happy to be back in England after a month away and he was happy to have her in his arms even if he didn’t know whether he should admit that.

“It’s good to see you,” he musters and he feels her smile into his neck. The only fabric between her face and him being his thin waffle knit long sleeve. He could feel her breath softly against him. He pets at the back of her hair, “Thank you for coming to get me, I know it might have been a bit much to ask.”

“Don’t mention it,” she pulls back from his embrace and smiles happily up at him, “What are friends for?”

She brushes her hands at his shoulders and then moves to start putting his luggage in his car. He had two suitcases and a backpack with him, but he had told her he had more stuff sent over that would just be sent simply to his home. She had texted back a shocked face emoji when he said that, unaware that he traveled with that much stuff.

“Right,” Harry affirms, twitching into action at the word ‘friends’. He felt like they had gotten so close over the last month even though they had only talked over the phone for that time. Seeing her in person now felt like she had been his friend for years.

Once in the car, Y/N settles back in the driver’s seat, not wanting Harry to have to drive after the horrible flight from California to London. A direct flight was just about as bad as layovers in Ohio or Utah. She wasn’t sure what it was like in First Class, but she still knew it was rough being on an aircraft for 10 plus hours.

Harry closes his eyes beside her after a moment. He had watched her settle in the car with his head against the headrest, his eyes drooping as they regarded her movements. She was so sweet to him and he nodded when she asked if he wanted his seat warmer on.

“You’re too good to me, pet,” he whispers, head lulling once again.

She glances at him swiftly as she pulls out of the loading area. He smiled contentedly before drifting off to sleep.  

She turned the music low and silently drove them back to Sherwood Avenue. When she pulled the car into Harry’s garage, she sat there for a few moments as Harry softly breathed beside her. She had hoped he’d wake up upon their arrival so she wouldn’t have to wake him, but alas he was sound asleep.

She watched him, he was so quiet in this moment. So unlike how he normally was with her, talking about everything and nothing almost constantly. She liked that side of him. But she had to admit something about him this peaceful was just as entrancing.

The flutter of his eyelids brought her out of her reverie and she was grateful for the dim lighting in the garage because when Harry’s eyes focused on her she was blushing.

He quirks a brow and his smirk begins to settle back on his lips. “Home,” he raspily mumbles and begins to shift in his sea.

She nods and smiles softly, shaking off all the thoughts had been going through her mind.

“We’re back,” she affirms. “Let’s get you inside, sleepy boy.”

Harry shakes off his slumber with a rub at his right eye and a run through his hair. He climbs out of the car. She throws him the keys at his silent instruction of an extended hand and an eyebrow raise. She knows she read him correctly when he smiles sweetly and travels to the boot of his car to begin unloading the suitcases he was in charge of.

She follows him and rounds the end of the car, preparing to take some of his luggage.  

“You don’t need to carry anything, it’s fine, dove.”

His voice is extra gravelly still and she would’ve complained about the new nicknames if he hadn’t sounded so hot. She didn’t think she had any feelings for Harry other than friendship, she was almost sure of it. Sure he was attractive, but ever since she actually got to know him she hadn’t thought of him in a way that could be considered more than friendship. He made her blush, but he was just inherently smooth. It wasn’t because he was specifically flirting with her.

Except right now, the whole reuniting of it all paired with his voice and his sleepy eyes that she imagined likely looked similar to his bedroom eyes. She was having a hard time seeing that line of friendship.

“No!” She protested, tugging the backpack he was attempting to carry along with the two suitcases from him.

He sighs and sets down one of the cases, “Y/N, you’ve already been too good to me by picking me up. I’m not making you do any more physical labor with any of my heavy shit.”

“It can’t be that heavy,” she pulls the backpack on and she resists the slight step back her body wants to take from the weight of the backpack.

“Give it back,” he says, sounding concerned for her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it, Har,” she smiles and gives a little twirl in his large garage, the backpack making her look a bit smaller.

He twists his lips trying to ward off a smile. He wasn’t annoyed, moreso he was delighted by her antics. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her.

“Oh you got it? Do you?” His amusement betrays his British accent, making him sound like he did at 19. He places the other case on the ground and walks quickly to stand right in front of her.

She squeals as he gets so close, his nose just about brushes hers. He’s smiling sinisterly as he takes hold of the straps of the backpack and tries to tug them off of her. Yet, she holds on tight to the front of them, laughing happily at their silliness and causing her nose to brush against his.

Their eyes are strong on each other, watching their every move. And they settle a little, laughter dying out, breathing evening out. Her hands are still strong on the front straps of the backpack, while Harry’s are strong on the top of her shoulders, wrapped around the backpack’s straps as well.

He licks his lips, feeling especially interested in seeing how hers finally taste. Right as he is about to lean in, brush his lips against hers, she pulls from his grasp, swinging away from him and dashing to the door that leads to the rest of his house.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out here!” She twists the nob of the door and beckons him.

He huffs, shaking himself out of the daydream he had almost made reality. He wanted to kick himself, he felt like a kid. He needed to get a grip.

“I’m right behind ya’,” he called, nodding his head to tell her to go before him.

Her smile sears in his mind like the shine on a brand new coin as she flicks on the light in the entryway. The light comes flooding in the doorway and around her. For that quick moment only she is illuminated in his eyes. She shines for him and he wonders if it’s possible to drown in light.

-

Next Thursday

“Crown came out on Sunday!” Harry said as he opened the door, knowing it was Y/N who had knocked.

“Had no clue from the ominous text you sent, ‘come over, i promise popcorn *crown emoji*’,” she laughs and enters the house and holds out a bag of chocolate chips.

“I already have it queued up and popcorn’s popping!” He says happily and takes the chocolate chips to put in little dishes.

They walk into the kitchen and she’s still in awe of his home. It was clean and sleek but with all the hominess still easily found if you looked a little closer. Tea cloths hanging over the ovens’ handles that had interlocking G’s - a facet of Gucci she could only assume. Various paintings of different scenes, one a Japanese store front and another a Blue Jay perched easily on a thin branch.

There were unique painted tiles that he must use for hot plates and a single fancy floral mug tucked next to an espresso machine and just little things that she was keen on exploring at some point, but Harry caught her attention.

“Adult slushie?” He inquires with an arched brow.

“Does the slushie perform exotic dances?” She asks jokingly.

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Sometimes those that drink it do.”  

She reddens at his implication. He then looks at her seriously and she regards him with utter delight. Her eyes twinkle as he moves about his home with ease.

“If you make it,” she confirms, in awe that he would make cocktails on this random occasion.

He smiles at her and begins his final tasks, checking to make sure the popcorn doesn’t burn and grabs the ingredients he needs to make the drink he was thinking of.

She stands beside him, eyes constantly wondering between his moving physique and his home.

“Did you know I know Emma?” Harry asks, looking up from the blender. She notices how his neck muscles twist and strain as he gazes at her. He was wearing a white t-shirt with ‘But Daddy I Love Him’ in a red vintage font and a black cardigan with different colorful objects on it, mostly flowers, it said ‘Spaceboy’ on the back and she had smiled when she saw it when he led her to the kitchen.

She hums, her gaze focused on him. His green eyes flicker across her face and down her body, simply taking into account her outfit. Pink sweatpants and a long sleeve with a drawing of a cute little clown holding two guns up at the air. While it might have sounded like a weird thing to have printed on a shirt, he found it fun, he was always appreciative of different clothing. Of course she had a gun-slinging clown shirt that she managed to make sweet, he thought.

“Fascinating connections of the rich and famous,” she muses.

“Yeah, well, Susan - Harry Lambert,” he corrects his friend’s nickname, catching himself, “he styles us both so we’ve met a few times. She’s really lovely.”

“That’s pretty epic,” she says and wanders closer to Harry, wanting a better look at his progress on the drinks.

Her hand rests on the countertop next to the two glasses he intends to place the ‘slushies’ into. The liquor he used just said “Blue” and she wondered what blue would taste like as he pours the glasses now. The consistency of them being relatively slushie like, she was impressed.

Her smile gives it away and Harry eyes her, “What’re you smiling at?”

“I’m admiring your bartending skills,” she meets his eyes and she realizes how rather close they’ve gotten as he leans slightly over her and the countertop.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says playfully, “I take my mixology very seriously so I don’t want any praise until you’ve actually tried it.”

He holds the glass up to her and instead of grabbing it from him, she simply guides it to her lips. Her hand lightly grasping at the soft fabric of his cardigan. She parts her lips and takes a small sip, maintaining eye contact with Harry.

When the icey liquid passes her lips, her eyes flutter shut at the sweetness of the drink, it was like candy but with a light kick at the end from the alcohol. She loved it and when she opened her eyes again she took the drink from Harry’s strong hand and took another sip.

“This is dangerously good,” she finally says and Harry grins.

“Fantastic! Now we’re ready to start the show,” and he leads them into his living room that is just as big or bigger than his kitchen. A large screen television and a turquoise velvet couch are the main attractions of the room, at least what Y/N is focused on. There’s more art and posters up in this room, a lovely round coffee table and gorgeous vintage rug.

“Wait, Susan?” she circles back to Harry’s earlier comment about Emma Corin and their shared stylist.

Harry smiles and sits next to her comfortably, placing the drinks on coasters and the other various items on the coffee table.

“It’s my nickname for Harry since we’re both...Harry. Just felt silly calling each other Harry and Sue and Susan, they just fit so well.”

She nods, “I see.” But she didn’t really get it. She’d never had a friend where they only called each other a different name from their own, maybe a nickname that she would occasionally call them, but never one so ingrained that she would call them it when referring to them to someone else who surely didn’t know them and wouldn’t know them by the different name. Not that she really knew who Harry Lambert was in the first place, but it still made more sense than Susan. She shook it off just as another quirk of Harry being who he was.

They settle in for the show and they love talking through it, which Y/N was happy that Harry liked to talk during shows as well. She hated when people shushed her during movies and shows when she had something to say. They commented on the fashion and how wild some of the stuff was. Thankfully, as well, even Harry thought some of the things the royals did were absurdly lavish.

“He is so hot,” she finally says when Prince Charles is on the screen for another time and she can’t keep it in anymore, “How could they cast him for Prince Charles, they are far too kind.”

“Josh?” Harry questions, glancing over at his friend curled up on the couch next to him. She had her feet tucked beneath her legs and had her body on its side while staring at the television.

“Don’t tell me you know him too?” She says, taking her focus off the TV to look at Harry, a chocolate chip landing in her mouth once she finished talking.

Their blue slushies had been finished and the popcorn was half eaten. She was pretty sure they were on the second episode already.

He laughs, “No, but Emma says he’s very nice...He is rather attractive.”

That makes her smile, the both of them finding an actor attractive. It felt like Harry was like one of her friends from home, chatting about boys, something she really didn’t do anymore.

“Maybe you can introduce us,” she laughs, her head nudging at Harry’s shoulder beside her.

She doesn’t notice Harry’s lack of mirth at her joke as she turns her attention back to the screen, re-immersing herself in the plot. He twitches slightly uncomfortably at the thought of him introducing her to someone she might be interested in romantically.

“Why not,” he says half-heartedly and he hopes she doesn’t notice his tone.

-

The next day was Friday and she had the day off as per usual.

After three episodes of the Crown, she and Harry had decided to call it a night. He had offered that she could spend the night so she didn’t have to walk home after she had refused to let him walk her across the street. However, she declined, saying she didn’t like leaving Rori alone at night, especially since he was still getting used to the new house. Harry had understood but she could tell he was saddened by her leaving.

She had decided to plant some flowers in her front yard, hoping to liven it up. She had bought some plants at the local flower shop, pansies and aster thinking that purple and gold would look lovely together. She planned to set to work with little experience, but plenty of intention. Rori was outside with her for moral support, prancing through the growing grass and nibbling at the shrubs, more like a bunny than a dog.

Her mother had gifted her gardening tools a long time ago and their entire family had laughed because they knew Y/N didn’t have a green anything, most definitely not a green thumb. Today she had grabbed them and the plants and had placed it all in front of her planters. Then she sat there and went on her phone, scrolling through it mindlessly. She had no idea what she was doing or where to start so getting distracted was easy.

“Need any help?”

Her head turns and she slides away her phone with a sigh, knowing exactly who had just kindly asked to lend a hand.

Harry squints down at her and in this moment she is especially aware of just how tall Harry actually is. Normally she notices his height and thinks ‘yeah he’s tall’, but right now he towers over her. His hair is catching the surprising fall sun and causing glints of gold to radiate off him. His eyes are especially light right now and she feels oddly unnerved by their color, the hazy mint of some kind of predator. He is such a presence and she thought she had finally gotten used to him being in her life, but in this moment she is taken aback. She shakes her head after a moment too long of staring up at him.

“Hi,” she breathes and stands up from her sitting position. “I was just starting to do some planting, and I don’t know if you can tell but I have no gardening skills whatsoever.”

She gestures to her set up and Harry turns his gaze from her to the plants and smiles. He had been coming back from his morning jog and instead of entering his gate, he walked through hers. He looks at everything and reaches down to pet Rori when he comes running up happily to his friend.

“Well, it looks like a good start. Aster is an interesting thing to plant…” He kneels down to start digging up the soil in the planters.

She kneels beside him and watches him attentively. “I wanted chrysanthemums, they’re one of my favorites. But they were out, so it will have to do.”

“It will do perfectly,” he looks up at her from his work, “you wouldn’t have picked it if it wasn’t amazing.”

She makes a small smile at his statement, but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes up mimicking his actions with the soil.

“Do you garden a lot?” Her voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the quiet that had fallen over them.  

“Not much anymore, I don’t really have the time, but I used to with my mum.”

She hums and scratches behind Rori’s ears absentmindedly when he looks curiously at what they’re doing.

They work silently, only talking intermittently. At one point, she grabs them glasses of water from the kitchen, mostly for Harry because he’s actually working up a sweat planting her garden. Harry hums random songs that are on his mind and she wishes he would sing for her, but she would never dare ask him to.

They talk about the Crown and how much they loved all the clothes in it last night and where the plot is going since they know the true history it’s based on. Harry offers British insight into the Royals that she had never thought about and they even venture into British politics which she admits she never really thought about since usually the US politics is far more in the spotlight.

