#I mean I could just blurt out all I’m leaning towards but that’ll be a very big spoiler if I ever wrote it

[actors-manor]

What would the magical girl au powers be? :0

I’m not sure yet! Depends how I do it— if I make it Sailor Moon adjacent or not! There’s so many ways, with how it can be planet based, elemental, just random things— etc. And if it’s sharing a Spirit, or a full on reincarnation type thing. Either way, I think It’d be interesting if Actor was some sort of Light… it’s always ironic how the ‘dark’ characters get corrupted by the dark. Why can’t the opposite happen? Also if I want the egos in order or in random teams of my choosing of who’s what/where.

I think it’d be interesting too if whatever Damien and Celine were, put together, is an antithesis to Actor’s power/abilities. -Mun

[gekkosgirl]

a kiss | gekko.

summary: gekko, after freaking out about the intial text about it, meets up with you at the mall to help out with decorating your room

pairing: gekko (mateo) x gn!reader

cw: SFW! mild language, pda (kinda awk), teasing(?)

notes: wrote this one pretty quickly, but still love it nonetheless. just so you can get inside my mind, i was listening to >one - greater than one by valorant and ericdoa (literally gekko's song)

word count: 1.8k

Gekko nearly tripped over his skateboard when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out with a quick swipe and saw your name light up the screen. The moment he read your text—"Hey Mateo, wanna hit the mall with me? Thinking of sprucing up my room a bit. Could use your help!"—his heart skipped a beat.

A grin spread across his face so fast that it made him look ridiculous, but he didn’t care. “No way,” he muttered to himself, rereading the text just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Without thinking, he sprinted to Reyna, who was chilling on the couch in the living room, scrolling through her phone. “Yo, Rey! Look at this!” he blurted out, practically shoving the phone in her face.

She raised an eyebrow, pulling her face back a little before focusing on the screen. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips as she handed the phone back to him. “Aw, mira nomás. They’re asking you out,” she teased, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “My little Mateo’s all grown up.”

“It’s not a date,” Gekko shot back, his cheeks tinting pink as he tried—and failed—to suppress his excitement. “They just want help. You know, picking stuff out.” He flipped his phone over in his hands nervously. “I mean, that’s cool, right? Like, it’s normal.”

Reyna snorted. “Yeah, normal for someone who likes you,” she said, crossing her arms. “Just don’t do anything dumb, and por favor, don’t forget to actually listen to them. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it!” Gekko said quickly, typing out a response with speed that would make Dizzy jealous.

“Bet! Meet you at 3? Can’t wait, it’s gonna be dope!”

As soon as the message sent, he jumped up like he’d just scored a game-winning goal. Reyna rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she watched him grab his jacket.

“Don’t forget your phone,” she called after him, the boy in such a hurry he almost tripped over himself turning to grab it off the table he’d just set it down at. “And don’t forget to be safe on your date,” she added with a smirk.

Gekko paused mid-stride, groaning dramatically. “It’s not a date!” But the way he practically skipped out the door told a different story.

Gekko burst into his room, already stripping off his hoodie and tossing it onto the nearest chair. “Okay, okay, calm down, it’s just the mall,” he muttered to himself, standing in front of his closet. “No big deal. Just helping them with their room. Not a date. Definitely not a—”

His creatures interrupted his self-pep talk, chirping and squeaking as they peered at him from their favorite spots. Wingman tilted his head, clearly judging Gekko’s sudden wardrobe crisis, while Dizzy floated lazily, already bored of his pacing. Thrash let out a playful growl, nudging at his shoes as if to say, “Hurry up, dude.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll shower first!” Gekko announced, grabbing a towel and bolting for the bathroom. The water was barely warm before he jumped in, scrubbing quickly but thoroughly. “Can’t show up smelling like a gym bag. They’ll think I’m gross,” he muttered, rinsing off in record time.

Back in his room, he threw on a clean t-shirt and his favorite jacket, pausing only to fluff his hair in the mirror. “Alright, chill vibes. Cool, but not trying too hard.” He gave himself a once-over, grinning nervously. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

As he skated toward the meeting spot, his nerves kicked in. What if he said something dumb? What if you didn’t actually think his suggestions were cool? His phone buzzed again—another text from you. “Hey, running a little early. See you soon!”

“¡No manches!” he yelped, kicking his board harder to pick up speed.

As he turned the corner, he spotted you standing outside a café, casually scrolling on your phone. The sight of you made his stomach do flips. He slowed down a bit, hopping off his skateboard and rolling it alongside him as he approached.

“Hey, uh…” His voice cracked slightly as you looked up and smiled at him. His brain short-circuited for a second. Why do you have to look so cute just standing there?

“Teo!” you greeted warmly, slipping your phone into your bag. “Since you’re here, wanna go ahead?”

“H-here? Already?” He blinked, trying to collect himself. “Oh, yeah! Of course. Totally. I was just, uh…y’know, warming up my board and stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at his slightly disheveled hair and the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Warming up your board?”

“Yep. Gotta keep it…ready for action,” he said, cringing internally at how lame he sounded.

You chuckled, making his cheeks burn brighter. “Well, action guy, let’s get going. I have no idea where to start, so I’m counting on you.”

“Count on me?” His chest puffed up slightly, the nervous energy melting into excitement. “Yeah, I got you. Your room’s gonna look sick when we’re done!”

“Good,” you teased, nudging his arm as you started walking together. “I’ve got high expectations, Teo.”

“Don’t even worry,” he said, his confidence growing with each step. “I won’t let you down.”

Little did he know, you were already impressed—nerves and all.

As the automatic doors of the mall whooshed open, the bustling energy hit you immediately—bright lights, cheerful chatter, and the faint aroma of food court pretzels wafting through the air. Mateo was practically vibrating with excitement beside you, his skateboard tucked under his arm.

“So, where to first?” he asked, glancing around. His creatures peeked out from his bag, clearly curious about the lively environment.

“Well,” you started, scanning the directory near the entrance. “I was thinking posters first. I want something cool for my wall.”

Gekko’s eyes lit up. “Posters? Oh, I got you. C’mon, I know a spot!”

You followed his lead, weaving through the crowd as he navigated the maze of stores with surprising ease. A few minutes later, you both stood in front of a small, vibrant shop filled with an array of posters plastered across every inch of the walls. Bands, movies, art prints—you name it, they had it.

Stepping inside, Gekko immediately gravitated toward a display of music posters. “Okay, so what vibe are we going for? Chill, artsy, total chaos?” he asked, flipping through the rack with practiced ease.

You laughed, joining him. “I’m not sure yet. Something that makes my room feel…more me, I guess. What do you think?”

Gekko paused, tapping his chin dramatically. “Hmm. Alright, lemme see.” He rummaged through a stack, pulling out a bright, graffiti-style print. “What about this? Bold, colorful—kinda like you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a smile tugging at your lips. “Bold and colorful, huh? Didn’t know you thought of me that way, Teo.”

His face turned a deep shade of pink. “I-I mean, not like that—well, I do, but like, in a cool way!” he stammered, flustered. Wingman peeked out of his bag, chirping at him as if to say smooth move, bro.

You chuckled, reaching out to take the poster from him. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. This one’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah?” he asked, the tips of his ears still red.

You nodded, glancing around the store. “What else do you think? Show me your expert taste.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, regaining his confidence. He grabbed another print, this one a minimalist black-and-white design of a city skyline. “What about this? It’s kinda chill but also classy. Good balance, right?”

“Impressive,” you teased, holding both options side by side. “You’re better at this than I expected.”

“Hey, don’t sleep on me,” he said with a grin. “I know a thing or two about style.”

You spent a while longer exploring the store, occasionally laughing at Gekko’s over-the-top reactions to some of the more outlandish designs—like a life-sized cutout of Rose from the Titatnic.

Finally, with two posters in hand, you headed toward the register. “I think these are perfect,” you said, glancing at him. “Thanks for the help, Teo.” As if on autopilot, you grabbed his chin swiftly and turned it away from you, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

As your hand fell, his went up, touching the spot your lips had been as a moment of savoring. “Sorry.” You giggle, seeing the man standing before you in bewilderment, staring at your face like he'd found treasure. Nonchalantly, you pulled out your wallet to pay but, without a word, his hand pushed yours down. He cleared his throat, fiddling nervously with his wallet to pay the man at the register. As soon as the translation was done, the look of desperation was evident on his face. 

“C’mere.” You gasped softly as Gekko’s warm hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, a mixture of surprise and yearning swirling in his eyes. Your breath hitched as he leaned in slowly, giving you just enough time to either pull away or close the gap.

You chose the latter.

The moment his lips met yours, it was as though the world around you faded. The chaos of the mall—the chatter, the footsteps, the background music—melted into a muffled hum, leaving only the electric connection between the two of you. His lips moved against yours, firm but tender, his confidence growing with every second.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his jacketed shoulders, steadying yourself as your head spun. One of his hands stayed firmly on your waist, grounding you, while the other traveled up your back, his fingertips brushing the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You pulled back just slightly, catching your breath as your forehead rested against his. Both of you were panting softly, his eyes now dark with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“Teo,” you whispered, voice trembling, but before you could say more, he tilted his head and captured your lips again, deeper this time, as though he couldn’t get enough of you. His passion was intoxicating, and you found yourself melting into him, hands sliding up into his hair as you lost yourself in the moment.

A loud, awkward cough from the man at the register jolted you both back to reality. You jumped apart slightly, faces flushed as you glanced around. A few people were staring, some smiling, others amused, but the world seemed a little brighter as Gekko’s hand stayed firmly at your waist, holding onto you as though he wasn’t ready to let go.

“I, uh, thank you,” he murmured to the man who had rolled and bagged up the posters, a flashy grin tugging at his swollen lips.

Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face as he took the bag, his hand never once leaving yours.

[itsdanii]

i loved the rejecting and regretting series!! could you do one with akaashi and osamu? thanks again!!

Hey, bub. Thank you so much for requesting. I'm happy that you're loving my works, it makes my heart soft 😭♥️ Here's your request! I hope you have a good day and stay hydrated. Mwah!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 5

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: rude behavior (resolved), cursing

a/n: Do read the warnings before you proceed. Warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. akaashi keiji, osamu miya

Title says it all

Akaashi Keiji

With your grades in literature almost at the brink of destruction, you had to swallow your pride and ask one of your classmates to tutor you

While you're the best in most subject areas, you sucked when it comes to literature

You didn't see the point of studying articles, analyzing literary pieces and using poetic words

But for the sake of graduating, you had to take the subject

But it seemed like the subject hated you just as much as you hated it

And so, one afternoon, you slammed a limited edition book you knew Akaashi, your classmate and your crush, liked on his desk and stared at him with pleading eyes as you begged him to tutor you

At first, he rejected the offer, opting to pat your head before leaving the classroom

But you were persistent

It wasn't long then when he started taking pity on you

All your papers had red marks in them and everytime there was a test, you would stare blankly at your paper and jot down nonsense ideas

At the sight of you in the  brink of tears, Akaashi sighed and decided to help, given that you have to focus and not do random stuff during your sessions

And that's how you found yourself in this current situation - hand holding the pen tightly, your eyes focused on the man in front of you instead of the story analysis he's explaining, and your heart beating as if you just finished a 5km run

"Are you even listening?"

You blinked your eyes at him and smiled sheepishly before scratching the back of your head. You knew that a small blush was probably visible on your cheeks now but of course, you had to play it cool.

"Of course," you said with a confident nod. "You were uh, talking about young love."

Akaashi rose an eyebrow at your answer as if challenging you to elaborate.

"The main character was in love with the guy... and the guy doesn't like her? And she-" you paused for a moment and grabbed the book you were reading, eyes scanning between the lines before continuing your probably wrong answer. "She died?"

With a sigh, Akaashi stood up and sat beside you, your elbows pressing against each other as he leaned down to write something on your book.

"Okay, first and foremost, she didn't die. She left. This part here-"

As he continued explaining, you felt yourself getting lost once again. Your eyes scanned over his features, taking notice of how long his lashes were and how flawless his skin was that you were almost tempted to caress it. His scent surrounded you for being too close which tempted you to shut your eyes.

"I like you," you blurted out unconsciously.

The both of you froze as soon as the words escaped your lips, eyes widening and lips parting as you stared at each other with shocked expressions.

Fuck.

Aaashi, who was the first to compose himself, cleared his throat before sitting upright. "Y/n-san, I'm really flattered by your infatuation but you do know that I'm only here to tutor you, right? We agreed to focus. We're supposed to be studying, not flirting with each other."

"I know but..."

"I can't accept your confession, I'm sorry," Akaashi said before sighing. "How about we end this session already? I don't want your mind wandering while I talk here knowing that you're out of focus."

You immediately shook your head no. "It's okay, Keiji. You don't have to like me back, you know? Just let me like you. You can just pretend that nothing happened. I promise I won't do anything that'll make you feel uncomfortable."

Despite your facade, Akaashi knew that you were forcing yourself to act unbothered. It wasn't really hard to figure you out. Like a book, he could read you within seconds and know exactly what you were thinking and how you were feeling, and at this moment, he knew that you were just pretending.

For the sake of not making you feel uncomfortable and guilty, Akaashi nodded before continuing his explanation regarding the story.

Surprisingly, you stayed true to your words. You didn't say anything out of the line nor forced your confession to him. Akaashi admired you for that since most of the girls whom asked him for help from the past were only after his looks and the sake of getting in his pants.

As your session came to an end, you stretched your arms out. You released a breath of relief before smiling at him. "Thank you so much for teaching me, and I'm sorry for taking so much of your time."

You started keeping your things and piling up the books you're going to borrow from the library. Standing up, you gave him a small bow before grabbing your bag. "I'll see you around then?"

Akaashi just nodded and watched as you made your way out of the library, not knowing how hard you were gripping the books you had in your hand.

That night, you cried your eyes out. Sure, at your age, it may seem childish to cry over someone, but this was Akaashi we're talking about.

The Akaashi Keiji.

The one whom you've liked ever since your first year in college. The one you've liked the moment you saw him sleeping inside a nearly empty library, several cups of coffee and littered paper surrounding his table as if he had been studying the whole night. The one who never noticed you but you never failed to notice.

Your Akaashi, or at least in your dreams, he was yours.

You stared at the now empty tub of icecream on your lap and sniffled. Grabbing another roll of tissue, you began to wipe your tears and your runny nose before playing another cliche romance movie to soothe your broken heart.

-

Your study sessions with Akaashi continued for a couple more weeks but unlike your previous meetings, you weren't as enthusiastic.

You were focused and attentive, but it just wasn't the same. Akaashi noticed how you would try to put a bit of distance between the two of you, how you would avoid looking at him in the eye, and how you avoided touching him.

But what he noticed the most, were your swollen eyes the day after you confessed to him. He knew that there was only a 50% chance that it was because of how you were rejected by him, and yet he felt an immense feeling of regret. The moment he saw you, he realized that he never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn't know how to approach you. No, you didn't ignore him like the other girls do. You also didn't say any nasty remarks nor talk shit about him.

What you did was pretend as if everything was okay, as if nothing happened. It felt normal... too normal.

And it terrified him.

One time during your break, you slipped a test paper in front of him, a big A+ written on the sheet of paper making Akaashi lift his eyes from the paper towards you.

"You did good," Akashi said with a proud smile.

"Mhm, I guess I did," you said before taking the paper from him. "I wouldn't have gotten this score if it weren't for you though. Thank you."

He shook his head no before leaning back on his chair. "That was all on you. All I did was guide you."

"This might be our last study session."

"What?" Akaashi said as he stared at you with an expression you can't quite decipher.

"I mean... I don't think I need any more help. I feel like I can manage on my own already and I've no one to thank but you." You looked away from him before continuing, "I think it would benefit the two of us if we stop this already. While I'm grateful for you, I don't think that it's good for me anymore. I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter then it wouldn't, but Keiji..."

"No," Akashi said with a shake of his head.

"What do you.."

"I don't want to stop this." Gripping his hair, Akaashi, took in a deep breath before reaching for your hand.

"Y/n, I don't want to go back to how things were before. I don't want to be just your classmate. I'll miss how you would stare off into space and daydream while I'm explaining to you and I'm going to miss how you would make up answers just to prove that you were listening when in fact you weren't. I'm going to miss you, and I know that if we stop this study sessions... I may never get the opportunity to be this close to you again, and I don't like that."

Akaashi squeezed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers. "I like you. I like you so much that it scares me."

"Keiji.. look at me, please," you said softly as you tried to take your hand back.

Feeling your movements, Akaashi tightened his hold on you and shook his head no. "Y/n..."

"I'm not going to leave," you assured him and smiled when he finally let go of your hand.

Akaashi watched as you stood up from your seat and made your way to his side. He was then surprised when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around him.

"Did you really mean what you said?" you asked which made him immediately nod.

"Of course. I really do like you." Akaashi carefully wrapped his arms around your waist, watching for any negative reaction, and pulling you closer when he didn't receive any. "You're sitting on my lap and basically hugging me. Does this mean that you still like me?"

"Of course, Keiji," you said with a smile.

"Then..." Akaashi collected your hair to one side and gently placed his hand on your nape, his eyes traveling down from your eyes to your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

With a simple nod from you, Akaashi pressed his lips against yours.

a/n: yes, you made out in the library. This is Akaashi were talking about and there's no way I wont take the opportunity to make out with him in the library lmao.

Osamu Miya

You were one of the lucky fans of the Miya twins, specifically Osamu's

Why? Because you're Aran Ojiro's sister and that meant that you can freely see your crush any time of the day

The team basically treats you as their own sister

Although it gives you a lot of perks, it also had its disadvantages

Because no matter how much you try hinting your feelings towards a certain Miya, he just won't acknowledge it

In fact, you didn't get along with him

Unlike the rest of the team, Osamu would always pick on you

You actually didn't expect it to happen because you thought that Atsumu was the playful one among them

But boy did Osamu prove you wrong

There weren't any time of the day that you won't pick at each other, spouting remarks here and there until the other gives up

It never went overboard though. You both knew your limits and when to stop

Or at least that's what you thought

Because today, he chose to target the wrong topic

You were currently seated in the middle of the court with the rest of the team. All of you were in the form of a circle with an empty bottle in the middle.

It was Atsumu's idea to play a game of truth or dare before you all go home. According to him, it would be effective on "cooling" off their bodies from the intense practice. Even Kita was forced to participate, thanks to Atsumu's constant whining.

With a wide grin, Atsumu spun the bottle which made most of you take in a deep breath due to the anticipation.

Finally, the bottle stopped. The tip was pointed at you while the other side was pointed towards Atsumu.

"Y/n! How lucky of ya! Truth or dare?" he asked with a wiggle of his brows.

"Truth." You couldn't help but roll your eyes after that, knowing that what's to come will probably be something silly.

Except it wasn't.

"Then... If yer given the chance to date someone from the team, who would it be?" Atsumu asked proudly, giving Osamu a side glance before focusing on you again.

You heard your brother groaning from beside you making you giggle. Placing his arm on top of your head, Aran gave each of the members a glare.

"Hm... I'd probably date 'S-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, Osamu let out a loud chuckle. All eyes snapped to his direction, watching him in confusion.

"Sorry, sorry," Osamu said after composing himself. "Did ya really have to ask that? Of course she'd pick Suna. Haven't ya notice the way she looks at him every practice?"

"Huh?" Suna muttered absentmindedly, his eyes lifting up from his phone towards Osamu.

"Don't even try denying it, y/n. Plus, even if ya try, I know Suna will basically reject ya. I mean, I can't even stand ya. If it were me, I'd reject ya on the spot. Yer annoying and too loud and that thing ya do with yer hand when yer explaining? Super annoying. Ah! And don't ferget the way yer nose scrunches when yer deep in thought," Osamu said without any pause.

Once he was done, he titled his head a bit to the side, trying to peek at your face that was now casted downwards, your hair covering most of your face. "Oh, are ya crying? Did I ruin yer confession?"

To his surprise, there were indeed tears streaming down your cheeks when you lifted your head up. Everyone grew silent, completely shocked at the sight.

"I was going to confess to you, dumbass." With that, you stood up, grabbed your bag and ran out of the gym.

Aran immediately stood up to follow you, but not before throwing a glare to Osamu.

Atsumu, who was the first to break the silence, turned towards his twin. "Okay, I know that I'm dumber among the two of us but that was a real jerk move right there, 'Samu."

Osamu could only stare at the gym doors with shock and regret written on his face.

"You're on the bench until I'm sure that you and y/n-san made up," Kita simply said before standing up. "Game's over. Let's all go home."

-

The following days, you avoided Osamu like a plague. It even reached the point that you have to eat lunch inside your classroom instead of eating with the team like you usually do.

Even Aran was pissed at Osamu. Aran knew that a playful banter was normal between you and Osamu but never had it ever reached this point.

You were basically crying all night when you arrived home and if not for Aran's patience, you wouldn't have went home in the first place. When you left the gym, your brother found you in a nearby park, your knees up to your chest and your head hidden from view.

He wasn't oblivious about your feelings towards Osamu but he never mentioned about since he wanted you to tell him or any of the members when you're comfortable enough. It was only unfortunate that the moment you felt confident enough to confess, Osamu had to pull that shit on you.

"C'mon, Aran. I need to talk to them," Osamu pleaded as he tried to get pass your brother.

Aran stood firmly infront of your apartment, his arms crossed over his chest and his figure blocking the door. "You really have the audacity to march your way to our apartment after the shit you put my sibling through? What, you got tired of sitting on the bench during matches? Can't impress your fanclub anymore? Go home, Miya."