He talks about his views on politics and she gives hers, even stranger though they even venture further into usually rocky territory and discuss religion. She is very interested by what Harry has to say about religion, his answers are both completely expected and unexpected. Something she’s noticed about Harry with her is that she always seems to be surprised by what he says, but it still manages to make complete sense after a moment.

“I’m going back to LA tomorrow,” Harry muses as he regards one of the pansies, like he’s almost staring it straight in the eye.

“Oh?” She turns to face him.

She stops her aimless moving about of the dirt. She had mostly been playing with the dirt while he did the majority of the work. She just didn’t enjoy it. Harry had definitely made the activity palatable. She’d have to tell him she would have likely given up an hour ago had he not been there.

He sighs and sets the pansy into the hole in the soil he had made for it. “More shooting for the movie, I’ll be gone for another month.”

“Wow…I think saying goodbye to you is just going to get harder and harder.” She looks away, her arms crossing over herself instinctively when the wind blows just a little too hard.

Harry looks at her now and sees her curling in on herself and he wants to hug her, but they weren’t like that. Instead he places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slowly up and down trying to offer her some warmth.

“I think we’ve made enough progress today. It’s starting to get cold, hm?”

She looks at him now and nods, her hand moving up and capturing his in hers. Like they had when Harry walked her home after his game, their fingers twist and turn around each other. Their eyes shying between each other’s faces and interlocked hands.

She springs to her feet after a couple quiet minutes of dodging eye contact and simply enjoying the feel of one another against each other.

“I should thank you for all this help,” she starts and Harry gets up to stand, beginning to say there is no need for a thank you for what he did.

“No, no.” She stops him, “I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without your help and I took up all of your day, practically.” She takes hold of his hands now to examine the dirt that has managed to cover them since he was convinced that she should wear the gloves her mother gave her. “You should come over tonight and I’ll cook you dinner. I’m a much better cook than I am a gardener.”

Harry looks at her quietly, his eyes blinking slowly. Like he’s basking in the small movements she’s making on his hands. She traces the little cross that straddles his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand.

“I’ll make sure to bring dessert then.” He smiles and tilts his head to the right and a little forward towards her. She gazes up at him softly. “I might even bring something extra special.”

She raises her brows, “A special treat from Harry Styles himself. I’ll be anxiously awaiting your return then.” She taunts him only slightly because what he had said just about brought her to her knees. The way his smile had shifted to a smirk and how his voice has grown quiet and low, it just felt very intimate.

Harry returns at half past six, as requested by Y/N. He was freshly showered and cologned and she had never found a man more attractive than in that moment. Before he came over he told her he was dressing nice and she had no idea what that might mean with him. But when she saw him, she understood.

What it meant was a crisp blue big collared Gucci dress shirt unbuttoned almost half way down his chest revealing his ever present cross and fitted high waisted brown trousers. His fresh haircut meant for the 50’s slicked back with pieces beginning to fall about just perfectly. No belt, no cufflinks, and no suit coat. Instead of a coat he had on a jacket that was similar to her giraffe jacket he had borrowed all those days ago. His own was comfortably settled over his shoulders and it was obviously made of fabrics far nicer than hers and wasn’t fraying in any place.

He posed in her doorway and even gave a twirl at which time Y/N laughed happily. It looked amazing on him, she had no idea how her jacket had been the thing that started this all.

“How do you like it?” He asks seriously. “Does it look alright?”

“It looks perfect on you, Har. Is that the extra special surprise?”

He smirks smugly at her compliment and comes into the home, greeting Rori quickly before following her back into the kitchen where she was still cooking.

“Oh no,” he says and places a bag filled with a bottle of red wine and a pint of her favorite ice cream on the counter (and the surprise tucked neatly at the bottom of the bag).

She looks at him quizzically as he begins to take the items out of the bag.

“There’s one last thing in there,” he points to the bag casually, while putting the ice cream in her freezer. “Do ya’ mind grabbing it for me, dove?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag. Her hand retrieves a magazine from the bottom of the bag and when she flips it over to the front side, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Harry! Oh my god!” Her hand goes to her mouth as she takes in the cover.

A US Vogue magazine with Harry on the front of it. He’s blowing up a balloon in the photo and he looks beautiful. His skin is flawless and his hair is luscious and flowing a little longer than he kept it now due to the movie.

“I’m a Vogue cover model now, eh?” He asks, looking on apprehensively as she begins to gingerly flick her fingers through the magazine’s pages.

“This is the surprise?” She looks up from the page with him and Gemma sitting side by side.

Harry nods and watches her absentmindedly trace his face on the page.

“Do you like the pictures?” His voice is soft and almost timid?

“Of course!” She exclaims, not wanting to let any doubts pass through Harry’s mind. “Is this what you were doing up in Scotland a couple months ago, right before we became friends and you said you wanted to surprise me with something top secret?”

He nods again, his grin creeping onto his face as she stares at the photo of him in the cover photo’s outfit where you can see the entire dress.

“I want that dress...did they let you keep it?” She continues flicking through the pages lightly and glancing at Harry across from her. The dinner forgotten for the moment.

“It’s Gucci, I didn’t keep it, but I’m sure I could call Susan and get you one ordered,” he replies easily, leaning over the counter to watch the magazine.

She scoffs, “I can’t afford a Gucci gown for no reason...AND before you try to say you’ll pay for it, I would never accept such a gift and I am so for real about that, Harry.”

He waves his hands out in front of him as if to say he’d never suggest such a thing even though they both knew he’d buy it for her in a heartbeat.

“These pants…” she mutters, eyes now fixed on the trousers Harry is wearing in a specific photo in the magazine. They’re tan with a darker stripe on the side of them but the most intriguing part is all of the different drawings on it that seemed to be all related to Harry.

“They’re fab, no?” He quirks a brow at her, his face still holding an apprehensive grin like she’ll take back her praise at a moment’s notice.

“So fab,” she echoes. “Are they bespoke?” Her question has a hint of sarcasm dripping behind it, knowing by now Harry was notorious for custom-made items.

“What gave it away?” He wiggles his brows.

Her eyes flicker to meet his and she sees they’ve ended up face to face once again. It seemed to happen too often with one another. She settles the magazine down and stands up straight. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in the proximity of his inviting lips. The proximity of his warmth that had seemed to seep into all facets of her life in the last two months or so. It was wonderful and warm, but it wasn’t hers. She shared him with so many other people and she couldn’t get carried away with him because tomorrow he’d be gone.

“That really is amazing Harry. I’m very proud of you, but if you don’t want a burnt dinner, I need to start paying attention to what I’m cooking.” She turns away from him and she quickly takes a palm to swipe beneath her eye, collecting the stray liquid that somehow fell from her eye. Funny thing, she wasn’t cooking with onions.

Harry doesn’t notice the movement, simply sighing that she turned from him yet again. He ran a hand through his hair, further tousling the once coiffed hairdo and then twisted his ‘H’ ring around his finger before settling on a bar stool to flip through the magazine and watch her cook.

“When does the magazine come out?” She calls as she stirs the sauce that she’d be pouring over their spaghetti squash once it was finished baking.

“Next week, They’ll release the story online and then I’ll be hitting shelves,” he muses, reading a different story in the magazine, not particularly interesting in himself.

“I’m sure you’ll be flying off those shelves the second you’re placed down.” She laughs at her joke and Harry rubs his lips with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

“You think so?” His eyes sparkle with mischief at his question.

She turns her head, an open-mouthed grin already on her face, a slight scoff falling from her mouth, “Oh c’mon, you know so. I think you’re one of the most loved men in the world and people fall more and more in love each year.” She almost added ‘and I don’t blame them’ but she refrained thankfully.

“Most loved...I like that. Such an interesting way to put it.”

“I mean, you’ve been famous for what? Ten years now? That’s a long time and I don’t think you’re going anywhere...At this point it’s not about how big your celebrity star is, it’s your level of belovedness and I think that level is quite high.” She comments on something about Harry they never talked too much of. Sometimes they talked about him knowing famous people and about the work he had to fly off to do, but never the specific fame of it all. She didn’t really think Harry liked to talk about.

She didn’t have much of an opinion on it, it didn’t matter to her whether Harry was a famous multi-talented big-C celebrity or he was a nobody with a random job. As long as he was still her neighbour she would never complain. He made her so happy and maybe if he hadn’t been famous he wouldn’t be the way that he was so she would never say it was a nuisance. It just came along with him.

“Well...like I said, it’s a lovely way to put it. So, thank you for that.”

He stands up now, forgetting the magazine and rounding the counter to find a cork for the wine seeing that Y/N was doing the final touches on their food.

They eat dinner across from each other at her modest-sized dinner table. Harry slips his giraffe coat off and rolls up his sleeves to allow him to “really dig in” to the dinner she made for them. Maybe some footsy occurs beneath the table but neither of them would ever admit to it so did it really happen? Just feet moving randomly and happening to rub against one another every so often.

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the two of them join Rori in the living room where he’s curled up on one of the throw pillows. Y/N runs back to the kitchen to scoop them ice cream and whips of two Moscow Mules to go with it because she had brought up how when she usually goes home for the holidays, her and her sister always have a competition of who can make the most unique but best tasting Moscow Mule. Harry had said how he’d love to be there one day for that and she had blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear from the comment before taking a large gulp of wine. Since that wasn’t possible right now, her tipsy mind had decided that the next best thing was to make some basic ones right now.

“I bring a Mule and an ice cream,” she says airly, playing like a royal herself, as she holds them out to Harry.

He laughs softly and accepts them graciously, doing a slight head bow to her. Before he can say anything she’s a flash of plaid and red as she runs back for her own ice cream and drink. He had been complimenting her plaid pants with golden bees on them all night and asked her where she got them, teasing that they must be Gucci, but all she would say is that he couldn’t have them to go make a copy of this time.

She re-enters the room and dims the lights with her hip. Then she settles beside him, clinking her glass with him and they both take their first sip.

“Hmmm,” Harry hums after he tastes the cocktail, “I like it.”

“Moscow Mules are a favorite with my family,” she muses, flicking through the television to get them set up to watch the Crown again.

“Maybe I should meet them and thank them for bestowing such a good favorite unto their daughter?” Harry asks and she laughs and rolls her eyes. Questions of meeting family when they were just friends didn’t need a response. Right?

They spoon ice cream into their mouths as the show begins and they murmur comments to one another throughout the episode. They idly pet Rori sometimes as he moves randomly around the room trying to find the place he likes most. Once Harry’s done with his ice cream, Rori thinks his chest is the best place to be and Y/N can’t help but snap a quick photo of it.

“Not quite as handsome without the dress, but it’ll do,” she sighs and snuggles into Harry’s side. Her hand reaches up to scratch at Rori which then leaves her arm wrapped around Harry when her dog inexplicably leaves to go to bed a few minutes later.

He was an awfully good wingman Harry would easily admit at a much later date.

They stay cuddled casually with one another for the entirety of two more episodes and they realize they’re more than halfway done with the season. A yawn from Y/N cues to Harry that he should suggest they pause for the night. She agrees easily, her head nuzzling into his strong shoulder for a little while.

Harry takes the remote from her and turns off the television before flicking on the side table turquoise glass-blown lamp.

“Can I put some music on?” He whispers in her ear, already knowing the answer, but waiting for her to nod her head. She obliges and he slowly slides her onto the couch beneath them. Then he begins padding around her house to find her speaker.

“Arrow Through Me” by Harry’s all time role model Paul McCartney’s second band Wings begins to play through the speakers. What a fucking moutful.

She perks up at the music and sits up straighter on her couch. Her smile grows as Harry shakes his hips a little and moves to the beat of the song as he makes his way back over to the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead of words ringing loud through the room, it's the sound of a phone buzzing from somewhere between a few cushions on the couch

“Oh shit...shit, shit, shit,” she awakens herself out of her daze with her profanity. Attempting to find her phone rather haphazardly, she stumbles around the couch.

It’s Harry who fishes the phone from beneath a throw pillow and hands it over to his friend. She smiles thankfully, her hair a little messy and her eyes slightly crazed, before picking up the phone without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?...Cate?...Oh, hey….No, I didn’t look at the ID...figured it was you or someone in the states...no one in the UK would call me right now...It’s almost midnight here, you asshole,” she pauses and points at the phone and mouths “it’s Cate” like Harry hadn’t been sitting there listening to the entire conversation.

“I’m just hanging out watching the new season of Crown...with Harry...yeah, that Harry,” she flits her eyes to Harry for a second and rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“Talk to him? I mean.. I can put you on speaker, I guess?” She looks at Harry and he nods his head eagerly.

She rejoins him on the couch and places the phone on the coffee table, tapping on the speaker.

“You’re on speaker now.”

“Hi Harry!” Cate crackles over the line, happily, likely just awoken from her slumber in California.

“Hullo, love,” he says sweetly, his voice beginning to slow even more as the night wears on.

Y/N rolls her eyes at both of her friends, knowing Harry was laying it on thick and that Cate would squeal over this exchange for the next three weeks.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” She inquires sweetly and Harry makes an arched brow at Y/N and she only supplies a shaken head and a shoulder shrug.  

“Cate….” Y/N drags out, annoyed with her for both saying that and for calling just as she was planning on going to sleep.

“Sorry! Friends, I know. Even though staying in on a Friday night with just the two of you doesn’t sound very friendly…” She begins to ramble on,  but Y/N offers another warning ‘Cate’. Cate takes the hint and finishes her teasing. “Anyways…”

Harry and Y/N are completely red, sitting next to one another but grateful for the minimal lighting.

“I was just calling to check-in. Do you know what you’re doing for the holidays yet? I know you don’t do thanksgiving anymore - which was yesterday by the way - since you’re all British now.”

Y/N scoffs at her close friend and Harry nudges her side about the British thing.

“I don’t know yet, I have to see my work schedule and all that. I don’t know if I want to fly across the world this year though…” She trails off, kind of quieting in hope that Cate will miss it.

Harry regards the conversation, casually interested, yet intrigued since he had been meaning to ask the exact same question.

Cate hums, obviously unhappy with the response. “Alright. And you Harry? Do you usually go home to your family for the holidays?”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Y/N interjects.

Harry places a hand on her thigh to let her know that it’s completely fine. An easy smile on his lips as he speaks to the phone. Y/N places her hand over Harry’s on instinct.

“Usually, yeah. This year we were thinking of all going out to my place in Italy so it’s kind of up in the air right now. When I get back from LA, I’ll probably finalize it.”

“LA you said? We should get together while you’re here.”

“Cate. He’s there on business.”

“I know...but still. It’s fine,” Cate laughs lightly, knowing she was pushing her luck with this conversation as it was. “Anyways, darling, I just wanted to tell you I miss you and that Harry’s not allowed to replace me as your best friend. Y’hear that Mr. Styles?”

“I sure do, love.”

Everyone laughs whole heartedly and Harry and Y/N are still playing with each other’s fingers on top of her thigh.

Y/N thinks that’s enough of the conference call with Harry and Cate so she snatches the phone with her free hand and raises it back to her ear.

“Alright, Cate, I think we’re going to head to bed...not...not like that...I hate you...Now I definitely don’t want to come home...I’m kidding, I’ll think about it...Love you, too….Yeah I’ll tell him...Have a nice day…”

She throws the phone on the coffee table again and falls back on the couch. Her head rolls to rest on Harry’s broad shoulder and she sighs softly. Harry moves his head to rest over hers, chuckling softly. His sweet breaths of joy are why he then receives a soft slap on his far arm, only making him laugh more.

“Shut up,” her muffled voice comes out from against his blue shirt that is far more crumpled than it was when he came over hours ago.

“She’s so funny,” he laughs again, nosing his face into her hair.

“She tries to get away with way too much,” she sighs and Harry just pats at her side, smiling and not caring at all about the things Cate was hinting at because he wanted what she was alluding to to be reality.

“Y’know I have a question because she said I can’t be your best friend and that’s fine with me, but I wanted to tell you something, love.”

Her head raises to look Harry in the eye, slightly confused by his preface.

“You’re my best friend,” he says earnestly in the dark living room, “Is that allowed?”

His accent was thick with anticipation, the night wearing on his vocal cords. It was so quiet in the room, Harry was sure she just heard him swallow his own saliva - he had paused the music after a minute into the call with Cate. He blinks twice while waiting for any response, he stares straight at her.  

Her eyes barely shine through the darkness as she looks back at him. His question rattled through her mind. ‘Is it allowed’ for him to think of her as his best friend. It just didn’t make complete sense to her and she wasn’t sure if she should vocalize that doubt. But as his eyes begin to mist like a forest on a cold morning she knows she has to say something.

Her eyelids shut as she lets out a heavy breath, the processing of what Harry’s just said finishes.

“It’s allowed...Do you mean it?”

“Course I mean it,” his voice cracks, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips.

She straightens up, moving slightly from his warm embrace. He becomes fidgety without her tucked in his side. His fingers itch without her arm to caress. His lips move between his teeth without her hair to ghost over.

When she remains silent, Harry decides to continue.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he croaks and she furrows her brow at this. “It was the day you moved in...Had just come home from my morning run and you’d pulled up in your moving van. I thought you had on the coolest pair of jeans I’d ever seen…” He pauses. He takes a deep breath and her eyes are watering now.

“I also thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen and I knew I had to know you.”

“Why’d it’d take you so long?” Is all she asks as she tries to will away the water welling in her eyes.

Harry rolls his lips together and breathlessly laughs, head tilted up to the sky. “Never knew how to approach ya’. Then you bumped into me, felt like it was the universe kicking me for being so damn slow.”

She bites her lip, a tear rolling down her cheek finally. “Oh, Harry.”

Then there it is. What the last few months had been leading up to. The moment where they no longer were able to wonder what the other would taste like. No more guessing. No more wondering. It was concrete. It was her lips pressed to Harry’s. She laughed lightly after a moment, pressing closer to him. His lips felt like the softest pillow she could ever lay on and she never wanted to get out of bed.

A small breath came out of his nose as he pressed eagerly back against her. She tasted like ginger and chocolate and maybe cherry - her chapstick possibly. He sucked at her lips, never wanting the taste or the feeling to go away. She was so soft and smooth and she responded quickly to his push.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and into his hair as he pulled her closer by her waist. They were attempting to inhale one another, taking inventory of every possible crevice of each other they hadn’t touched before.

Harry’s lips part slightly as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She giggles, tugging him over her and opening up her mouth easily. He pushes forward, a small sound leaving his mouth as he shifts them into a lying position on the couch, her legs encircling his waist.

A hand runs along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her arm. It lands so that he can intertwine their hands together. He feels her smile beneath him and he smiles back despite their lips never leaving one another. His other hand caresses her cheek as he kisses her.

Eventually, his lips roam around her face and on her neck aways, but mostly he focuses on her lips. Both of them are more than happy with this decision as they continue on for what feels like hours. Yet still those hours don’t feel long enough.

She pulls at a button on his shirt at one point, but Harry pulls back.

“I think we should call it a night.”

“Really?” She looks at him with confusion and a swirl of hurt in her eyes.

“It’s late, love, and… we just, I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Alright,” she nods, sitting up and running a finger down the side of his face.

“I think I’ve been doing best friends wrong all this time.” she muses, tracing lines on Harry’s neck now. Her eyes focused on her work.

“And why’s that?” Harry asks, his own hands running up and down her back.

“I’ve never snogged a best friend for hours on end.” She laughs and Harry can’t help his snort.

He moves his head to rest on her shoulder, almost like a hug, but not quite. She doesn’t move away, simply turns her head to continue watching her hands trace him, her work now moving to the back of his neck and his upper back and shoulders.

He hums a little bit, a love song he had played for himself the last few weeks when he tried to fall asleep and all that he could think of was her. She smiles softly and places a kiss on his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, darling.”

Harry nods, wrapping his arms around Y/N and carrying her to her room.

-

The next morning she finds herself wrapped happily in a set of strong, tattooed arms. She sighs content, snuggling closer to the warm naked chest in front of her.

“G’morning,” the man beneath her whispers. His voice a low rumbling rasp, she feels the vibrations below her.

“Morning,” she mumbles, nuzzling her nose into the crevice of his sternum, just above the butterfly that lives on his chest.

He hums at the feeling, slightly shivering from the cold, but pulls her closer nonetheless. She caresses his side with a light touch in response. Her fingers trace unknown patterns down his ribcage and then dip to the ferns peeking from his boxers. He shifts slightly when her fingers travel there. A place no one but him had touched in a long time.

“’ve got a plane to catch,” he says sadly and he brushes a hair from her face as she turns to look at his face.

His neck strains to regard her and he has a bit of a double chin from this angle, but she couldn’t care less. He looked so beautiful staring down at her. She never wanted to look away or lose this image. His eyelashes lightly caressed the skin just below his eyes everytime he blinked. It was quiet enough that if she listened close she could hear each flutter. The eyes behind them were even better, a dark rim of green encases emerald irises that hold black and gold specs, stars and stories swirl hidden beneath it all. She wants to drown in it.

He winks at her as she stares, growing disarmed with her intense gaze on him for so long. Her calming caress keeps him grounded though and she laughs at the wink, relieving him of her scrutiny that he didn’t understand was awe.

She groans, unhappy, “Miss it.”

“I can’t,” he drags out, not wanting to leave either.

“Can’t convince you to stay, no?” She rolls on top of him, pushing her chest against him and giving him doe eyes.

His strong arms encircle her waist as her legs straddle him. She arches more into him and leans down to kiss in between his pecs. Her eyes never leave his face, watching his reaction. It’s his turn to groan with a loud sigh to match. He throws his head back and steals himself to say,

“Not even a chance.”

She remembers when he had begged her to come with him and she smiles at his recycling over her response.

“Fair enough,” she says and rolls off of him. His head falls to the side to watch her get up and begin her day. He takes a deep breath, wishing he didn’t have to leave.

Harry heads back to his place to get ready for his departure. Before he leaves he joins Y/N and Rori for an early tea at the café. They get their drinks to go and walk back to Harry’s together. When they arrive, Harry’s car is waiting and she feels a dryness in her throat. He looks down at Rori and gives him a quick pet. He turns to her and she smiles weakly.

Harry’s hand encircles her wrist, caressing her softly. He leans down quickly and pecks her lips. It feels like he was barely there and then he was gone. It was like a butterfly had landed on her lips and wrist and then it had vanished.

Off his sleek black car goes, soon out of sight and headed for the airport. And there she is, left on Sherwood Avenue. Her fingers move to dance over her lips and then over her jaw and down her neck. Every place his touch had burned her in the past 24 hours. And now he was gone, across the world.

No talk of what came next had been spoken between them. She wasn’t sure what they were and didn’t know if she could handle that talk over the phone. She walked home after a few minutes of standing with her dog in front of Harry’s now vacant home. She sat silently in her house for half of the day.

At dusk, she decides on a run, maybe it will get her mind off her neighbour. She had sat in the same spot for too long. The same spot they had kissed each other last night. Maybe a change of scenery would stop the movie reel of last night that kept playing over and over in her mind.

She runs down the street, specifically keeping her eyes off the lovely home across from her, and keeps running down different streets, past the café, down to the park, and then finally reaches a stream that is past some brush and trees at the end of the park. There’s a bench there that seems like a nice place to rest.

Her music has been playing the entire time, the playlist she chose was inundated with Taylor Swift - but not chosen for that specific reason. Each song thankfully not from 1989. At least not until she’s running through the park. “You are in love” begins to play, it’s soft Twin Peaks-esque opening is familiar to her. It fits the cool rush of wind against her skin and the leaves that have turned brown as fall has worn on. She’d listened to it a thousand times. Sometimes thinking about the man who inspired the song, but all those times were long before she had ever met him.

Now that she knew him, she almost skipped it, but shook her head to herself feeling silly for feeling uncomfortable listening to a song she liked. Her run turns into a walk as she reaches the stream. The chorus begins. Taylor softly serenades about being in love. About a man in love with a woman. About Harry being in love with her.

She takes a deep breath, hearing the words a little different this time. Taylor sings “You kiss on sidewalks” and this morning flashes in her mind. She looks out at the stream, the water rushing along as she stands there, still catching her breath. Then the next part of the song reaches into her heart and twists it with all its might.

“One night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, ‘you’re my best friend’.”

And that’s it. She takes out her headphones, her breath no longer capable of being caught. She breathes heavier and heavier. Her throat was as tight and dry as when Harry had left this morning. Possibly even worse. She can’t even swallow this time. Her phone and headphones are discarded on the bench as she raises her hands to her face and begins to pace beside the stream. Her eyes eventually match the body of water next to her and she feels a sob wrack through her. She couldn’t breath, her running and panic had brought her asthma to the forefront and she was hyperventilating, gasping for air. She was drowning and no one was there to help her.

Tears stream down her face and she moves her hands to her thighs as she tries to calm down, not knowing how she reached this level of distraughtness. Deep breaths she reminds herself. She licks her lips and shuts her eyes. “Just ground yourself,” she whispers.

When she’s finally gotten ahold of herself she sits at the bench and stares into the stream. A distorted version of herself seems to stare back. It’s constantly moving, swirling, and changing  and as she watches that version of herself she wants to scream. Her tears had faded awhile ago, but the fear was still there.

The last few months had been so easy, had been so perfect. Going over to each other’s houses and being with each other. But if she ignored history wasn’t she destined to repeat it? When she heard the confessional of the man Taylor had loved in her song, when he had told her she was his best friend which meant he was in love, she felt hurt. She knew how their story ended. Taylor and Harry’s. He left. He left her when she needed him and today, Y/N realized it’s what he does. It wasn’t his fault, she didn’t blame him for leaving today. It was his job, not another woman. But holy fuck when she heard Taylor sing those lyrics, it felt like she had been hit on the head out of nowhere. Reminded that she had been living in a fairytale for the last few months, swept up in a fantasy that she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

She ran a hand over her face, rubbing slightly at her cheek. The same cheek Harry had caressed last night and she sighed. She stared off into the trees and then shook her head, standing up and heading back home. Alone.

Harry calls her when he arrives at LAX. She doesn’t pick up. He calls the next day. She doesn’t pick up. He texts and receives no response for three days.

She thought she didn't know what she would say.

“I listened to too much of your ex’s music and now I’m insecure.”

“I feel like you’re gonna leave me someday so I’m too afraid to do anything with you.”

“Is it alright if we’re just friends, I don’t think my heart could take the pain of falling in love with you and then losing you.”

“You can’t promise me forever and after just one kiss I knew I couldn’t do anything less.”

“The price of loving you is far too high.”

She types them all out and then deletes them every time. Too scared. Instead:

“I’m busy with work, I don’t know when I won’t be. Let’s just plan on meeting up when you’re home.”

Harry nods when he sees the text on Friday. He tells her to take care and make sure she gets enough rest. He wipes away the stray tear that decided to escape his eyes after reading her response. He exhales and looks to the sky, wondering what could have possibly happened since he had left. He sends little emojis over the next few weeks that she puts a heart on, but she doesn’t communicate otherwise.

Harry doesn’t ask her to pick him up. Instead he sends flowers to her house the Thursday before he returns. They make her smile and she wonders if maybe she can move past every red flag she feels like she sees. After a month away, she can’t lie and say she’s not excited for Harry to return. She missed his warm skin and his soft hair. She missed everything and the flowers had only made her wish it had been Harry on her doorstep a couple days early.

He gets home on the 12th and he’s at her door after throwing his things in his entryway.

She opens the door and bites her lip as she takes in who it is.

Harry says her name breathlessly and she melts. Her doubts fly out the window for the moment and all she wants are his lips on hers.

She falls into him and his lips are on hers. They twist into one another and their lips move softly yet urgently against one another. Not sure how to explain the last four weeks, they both attempt to say everything in that kiss. All her pain and confusion press into Harry’s lip with each breath. All his sadness and longing tug at her lips as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and hungers for more.

He pulls back and stares straight into her eyes, “Come to Italy with me for the holidays.”

She tilts her head confused, trying to catch her own breath.

“I’m not sure what happened while I was gone, love. But I know I missed you and I can’t go another month without you. Just say yes and we’ll take it from there...Please,” he begs, voice cracking as he holds her cheek.

She wets her lips and opens them to speak, but her voice betrays her. Instead she just nods and squeaks out a noise of approval. Too elated to speak, they press their lips back together and she pulls Harry into her home. 

December was far too cold to snog out in the freezing night air.

-

[yslkook]

ships in the night

pairing: seokjin x reader summary: jin is your best friend. he’s engaged, and your heart is broken. (pining, best friends, unrequited love, open ending) word count: 3221 warnings: cursing, alcohol, a/n: enjoy this word vomit lolol im still getting comfortable writing for bts!!