"I'm sorry, okay? I wanted to apologize to them but they've been avoiding me. This is my last resort." Osamu said and gripped his hair in frustration.

Once he saw a peek of you trying to hide yourself behind a wall, Osamu immediately grabbed the opportunity. "Y/n, I'm sorry! Talk to me, please!  I... I don't know what to do anymore. I'm sorry..."

You soften at the pleading voice of Osamu and revealed yourself from behind the wall. Walking over to the door, you placed a hand on Aran's shoulder. "Give us space to talk, please?"

Your brother threw a glance at Osamu and sighed at the determined look on his face. "Alright," he muttered before turning towards you. "Call me if anything happens, alright?"

Upon hearing you hum in agreement, Aran placed a hand on your head to ruffle your hair, chuckling as he heard you whining before he went out.

You invited Osamu inside your apartment, making sure to close the door before settling yourselves on the living room.

"Water?" you asked out of courtesy but Osamu only shook his head no. "Talk then."

Osamu felt an unsettling feeling inside him at your dismissive tone. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I was used to havin' banters with ya that I didn't realize that I was already sayin' too much. I didn't mean to hurt yer feelings, y/n. I know that it may sound ridiculous considerin' how harsh I was to ya but I really didn't mean those words."

You listened attentively to him as he continued to apologize, your tears once again flowing down your cheeks as you remembered everything that happened. "I really like you, 'Samu. I don't even know how or why but I just do and I guess I was hurt, not only because you rejected me but also humiliated me. I don't deserve that," you said and brought your knees up to your chest, clutching the throw blanket as you sobbed.

Osamu was beside you in an instant, his arms enclosing you as he pulled you to his lap. "I know...I know. I'm sorry," he whispered as he rubbed your back soothingly. "I guess I got blinded by jealousy. I thought that ya were going to say Suna's name so I assumed that ya like him."

Wiping your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie you're wearing, you looked up at him with a frown. "Jealousy? I thought you hated me. Why would you even feel jealous?"

"Do I really have to spell it out fer ya?" Seeing you nod, Osamu sighed and pressed your face to his chest in order to hide his flustered cheeks. "I like ya, okay? I always pick on ya because I wanted yer attention. I didn't actually expect ya to fight back but ya did. That's why I was intrigued by ya, and if ya still like m-"

"Yes," you answered without even letting him finish. With your face still buried to his chest, you could hear his heartbeat picking up. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, you cheeks still slightly damp from crying.

"Yer not kiddin'?" Osamu asked as he stared at you, his hand reaching up to wipe your cheeks with his thumb.

"I'm not. I'm still a little hurt so you have to make it up to me, but my feelings? They're still here," you answered honestly.

A smile made its way to Osamu's lips upon hearing what you said. Pressing his forehead with yours, he tightened his arms around your waist to hold you closer. "Thank ya fer givin' me another chance, angel."

After making up and stealing kisses here and there, you and Osamu decided to cuddle on the couch, your back against his chest and his arm resting against your waist.

It safe to say that when Aran came back, the most sour expression made its way to his face. It hadn't even been two weeks when he witnessed you literally crying your eyes out and now, he comes back to you sleeping on the couch with the man that made you cry.

"Fuck my life," Aran muttered with a groan.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[xoxo-teddybear]

Denied - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, Crack, slice of life

Summary: Bakugou taught Eri how to swear....Y/N found out.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

For the past 2 weeks, Mr. Aizawa had been having staff meetings back to back and as a result, you and Bakugou have been babysitting Eri. Or more so, you have been babysitting Eri but Bakugou being your boyfriend, he’s usually around. Don’t worry though, like the good boyfriend he is, he usually helps.

Over time, Eri has grown very fond of you and Katsuki. Matter of fact, she loved you both so much, the second she found out you two were dating, she ended up calling you “Mom” and “Dad.” It was adorable, really, and the entire class saw the 3 of you as a little family. Bakugou couldn’t fight the blush that grew on his face everytime Eri called him “Dad” but he got used to it. Now, the two of you even refer to her as your daughter.

Now being around the little girl so much, she has grown to copy some of your behavior and traits. For example, she takes after your love for dance and singing. She’s also learned to play with makeup after watching you apply it so many times. With Bakugou, she’s learned how to defend herself more and be a little more confident. Sadly, she is exposed to his vulgar mouth and attitude and therefore picks up on that a lot. And once you found out, hell broke loose.

—

It was a casual Saturday at the dorms. Some students went home for the weekend while a lot happened to stay behind. Visiting the dorms was sweet little Eri and you were currently having a little play date with her in the common area. Usually, Bakugou would be there with you and her but he’s having his bro time with the boys of the Bakusquad. Understandable. Just means more Eri for you.

Eri was currently drawing a little doodle on some scrap paper while you snacked on apple slices and played on your phone. The white haired girl was filling in her yellow sun when she accidentally split the paper.

“Shit.” She cussed. She didn’t cry at the ruined drawing but she did sigh in disappointment before grabbing a fresh piece of paper.

You on the other hand choked on your fruit slice once your heard the word come out of her mouth. You didn’t bother asking her where she learned the new word. You already knew.

“Eri, sweetie. Stay here for a sec’ okay? I’m gonna go find Dad and talk to him for a bit.” You said with a smile as you got up from your seat on the couch.

“Dad? Ouu, can I go too? I wanna see Dad.” She said with excitement. You smiled at her cute behaviour and ran your fingers through her hair.

“Sorry love, but Dad is in trouble right now. He doesn’t deserve to see his precious little Eri.” You said. She laughed and nodded her head before going back to her drawing. You walked away and once you were out of sight, you dropped your smile and a pair of angry eyes along with a scowl formed on your face. “Oh, Daddy is in so much trouble.”

—

Bakugou was currently in his dorm room with Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari. They were all going at it with each other on Mario Kart until Bakugou’s spidey senses started kicking in.

“Do you guys feel that?” He asked, stopping his movements on the controller. He looked towards the door and he could hear faint footsteps coming towards them.

“What’re you talking about bro?” Kirishima asked as he stopped his game to look at his friend. Kaminari did the same and grew nervous at the frantic look on Bakugou’s face.

“Woah! What’s with that look?” Kaminari asked the shaking man. Bakugou was trembling as he had an idea of who was coming.

“I’m gonna die,” the ash blonde whispered out but still remained loud enough for his friends to hear.

“B-Bakugou! What’s going on?!” Sero asked as he stood up.

“S-Somethings coming!” Bakugou shouted in fear. His friends watched as the bravest guy in the world stood in fear and trembled as he carefully watched the door. Loud footsteps could be heard coming closer and closer and so naturally out of fear, the 3 hid behind the blonde who owned the room.

“What is?!” Kirishima asked.

“Something lethal!” Bakugou replied in fear as he took a step back. The footsteps got louder and louder causing the friends to freak out even more.

“What is coming?! BAKUGOU, WHAT IS COMING?!” Kaminari shouted in fear.

“The devil herself..” The footsteps got louder, got closer, until eventually..they stopped. The 4 friends watched the door until it was busted open to reveal and angry Y/N. “My girlfriend....EXCEPT SHE’S PISSED!”

“KATSUKI BAKUGOU!” You screamed at the trembling blonde who was in front of his cowering friends.

“Wait, wait, wait!” The blonde shouted with his hands up. “....Can I get a head start?”

“Denied.” You bluntly said.

“Figures. RUN!” Bakugou said to his friends. With the dorm room being so small, the 4 friends had nowhere to go. In a bold move, they ran to the exit that you were currently standing in and pushed you out of the way, breaking free from your sight.

“Pathetic.” You said and slanted your eyes at the friends as they ran down the hall. You followed after them and chased them all around the dormitory. From the 4th floor, to the 3rd, to the staircase, to the 1st floor (avoiding Eri), and back up to the 2nd.

The friends all ran together in a group, thinking there would be safety in numbers. They ran together for a good amount of time before a realization came to Kaminari.

“Wait a minute! She’s not after us! She’s pissed at Bakugou!” The electric blonde said while running.

“So, what? Do we ditch him?” Sero asked while they all continued to run.

“Yes!” Kaminari said. The wanted blonde looked to the other blonde in anger.

“What?! You idiots can’t just abandon me!” He said. Kaminari was going to respond until they heard a voice behind them.

“Katsuki!” You screamed. The friends turned around as they continued to run and saw you right on their tail.

“AHHHH!!!!” They all screamed.

“Sorry man! We like living!” Kirishima said.

“Well so do I!” The blonde replied. His best friend just shrugged his shoulders before answering.

“SCATTER!” He said to the other 2 and Bakugou’s 3 friends all went separate ways. Just like they planned, you ignored them and followed your boyfriend’s trail.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK! FU-“

“SHUT UP KATSUKI!” You said before jumping onto him and tacking him to the ground. You pinned your boyfriend to the floor and he didn’t even open his eyes to look at you.

“ImSorryForEverythingIDidISwearI’llFindAWayToMakeItUpToYouTeddyBear,YouAreTheLoveOfMyLifeAndYou’reSoBeautifulAndILoveTheOutfitYou’reWearing,YouLookBeautifulInEverythingPrincess,I’mSorryIBrokeYourGivenchySunglassesAndBlamedItOnDunceFaceI’llBuyYouNewOnes,ISwear!ILoveYou!” He blurted out with his head facing the other way to ‘dodge’ your attack he assumed you were going to throw.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before getting off of Bakugou and helping him stand to his feet. “Okay, first of all, thank you for the compliments and I love you too baby,” you said and pecked his cheek. “Second, the reason why I’m so mad is because Eri learned a new word today. She fucked up the paper she was drawing on, and cussed. I wonder where she picked that up from..Katsuki.”

Your boyfriend only laughed nervously while shrugging and you sighed some more while throwing your head back. “Okay look, I would punish you, but I’m too tired from all that running and I’m pretty sure all the adrenaline and fear you were feeling before is punishment enough.”

The blonde nodded his head quickly like a puppy trying to agree.

“Just, don’t do it again Suki. Please? At least try to restrain yourself around Eri.” You said. Bakugou nodded again and you huffed before opening your arms up for him. He smiled and quickly took the offering. He held you in his embrace and peppered your face in quick kisses.

“Thank you!” He replied with gratitude. You smiled at him and took his hand to lead him to the common rooms. He happily followed and took a seat on the couch with you, where Eri finally noticed his presence.

“Mom! Dad! You’re back!” Your “daughter” said as she jumped the two of you on the couch. Bakugou pulled her into his lap so you could all be together.

“Listen kid, there’s gonna be a few words that’ll occasionally slip out of my mouth from time to time and it’s important for you to not say them. Okay?” Bakugou said to the little girl.

“Okay! But what are the words?” She asked him. Bakugou just chuckled and placed a hand on her head before speaking.

“We’ll speak about that next time, for now just get back to playing.” He said.

“Okay!” Was all she said before jumping off his lap and going back to her crayons. You scooted closer to Katsuki and squeezed his hand that you were still holding. This grabbed his attention and he turned and placed a quick kiss on your lips before throwing his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his touch and you both cuddled up on the couch. Some time passed and you both talked, watched Eri, and played around with her until you two cuddled up again and you turned to ask him a question.

“So...about my Givenchy Sunglasses,” you questioned him. Bakugou froze up in fear again before releasing a nervous chuckle.

“Hehe...”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101

[lilyevansisamilf7]

I Think We Could - James Potter

Warnings - none really just kinda angsty

Summary - You love James, but he loves Lily more. Could he learn to love you?

__________________________________________

His eyes were blue.

I’d never noticed that before but they were really blue, especially in the firelight - the common room was way past cold and it was way past curfew, it was only us awake now, and I couldn’t help but notice they were blue.

For once in a long time, my mind didn’t wander to the potions essay that’ll I’ll worry about getting done in time and still do two hours before lesson and for once it was silent.

“I love you”

I didn’t mean to blurt it out, but maybe it’s better I did it now, with a war on the horizons I don’t want to die with regrets. I needed him to know, even if he didn’t love me too. I mean for the past five years he’s been obsessed with lily, I understand why too, she’s beautiful and she’s kind. God why is she so hard to hate, I want to hate her, but I can’t. I just can’t.

“Oh umm y/n I love you too,” I smiled a huge grin.

“I mean you’re my best friend, other than Sirius of course but you’re still one of my best friends and I love all my friends”

My smile then dropped. I don’t know if he kept rambling after that, I knew he couldn’t love me, maybe it was for the best.

“Are you crying?” I touch my hand to my face

“Oh I guess I am” I chuckle lightly, and he looks at me puzzled

“What’s wrong n/n?” He moved closer to me, “Is it that time of month, do I need to raid moonys chocolate stash again?” I laughed lightly to that, remembering all the times we stole Remus’ chocolate and then ran from him as he chased us all the way to Honeydukes to buy him more.

“No James, I just love you”

“I know, but why are you crying?”

“No James, I love you” I cried, “Like the way you love lily, not the way you love Sirius”

“Oh”

The silence that followed that hurt my heart. I’d never seen James look so confused, not in the six years I’ve known him, not in all that time has he looked so confused, not even when he found out about periods or Remus’ furry little problem, I didn’t know what to do.

“It’s okay Jamie, I just needed to say it” I smile, “We’re still best friends and everything I just need some time to figure myself out, I know that you don’t love me the way I love you and that’s fine but I need time to heal my heart, I need some time to heal me James” I watched as a tear escaped his eye too quick for him to catch it

“But you’ll come back right?” he whimpered, “You have to come back, you’re my y/n, you have to”

I get up and squat in front of him, grabbing his hands

“I’ll always come back Jamie, I’m y/n, your y/n. I just need some time”

Hearing his cry’s broke my heart but I knew I needed the space, I always hated seeing him cry, I was the one he’d need when he cried about lily, or about his parents or the war, and I couldn’t stand the sight of it.

“Oh don’t cry Jamie, Im not going to be gone for very long, I just need some time to cry and eat ice cream and then we can be best friends together and prank Snape together again, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered.

I got up to leave but a hand grabs my wrist, why did he have to make this so difficult.

“Y/n?” A voice calls out

“Yes Jamie”

“I think we could, I think I could love you like that, someday,” he said, his voice cracked from tears.

“I know Jamie, I know,” I turn back around, “But right now you don’t, I don’t know how long my feelings will let me wait.”

Walking towards him, I bend down to kiss his forehead, brushing his curls out of his eyes. I lean our heads together one last time and start walking away. When I reach the steps I turn to him.

“Jamie?”

“Yes,” he responds happily

“You’re eyes are really pretty, they’re really blue”

And then I walked away, I swear I could’ve seen him blush.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Oh Brother

Pairing: Peter Parker x Flash’s sister!reader

Requested by @forlaughingoutl0ud : Peter has a crush on you, despite how much your brother torments him

Masterlist

Flash was known to torment Peter.

You, being Flash’s sister, were known to defend Peter from your brothers antics.

“Morning, Penis Parker.” Flash came up to Peter at his locker. “What did you have for breakfast this morning? Food stamps?”

Before Peter could respond, you appeared behind Flash and grabbed his ear.

“Ow! Ow ow ow ow!” He whined as you pulled him by the ear, dragging him away from Peter. Peter watched you with a smile as you dragged your brother away.

“Let’s go.” You sighed. “If you’re late to homeroom, Mrs. Weiss is gonna send a note home. Again.”

It was an every day occurrence.

“Nice shoes, Parker.” Flash snorted. “Dumpster diving is so amazing these days, isn’t it?”

“Oh my God, you’re so funny.” You whipped around in your seat and narrowed your eyes at your brother. “Tell us another one. Please?”

He liked it to keep it consistent.

“Can anyone tell me what this number is?” Your teacher asked as she wrote the digits of Pi, 3.14, on the board.

“It’s Parker’s annual income.” Flash called out, earning a few laughs.

“Why is it that no one ever wants to hear you speak and yet you’re always talking?” You piped up in Peters defense. The class “ooed” at your comeback and Peter smiled shyly to himself.

“Whatever.” Flash scoffed. “You look fat today.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You directed your attention to Peter. “He’s a little cranky this morning.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled sheepishly. You smiled back and shot him a wink before turning around in your seat.

And that was when Peter realized he was whipped for you.

“Can anyone tell me what an impulse is?” The teacher asked the class one day. “Yes, Flash?”

“It’s something you really want to do and have no control over.” Flash answered. “Like when I give Peter a wedgie during gym class, I did it on an impulse. That means I can’t be held responsible.”

“No.” The teacher signed. “Can anyone else tell me what it is? Yes, Peter?”

“A change in momentum.” Peter said, just a little smugly. “Ft equals mv minus mu.”

“Thank you, Peter.” The teacher smiled. “That’s right.”

“I was technically also right.” Flash spoke up. “You didn’t specify what context it was in.”

“This is a physics class.” You laughed. “That’s your context.”

“Whatever. You don’t have to defend him just because he has a giant crush on you.” Flash shot back and the class reacted accordingly. It was common knowledge that Peter had feelings for you and Flash liked to use that to his advantage.

“What? No I don’t.” Peter stammered. “That would be stupid.”

“Why would it be stupid?” You looked at him curiously, sending a flush across his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Can we get back to the lesson, please?” Your teacher asked through a tight smile. “You three can sort this out in your free time.”

“Lucky for us, Peter never has anything but free time.” Flash taunted. “Being poor really opens up your schedule.”

“Leave him alone, Eugene.” You snapped. “This is why mom doesn’t love you.”

“She does too!” Flash took the bait. “You’re the adopted one.”

“I know.” You shrugged smugly. “Our parents chose me. You were just an unfortunate accident.”

“My existence is not unfortunate.” He stated.

“Aren’t you a Gemini?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He said.

I’m a Gemini too I’m so sorry

“Then yeah, it is.” You scrunched your nose. The class stopped laughed at Peter and directed their attention to Flash. Peter looked at you in amazement and you winked at him.

“Thompsons.” The teacher interrupted. “I want you out of this class. Both of you. Now.”

You glared at your brother angrily as you grabbed your bag and headed towards the door.

“This is all your fault.” He growled at you as he opened the door.

“Oh, please.” Your argument was muffled as you made your way down the hallway.

Peter’s leg bounced in anticipation as he waited for the bell to ring, springing out of his seat as soon as it did. He immediately went to your locker, where you were busy putting your books away. Peter took a deep breath before he approached you, nervously making the first move.

“Hey.” He spoke up, making you turn your head in his direction. You shot him a smile that heated his entire face up.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted. “Did I miss anything fun in physics?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “Unless you like learning about momentum.”

“You know what, Peter? I can’t say I do.” You chuckled as you took a notebook out of your locker.

“Thanks for sticking up for me before. I’m sorry you got kicked out of class.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You shook your head and shut your locker. “It was totally worth it to put Flash in his place. Plus, I’m totally gonna dip his toothbrush in the toilet later. Walk with me.”

He began to walk with you out of school and in the direction of the residential buildings.

“Do siblings do that?” He wondered. “I’m an only child.”

“Are you? You’re so lucky.” You sighed. “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen into the toilet because he left the seat up?”

“Yeah, thats never happened to me.” He laughed gently. “I take it you guys don’t get along.”

“It’s weird with siblings.” You shrugged. “One minute we hate each other, the next minute we’re talking about the stupid games we used to play on long car rides. There’s no way to describe it.”

“I can’t imagine living with him. It’s hard enough to spend 8 hours a day with him. No offense.” He added quickly.

“None taken.” You smiled at him. “It’s not fun to live with him. The amount of times I’ve walked into the bathroom after him and choked on his body spray is unacceptable. I think he’s trying to kill me.”

“I would be very upset if he did that.” Peter said softly.

“Did what?”

“Killed you.” He looked at you and held your gaze for a moment. You smiled shyly at each other before looking straight ahead.

“What did you mean before when you said it would be stupid to have a crush on me?” You wondered out loud.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Flash has just been bullying me since first grade. It would be stupid if the girl I decided to pine after was his sister.”

“I don’t think that would be stupid.” You shrugged as you snuck a glance at him. Peter blinked in surprise as he made eye contact with you. You both stopped, standing alone in an alleyway now.

“You…you don’t?” He looked at you shyly.

“Not at all.” You shook your head slowly as you took a step closer to him. Peter looked at his shoes for a moment as he gathered some courage, just enough to do what he’d been meaning to do for years now.

“Would you wanna go out sometime then?” He blurted. “Like, on a date?”

“I’d love to.” You smiled. “You still have my number from that group project right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, still swimming from the fact your said yes.

“Then you should text me.”

“I will.” He promised.

“Good. I have to walk back to school before Flash notices I’m gone. I’ll be waiting for that text.” You winked at him and he let out a flustered laugh. You took this as an opportunity to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling his skin heat up beneath your lips. You pulled away and squeezed his hand before leaving him alone in the alley.

Yeah, he was definitely whipped.

“Penis Parker.” Flash slammed an open hand against the lockers next to Peter the following day. “Do you want to tell me why I kept seeing your name on my sister phone last night? Why were you texting her? Are you trying to colonize my families bloodline or something? No white men allowed.”

“What? And no.” Peters face heated up at the accusation. “We’re just friends.”

“You don’t have friends.” Flash snapped.

“Yes he does.” You appeared behind your brother and pushed him lightly. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

Flash narrowed his eyes at you before returning his attention to Peter.

“If you go near my sister again, I’m gonna turn your innie belly button into an outie.” Flash whispered.

“How?” Peter asked with genuine curiosity.

“You don’t want to find out.” He said through gritted teeth before storming away.

“He’s so annoying.” You rolled your eyes and leaned against Peters locker. “You look cute today.”

“Thanks.” Peter chuckled shyly as he looked down at his outfit. “I, um, I have a dilemma.”