***

It shouldn’t be as nice a day as it is- a light, summer breeze, nearly clear skies and the bright sun. It feels like you should be happier than you are. 

If the weather was fitting of your mood, it would be grey and stormy. Instead of wallowing with your broken heart in the comfort of your apartment, you’re in Seokjin’s apartment building. More specifically, you’re at his rooftop, waiting for his arrival.

You ignore the pitying looks from his friends and from your own friends as you make yourself busy for his return. With his presumed fiancee. 

Today was the day he proposed to his girlfriend, and you (as his best friend of nearly ten years) had taken it upon yourself to plan the after party. How masochistic of you. To plan the next chapter of his life with his new fiancee when you’ve been madly in love with him for the better part of your twenties. Now that you’re approaching your thirties, you’ve made it a promise to get over him.

And yet, you separated your empty abyss of emotions from your genuine desire to see him happy. His to-be fiancee was an acquaintance of yours as well. Of course, you weren’t close with her… You could compartmentalize but not that well. You couldn’t fake it any more than you had to. She was a nice girl, you supposed. She made Seokjin happy.

But she wasn’t you. And you’d never be that person to him. It was a fact that you had accepted a long time ago and somehow since then, your heart has been locked in this icy cage that you didn’t want to chip at.

You step away from the table where the alcohol, food and desserts are to look at your work. At the corner sits a flowery backdrop for photos with props. The entire area is decorated with fairy lights and small bouquets of Seokjin’s favorite flowers and his fiancee’s favorite flowers. Her friends had given you some input, but you were running the show and they both knew it. 

It was the last thing you could give to him before having to face the fact that he’d never truly be yours again.

The afterparty itself is a surprise to her and you’re certain she’ll love it- her friends and family are so excited for her, champagne tears dotting their eyes.

And then his friends look at you like they want to hug you and yell at you at the same time. They didn’t like her in the beginning and they only really tolerated her now. Because Jin loves her and because you told them to back the fuck off of her. She hadn’t done anything to warrant their dislike of her.

“Hey pretty,” Jimin greets you with a smile and crescent eyes, “Come here often?”

“Do I come to my soulmate’s proposal party often? No, I can’t say that I do,” You say dryly, elbowing him when his smile drops, “Come on, I’m only joking.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and sighs, “If anyone could’ve stopped this madness, it would’ve been you.”

“Madness?” You ask, “Stop it, she’s nice…”

“She’s not,” Jimin says pointedly, “You’re both just so fuckin’ blind. And stupid. So stupid.”

“Don’t start this shit with me, Jimin,” You hiss, “It’s too late, we’re here and that’s that.”

Jimin pulls away and looks at you for a long, long moment. He wonders if you even understand how hurt you are, how heartbroken you are. You hide it behind your jokes as you always have. He won’t be surprised if you leave the party early or if you slip away to the bathroom once Jin and his fiancee arrive.

They’ve been together for three years now. It was only the natural order of things for Jin to propose to her. You had asked him months ago if he was proposing just because he thought it was the right thing to do or because he genuinely wanted to. That discussion had ended in a fight. So you had pulled away, slowly but subtly from him. Already accepting your second place role in his life. Who else would know what he wanted, other than him?

You. You would know. But if every attempt to get him to do some self-reflection was going to end in tears and in a shouting match, you didn’t want to deal with it. Or with him. Or with her.

So you let it be. Like everything else, you let it be. And you let this be the last thing you did for him. You made a promise to yourself. After this, you would move on. 

It takes about an hour for the rooftop to begin filling up with his friends and family, as well as her friends and family. His parents and brother hug you first, before greeting her parents. Jin’s mother looks at you forlornly, as if she can see all of the secrets in your guarded heart. 

You pull away from them quickly, busying yourself with making a drink. You’re going to need it. Jungkook pops up next to you, looping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey you,” You greet him, offering him a smile and a drink in a red solo cup.

“Hey you,” Jungkook says, doe eyes glittering as he unashamedly looks at you, “You look nice.” He moves his hand to the small of your back.

Long gone is the shy boy who couldn’t look a woman in the eye. Next to you stands a man, filled with confidence and poise. 

“I know,” You wink at him, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

It’s true, you had at least given yourself the small joy of dressing up in an olive green sleeveless jumpsuit with a dip in the chest and a cinch at the waist. Jewelry glints on your wrists, at the base of your neck and your ears. You’re wearing your favorite pair of heels and the best part is that your feet aren’t even uncomfortable yet.

You catch up with him and the rest of the boys eventually gather around you both too. Just as you’re throwing your head back in laughter, your phone buzzes in your hand. Jin’s name pops up and your heart races in anticipation. As it always does when he texts you, but you feel like your world is about to implode as you open his text message.

seokjin: she said yes!! seokjin: be there in 15 :) 

You exhale shakily, six pairs of eyes on you. Jimin squeezes your shoulder reassuringly.

you: of course she did!!!!  you: fuck!! ur a fiance now. wowwwww. Im so happy for you jin :))) you: see you soon, everything’s ready 

“They’ll be here in fifteen,” You say with a grin that probably looks out of place on your face, “She said yes.” You take a breath, letting the weight of your words sink in. “She said yes. They’re… engaged.”

You swallow the love and hurt down. Jimin brushes his lips to your forehead. It doesn’t matter. Today is not about you.

Pulling away from them, you turn on your heel to celebrate with Jin’s parents. They’re replying their own congratulations to him. His brother tells you that he had texted you first. You already know that. It doesn’t matter. 

You hug his parents anyway.

***

You stick to the shadows with a drink in your hand once Jin and his fiancee arrive. He’s all smiles, opening the door for her dramatically and giggling at her squeal when she sees the rooftop, her friends and her family. 

Finally, once you see that they have a free moment, you approach them.

“Hey, lovebirds,” You smile with a wave and open your arms.

She hugs you first, to your surprise. “Jin told me you did all of this. Thank you.” She flashes her ring to you and excitedly giggles.

She’s always been after your approval, for some godforsaken reason. Who were you anyway?

“O-oh,” You protest, “No, it was a team effort. Congratulations to you both. This is the least we could do.”

You lock eyes with Jin and wonder if he can see it. If he can see how much this is killing you. He can’t because he sweeps you in for a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m engaged,” He breathes, “We’re in love and I’m engaged!”

“You are, Seokjin! You really are,” You say, vision starting to get blurry. But still you smile brightly, even if it looks out of place.

You can’t be here. You can’t be this close to him, you can’t allow him to see your already broken heart.

“Thank you,” Jin says sincerely, “For everything. You’re the best.”

“Anything for you, Jin,” You say, just as sincerely. You punch his upper arm gently. “I’m so happy for both of you. Let’s do a cheers really quick-”

How do you do it? How do you face him when he holds your beating heart in his unknowing hands?

You say a quick toast, a toast to your best friend and his new fiancee. You throw in a few jokes at your own expense before throwing your drink back and pulling away from them with promises of shots later.

But still, you manage to hold it together. It’s when Jin gives his own toast to his new fiancee in front of his family and friends that you feel the carefully woven threads beginning to fray and come apart. Jungkook senses your distress before anyone else does and he pulls you inside to the private bathroom for you to gather your bearings. He cups your cheeks and your eyes well up with unexplained tears, finally, finally, after months of pretending. And you let them fall. Your muffled cries fill up the walls of the bathroom as he rubs your back soothingly.

“It hurts, Kookie,” You mumble, “It hurts so fucking much. I didn’t think anything could hurt like this.”

“I know,” He murmurs, “I know.”

By the time you go back outside, after touching up your makeup as Jungkook watched, Jin is already drunk. He sees you with Jungkook and wonders why you look so sad. But only for a moment, his fiancee capturing his attention once more.

This time, his fiancee gives a toast. It’s a toast to their new life together, with all of their friends and family part of something special. She cries a little and you do, too. And she’s right- it is a rebirth. Because this is the last time. This is the last time you’ll afford Seokjin any of your tears. Even if he is your best friend. 

Because you’re the one that you should love.

***

Eight months later, the air is chillier but you can’t remember the last time you felt this warm. You’re currently curled under your favorite blankets and watching a movie on your television, nearly dozing off after a glass of wine.

True to your word, you had slowly but surely pulled away from Seokjin. You wondered if he had noticed all of your last minute cancellations and the subtle excuses. You still speak occasionally, but it’s not how it was before. And that’s what you wanted. Because your heart is still hurt and healing. The thought of him still makes you ache, but not as much as before. It’s only been six months, and you know that years of feelings won’t go away instantly.

You know he needed you. But he shouldn’t. Not when his fiancee should be his best friend. Not when she should be his person.

You can’t remember the last time you had even seen Seokjin. Was it at his engagement party? When was the last time you had even talked to him?

Your friends avoid his name and avoid speaking about him to you. You’re grateful for that.

So when your phone starts buzzing incessantly at 11:13 PM, with Jin’s name and contact photo on it, you panic for a full ten seconds. Your heart immediately accelerates out of your chest and you wonder if you should answer.

He hasn’t called you in months.

“Hello?” You ask softly, a nervousness you haven’t felt in a long time creeping up on you.

“Hey,” Jin breathes on the other line, “Didn’ think you’d… pick up.”

“I did, didn’t I?” You reply.

Another five seconds of silence.

“Jin. Are you drinking?” You ask. You hear the familiar lilt in his voice, and he sounds sad.

“Yeah,” Jin laughs tonelessly, “Can’t hide anythin’ from you.”

“You never could,” You chuckle, also tonelessly.

“I did, though,” Jin admits, “Hid somethin’ big from you.”

“That’s okay,” You shrug, “You can have your secrets. I’ve got mine.”

Another few seconds of silence. You don’t know what to say to him. Nervousness colors the insides of your veins but you won’t show it. Not to him, not when he’s calling you when he’s drinking.

“Let me come over. I miss you.”

“Seriously?” You scoff, “I don’t think your fiancee would appreciate that very much.”

Jin laughs. It sounds cruel and jarring.

“We’re not together anymore, stupid. Surprised Jimin or Kook haven’t mentioned it to you,” Jin says, unable to keep the sting out of his voice, “But if you didn’t blow me off for the last six months, you’d know that.”

“That’s not fair, Jin,” You murmur, deciding not to give in to his snark, “Come over. I’m at home.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye and you sigh. You send a text to Jungkook and Jimin, asking them why the fuck Jin called you after this long and why they didn’t tell you that they ended their engagement. Of course, there’s no response- only a chorus of coy emojis from both of them. Idiots.

So you wait. You wait for your soulmate to come back to you. You’re still undecided if you want to welcome him with waiting arms.

***

In the end you do. You can’t say no to his pout and his sunken eyes. You can’t say no when you haven’t properly seen him in months, when you haven’t heard his loud laugh in just as long.

“Seokjin,” You breathe and it comes out like a declaration.

Even if he’s been here a million times before, he feels out of place. You usher him to the couch and bring him a glass of water to sip on.

“What are you doing here, Jin?” You sigh, “What’s going on?”

You wonder if he’s here to break your heart for the millionth time.

“Nothin’,” Jin exhales, “I just fuckin’ missed you.”

You swallow. “What the hell happened? Your engagement?” You change the subject quickly. His face shifts to an expression of pensiveness.

“You were right,” Jin finally says.

“Yes, that’s a given. But about what?”

“Me asking her because I felt obligated to. Rather than actually wanting to,” Jin says vaguely.

“That’s a big miss, Jin,” You say bluntly, “I’m sorry, though. That must have been tough.”

“We fought a lot at the end. We only ended it a few weeks ago…”

“What did you fight about?”

Jin raises an eyebrow, “Lots of things. Towards the end though, it was you.”

“Me?” You nearly shout, “What the hell? That’s not funny, Jin-”

“Why would I be joking about that? I was so upset that we weren’t friends anymore-”

“How can you say to me that I’m the reason that you both ended your engagement! Fuck you Jin,” You mutter, “That’s not fair at all. I didn’t do anything for you both to fuckin’ fight about me.”

Tears blur your vision in frustration and you push yourself farther away from him on the couch. He can’t do this to you, not when you’ve worked so carefully to build yourself up again.

“Will you let me finish?” Jin asks in exasperation, “We were already fighting about anything and everything. And then I was so fucking upset that we were hardly friends and she got sick of me talking about it. Then she said something- well, she said some things…”

“Cut the shit, Jin. What are you here to say?” You ask, anxiety crawling up your arms and curling in your belly.

“She said all my friends thought we were a bad fit-”

“That’s not news to you, Jin-”

“Then she said you’re in love with me. Isn’t that something,” Jin muses and your entire world halts on its axis to a screeching stop, “Said somethin’ about the way you-”

“Stop,” You whisper, “Stop it, Jin. Don’t do this to me, please.”

Your heart is breaking all over again and you are powerless to stop it. You’ve envisioned telling Jin someday about the extent and depth of your feelings for him, but this was the last way you expected it to go.

“Tell me,” He demands, eyes sharp. 

You’ve never lied to him. Not when he’s asked you things directly.

“Tell you what, Jin?” You say sharply, “Tell you how I’ve loved you since we were stupid and in college? How I loved you even through your string of girlfriends that were so shitty to you? How I loved you when it was wrong for me? Fuck, Jin. Yes, I’m so in love with you and it took your fiancee for you to see that-”

“How did you manage it?” Jin asks softly and you’re taken off guard.

“Manage what?”

“All those years. Even the last year- you planned our engagement party. You toasted us, every time the guys said they didn’t like her, you always defended her-”

“She fucking made you happy! That’s what friends do,” You mumble.

“You planned our engagement party, you helped me plan the actual proposal,” Jin says, as if he’s coming to a realization, “And your heart was breaking the whole time. I broke your fuckin’ heart, didn’t I?”

And then your bottom lip trembles, your eyes shine with unshed tears and the dam breaks. He looks lost for a second, wondering if he’s crossing a line. But he’s still Jin, and you’re still you. So he pulls you into his arms without a second thought and crushes you close to him. You want to be selfish with him, you want to take everything he can give you. At least for five minutes, you want to stop thinking of him first before your own needs.

So you allow it. You allow the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead, the way he presses your head into his neck and rubs your shoulders, then your back. You cry for him, you cry for lost time, and you cry for yourself.

“You gonna declare your unrealized love for me now?” You say through puffy eyes with a watery laugh.