“Is this about our date?” You worried.

“It’s just, your family is rich and my family is just me and my aunt. I know Flash makes a lot of jokes about me being poor, but they’re not really jokes.” He explained sheepishly. “I don’t think I can give you the kind of magical date you deserve.”

“Peter, I don’t need a fancy date. I just want to be with you.” You assured him as you stroked his cheek. “Why don’t you bring your favorite snack and I’ll bring my favorite drink and we can lay on top of your building and stargaze?”

“That sounds kinda perfect.” He admitted with a sly smile.

“Does tonight work?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in Physics.” You squeezed his hand before walking away.

You walked into your living room that night, all dressed up for your date. You stopped in front of a mirror to check your makeup, accidentally catches Flash’s eye.

“You look nice.” Flash said as his eyes flicked from you to his phone. “But you know, prostitution is still illegal in New York. It’s a damn shame, though. Sex work is still work.”

“You know, every once in a while, something intelligent comes out of your mouth. Gives me goosebumps every time.” You teased him as you applied your lipgloss.

“Wait, where are you going?” He put his phone down. “It’s a Wednesday night.”

“I’m going to a friends building to look at the stars.” You told him most of the truth.

“Are you walking there?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s not that far.”

“Let me drive you. You have your mace on you, right?” He asked from the kitchen as he grabbed his keys.

“Always.”

“Okay.” He reappeared with his keys. “Let’s go.”

You kept light conversation as you drove to Peters apartment building, careful not to reveal who you were meeting. Flash parked out front and looked at the building in disdain.

“Your friend lives here?” He grimaced. “Is she poor?”

“Shut up. Those jokes aren’t nice.” You shoved him lightly. “Thanks for driving me.”

“It’s okay.” He nodded. “Text me when I should pick you up.”

“I will. Get home safe.” You told him as you got out of the car.

“Whatever. Don’t get pregnant.” He pointed at you. “I mean it.”

“Drive away.” You rolled your eyes as you shut the car door. You walked into the lobby and found the elevator, letting out a nervous breath as you got in. You were standing in from of Peters door in no time, anxiously waiting for him to open it.

Finally, he did.

“Are you ready to stargaze?” You asked as you held up a jug of apple juice.

“Are you ready to eat this entire box of goldfish?” Peter responded as he held up a carton of goldfish.

“You know it.” You laughed and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, you were lying on your backs in opposite directions with your heads pressed together, staring up at the stars.

“I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than a night sky.” You sighed in content.

“I know something.” Peter looked at you, though you were upside down from his perspective.

“If you say me, I’m going kick you in the throat.” You laughed as you looked at him.

“Why?” He laughed as well.

“I don’t know.” You covered your face with your hands. “I’m not good with compliments. I don’t know how to respond.”

Peter turned his head so he was looking at you, eyes trailing over your side profile.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He told you, loving the way it made your draw drop. You rolled onto your side and looked at him before rolled on top. You rested your arms on either side of his face, admiring his face in the starlight, even if it was upside down. Your eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes and before he knew it, you were kissing him. He tilted his chin up so he could kiss you back, finding the position a little awkward as your nose bumped his chin. You both giggled into the kiss before continuing, only breaking away when you needed air. You flipped back on your back and let out a happy sigh, covering your face with your hand to hide your smile.

“That’s one way to respond.” Peter joked, breaking the silence. You laughed and rolled onto your side, him doing the same.

“I really like you.” You admitted, scrunching your nose at how weird it felt to say out loud.

“I really like you too.” Peter told you before leaning in for another kiss.

And that was the beginning of your relationship. You both knew Flash could not find out that you were dating, at least not yet. You had to cave and tell him you and Peter were friends around your second month of dating after he caught him in your room, but you didn’t tell him the full extent of your relationship. You disguised dates as casual hangouts, to which Flash heavily objected. He made his disliking for your “friendship” with Peter known.

“Ugh. You two.” Flash grumbled when he came into the kitchen to find you and Peter making cookies. You gave Peter a pointed look that told him to ignore your brother as Flash got food out of the pantry.

“Cracker.” He looked at Peter with a box of snacks in his hands.

“No thank you.” Peter said politely.

“I wasn’t offering. I was insulting.” Flash blew him a kiss before putting a cracker in his mouth. Peter looked at you for help and you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“How are you two friends?” He wondered. “You’re the worst people on the planet.”

“I beg to differ.” Peter began. “I think-“

“The beg.” Flash snapped before winking at Peter.

“We’re friends because we have similar interest.” You shrugged as you stirred the ingredients. “For example, we’re both very interested in you leaving the room.”

“Whatever. I was just making sure Parker doesn’t steal anything.” Flash shot daggers at Peter as he got a drink from the refrigerator. You and Peter stood in silence until you were sure Flash was gone, sighing in relief when he disappeared.

“Do you think he knows?” You whispered to Peter out of the corner of your mouth.

“He doesn’t suspect a thing.” Peter shook his head before pulling you into a kiss.

This was how it continued for month. You posed as friends and dated in secret, never letting your brother know the truth.

“Guess who?” You felt hands cover your eyes from behind. You immediately recognized Peters voice and turned around in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” You looked at him with wide eyes. “Flash could walk in at any minute.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled. “Happy three month anniversary, princess.”

“Happy anniversary, lover.” You smiled back at him before pulling him into a long kiss. For once, you didn’t care if your brother walked in. All you cared about was Peter.

“I have something for you.” Peter smirked once he pulled away.

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.” You told him.

“Course I did.” He shrugged as he took a small box out of his pocket. “It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t get you anything.” You winked at him before disappearing into your closet. You returned with a large carton of Goldfish with a bright red bow on it.

“Goldfish!” He lit up. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did, lover. How could I forget the taste of your goldfish breath the first time I kissed you?” You teased him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Well you must’ve like it since you’ve come back for more everyday since.” He shot back before kissing you. “Open yours.”

You took the box from him and opened it up, finding a hand maid needed bracelet with a moon decal that looked like Peter had carved himself.

“The moon?” You looked up at him with a curious smile.

“It’s a waxing crescent. That’s what the moon looked like the night you kissed me. I have a matching one, see?” He held up his wrist to show you his bracelet. You stated at it for a moment before your eyes went back to his gift.

“Peter.” You mumbled without taking your eyes away from the bracelet.

“Do you like it?” He bit his lip as he waited for your reaction. You looked up at him with a grin before throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

“I love it.” You said into his ear. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” He smiled at you for a moment before getting serious. As he was looking at you, he realized he had never trusted someone more. Something came over him that made him want to give you every thing he had, including his deepest secret.

“I have to tell you something. No, I, I want to tell you something.” He corrected. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, actually. Um, this is so hard to say, wow.”

“It’s okay, Peter.” You put your hand in his face when you saw how flustered his was getting. “I love you too.”

Peter’s face drained of color at your confession as that was not at all what he was about to say.

“What?” He squeaked.

“I love you too.” You repeated, not understanding his confusion.

“That’s…that’s not what I was gonna say.” He blurted and your face fell.

“Oh.” You withdrew your arms from around his neck, feeling embarrassment and disappointment all at once. Peter realized his mistake and tried to pull you back.

“No, no.” Peter said quickly. “I was gonna tell you I’m Spider-Man.”

“What?” You nearly screamed.

“But I love you too! I love you so much.” He took your face in his hands and kissed you repeatedly.

“You’re Spider-Man?” You pushed him away long enough to ask.

“Yes. But more importantly, we’re in love!” He kissed you again. “Happy three months.”

“Happy three months.” You giggled between kisses.

You stood with Peter outside of school a few months later as you waited for Flash to come out.

“This is my least favorite part of the day.” Peter pouted as he rubbed your hand with his thumb.

“Why?” You tilted your head.

“I don’t get to see you anymore.” He looked at you with a shy smile. You smiled back at his cuteness and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Marching band ends at 4 right? How about I come over after that? We can do anything you want.” You suggested as you played with the collar of his shirt.

“Anything I want?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m feeling generous.” You shrugged. You were about to lean in to kiss him when you noticed your brother in the distance.

“Oh no.” You sighed and stepped back from Peter. “Don’t turn around.”

“Hey Penis Parker.” Flash jumped behind Peter and smacked his butt before looking at you. “Sup bitch.”

“Hi Flash.” You smiled tightly at him.

“What are you losers taking about?” He asked. “How you’re never gonna lose your virginities?”

You and Peter exchanged a knowing look and he turned his head to snort.

“We’re talking about how grabbing peoples butts without their permission is sexual harassment.” You spoke up to cover Peters laugh.

“Oh, really? That’s cool.” He smacked Peters butt again. “Are you ready to go? My car is on and she’s ready to purr.”

“God, I hate you.” You sighed. “I’ll see you later, Peter.”

“See you later. Bye.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, entirely forgetting that Flash was there. Your eyes widened as Peter was about to walk away, but Flash held his hand up to stop him.

“Hold up.” He looked at Peter. “What was that?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you, only realizing his mistake when he noticed your messed up lipstick. He let out a small gasp before looking at Flash, who was shaking with anger.

“Um…physical affection?” Peter said weakly. You slammed your palm against your forehead and let out a sigh.

“Thanks for the run down, Penis Parker.” Flash snapped. “You’re dating my sister?”

“Yeah, Flash.” You put a hand on Peters shoulder. “Peter and I are dating.”

“Excuse me a minute.” He held up and finger before bending down as if he was going to puke. “BLEH.”

You rolled your eyes as your brother continued to make puking sounds.

“I cannot stand this man.” You grumbled. Flash stopped for a moment and stood up, looking eerily composed.

“Y/n, could you give Peter and I a minute to ourselves, please?” He said through a tight smile.

“Um, are you gonna kill him?” You scratched your ear as you looked between your fearfully boyfriend and your suspiciously calm brother.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Flash said, never breaking his smile.

“Don’t go.” Peter looked at you in fear.

“You’ll be okay.” You decided. “I’ll be right over there.”

Flash waited until you walked away until he started interrogating Peter.

“How long had this been going on?” Flash started out.

“Seven months.” Peter told him.

“Is it serious?”

“I love her.” Peter smiled shyly.

“Gross.” Flash gagged. “Does she love you back?”

“Yes.” Peter nodded. “She tells me everyday.”

“So every time I drove into the slums of New York to drop her off at the cardboard box you call an apartment building, I was dropping her off at your place? I was hand delivering my sister to you?” Flash realized.

“Yes.” Peter repeated. “Are you mad?”

“You know what”,Flash let out a breath, “I’m okay.”

“You are?” Peters jaw dropped a little. He had been expecting a beating, or at least a wedgie.

“Yeah.” Flash put his hand on Peters shoulder and rubbed it. “She couldn’t be in better hands, Spiderman.”

He had whispered the last part, making all the blood drain from Peters face.