“You deserve better than me declaring my love for you not even a month after ending a three year long relationship and a seven month long engagement,” Jin says, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah, you’re damn fuckin’ right I do,” You murmur.

“I missed you,” Jin confesses, “I really missed you.”

“As you should have,” You say, earning a pinch to your shoulder.

Whatever the future holds for the both of you- you feel as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Everything isn’t magically okay, but you feel the same warmth you felt years ago when you first realized your feelings for him. 

[ellewriteswrongs]

picking favorites (a @tsbandau drabble)

if y’all aren’t emotionally invested in @underdog-arts ‘s band au, idk what y’all are even doing /j

anyway, here’s a wholesome family drabble insp. by the band au and my (not-so) subtle obsession with remus and janus. also subbing to their patreon is the best $5 i’ve probably ever spent, no joke

“Honey, you can still pick up Ry, right?” Janus called down the hallway, carrying a basket of laundry on each hip before depositing them in the hallway to put away later. Remus was seated in their shared office catching up on emails as Janus began packing up leftover pasta into containers to take to their show scheduled that night. 

“I told you I got ‘em,” he agreed, banging the last clumps of his protein shake into his mouth with the heel of his hand. “I’m gonna’ jog to V’s and grab the van.”

Janus nodded to themself out of instinct before faltering, their brow furrowing. 

“Wait—Re, that’s like three miles,” they challenged, dumping the dirtied dishes into the sink. “Just take the fucking car.”

Remus’ snort laugh was audible from down the hallway. 

“They asked for the van!” Remus cackled. “And I, for one, do not disappoint. Apparently making my kid’s friends think they’re cool is worth a three-mile jog.”

Janus rolled their eyes, albeit fondly. This was, unfortunately, not news. 

Riley was having an…interesting phase. It wouldn’t be abnormal for kids their age if it weren’t for the fact that their parents were ridiculously competitive, and all of their parents’ friends were eager to get in on it. 

As soon as Remus attended career day in Riley’s first grade classroom, resulting in the entire class of six-year-olds marveling at the fact that their friend’s dad was a “rock star.”

Janus loved that conversation over dinner that night. 

They weren’t jealous. No, in fact, it was probably overdue for Riley to have a bit of a “Daddy’s kid” phase, considering how joined at the hip they were with Janus for multiple years now. But they wanted to win. 

Riley could make their own decisions about picking a favorite parent. As long as that decision was Janus. 

“You’ve gone so-oft,” they sing-songed, smirking as Remus appeared in the kitchen behind them, wrapping one hand around their hip and pressing a kiss to their temple. “Ry’s got you wrapped around their finger.”

Remus have a flash of his crooked grin. 

“Yeah, well…at least I know where they get that from.”

Janus rolled their eyes, trying to hide their reddening face. 

“Sap,” they grumbled fondly. “Hurry up and get on with your run before you’re late to pickup. And tell V I said hey.”

Remus gave an exasperated chuckle and affirmation, but pocketed his keys and wallet nonetheless. 

The jog to Virgil’s apartment wasn’t a particularly strenuous three miles, being downtown and all, and Remus was far from out of shape. Still, three miles was three miles—especially in the late afternoon sun. Needless to say, Virgil wasn’t thrilled to have a giant sweaty man on his doorstep, but he handed over the keys nonetheless. 

The van was old, still clinging to its axels from when Remus himself purchased it from an old neighbor and declared it the band’s “tour bus.” It was nice enough at the time, especially for the price he paid, but it certainly wasn’t still around for anything more than sentimental value. 

Mainly just Remus refusing to get rid of it. 

That, and the fact that, for whatever reason, Riley thought it was the coolest thing ever. 

The drive wasn’t long, only the sitting in traffic of other parents in minivans trying to get into the school parking lot. He…wasn’t a fan of that part of being a parent, that’s for sure. He could do without any other parents, thank you very much, but at least it was fun to see how obvious all of them were in their distaste of both him and Janus, compared to how much their kid absolutely adored them. 

A fact that was only proven when Remus eventually made it to the parking lot and exited his van, only to be met with ear-splitting squeal of “daddy!” and an armful of six-year-old. 

He can’t deny how, even after all these years, the title still makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Like…he is a dad. That’s his kid! How fucking rad is that!

He happens to spot a few other parents, along with some of Riley’s friends that he recognizes, and he offers a quick wave with the hand that isn’t mussing up his kid’s hair. 

“You brought the van,” Riley points out with a toothy grin that Remus can’t help mirroring. He can’t help the knot in his throat when he spots the gap in their teeth from their first ever lost tooth—which only meant they were getting much too old and Remus would really appreciate it if they would slow the fuck down.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Riley nods, bouncing on Remus’ hip just a bit out of excitement. “I gotta’ warn you though, JJ’s getting pretty jealous.”

Riley laughs before sticking out their tongue and making a fart noise in Remus’s face. 

Remus is, for the thousandth time, bewildered at how Riley couldn’t possibly be more like Janus if they tried. And mostly smitten. He has the coolest kid on Earth, after all. 

“They can suck my butt!” Riley squeals and Jesus Christ, Remus is going to have a heart attack right there in the parking lot. He’s gonna’ have to grill Jan again to make sure those two aren’t secretly biologically related. 

“Hey, your words not mine, squirt,” he smirks, opening the van door and strapping them into the car seat. “And your early bedtime if you let JJ hear any of that.”

He finishes with a pinch on their nose before closing the van door and getting back in the driver’s seat. 

Riley, as soon as the radio turn on, starts protesting very aggressively to listen to “your songs, daddy! Play your songs!” 

Thankfully, he has a CD burned with some of their…cleaner songs for that exact purpose. 

Riley, for lack of a better word, was ‘singing’ along at a volume that Remus would’ve otherwise found hilarious and impressive if it wasn’t right in his ear. Still, there was a certain fondness that came with watching his kid’s excitement over his work—something that, as usual, was paired with thrashing within the confines of a car seat and headbanging their little heart out. 

Along the drive Remus made every attempt to stop the barrage of the screamo singer in the making, but all were ultimately unsuccessful. At least…until he pointed out one particular building out of a strip mall assortment. 

“Hey, you see that store right there? The one with the red sign?” He spoke up, catching Riley’s eager attention in an instant. They placed both hands on the van window to look out. 

“What is it?” They asked, squinting to try and read what was on the sign. 

“You know the snake on my leg?” Riley nodded, quieting down. “That’s where JJ took me to get it.”

They paused, seemingly putting some pieces together in their head.

“How come you only have one?” They asked, still kicking their legs against their seat. “JJ has lots, how come you don’t have lots too?”

Remus chuckled, continuing along the road as the light turned green. 

“‘Cause I don’t need another one. They’re very expensive, you know.”

“Is it ‘cause you’re a wimp?” 

Remus choked on his own spit. 

“N-no,” he choked out, laughing. “No I’m not, I just think it looks better this way.”

He didn’t bother looking into the backseat to see what Riley thought of that answer, but if the return to karaoke that followed was any indication, they were not impressed. Still, he’d probably take the teasing over the screaming, but kids are kids. 

Even as they pulled into their driveway, Remus had to strategically dodge Riley’s flailing limbs in order to un-fasten the seatbelts on their car seat and actually get them in the house. Apparently the music was not as vital to the ‘sing-along’ as he’d hoped it was when he turned the car off. 

“Alright, alright, calm those legs down before you knock my teeth out, will ya’?” Remus teased, placing Riley on his shoulders where they instantly took fistfuls of his hair to hold on. Riley toned down the velocity, but otherwise did not stop. “Careful, squirt, if you wanna’ kick so bad, I’m signing you up to play soccer.”

Riley stopped almost instantaneously, gripping Remus’ hair even tighter as they headed back inside the house, Riley’s tiny backpack slung around Remus’ forearm. 

“Nooo,” they wailed, half punctuated by laughter that echoed through the house. 

“What are we complaining about?” Janus spoke, leaning against the doorway across the room with a fond smile. 

“He said if I kick him in the teeth I have to play soccer,” Riley whined, attempting to climb down from Remus’ shoulders on their own. Janus snorted a laugh before swiftly crossing the room to collect their child and place them on their hip. 

“Wow, your daddy’s so mean,” Janus agreed, raising a challenging eyebrow as they stood in front of their husband. Remus pouted before bending down to steal a kiss.

“Gross,” Riley giggled, pressing a hand on each of their parents’ faces to separate them. 

“Gross?” Janus smirked. “Well in that case, maybe your dad was being a bit unfair.”

Riley turned to Remus to stick out their tongue at him. 

“I mean, soccer? That’s just ridiculous,” Janus continued, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “We’ll obviously have to sign you up for football instead. A punt like that has got to be put to good use.”

Riley immediately went back to their dramatized complaining, this time reaching desperately for Remus to get him to take them back from Janus—to which Remus just held up his hands in mock innocence.

“No can do, kid,” he smirked. “The punishment has to fit the crime, after all.”

Riley continued their attempts to wiggle out of Janus’ unyielding grip.

“Never!” They declared, trying a different approach of reaching over Janus’ shoulder to escape from behind. “I won’t! I won’t do it, I promise!”

Remus and Janus both knew they wouldn’t actively try to hurt either of them, but sometimes it was just more fun to assert rules when it came with shrieking laughter and climbing their parents like a jungle gym.

“Well, now you know where we stand,” Remus spoke in false authority, reaching for one of Riley’s tiny shoes and holding it up to address it as if it were in control of their legs. “I better not see you around these parts again, ya’ hear?” He added in an over-the-top western accent, gesturing to his face. 

Riley squealed with laughter as he held out his hand for a handshake and they shook it with their accused foot. 

“Alright, alright, you two,” Janus intervened with fond exasperation. “Snacks are on the counter, take it or leave it.”

Riley whipped their head around to peer into the kitchen, cheering when they spotted two plates on the kitchen counter, each with a toaster waffle piled high with blueberries. 

“Second…breakfast!” They cheered, drumroll-ing on their leg before whooping and slinking out of Janus’ grip and climbing up onto the kitchen barstools. Remus, giving a fond eye-roll at the enthusiasm, turned to drape his arms over Janus’ shoulders from behind, perching his chin on top of their head. 

“They get it from you, you know,” he mumbled, smirking at the scoff it earned him. 

“Shut up,” Janus grumbled, the smile evident in their voice. “That is all you.”

“Babe, sports are a threat in this house,” he teased. “You’re telling me that came from me?”

“Yeah, I’ll take that one,” they chided, turning around to face their husband. “As long as you’re aware that the energy, the volume—honey, that’s all you.”

Remus quirked his brow with a proud smirk. 

“Or maybe it’s the fact that they sleep for fourteen hours and we haven’t even had eight in the last six years,” he challenged knowingly. “You know, I happen to remember that back in the day…that bed was hardly even for sleeping.”

Janus snorted, their face reddening slightly.

“Is it bad to think of those as the ‘good old days’ already?”

Remus swept a piece of their hair out of their face. 

“Hell no, dude. We lived like kings back then,” he chuckled. “How ‘bout this—I’ll get Ro to take ‘em to the park or something this weekend and I’ll dick you down just like old times, ‘kay?”

Janus sputtered out a cackle, smacking Remus on the chest before covering his mouth with their hand.

“Fucking christ, they’re like two yards away,” they hissed, still laughing. “I am not going to be the one fielding questions about what getting dicked down means, oh my god.”

“You say that like they listen to anything when there’s food in front of them,” Remus countered, nodding in the direction of their kid as Janus rolled their eyes with a chuckle. 

“Now that, is from you,” they grinned, jabbing him in the side with their elbow. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re serving up delicacies like toaster waffles,” Remus said, raising his hands in mock defense. 

Janus gave him a look before crossing their arms. 

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I know you can’t go two hours without food. Go on, there’s one for you, even if it’s probably cold by now,” they teased as Remus excitedly kissed their forehead before practically running to the kitchen. He hopped up to sit on the counter, folding each toaster waffle like a blueberry-filled taco before funneling them into his mouth. 

Janus followed close behind—at a normal pace, thank you very much—and took the actual seat next to their kid, sipping at the cup of tea they had left on the counter before the two had returned home as they listened to Riley regaling their day at school.

———

Realistically, Remus probably should’ve seen it coming. He was a couple days past his previous record of days as Riley’s “favorite” and he knew he likely didn’t have much longer before Janus dethroned him again, but he certainly hadn’t expected the scene he walked in on that night. 

He had heard hushed laughter coming from one of their house’s bathrooms that evening, assuming at first that Janus was just handling Riley’s bath or something like that, but as he cleaned up the mess from their dinner and finished washing the rest of their dishes, he was surprised to find they were still in there. So obviously he had to investigate. 

He knocked on the door, rolling his eyes fondly as shushing and giggles came from within. 

“Everything good in there?” He teased, leaning against the door. “I gotta��� say, I’m a little hurt I didn’t get invited to whatever club this is that hangs out in the bathroom.”

More giggles followed by the oh-so familiar sound of Janus’ shushing. 

“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself what all the fuss is about,” he sing-songed, slowly creaking open the door before letting out a snort laugh at the scene before him. 

Janus was seated on the edge of the bathtub, wash cloth in hand, as Riley sat on the sink counter, covered on all limbs with temporary tattoos. At least the pieces of tape that Janus had cut into circles and colored black to look like ear gauges were admittedly cute. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” he smirked from against the doorframe. 

“JJ said you’re a wimp,” Riley proudly announced. “I was right.”

Janus stuck their tongue out and made a spitting noise and…yeah, that was their kid alright. Not that Remus would have it any other way. 

[desiredmalfoy]

True Love Is Eternal (D.M x Reader + F.W. x Reader)

Pairing: Draco x Reader, Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Note this is going to be changing from 1st person to 2nd and 3rd person.

Enjoy the final installment of the Dear Malfoy Series! Fred’s POV! Thank you for everyone who has shown love to my writing! You don’t know how much I appreciate it (it means a lot to me). 

Dear Malfoy [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]  (Masterlist)

The invitation to your wedding invitation came suddenly in the mail. It came addressed to the Weasley family, which I guess includes me. No, it did include me. You put that in the invitation. I didn’t even realize that I was holding in my breath as I opened up the intricate wedding invitation. The Malfoys are not sparing any expense on this. He would give you nothing but the best in life. He had been fine for the past couple of years, he had managed to get you out of his head for the longest time. He had even been in a serious relationship but that did work out. But it seems like the news of your wedding brought all these feelings back. Maybe all these old feelings resurfacing because of the news of your marriage but not because he actually still loved her. Or maybe in the back of his mind, he’d always wish you would have a moment of revelation where you realized who truly loved him.

                                 We are honored to invite you to

                                       the unity of marriage of

                                         Draco Lucius Malfoy 

                                                       &

                                        (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)

Your name is written in beautiful intricate gold cursive. Taunting me with every letter written. He ran his fingers over where your name was printed, reminiscing of the moments he had with you.

It was the middle of summer and the both of you were laying on the grass outside the burrow. You were looking up at the night sky admiring the millions of stars. Moments like these were the ones he hoped were forever.

“What do you want to do when we leave this place”,  Fred had asked her out of nowhere. 

“Get my own place. I love my parents but I want to have my own space.” 

“Oh! And get a kitten!” (Y/N) excitedly added. “I really want to get a kitten.”

“I’ll get you as many as you would like”, he said as he hugged her tightly.

“Is this your way of asking me to move in with you”, she teased him and his cheeks had become red from blushing. 

“Not yet but one day in the future hopefully.” He answered as he envisioned them with a few cats and maybe a baby or two. “And you know I’ll have my shop by then too.”

He wished he could go to the past. 

——-

Fred dwelled on the thought of going to your wedding. The invitation had been extended to the entire family, including him. After everything that had occurred, (y/n) had always been on good terms with the rest of the Weasley family. She had even eventually forgiven George for not telling her. George had explained to him that she forgave him to let go of the past and move on. 

Fred had thought he would keep on seeing you every summer as the previous ones before. You had always come to stay at least for a couple of days to see Ron and Ginny before you dated him. But the summer after his 7th year and (y/n)’s 5th it all changed. He anticipated your arrival but didn’t want to ask any of his siblings if they knew you’d be coming over. He stupidly thought that he would be able to at least fix your friendship that summer. It wasn’t until he had overheard a conversation between Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry that he knew you weren’t going to show up.

“I received an owl from her today.”, Ginny said excitedly as she sat down, a white envelope in her hand. 

“How is she? I miss her greatly this summer.” Hermione asked as she reached for that same envelope from Ginny. 

“She said she’s definitely enjoying Paris with Draco.”

“He took her to Paris”, Ron asked, shocked at the revelation. “The bloke has only been dating her for like eight months and he’s already taking her on expensive trips?’

“It’s Malfoy. Did you expect anything less”, Harry answered with a slight eye roll. “He’d buy her a castle if she would just let him.”

“I knew Malfoy always goes all out but I didn’t think he would take her on vacation so soon!”

“What do you expect?” Ginny laughed at Ron’s still confused expression. “He’s madly in love with her. He’s even nice to Harry of all people just for her.”

“That was the most surprising thing of all”, Hermione agreed with her with a giggle. “Who knew all it took to stop Malfoy from being such a prat was for (y/n) to date him.”

“I mean he even called Harry by his first name the last time we saw him instead of Potter”, Ron added to the conversation. 

“I still miss her this summer”, Ginny complained with a groan. “It’s not the same without her.”

That was the beginning of you spending every summer with Draco instead of at the Burrow with the Weasley’s like every other summer. 

———

He was walking along Hogsmeade after a long day of work. He was headed towards the Three Broomsticks to meet up with George who had taken a few days off from the shop that day. He hadn’t been feeling well the past few days and Fred had told him to stay home. He was finally feeling better and to celebrate, George had asked him to meet there for a couple of drinks. It was a pretty calm evening with a few people walking about the area. Fred mostly went unnoticed by others just trying to get home for the night. 

That’s when he saw you coming out of the dress store with your mother and Narcissa Malfoy by your side. (Y/N) had a huge grin on her face as she carried a large white box with a beautiful ribbon to tie it all up. It was your wedding dress. He just knew it was that. A large smile decorated your face as you seemed ecstatic about the contents of the box. He turned quickly into a different alleyway to avoid running into you. 

He was going to be needing something stronger than butterbeer tonight. 

——-

Fred and George were currently on their way to their parent’s home to visit them for the evening. Life had been hectic and he hadn’t had a chance to see them in a couple of days. Plus it was one night where he would not have to cook for himself and George. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal from your mum on days like these. 

They didn’t even bother knocking as they entered the home. 

“Mum your favorites have arrived”, Fred announced loudly teasingly as he saw Ron sitting on the couch. 

“I didn’t know Charlie and Bill were dropping by”, Ron said without lifting his gaze from the book on his lap.

“That hurts Ronnie”, George played around as he wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“Anyway, where is mum?”

“They’re upstairs trying on the bridesmaid dressed for the future Mrs. Malfoy’s wedding”, Ron said with a snicker. “Mione and Ginny I mean.”

“I still can’t believe that it’s coming up so soon”, Fred responded as he sat next down to his brother. 

“I am just excited about the food”, George said with a laugh. “I know it will be good.”

“Nice to know you care about me”, a teasing voice said from the stairs. Fred knew that voice and giggle anywhere. They all turned to where the voice was coming from.

“You know what I mean”, George said with a smile. He got up and greeted (y/n) with a hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He caught a glimpse of your engagement ring shining in light. Only the best for you.

“I’ve been busy”, she answered simply. “Weddings are a big thing to plan. Especially one that is only a about a two weeks away”

“How the joke shop?” (Y/N) questioned George. “Ginny has told me it’s been going amazingly for you two.”

“Right it has been”, George agreed. “Those Hogwarts kids are great customers. Right, Freddie?”

“Way to make us seem old Georgie”, Fred laughed as he looked directly at her. “It’s nice to see you (y/n).”

“Nice to see you too Fred”, she said, giving him a friendly smile. Not the same one she would give him years ago. 

“Are you staying for dinner darling”, mum said as she came down the stairs with Ginny and Hermione trailing just behind. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley”, (y/n) apologized. “I would love to but I had promised my parents I’d be eating with them tonight. Plus I still have to get home and see if Draco is back from work.”

You’d made a home with him already. One that he had promised you all those years ago.

“Don’t worry darling.” Mum said with a gentle smile. “You’re invited to dinner whenever you would like.”

“Thank you so much.” (Y/N) said as she hugged mum goodbye. She waved to everyone else and she was gone out the door. 

———

The day of the wedding finally came and he had decided to go. He wanted an opportunity to see you dressed in white. Fred walked over with his family to the Malfoy Manor. They’re escorted to the garden in the back to wait for the beginning of the ceremony. It was decorated with your favorite flowers, white roses. Flowers that symbolized innocence, youthfulness, eternal loyalty. 

The eternal loyalty you were about to pledge to Malfoy for the rest of your lives. 

Fred anxiously waited for the ceremony to start. He looked around the space and saw many of his former classmates interacting with each other. It wasn’t long before the ceremony started. 

Draco enters….

Your wedding party enters….

Everyone stands for your entrance….

The wedding march starts….

You walk down the aisle hand in hand with your father. You looked stunning in your wedding dress. Darling how I wish I was the one watching you walk towards me. You don’t spare a glance to where I’m standing. I’m probably the farthest thing from your mind. And I’m glad you don’t because I don’t think my heart would take it. He watches on a Malfoy cries at the sight of you walking towards him. Fred knew if he was in his place he’d probably do the same.

Because even though all I want to do is run up to that alter and tell you exactly how I feel, I simply won’t. I've seen how happy you are with him, and I can't ever do that to you. Even though I sit here to watch you wed another man and break my heart in the process. 

Why am I even here? Why did I even come? 

He watches as you pledge your love for Draco. Vowing to stay with him every moment of your lives together. He watched as you said “I do” through your tears. 

You make such a lovely bride. Maybe in another lifetime or reality, you’re mine. But in this one darling, we just weren’t meant to be. 

Maybe in another lifetime, I’ll be able to hold you close and never let go. In this one, I foolishly took you for granted and let you slip from my arms into the firm grasp of another man. 

I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t resist seeing you in white. 

Because sometimes two souls are only meant to just be in each other’s life for a while; awaiting the lifetime where they’ll meet again but this time forever. 

Alternative Ending:

Fred stood alone in his shop tonight. Wanting to throw himself into work to ignore the pain in his chest. He took another swing of the bottle of fire whisky in an attempt to drown out all the intrusive thoughts running through his mind. He spent the evening thinking about how he wished it was him marrying you, waiting at the end of the aisle. You’d be getting married next week and he couldn’t do anything about it. He knew he messed up all those years ago, and he’d do anything to turn back time. 

He heard the door chime as someone opened the door. He must have forgotten to lock up in his current state. 

“We’re closed”, he yelled out towards the door. He didn’t bother to lift his head to talk to them. Not wanting to be seen in this state. 

“Freddie?”

This caused an instant reaction from him. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“(Y/N/N)”, he whispered. He was afraid you’d disappear at any moment. A hallucination.

“I missed you. I need you.”

“I missed you too.”

I know it’s not the best alternative ending but I kind of left it open for the reader to decide. It is a little something for those who would choose Fred instead. Do they realize they actually loved Fred after all this time? Is Fred just losing it and imagining this? It’s up to you to decide!

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Taglist: @keepsmilingandstayhappy @sarcasticallywitty15 @adrianpuceyishot @dracoismybabey @little-me204 @loveforreading @stephaniewinchester-weasley @cronen 

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

[starkerotic]

i melt in your mouth, girl, not in your hands. [part 1]

[based on the stress-baking prompt from this au post.]

If anyone had asked Bucky only three years before, he never would have thought that he would eventually end up here, back in the same apartment complex from his youth - updated and much more expensive than the fifty dollars or so he remembers Steve’s mother fretting over so many times before she died, his own mother patting Sarah’s frail hands as she reassured her that everything would work out in the end, but very much the same.

(It’s… comforting, in a way he’s not felt since he went off to The War, pride in his heart and fear buried deep below, his mother’s tears wet on his cheek and the warmth of Steve’s farewell - or, at least, see you soon, as it turned out - hug still surrounding him, his heart beating strong, as quick as a hummingbird’s wings, as he boarded the bus and sat with the other men ready to lay their lives on the line for their country and their god and their loved ones.)

“Buck! Open up, I’ve got pizza!”

New floors, news appliances, new owners… same old Steve. (Well, still a punk that picks fights too big for him, anyway.)

“If you knock down my door again, you’re explaining to Stark why he’s paying for the same damage a third time.” He doesn’t have to raise his voice much louder than his normal speaking volume. Steve’s enhanced hearing is just as good as his own - even better, perhaps; he is, after the original super soldier, while Bucky’s serum was hardly more than a diluted mimicry with a side of mind control.

Steve’s big, dumb grin greets him once the door opens, as bright and carefree and happy as Bucky remembers from before The Fall and before The War and after Bucky could hear his trigger words (longing, rusted, seventeen…) and keep his mind his own. (Once upon a time, that stupid grin would have fluttered his heart, sent his pulse a little higher, set his smile a little wider, but too many things have changed between them for Bucky to feel that same connection now.)

“I don’t think he’d mind, because it means I’m not busy-” Steve frowns, carefully setting all four pizza boxes down on Bucky’s small kitchen island. “-‘killing his vibe’.”

The pleasant aroma of chocolate chip cookies (it’s been faint all evening, but with the door open, it hits him full-force) drifts from the apartment across the hall, just like it used to when he and Steve were boys and one of their mothers (and, in one disastrous incident, Bucky’s sister) had enough spare ingredients and time to bake a baker’s dozen or two. It makes Bucky long (longing, rusted, seventeen…) for those days so far gone, when things were bad but never dismal and his mother’s soft humming and his sister’s giddy laughter rang through the halls, sweet and familiar and-

The door snaps shut, Bucky’s vibranium fingers curling over the wooden frame. It does nothing to remove the scent of the other tenant’s baking, but he feels better with the flimsy barrier.

“Buck?”

Sleek metal shines in the light as Bucky releases the frame and flexes his fist for a moment, careful to take the deep breaths his court-appointed therapist (and, god, what a joke that is, expecting him to open up to a woman with no idea of where he comes from, of what used to make him Bucky that the serum and HYDRA stole away from him) recommended in their first session. It never helps, not really (he has too much anger built up, he surmises, ready to boil and burn and destroy in all the same ways he was once ordered to by both his own government and the enemy), but he’s trying.

“Sorry,” rasps Bucky. He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat, but offers no excuse or explanation for his behavior. (He doesn’t owe anyone anything - not even Steve.)

The grin isn’t quite as wide anymore, but the blond doesn’t look like he’s readying himself to attack, so Bucky moves nearer, flesh hand reaching for the nearest box: a simple cheese with extra sauce. “Thanks,” Bucky mutters and downs half a slice in one bite, the cheese almost too hot, the sauce with the exact right consistency and flavor. The simple pie is Bucky’s (unofficial) favorite, a reminder that not everything has changed.

“Any time.” Steve stares at him for a few moments longer - long enough that Bucky’s back stiffens - but he only offers Bucky a slice of a second pizza (red peppers and ricotta and Italian sausage) before he holds up the stack of boxes he’s supporting with his left hand. “I’ve got Sorry! and Scrabble and,” he sighs, put-upon in a way only Steve Rogers can be, “Clue - the Avengers version.”

Bucky snorts, and his muddled mind clears of familiar feminine laughter and warm chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s always the Widow.”

*

(Natasha, in fact, is the culprit two times out of three. Bucky has more fun in the two hours they play, bullshitting his questions and pretending to think much too long on Steve’s when he only has one of the answers to give up, than he’s had since he first woke from his programming.)

*

Steve has been gone for at least fifteen minutes when there’s a knock at his door.

“I told you the last slice was mine when you left, punk, so don’t-”

He’s let the familiar surroundings lull him into what bit of security he can still feel because, rather than Steve on his doorstep, it’s… Well, he isn’t positive who it is, but judging by the open door across from him and the overwhelming scent of home and freshly-baked cookies, Bucky makes an assumption. “You must be the baker.” His words are gruff, but he tries to keep his tone level and as kind as he can make it without his usual scowl creeping over his face.

Perfectly rosy cheeks look to darken even further as his neighbor looks up from Bucky’s chest, surprise and awe appearing and disappearing, quick as a flash across his face. Brown eyes (they remind Bucky of autumn, of warm days and cool nights and leaves crunching along a woodland trail) widen for only a moment on the black-and-gold vibranium weapon that serves as his arm.