“How did you-“

“I eavesdrop on people constantly.” Flash cut him off. “I can’t stop. My therapist says it’s because I didn’t get enough attention as a kid, but what does that bitch know? I overheard her husband on the phone telling her that their kid bit somebody again. Again! I never did that. The moon bracelet was a nice touch, by the way. She really likes it.”

“You just told me way too much about you.” Peter blinked a few times as he processed what he just heard.

“Now we’re even.” Flash smirked and shot him a wink.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” He asked nervously.

“Course not. I would do anything for Spider-Man.” Flash stated firmly. “That secret is safe with me. I am, however, gonna tell everyone that you and her are dating.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s super embarrassing for her. Later, Parker.” He held out his hands for Peter to shake, pulling him in when their hands touched.

“Swing me around the city in your arms and I won’t kill you for dating my sister.” He whispered in Peters ear. Peter looked at him in fear as he walked away. You immediately ran up to Peter once your brother was gone and put a hand on his arm.

“What happened?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Peter told you. “I think I have a date with your brother.”

“You - huh?” You asked for clarification but Peter just shook his head.

“I don’t know.” He sighed in defeat. “I’ll text you after band practice.”

“Yeah I’ll-“ You were cut off by Flash honking his horn and calling your name.

“I’ll text you later.” You grumbled and shot a look at Flash.

“Okay.” Peter kissed you before you began to walk away. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You called over your shoulder as you made your way to Flash’s car. Upon hearing this, Flash just had to chime in.

“I love you too Penis Parker!”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

 @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113​ @fancyxparker​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterspideysstuff​ @reemusluupin​ @perspectiveparker​ @itsemohours​ @satanswitchings​ @okkulta​ @amorhollands​ @parkerlovebot​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @mati4188​ @geminiparkers​ @alwayssandy​

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 6: Let’s Play a Game (Overprotection)

Prev

AO3

Marinette ended up not staying for dinner. She talked to Bruce for a little bit, but he had to leave for some WE emergency and Marinette wasn’t really up to bonding with the boys- her brothers- yet. But that was fine. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get to know the man and wouldn’t be able to after this trip because she had to stay in Paris because of Hawkmoth. No, she wasn’t upset. Not at all. It didn’t hurt her feelings. Nope.

---

Walking into Madame Soleil's Wax Museum with Adrien by her side, Marinette is hit with a major wave of deja vu. And not a good deja vu. No, the memories of the last time she was in a wax museum with Adrien were awful, humiliating and- feeling a hand wrap around hers pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. Glancing down, Marinette tries (and fails) to hide her grin. Adrien is holding her hand. Adrien is holding her hand!

“Hey Marinette!” A familiar voice calls, a hand squeezing her shoulder, making Marinette squeal and whirl around.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” She asks, frowning at the boy- her brother- as he stands there with a huge smile.

“Well I heard that a new wax figure is being revealed today, and I thought I might come and see it.” He says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Really? Who?” Adrien asks. Dick’s smile twitches slightly as he glances at Marinette, making her frown. Was he seriously about to play the overprotective big brother card? Really?

“Jagged Stone.” Dick finally says, glancing at their entwined hands. Marinette tries hard not to roll her eyes. Come on, her crush is finally holding her hand and her brother (who she’s known for a day!) is seriously trying to ruin that for her?

“Oh cool! Do you think he’ll come to Gotham to see it, Mari?” Adrien asks.

“I think he’s definitely scheduled to make an appearance in Gotham in the next couple days. He’s picking up his new suit in person.” She whispers, grinning at the idea of seeing her “Uncle” in person again. He’d been touring for several months and she hadn’t been able to see him for awhile, just the occasional video call.

“So! What figures did you guys want to check out first?” Dick asks, wedging himself between the two and forcing Adrien to drop her hand. Glaring at her brother, Marinette scoffs when Dick just smiles innocently.

“The hall of heroes and villains sounds cool.” Adrien suggests, looking around Dick to see Marinette.

“Hmm. Okay, but if the Nightwing figure is in his disco costume, I reserve the right to melt the statue.” She says, frowning at the choked noise Dick makes. “Are you okay?” She adds.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. What’s 1so bad about that costume?” He asks, a hurt expression on his face.

“Have you even seen it? The only worse costume is Riddler’s.” Marinette says, adding a shudder for dramatic effect. Walking past the local celebrities room and the pop stars room, Marinette’s eyes widen as their small group walks into the hall of heroes and villains. Walking away from Dick and Adrien, she’s almost instantly drawn to the Batman figure. She reads the little plaque about the artist and frowns, turning to Dick who had moved to stand next to her.

“I thought it’d be taller.” She says, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion when Dick starts choking on air, gasping for breath as broken chuckles flood out of him. “Ookay then.” She mutters, turning and walking back towards the villains. Nightwing was, luckily, depicted in his most recent costume. As was Robin. Which meant the only real fashion tragedy (besides the god awful helmet Red Hood wore) was the Riddler. Pulling her sketchbook out, Marinette circles the wax figure, occasionally making notes and sketching out slight adjustments to the man’s costume.

“His costume might be terrible, but it’s still better than half of the akumas.” Adrien whispers, leaning over her shoulder. Marinette looks up at him, eyes wide as her face heats up with a blush.

“I, uh, um, yes. Yeah.” She says, trying not to wince at her lack of speaking skills. “I mean, at least we can rule out any fashion designer in Paris as Hawkmoth. Because if Hawkmoth was a designer, that’d almost be a bigger crime.” She adds, smiling as Adrien laughs.

“Good to know you’re not moonlighting as Hawkmoth, m’lady.” He says with a mock bow. Marinette snorts, then covers her mouth, embarrassment rushing over her. Adrien just shakes his head, wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

“In case you forgot, we’ve definitely seen each other at our most embarrassing.” He says, making her groan.

“Oh god, no. I tied us up with my yoyo!” She moans, turning and burying her face into his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Her face heats up more when she feels him chuckle and wrap his arms around her.

“I’ve always thought that was paw-sitively adorable.” He says, laughing when she groans again. She pulls away slightly, looking up at him with a timid smile. He smiles back, starts to lean forward and-

“Hey guys! I heard they’re about to unveil the Jagged Stone figure. Come on, let’s go! Don’t wanna miss it.” Dick says, grabbing each of their hands and pulling them towards the exist (and successfully separating them again). Marinette tries not to glare at Dick. She’s about to have one less brother.

---

Dick Grayson wasn’t used to having a little sister that he could protect. Sure, he had a little sister. Cas was awesome, but she could also kick his ass without breaking a sweat. No, he’d never had a little sister to protect. Someone he could watch out for and support. But now….now he has Marinette. And he’ll be damned if he lets some little punk take advantage of his little sister. Ignoring Marinette’s glare, he positions himself right between her and...the boy. He’d need to ask Timmy to do a background check on the kid later. Especially if he thought he was good enough for Marinette.

“So are you guys big Jagged fans?” He asks, trying to pull the two back into a conversation. He narrows his eyes at the smile the kid gives Marinette. It’s too...adoring. Too much. She’s only...what, fourteen? Much too young to date. Especially this kid.

“Mari’s a bit of a fan, I think. But, personally, I much prefer Jagged’s designer.” He says, and Dick turns to him, missing the way Marinette’s face turns bright red.

“Are you talking about MDC? I love them! Their work is amazing! And Jagged Stone says that he’ll never have another designer. I heard that there’s a possibility of them opening their commissions again. God, I hope they do. I’d do anything for something made by MDC.” Dick rambles with a wide smile, deciding to ignore the kid for a minute in order to ramble about his favorite designer. As the group walks into the pop star room, Dick steps back and glares at the kid. He’d stepped just behind Dick and was apparently trying to hold Marinette’s hand again. Not on his watch. No siree. No one’s gonna hurt his little sister.

---

Bruce sighs, running his hands through his hair. He’d been checking the street cameras in Paris, trying to figure out what time Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol so that he can set up a meeting. Try and offer help, or maybe even offer to take control of the situation. Anything to get rid of Hawkmoth. But instead, it was like the heroes didn’t exist. He’d read reports of the heroes patrolling before, so why were they so quiet this week? The only akuma from the past couple days wasn’t even taken care of by both of them. Ladybug did it alone, and seemed worse for the wear when she came out of the battle. Where was Chat Noir? And why did it seem as though they had gone into hiding?

---

Marinette was five seconds away from committing her first murder. Okay, probably her only murder, unless her other brothers decide to be as involved in her love life as Dick is. Because Dick won’t have the chance to be a problem for much longer. Because Marinette was honestly going to kill him. Right as she turned to finally yell at him, and tell him to knock it off, the lights flickered. She pauses her tirade, glancing to gauge Dick’s reaction to see if this is normal. And if his worried glances back at her are anything to go by, this is not normal.

“Let’s play a game! Solve my riddles and you all can leave freely, but make a mistake and someone will pay greatly! Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?” A man’s voice asks, Marinette frowning as the Riddler walks in, a wide smile on his face. Ten goons walk in behind him, all of them carrying guns. She was used to the akuma attacks almost every day, but didn’t Gotham’s rogues have anything better to do than attack every place her class went? With guns? Come on. Riddler smirks and points at Adrien with his cane.

“A match.” She blurts out, ignoring Dick frantically shaking his head. If nothing else, she should be able to work with Adrien to get everyone out. But she knew his style. And riddles weren’t really his thing.

“Oh goody. We have a volunteer. Tell me, what has to be broken before you can use it?” Riddler asks, stalking towards her. Thinking for a second, Marinette tries to suppress a smile.

“An egg.” She says. Riddler narrows his eyes.

“I have 13 hearts, but no lungs or stomach. What am I?” He asks, Marinette frowns, running through possible answers in her head.

“A deck of cards.” She finally says.

“Buzzy, come over here and hold onto our friend.” Riddler says, gesturing to one of the goons. The man comes over and grabs Marinette’s arm roughly, she winces. That’ll definitely bruise.

“I answered your riddles.” Marinette says, deciding that now's as good a time as any to start distracting the man.

“And how did you answer them so quickly?” He asks, the frustration clear on his face.

“What do you mean? Were they supposed to be hard?” Marinette taunts, ignoring the choked sound Dick makes behind her. She knew what she was doing. She did. She had to.

“Why you-” Riddler starts, stepping forward and pulling his hand back as if to hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette waits for the slap. The slap never comes. Opening her eyes, Marinette’s jaw drops when she sees the Riddler’s fist held tightly in Dick’s hand.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” He says lowly, a dark look on his face. Well that was unexpected. Riddler opens his mouth, probably to start spouting more riddles or other nonsense, when the goons blocking the exits drop. Noticing Red Robin and Red Hood picking off the other goons, Marinette throws her elbow back into the gut of the goon holding her. Not waiting for him to recover, Marinette stomps his foot and twists out of his grip. Grabbing his arm, Marinette manages to yank the man off balance and toss him to the ground. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump back and prepare to hit the person.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay ma’am.” The voice attached to the hand says. Marinette whirls around, ready to tell off the person, but immediately stops when she sees Red Robin.