Bucky braces himself for a flurry of questions about the arm, the Avengers, Captain America-

“I’m sorry. Do the smells bother you?” Perfectly straight teeth, pearly white except for the slightest smudge of chocolate on the left canine, show in a nervous smile. He hides his eyes, ducking his head just enough to avoid Bucky’s, as he rambles, “I’m really sorry about that; it’s just an easy way for me to destress, I guess - ha - and I didn’t think it would be an issue with anyone because I usually bake a ton and give them to everyone in the building and-”

“It’s not a problem,” Bucky interrupts, and the other man smiles and- Wow. Bucky can’t remember ever seeing another person so delighted and… cute.

“You’re sure?” Cute Neighbor asks. His arms shift, muscles flexing just the tiniest bit as he tightens his grip around a Tupperware container in his hands.

Bucky takes a moment (two, three, four…) to soften his features, to relax his tense shoulders and look less likely to snap someone’s neck. “Positive,” he reassures and, just to see those cheeks pinken up a second time, he winks. “Reminds me of home.”

The blush comes along with another smile, bright and kind and much less big and dumb than the one Steve had greeted him with earlier, though a tinge of sadness dulls it. “Same,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before he startles and shoves the Tupperware out in front of him in an offering to Bucky - homemade cookies for the feared Winter Soldier. “Everyone else has already gotten theirs,” he tells Bucky. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go without.”

And that’s just-

Bucky’s chest expands on a breath, holds… and releases. “Thanks, doll.” The endearment slips out like it’s nothing, as easy as it always used to back in the forties.

His neighbor only laughs, a little breathless, and says, “I’m Peter. Peter Parker,” before going on his way, blessing Bucky with one last smile before he shuts the door to his apartment.

Peter Parker.

The cookies are a small taste of whatever heaven may exist after this life, the chocolate chips melting as soon as the cookie touches his tongue, and Bucky can’t help but to hope that Peter finds himself stressed again sooner rather than later.

[please-buckme]

Are you open to writing a threesome for Hayden and Ewan and the reader? The reader meets Hayden and Ewan at a hotel bar. They are in town for a SW con and are looking to “unwind” 😜

You, Me and Ewan Makes Three. Hayden Christensen x Ewan McGregor x reader

Warnings⚠️: SMUT. Threesome, dick sucking, puss eating, ball fondling, ✨smut✨

4361 words

Authors note: I’m sorry.

After a long day of walking around and seeing thousands of people dressed up as their favorite Star Wars characters, you finally pulled yourself away to go back to your hotel. The Star Wars Convention was like a home away from home to you and you can’t believe it’s over. You’ve been going to this convention every year for the past 4 years. You’d met quite a few stars along the way but the only ones you care to meet are; Obi-Wan and Anakin. You would’ve met them by now but everytime you go to buy tickets they are the ones that are always sold out.

For this trip it was the same thing, so you came up with a plan. Through someone on one of your social media pages you found out that Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen would be staying at the same hotel. The hotel was of course beautiful and very expensive. It didn’t matter though. You’d waited basically your whole life to meet them and you seized this opportunity. You didn’t want to be intrusive and look up their room numbers or anything so you had to think of a way for them to be in the same place as you and it not be weird, the bar. The hotel had a beautiful bar connected to the lobby and it was for hotel guests only. This means it would be more private for them so why wouldn’t they eventually come down? You’d gotten yourself all dolled up every night for them to never show up, unfortunately. But tonight was the last night of your stay and you were certain that tonight was the night.

Once you got back to your hotel room you rushed to the shower to wash off the day. You did everything routinely as you’d done this for 3 days now. The only thing you did differently every time was your hair and outfit. Tonight you were going all out. After you showered you blow dried your hair, then curled it. You penned one side of it back with a barrette that had burgundy jewels on it. To match the barrette you wear a skin tight burgundy, velvet dress. Around your neck was a black, velvet choker to match with your matte balck Stilettos. For your makeup you put on very little. You did some mascara followed by a little bit of eyeliner and dark lipstick to finish it off.

When you finished getting ready you headed down to the bar, elegantly. Some employees started to recognize you, saying hello and asking how your day had been. Even when you got to the bar the bartender had your drink ready before you even sat down. “You look lovely tonight, Miss.” The bartender complimented. You give him a weak smile in response. You were truly very shy, if you weren’t so determined to meet them you’d be up in your hotel room eating pizza while binge watching The Office for the millionth time. Just for them though you put on a tight dress instead of loose pants.

You’d been down at the bar for almost an hour and half, only having two drinks. You didn’t want to be drunk the first time you met them or else you’d truly be a huge, sloppy mess.

The time on your phone said 12:00am. Everyone who’d been there when you showed up had left, leaving you and a few other people including the bartender. He asked if you’d like another drink and you decline his offer but tell him thank you anyway. You sat there slouched over the bar, one hand stirring your drink with a tini cocktail straw and the other held up your head. You were disappointed, not necessary at them, but in yourself. Had you really wasted hours of your night sitting here alone at a bar full of strangers? It had gotten to the point where you almost left until, “Is this seat taken?” It was Ewan.

“Uh,uh no. Please sit.” You say straightening your posture from the very sloppy slutch, to now a more confident, upright position, you hoped. You did your best not to fiddle with anything. To Ewan you were just another person and that’s how you wanted to treat him. You sit staring straight ahead wishing you’d said yes to that drink now.

“Are you waiting for someone?” He asked politely. Not trusting your voice at the moment you just shook your head no in response. You did look at him now, however, you were surprised by his ensemble. Ewan wore a white, skinny suit with a beautifully, patterned undershirt. He must have been waiting for someone you thought. You took this time to ask a very delayed question.

“Are you waiting for someone?” He laughed softly, you’re guessing at your clear shyness.

“Yes, just a buddy of mine. If i’m bothering you I can-” You cut him off.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so impolite.” you out your head down looking at your lap. You definitely screwed this up, you thought. How is it that you waited for this man for three nights now and never thought of what to say? You see him, out of the corner of your eye, duck his head down to look at you.

“You haven’t been impolite at all, Darling.” You lift your head up a bit to look at him. He had a friendly kind of smirk spread across his face. “Shall I buy you a drink?” He asked. You of course said yes, now in dire need of alcohol. He waves the bartender over and orders your drinks. You make small talk before your drinks come out, mostly him talking though. He’d ask you simple questions like; are you from, were you a guest at the hotel, and what brought you to town. You didn’t lie to him on the last question. You simply just told him that you came in for the convention. You did not tell him it was to finally have a chance to meet him, that wasn’t information you thought he needed.

A few minutes had gone by. You’d become a little more comfortable talking to him, he just had that way about him. You were so focused on him though that you hadn’t realized someone had sat down on the other side of you. “Ah, Hayden, meet my new friend.” Ewan gestured behind you. You froze briefly but then turned around as calm as possible, trying to blow your cover.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said in almost a whisper. Being sandwiched between Obi-Wan and Anakin is more than you ever could have asked for. After greeting Hayden you stared straight again not knowing what to do with yourself. They started talking over you to each other. You just waited till one of them said something before looking at either one of them.

“So, what brought you to the convention?” Hayden asked.

“What?” You asked him just snapping out of your staring-intently-at-a-wall trance.

“Ewan was just telling me you were in town for the convention. What brought you here?” He reiterated. He’d ordered a drink at some point. You watched as he took a sip. Hayden was beautiful. His outfit wasn’t as fancy as Ewan but it was him. Hayden decided to wear a nice grey fitted suit, one you’d seen before. Recognizing the outfit made you smile, relaxing your nerves a little.

“It’s just something I do every year.” You’re still not lying.

“You a fan?” Hayden asked bluntly.

“Well, yeah. Why would I go if I weren’t?” You asked sarcastically. He hummed at your response.

“You’re very calm for a fan or calmer than most.” If only he knew just how much you were losing your shit on the inside. You were much more relaxed with both of them now. You listened as they talked and told jokes to one another. Ewan bought you many more drinks than you’d anticipated on drinking, making you nice and drunk. That helped you join in on conservations with them, letting them really get to know you. They really seemed like they were enjoying your company.

“So what brought you guys down to the bar tonight?” You asked in an involuntary, drunken laugh. All of a sudden that went silent. They looked at each other almost anxiously. “What?” You asked again.

“There’s just a tradition we uphold every year at this event.” Ewan started to explain. He leaned down closer to you, moving the hair from off your shoulder and tucking it behind your ear. You could feel his breathe on your neck as he whispered, “We like to find a beautiful woman like yourself, take her to our room and fuck her till morning. Would you be interested in getting fucked, Darling.” With that he takes your earlobe between his teeth. You gasp at the sensation. Hayden just sits watching you, palming himself.

“O-okay. Both of you together, though?” Hayden nodes yes. “Whose room?” Ewan removes himself from your earlobe and grabs your hand leading you out of the bar with Hayden right behind you.

Once you got to the elevators you could feel Hayden towering over you as he unexpectedly grabbed your ass. You moan at his touch turning around to look into his lust filled eyes. When the elevator doors opened Ewan pulled you in. Hayden took no time in slamming you up against the back wall, crashing your lips together. The kiss was rough, immediately making your lips swell. He pulled away a moment sticking his middle finger down your throat before pulling it out and replacing his lips to yours. He didn’t leave you wondering for a second when you felt his finger go under your dress. He groaned when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear. He toyed with your clit making you moan into his mouth uncontrollably. They didn’t seem to care how loud you’d get which you loved, it made the night's events even more intriguing.

The elevator doors opened once you reached the 24th floor. You felt Ewan pull you from Hayden’s grasp on you. By Hayden’s reaction you could tell that pissed him off. You smirked at him in response, egging him on. He practically ran after you and Ewan. You reached your other hand out for him and he took it. You could still feel your slick still on your fingers, making you bite your lip. The thought of you on Hayden Christensen’s fingers had always been a fantasy of yours. Knowing your fantasies were becoming reality overwhelmed your senses with excitement. Ewan let go of your hand to get the key out to open his hotel room door. Hayden ground his hard member into your backside as you waited to go in. You took this moment to thank yourself for booking this hotel and coming up with such a dumb idea that somehoe worked.

When Ewan finally got the door open they let you walk in yourself. Sauntering through the door you took your time making your way to the bed. When you did get to the bed you bent down to take your heels off when Ewan stopped you, “Leave those on, yes?” You smirked at him and nodded in agreement. “I can help you out of this though.” He says gesturing to your dress. You stand up and turn around for him to unzip it for you. He takes the zipper down slowly, chancing with his other hand that trailed down the newly exposed skin.

Once the dress was off, you sat back down on the bed. You were now face-to-face with Ewans belt. Hayden was sat across from you in a chair waiting for his turn with you. You grabbed at Ewan’s belt, undoing it slowly. With your other hand you palmed at the bulge that was outlined by his tight, white pants. He groaned at the feel of your palm pressing harder into his member, so you did it again. Ewan was holding back the urge to shove you down and take you right then and you could tell, so you undid his zipper a little faster than you had with the belt.

You watched as Ewan through his shoes off and pulled his legs completely out of his pants. He still had on his boxer which frustrated you. When he made his way back to face you you wasted no time in freeing him. His member sprung out, hitting you in the face, this made you giggle for a moment. Immediately you took Ewan into your mouth, massaging the veins of his cock with your tongue. “That’s it, Darling. Nice and steady.” You bobbed your at a steady pace, savoring every inch of him in your mouth, while your hands started to undo his beautifully designed under shirt. When his shirt came off he was now as bare as you, making you feel more at ease.

You’d been going your steady pace on Ewan until he decided to fuck your mouth rigorously. You gagged as tears began to form at your eyelash. He took you all the way down his shaft holding you there. He groaned thunderously at the feeling of your throat closing in around him. When he released you, he pulled all the way out. You gasped for air as tears and saliva soaked your face. You watched him massage himself as Hayden, now only in his boxers, came up to you. Hayden liked being more personal with you. He took his time kissing at your neck, softly at that. He then looked over your face planting gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead before crashing his lips to yours. It was a welcomed needy kiss, like he’d been waiting all day to kiss you. You bright one of your hands up to his hair, fisting at it softly. He moaned into your mouth as you pulled at his hair, making you smirk against his lips.

You could feel Hayden’s hands exploring your body, mostly your thighs. He detached from your lips and started his trail of love bites down your body. You gasped at every sensation his bites sent through your body. He definitely knew what he was doing to you as you felt him grin against your skin. He traveled all the way down between your legs biting harder as he got closer to your cunt. “Hayden!” You screamed but you couldn’t figure out if it were from pleasure or pain or both. He smiled up at you, smoothing his thumb over the lost spot he had bitten. He placed an apologetic kiss just beneath your belly button as he ascended down once again.

You could feel breath as he reached your folds. You grabbed at your inner thighs, pushing them down slowly while still kissing at the skin just above your clit. You were breathing heavily with anticipation. “Are you ready?” He asked in a low rasp. You looked down between your legs to see he positioned right over your warmth. You can’t even think of how many times you’d imagined Hayden between your legs, so you looked at him for a second or two, bringing your hand down to play with his hair before saying yes and lowering him down to you. He starts off by placing a kiss to your clit. You didn’t even have time to react when he started his tongues assault on your pussy. He groaned against you as he played with your clit, licking and sucking while adding his middle and ring fingers to your entrance. You still had your hand in his hair tugging him deeper into you. He pumped his fingers rapidly into you making you squirm beneath him.

“Oh god, Hayden. You’re gonna make me cum.” After saying that Hayden switched his fingers to your clit and his tongue to your entrance. You were definitely screaming as he brought you closer to your climax.

All of a sudden, though, he was off you completely. You look down to see that had pushed him out of the way. “Let me show you how a Master does it.” He said to Hayden, making you giggle. Ewan spread your legs to look at your now dripping pussy. “Hello there.” He says directly to your pussy, leaning himself down into it. He takes you as Hayden had, soft, gentle kiss before the spine tingling sensation of your clit being totally worked work his tongue and lips. They felt almost the same besides Ewans facial hair adding that little extra amount of pleasure. Every time you moaned Ewans name he increased the pace of his tongue. You came very quickly, already being close with Hayden had made your orgasm ten minutes more intense. You tried to pull Ewan off as your orgasm made your sensitive clit even more sensitive. Your legs were shaking and your body was jolting as you begged Ewan to stop, he wouldn’t though. Being in such a sensitive state made you cum on his tongue again. You couldn’t believe how amazing this orgasm had felt. You blacked out momentarily as your body went limp around his face.