“Sorry!” She yelps, jumping away from him. And she was too. She was determined to hit the person who grabbed her shoulder, so locked into battle mode, but she had managed to stop herself. Glancing around the room, Marinette notices Dick talking to Red Hood, his usual smile back on his face. That’s good. That’s normal, that’s right. The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm makes Marinette want to scream in frustration. Really, right now? It’s definitely already dark in Paris which means- Chat Noir. Ignoring everyone else, Marinette runs over to Adrien and grabs his hand.

“Akuma?” He asks, his voice low. She nods and tugs him towards the bathrooms, unaware of the eyes following them out.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[beneathstarryskies]

Hello! May I request a oneshot (modern au or everybody lives au pls) where Obito falls in love with reader? With the whole falling out of love w/ rin angst as well pls (I like Obito so much and I am hella jealous of Rin >:( )

Word Count: 1,517

Warnings: Angst, fluff, fem!reader

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this, and I was so tempted to make it smutty but alas I practiced self control.

The village is bathed in orange light as the sun sets over Konoha. Obito sits alone on the rooftop, his eyes trained on the stone-carved face of his former sensei. His memories of being on Team Minato play in his head.

The journey to redemption had been long and difficult. Obito expected to die helping Naruto save the world, coming to fully accept his fate. Things didn’t happen that way, instead, he found himself having to face living. It was a scenario he’d not planned for at all. Kakashi had pulled every string possible to be able to give Obito a second chance.

“It’s what Rin would’ve wanted,” Kakashi had told him.

Rin.

Obito sighs as he tries to focus on his breathing in an attempt to clear his thoughts. His attention is pulled away from the air filling his lungs when he hears your feet hitting the rooftop. He turns to you slowly, his chest blossoms with warmth when his eyes fall on your shy smile.

You’ve been gone for a couple of weeks now on a mission, and Obito felt a tugging in his chest the entire time you were gone. It’d taken him a while to realize it was because he missed you. Truthfully, it was that realization which brought him here. Trying to come to terms with what it all means. Of everyone in Konoha, you were the first to truly accept his presence. You reached out to make friends with him despite his initial insistence on keeping you at arm’s length. Little by little he felt himself warming up to you, eventually coming to crave your presence when you’re away on missions or too busy with your other duties to hang around much.

“I thought I might find you here,” you say quietly. “What’s on your mind Obito?”

“Nothing really,” he shrugs. “Just trying to clear my mind a bit.”

“Hm, me too,” you hum.

Obito smiles weakly, “How did your mission go?”

You shrug, “Boring.”

You lay your head on his shoulder and let out a small sigh. A thought was bursting forth in your brain. The words linger on your tongue, but the way Obito tenses at the closeness you’ve presented causes them to stay trapped there. You bring your head back up to study the stern eyes of the past Hokage staring back at you.

“I missed you,” Obito says finally.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” you smile.

Obito feels his cheeks grow warm. He turns his face away from you to hide the pink dusting across his cheeks. Obito is certain by now you’ve noticed how flustered gets around you but is grateful that you don’t feel the need to point it out. There are so many things he’s grateful for where you’re concerned he lost count long ago.

You lean back on your hands, your hair falling behind your shoulders.

“Hey, maybe since I’m gonna be home for a while we should find something fun to do,” you suggest with a bright smile.

His heart pounds in his chest, “Oh yeah?”

“I could use a trip to the hot springs,” you suggest. “Or maybe we could find a carnival or something.”

“You choose,” Obito smiles.

I’d follow you anywhere, he thinks to himself as he looks at your sweet face. He wants to say it but keeps the sentiment to himself.

~

“I don’t deserve to love again,” Obito says in a hoarse whisper as he stares at Rin’s headstone.

His fingers trace over her name as light as a feather. Tears sting his eyes as he feels so consumed with guilt. He’d been willing to burn the world down for a chance to be with Rin again, but now he finds those feelings fading each day as you make a home in his heart.

Rin is always watching, he keeps telling himself. How would she feel to know he’s fallen in love with someone else? Is she watching it happen while being so helpless to stop it?

He turns these questions over in his mind until he gets the feeling he’s being watched. His hand pulls away from her gravestone to look around the grounds, finally spotting Kakashi leaning against the gate.

“I heard you were visiting the hot springs,” Kakashi says as he begins to walk toward Obito.

“We’re supposed to leave tomorrow.”

“Good,” Kakashi nods. “That’ll be good for you.”

Obito furrows his eyebrows at his friend, “Why?”

“Because you and y/n are close,” Kakashi shrugs. “Maybe this will give you a chance to bond.”

Obito’s chest feels heavy at Kakashi’s words. Was it so obvious? He shoves his hands in his pockets, pulling his eyes away from Kakashi back to Rin’s memorial.

“I think Rin would be very happy for you,” Kakashi’s voice has fallen to a soft whisper.

“Maybe,” Obito sighs.

“She would be,” Kakashi persists. “All Rin ever wanted was for you to be happy, Obito. If this makes you happy, then she would be fully supportive.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

“Love is not about deserving it.”

“What do you know about love?” Obito spits back, not even understanding why Kakashi’s words bothered him so much.

Kakashi just shrugs, as unbothered as ever. Obito groans because he knows Kakashi is right.

~

“I hope you don’t mind that I booked us just one room,” you say as Obito sets his things down. “It’s all they had on such short notice. Plus side though, we have a private onsen!”

Obito smiles, “It’s fine. We can take turns.”

You giggle, “We don’t have to do that. I trust you not to be a pervert.”

Obito’s cheeks turn bright pink. His heart pounds in his chest. Truthfully he doesn’t know if you should trust him so much. He’d never do anything to hurt you, but he’s not sure if he could stop himself from at least looking at you. Even in your usual loose-fitting clothes, he finds you absolutely gorgeous. Seeing your soft skin would be very difficult to resist.

But also, he’s scared of you seeing him. He’s still a bit insecure about the scars on his face. Your eyes never linger on the scars too much, in fact on more than one occasion you’re pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as though they weren’t even there. He’s worried this may change once you see the way they’re stretched over half his body.

You unpack your things in the room despite wanting to just strip off and jump into the hot water. Obito isn’t as neat as you. His clothes get shoved into the drawer, but he lingers awkwardly in the room once he realizes there’s no other way to get around the main purpose of this trip.

“I’m gonna get in now,” you say quickly. Obito realizes you’ve also been trying to get around it.

“Maybe you should get in first,” he suggests. “So I can’t see anything?”

“Hm, or we can just undress at the same time? That way we just won’t worry about it anymore.”

Obito swallows hard, “Are you sure?”

You laugh despite the blush on your cheeks, “We might as well. I don’t want us to spend the whole trip trying to avoid nudity. We’re at a hot spring after all.”

“I just,” Obito looks down at the floor. “You know these scars aren’t just on my face and neck.”

Your lips tighten into a frown as you step forward. Obito’s eyes slowly trail to your sad face. He’s not sure what he expected, but to feel your arms wrap around him was not it. Your lips brush against his cheek before you look up at him.

“Obito, you fool,” you say as you stare into his eyes. “I don’t care about that at all.”

Tears prick his eyes, and a knot begins forming in his throat. He opens his mouth as it becomes harder to breathe. Your eyes are so filled with adoration it’s overwhelming.

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. I was gonna wait until dinner but I guess I should just say it now,” you take a shaky breath. “Obito, I think you’re gorgeous.”

He bites back the sobs threatening to escape him, “Really?”

You lay your head on his chest to hide your flushed face, “Of course. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I-”

“I love you!” Obito blurts out as his arms tighten around you.

You look up at him with tears filling your eyes, “Obito, I love you too. I was so worried you wouldn’t feel the same way I just-”

He steals your words with a clumsy kiss. His heart feels like it’s going to burst when you eagerly kiss him back. Your hands move to tangle in his hair, and you raise on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Obito breathes you in, wanting your affection to wash over him and erase all his insecurity. By the time you pull away, both of you struggle to catch your breaths.

As your hands trace over his cheeks with a small smile, Obito can’t believe his luck.

[marmosa]

you mean it?

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: i saw this concept done by someone else and it finally kicked my writing brain into gear and i couldn’t not write my own take on it (love potion shenanigans). my requests are currently open because i’ve been at a lack of my own ideas, so feel free to drop a request or two, i’ll be writing up a few of them! in the mean time, i hope you’re all doing well and as always i hope you enjoy <3

*** 

“How do I know you didn’t mess with my drink?”

Fred and George exchanged knowing glances, both unwilling to let on that they did, in fact, tamper with her drink.

“Look, I’m not one to be selective when handed free butterbeer, however if anything I would like to not have my hair dyed against my will again, however cool it may look,” [y/n] sighed, holding her drink up to the light to try and see if there truly was anything suspicious she could note within its contents.

“Would you just trust us?” Fred pleaded, clasping his hands together and shaking them like a child trying not to get grounded.

“Do we look like we’d ever hurt you?” George added, smiling innocently.

“Yes, yes you would,” [y/n] deadpanned, “like when Fred dropped me 50 feet off your broom and nearly missed me when he tried to catch me, or when you gave me food poisoning because the potion you put in my lunch was faulty, or the time that you both nearly killed me with a miscalculated firework, or-,”

“Okay we get it!” The twins groaned, Fred reaching forward to press his hand flat over her mouth to get her to be quiet.

“Just trust us on this one, okay?” George begged, squeezing her shoulder as she eyed the butterbeer unsurely once more.

“Fine, bottoms up lads, hope I don’t end up in the infirmary!” [y/n] cheered half-heartedly, shaking the bottle before downing it like a shot.

“So?” Fred asked, nearly jumping in his spot as the twin both eyed her excitedly.

“So what?” she repeated, scrunching her nose at the weird aftertaste in her mouth, “it was just a-,” her voice trailed out as her eyes zeroed in on Fred, her mouth suddenly running dry.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing! See, Fred, I told you we needed to add less Borage and more Belladonna!” George cursed, shuffling through his book bag for his notebook he kept for notes on these certain instances.

As the twins got lost in their tweaking of the potion, it completely slipped past them that [y/n] was quite literally going through an internal awakening, her mind spinning as she took in the boy before her.

Why was Fred so suddenly at the forefront of her mind? His strong facial features, soft swooping locks, lean and athletic build, all of it was flooding her brain and she felt like she was going to explode. She felt as if she could count every single freckle on his face is she wanted to. Her eyes trailed down to the empty bottle in her hand and it quickly clicked before the potion flooded over her inhibition and stole her capacity to think clearly.

“You’re cute,” she blurt out, her eyes widening in shock before sinking down comfortably, her face relaxing into one of pure adoration, “like really cute.”

The twins halted their discussion and slowly turned to her, their eyes ready to nearly pop out of their heads. They exchanged surprised and then excited glances, George immediately getting to editing his notes.