When you finally came down from your high, you looked between your legs to see Ewan massaging your thighs gently. “So sorry, my dear. I guess I couldn’t help myself. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” He asked. You don’t know if you were still a little delirious or just felt like having fun when you made your request. When you did though Ewan stopped rubbing your legs and glanced at you in shock. You look over to Hayden with a grin on your face as he also seemed to be in a bit of shock. “As you wish.” Ewan said.

You say up from your lying position and say crisscross. Hayden released his thick member from the boxer he’d been wearing, making you almost drool at the sight. Ewan and Hayden then joined you on the bed asking again if this was what you wanted. You nodded, still grinning. Ewan propped himself on his knees to be level with Hayden. He put both hands on Hayden’s shoulders before leaning in to kiss him. Your request had simply been to watch them with each other. The second their lips met you could feel a throb between your legs. They deepened the kiss as Hayden laid back. You hear Hayden moan as Ewan plays with his balls, gently. They continue on like this for several minutes before you can’t stand it anymore.

You tap on Ewan’s shoulder. He looks up at you from Hayden and you plead with your face to join them, they accept. Ewan lifts himself up as you snake in between them, now facing Hayden. “Hi.” You say giggling.

“Hello.” He responds before you lower your face down to kiss him. You taste so much in this kiss; alcohol, your juice and, you’re guessing, the taste of Ewan’s lips along with Hayden’s. You smile into the kiss while playing with his hair again. You feel him smile back at you and bring his hand down to your clit. “Are you ready?” He asked again. You weren’t sure what for this time but you said yes anyway. You still felt Ewan above you but now you felt his member begging for entry at your cunt. You look up at him with a nod before he slides into painfully slow. You inhale sharply as he fills you up. Hayden, still under you, plays with your hair while soothing you. “Does it hurt?” Hayden asks. You nod yes. “Wait till I fuck you then.” You moan at both the pleasurable pain in your core and the filthy things Hayden whispers in your ear. “Are you going to be a good girl and cum all over his cock?” You answer him incoherently as Ewan slams into you vigorously. “And when he’s done I’m going to wreck you myself, would you like that?” He hums.

“Yes, oh god yes. I-I want to come all over your cock.” You hear you groan above you as he pulls your hair making you join him in an upright position. The new angle makes you moan out almost into a scream. Hayden repositions himself under you as he aliens his cock perfectly were your face would come down to meet him.

Ewan grunts in your, “Does my cockiness feel good, love?” You moan in response. He slams into you harder. “Answer me, love.” He demands.

“Yes so good, so fucking good, Ewan.”

“Good, now be a good girl and suck his cock.” Ewan says shoving you back down onto Hayden’s member this time. Having already had Ewan in your mouth, your throat was nice and ready to slide Hayden in the way down gagging around him slightly. Hayden bucked his hips at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. He could tell this didn’t bother you so he took your hair into his fist as he fucked your mouth. No other men would ever make you this full and this happy again in your life. You heard you shout from above ‘I HAVE THE HIGHER GROUND’ which actually made you choke around Hayden. Hayden lifted you up from him thinking he’d hurt you but you were a gasping, laughing mess. You loved them. Before now you didn’t think you could love them anymore but every second you’d spent with them just increased your love for them.

Ewan had tired out behind you after a while and switched with Hayden, this time though you weren’t lying down. Hayden propped you up on your hands and knees. He began again, as he did on your front, by kissing down your spine, while fondling your breasts. “Can I keep you?” You whispered up at him. He smiled against your skin, making you giggle.

You became impatient waiting for him to fill you up, so you reached for his cock and massaged the tip ever so slightly as he hummed against you. Taking the hint he backed away from you just enough to position himself at your entrance. “This is where the fun begins.” He whispered in your ear, a hint of laughter in his voice. You nod again laughing briefly as he slowly takes you with his cock. He stretched you out like no one ever had. Ewan was big, of course, but Hayden’s was.. different. Hayden’s fit you like a tight glove he was almost too big for. He couldn’t fill you up at first, because you begged him not to. He got just passed the tip before pulling back out. “It’s okay. Take your time.” He told you as he pushed back in. This time felt a little better as he brought himself a little deeper inside you. You both groaned in unison once he’d filled you completely.

Your legs were shaking as he held you up. You’d honestly never felt so weak before now, but you didn’t care. Hayden felt so good gliding in and out of you slowly, letting you adjust to his size, still. You watched Ewan saunter up to you while pumping himself. You lick your lips as he brings his cock right up to your face. You lick the underneath of his cock, lacking up your own juice from him. You kiss the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. He groaned at the contact. You bobbed you’re head in sync with Hayden’s thrusts making Ewan twitch in your mouth. “Cum in my mouth please.” You beg him. He groans again as you holo out your cheeks around him. He takes your head inbetween his hands and fucks your mouth in sloppy thrusts. You feel him twitch just before releasing his seed into your mouth. You hum around him as he comes down from his high. He pets your head before releasing himself from your mouth with a pop.

Hayden lifts you up by your hair as Ewan had. You cry out his name, feeling him slide even deeper into. “Are you gonna cum around my cock?” He asked now bring a hand down to toy with your clit.

“Yes, oh fuck. Yes I’m gonna cum.” He increased his rhythm on your clit as he smashed into your g spot like it was there just for him. He thrust into you a couple more times before sending you over the edge. As your pussy tightened around him with your climax, he followed in his shortly after yours. You could feel him release into, both of your excitement mixing together inside you.

Hayden kisses at the top of your spine before exiting you. Your whole body collapsed when he went you go. All three of you sat for a moment, breathing heavily on top of each other’s sweaty bodies. You broke the silence by saying, “Um, I don’t think I can move.” The room filled with their laughter.

“Then I guess we did our jobs right, huh lad?” Ewan said, hitting Hayden on the shoulder. Hayden laughed before getting up. You watched as he dressed himself before picking up your dress and walking over to you.

He slipped the dress out to your hips. “Can you lift your hips for me.” He asked, trying to pull your dress up your body. You managed to do so. He flipped you over on your side to zip up the back.

Ewan leaned over to look at you, “That was great fun, love. Till next year!” He said planting a kiss to your cheek. You blush before you feel Hayden’s arms pick you up from the bed to carry you out of the room. You giggle as your legs still shook in Hayden’s arms. He smiled back down at you, also planting a kiss to your cheek.

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” He asked. Exiting Ewan’s room.

“Not till 3. Why?” You asked out of curiosity.

“I’m not quite done with you.” Hayden smirks as he carries you back to his room.

xMasterlist.x

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Laughter is my Love Language

Summary:  Logan doesn't laugh much when Virgil first meets him. Eventually Virgil learns when Logan is truly happy is when he opens up.

Warnings: food mention, some self deprecating humor. If there are more please let me know!

Ships: Logan x Virgil, Analogical

WC: 1, 664

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @ace-in-a-shopping-cart (you had asked to be tagged in this a while ago, I hope it’s still okay)

Logan doesn’t laugh much when they first meet, which is somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. The problem was that Virgil was funny in the stupid way- which he blamed entirely on his dad’s humor that fell over to the punnier side. Crack a pun, reference a meme or as a last ditch effort self deprecating humor was usually relatable enough. Logan fell for none of those and more or less was just left confused by them- or he took the self depreciation too seriously and Virgil ended up with a heartfelt lecture on how important he was. Which, as sweet as it was, wasn’t the point of poking fun at something at his own expense.

--

“Boy Logan that sandwich is jam packed!” said Virgil sometime during their freshman year of high school.

Logan had looked at his sandwich in confusion. “There’s peanut butter there too- but yes it’s Crofters.”

Virgil fought to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah I know, it was a joke.”

“But it is packed with- oh that was a pun. Clever.” 

--

“Here comes dat boi!” Virgil cringed at his own voice as the meme reference fell out of his mouth. He hadn’t seen Logan smile once that day and all attempts at conversation had fallen flat so...memes. Why not? Logan was on his laptop often enough he had probably seen what he was referencing at some point. Plus Logan was gliding very confidently on his skateboard and Virgil was suddenly feeling very tense and wanted to break it. Logan, unhelpful as he was, merely stopped and kicked the board up to tuck underneath his arm.

“‘Dat’?” He questioned.

“I-it’s...a meme. I was- referencing a meme.”

“Ah.”

“...yeah.”

Nailed it.

--

“That’s just me being dumb though- you know how it is.” Virgil let out a defeated huff of laughter and settled his chin on his arms. It was their senior year and he was talking to Logan about his current grades. Everything else was straight A’s other than gym. He didn’t like changing in front of others and the bathrooms were blocked off for whatever reason so he just didn’t do it. He took the fail but still needed the credit or he’d have problems getting his diploma, which was completely stupid and unfair but he knew it was his own stubborn fault and-

“I don’t know.” Logan hadn’t laughed at the “joke”, of course he hadn’t. Virgil sighed, opening his mouth to say something else completely stupid and worthless but Logan beat him to it.

“You aren’t stupid. Lack of participation doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it means there’s some other problem that needs addressing if you’re willing to take a failing grade instead of confronting it.” Logan turned to him with a serious look. Always so serious. “So, if I may ask, where’s the problem?”

Virgil blinked. “It’s stupid.”

“Virgil.”

“I just...don’t like…” Virgil turned into his elbow, cheeks reddening at how dumb the problem really was.

“I didn’t hear you. Can you please speak up? Or write it down if that’s easier.”

Snorting he decided to take him up on that, tearing a scrap of paper off his notebook and writing it down.

There was a pause and then: “Is this all? If you take the make-up class there won’t be nearly as many people and if you get there early you can be changed before anyone sees you.”

Peaking around, Logan’s face was so genuine, like he actually wanted to help. Virgil almost didn’t have the heart to say why that was also a problem but he needed him to understand. “I won’t know anyone in the make-up class.”

Logan screwed his mouth to one side trying to figure out why that would be something Virgil would worry about. His face brightened somewhat as he looked back to Virgil. “If it would ease your anxiety I could take the class with you. While I may not have to make up for the credit, it is open to sign up for extra if anyone so chooses.”

Virgil bit his lip. That would- actually really help, but he couldn’t let Logan do that could he? “You don’t have to.”

“I am aware. But going would be a nice routine and I would be very happy to do it if it meant you would be more comfortable.”

“You’re serious? You would really do that?”

“I’m always serious, Virgil. Of course I will.”

Maybe sometimes Logan not getting the joke was a good thing.

--

“L, it’s three in the morning. Go to bed.” They were in college sharing a dorm, and though Virgil could fall asleep with the lights fully on so Logan’s lamp wasn’t keeping him awake, it was the fact the other man was still awake that was bothering him.

Logan let out a short, humorless laugh and waved hi hand. “I’m almost done.”

Virgil hated when he laughed like that. No happiness behind it, only stress and exhaustion and irritation. Sighing Virgil reached over and plucked the pencil from his hand, shooting him a warning look when it seemed like he was about to protest. He closed the book and stacked it neatly with the couple notebooks he had and placed the pencil and calculator on top. Turning to his dorm mate he pointed to the dresser in the corner. “Pjs. Now.”

Slightly concerned when Logan only stood up to do as he was told instead of arguing he shrugged it off and sat back down on the bed. Logan came over a moment later, plain black tee drooping over one shoulder and sleep shorts slightly rumpled. They really needed to do laundry. Before he could say as much, Virgil was suddenly on his back, Logan’s head on his chest with his legs sticking straight over the side. Laughing softly he ran his fingers through the others light red hair, combing out the tangles gently while Logan relaxed into him.

“Logan buddy, I love you so much but if we fall asleep like this we’ll never get up again.” The other grumbled but took a breath and rolled off his chest, swinging his legs over to turn on his side and nearly kicking Virgil in the head in the process. Smirking, Virgil crawled up behind him and flopped with his arm slung over his side. He laughed again when he realized he was already asleep, arms askew and already drooling on the pillow. Snuggling into his back and hugging him tight he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep himself.

--

Logan sat at the table with a book flat on the surface, notebook close by as he made careful notes for the next curriculum. His brow was pinched in thought and his third mug of coffee was cooling beside him, untouched for nearly an hour as he fixated on his work.

Virgil looked back out the window as he finished drying a glass. Gray clouds were rolling in and it was already starting to drizzle. Good,  they needed a good rain for the start of summer. Tuning in once again to the furious scratching of a pencil behind him he set the glass down and whirled around, racing over and catching Logan’s hands in his own to tug him up and towards the door. 

“Virgil what are we- it’s raining! Virgil!” Virgil stopped for a moment to look and see if Logan was actually distressed but upon seeing more fond annoyance than anything else he grinned and stepped out into the downpour. He took away one of his hands and led Logan in a spin down the porch, feet slipping slightly in the wet grass as he maneuvered them around. Logan was smiling now, stress lines gone from his face as wet hair flopped into his eyes and obscured his vision. Virgil’s own hair was slicked flat to his forehead, emo fringe he would never cut hanging down to his lips before he shook his head hard to dispel the water. Logan yelped and flinched away before laughing low at himself, grin turning mischievous as he reached up above virgil’s head to take a hold of a tree branch. Yelling as what felt like gallons of water soaked him he stood there thoroughly soaked and shivering slightly before letting out a howl of laughter, Logan following right after. He was sure the neighbors could hear them but he didn’t care. Logan was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides, shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

This was what Virgil loved most. Logan didn’t always laugh easily, not understanding the joke or understanding what was meant to be a joke but making sure the person was okay first. When he did laugh, it was one shared with others over whatever dumb, stress free thing they were doing. It was unplanned and in the moment, something Logan and Virgil were usually both averse to. But here in the rain, or getting icing everywhere on their wedding day, or the shared laughed when they woke up together after yelling at each other the night before to go to sleep it rang out; it was clear and joyful and carefree- a language all on it’s own that neither of them needed to “get” in order to join in .

When they first met Logan didn’t laugh a lot, which was somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. But when he opened up he began laughing all the time, each one precious and kept close to the chest. Virgil collected them, hoarded them even, storing them like coins in a jar in exchange for the happiness he felt each time he was the one to cause such a beautiful sound. And as they giggled still through slight coughs under a blanket that night, he couldn’t be more happy he could speak this language with Logan.

This work is also available on AO3!

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