“[y/n], how do you feel?” Fred questioned, eyeing her up and down as she beamed up at him with a newfound sort of confidence.

“I’m doing fine, darling, why do you ask?” she replied, pressing her fingers against her temples as a surge of sense surged through her, “wait, what- what’s going on?”

“Did the potion work?” George asked, leaning forward to squint into her eyes which she leaned backwards to avoid, her eyes never tearing away from Fred’s who stood there rigid as can be.

“George, I think it worked just fine,” Fred muttered, pulling his brother back by his shoulder, “dosage was a bit off, but it worked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t mind, you have a lovely voice,” [y/n] lilted, tilting her head to the side as she took a step closer towards Fred.

“Oh shit, she-,”

“Saw me. Yup,” Fred finished George’s sentence, pulling his lips into a tight line.

“But it shouldn’t be a problem since you- OW!” George yelped when Fred pinched his arm, shaking his head in an unspoken “shut up”.

“Uh [y/n], I think we should take you up to your room, you look like you need a nap,” Fred chuckled uneasily, reaching forward but retracting his hand last minute when her eyes nearly popped out of her skull at the contact.

“But I don’t want to be away from you,” she pouted, sagging forward and slinging her arms around his neck, twirling the hairs at the nap of his neck around her pointer finger, “I’ll die without you Freddie.”

Fred chuckled and unwrapped her arms from his neck, pushing her back onto her own feet, “yeah, you most certainly need a nap. Let’s get you back to your dormitory and then we’ll talk about me leaving alright?”

“Sounds lovely,” she hummed, leaning into his side and hooking her arm with his.

“I’ll take care of taking her to keep down a fuss, you run and go see if you can make an antidote, though I hardly think we’ll need it since she keeps coming to on her own,” Fred explained, getting a curt nod from George who ran off to go fix something up.

“Did you know you have such pretty eyes?” [y/n] giggled, reaching forward and brushing his hair out of his face, “You’re even cuter when you blush too.”

Fred wanted nothing more than to go and swim to the very bottom of the black lake right then as he realized she’d picked up on the bright red hue dusting his cheeks, but he couldn’t leave her on her own, he knew that would cause a bigger fuss than any of them wanted.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, not used to being on the receiving end of such forward flirting, “lets get you to your dormitory.”

***

“But you can’t leave! Freddie, darling, please! I can’t be without you, I cannot!” [y/n] pleaded helplessly, clinging to his robes with balled fists.

“[y/n], you most certainly can be without me for a few moments,” Fred tried to sooth her distress, holding her up by her shoulders to keep her from sinking onto the floor.  

“I can’t! Freddie I’m in love with you, I simply cannot be apart from you, it’ll hurt too much,” she nearly cried, plopping down on the nearest bed, her eyes already watering over.

Fred chewed on the inside of his cheek, thoroughly embarrassed that he was partially responsible for putting her through this, “Look, hey, hey look at me, don’t cry please?”

She sniffled, looking up at him as he sat next to her, the comforter sinking down beneath them, “I can’t help but cry when you say you’re going to leave me!”

“I know, it’s hard, if I could take you with me, I would darling, trust me. But you know the dormitory rules, McGonagall would have my head on a stick,” Fred explained, reaching forward and brushing away the stray tear that rolled down her cheek.  

Her eyes widened a bit as she relished in the attention, her clouded mind basking in the sweet affection and reassurance he was giving her. She hummed quietly and leaned her head onto his shoulder, her head twinging as the effects of the potion wavered once more.

“Fred, where are we?”

“[y/n]! You’ve come back to?” Fred exclaimed, leaning back to observe her face scrunched in discomfort, confusion quickly overtaking him when her face laxed into bliss again.

“I’m- I’m fine now that you’re staying here with me,” she nodded, throwing herself over his lap, beaming up at him when he looked back at her all flustered, “you’re so pretty, did you know that?”

“I didn’t, no,” he chuckled awkwardly, tearing his gaze away from her love-sick eyes, his heart about ready to beat out of his chest.

“Well you are. You are oh so pretty, Freddie dear, a proper beauty if I ever did see one,” she sighed dreamily, walking her fingers up his chest to tap her finger gently at the tip of his nose.

He scrunched his nose at the feather light touch, pursing his lips disapprovingly when she giggled at his discomfort, “thank you, [y/n].”

“It’s my pleasure darling,” she chirped, fluttering her eyes shut, “I think you were right about me needing a nap.”

“I’m always right, [y/l/n],” he mused, leaning back on his arms to give her more room to get comfortable in his lap, “but if you’re tired you should get into bed, I don’t think you’d do well laying on my knees.”

“But they’re comfortable, I could lay here all day,” she hummed contentedly, folding her hands over her stomach, “I could spend all my time with you and never grow bored of your company.”

“You flatter me far too much,” He mumbled, glancing away again to try to hide the flaming red quickly overtaking his features.

“I don’t flatter you enough,” she replied simply, already starting to nod off, “but that’ll change. I love you so much, darling, I will flatter you for the rest of my days if it makes you happy.”

“That would indeed make me very happy,” Fred smiled softly, smoothing his hand over her cheek as she finally dozed off.

***

“Okay I think I’ve got something!”

Fred’s head snapped up from the book in his lap as George burst into the room, holding a small vile in his hand. Fred shushed him, nodding up from the floor to [y/n]’s sleeping figure behind him on the bed.

“Oh, sorry,” George whispered, “but I’ve got something fixed, I even got it doubled checked by a professor who promised not to tell.”

“Do you have a drink?” Fred asked, pushing himself off the floor to take the vile from his brother to inspect himself.

“No more butterbeer, unfortunately, but on my way here I nicked a small bottle of apple cider from the Hall, so that should do it,” George explained, pulling an almost shot glass out of his robes pocket.

“Brilliant, that should do it, I’ll wake her up,” Fred nodded, handing the potion back to his brother, and heading over to [y/n], “hey sleepy head, you gotta wake up.”

“Mmm,” [y/n] muttered, rolling over on her side as she opened her eyes soflty, “Freddie!”

He chuckled softly as she reached up towards him blindly, her eyes still shut as they readjusted to the sudden burst of light, her hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down towards her.

“Hey, careful there, don’t wanna break me in two, do you,” Fred laughed, [y/n] releasing him with a soft gasp as her eyes snapped open once more.

“I don’t want to snap you in half, that would be dastardly, darling,” she explained, obviously distraught at the insinuation of injuring him.

“Well, since you’re up, George here’s did you the favor of getting you something to drink, it’s apple cider, I remember you saying that you really liked it,” Fred smiled warmly, taking the drink from George who stepped back, amused at the awkward situation they were put in but endeared at his brother being so uncharacteristically soft.

“Well if you say it’s my favorite, it probably is, you’re too sweet to lie to me Fred,”  [y/n] grinned, swirling the drink around in its bottle, “would you like some?”

“No thank you, I’ve just about had enough to drink today, I think it’d do better if you had it all,” He nodded, “Besides if I want some I can always go get my own.”

“Good point darling, thank you for the drink,” she mused before downing its contents whole.

It didn’t take long to see the potion take effect as her face scrunched into one of disgust before smoothing out into one of confusion, “that tasted like shit what the bloody hell was that- wait, what happened?”

Fred and George both let out a simultaneous breath of relief, momentarily cheering amongst themselves as [y/n] stared up at them with a quizzical look.

“Well I suppose you deserve an explanation,” George muttered sheepishly, taking the empty shot glass from her hand and tossing it in the nearest bin.

“That would be nice, yes,” she frowned, rubbing at her temples as her skull pulsed, the potion finally washing out all the previous effects of the other potion, “I don’t remember much except for drinking the butterbeer- what the hell did you guys put in it.”

“Promise not to get mad?” Fred bat his eyelashes innocently, tilting his head to the side with clasped hands to emphasize the effect.

“I think we’ve gone far past that, but I guess so,” she grumbled, shifting so she was laying down to accommodate her now twinging headache.

“We might’ve, possibly, on accident, give you love potion,” George laughed uneasily, trying his best to diffuse the tension, knowing he was failing miserably.

“Well who was I fancying? Who did I make a fool of myself in front of?” she asked from under the arm she’d slung over her face to block out the light.

Fred chuckled awkwardly, pulling the inside of his cheek between his teeth. [y/n] lifted her arm and looked at Fred with wide eyes, her mouth falling open as the gears in her head rolled to a conclusion. George rolled onto the balls of his feet, shuffling towards the door as Fred and [y/n] got lost in their own world, slipping out of the room as soon as he could.

“No,” She groaned, “No!”

Fred sunk into himself as he watched her roll over and curl up into a ball, almost like a frightened pill bug. He wanted to escape the room just as George had done, he wanted to pretend this had never happened, he wanted to run and hide in his room until this entire prank had blown over. What made it worse was he didn’t think he was going to have to hear her verbal rejection of true feelings for him so soon.

“It wasn’t that bad if that makes you feel any better,” Fred muttered, shuffling over and sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Wasn’t bad- tch,” she sat up and stared at him with demanding eyes, “what did I even say? Wait, don’t tell me, it’ll just make me feel worse.”

[y/n] fell backwards again and pressed her palms into her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. She didn’t want to look at Fred, not even wanting to face him right now, she made a mental note to strangle George later for slipping away when she was so plainly swallowed in shock and humiliation. It was unfathomable that she was so outwardly love-sick to a boy who most certainly didn’t see her as anything other than a friend, and now she had to hear his rejection up front.

“It really wasn’t anything bad. If anything, it was just really forward flirting,” Fred tried to sooth her, still feeling guilty for the turmoil she was facing.  

“But it probably made you so uncomfortable and you probably had to babysit me while you were uncomfortable and now I’m gonna be so awkward about everything and you probably hate me,” she confessed, wanting nothing more than to just shrink into herself and forget she was there.

“I truly didn’t mind it at all, I actually found it sort of endearing, actually,” He mumbled, looking away to avoid any and all eye-contact.

“You didn’t?” she replied, taken aback that he wasn’t as disgusted as she’d thought he’d be.

“Not at all. It was the first time someone so outwardly flirted with me and it was kind of nice coming from you. You said I had pretty eyes,” He chuckled to himself, still staring holes into the floor.

[y/n] was speechless. Of all the horribly embarrassing things she probably did and said, that was the one thing he chose to relay to her. She wasn’t sure how to proceed after that, not being able to tell if he was simply being nice and recalling a gentle interaction or if he was truly being honest about his feelings.

“What else did I say?” She asked quietly, sitting up and scooting over so she was sitting somewhat next to him.

“You said you loved me,” He smiled softly, “and you did this,” he imitated her earlier actions, walking his fingers up from her collarbones to tap her nose with his finger, smiling when she scrunched her nose just as he had done.

“I did, didn’t I? Well,” she shrugged, offering him a smile of her own, boldly reaching forward and tucking his hair behind his ear, “that was a proper rubbish potion then. It’s suppose to make you say things you don’t mean, isn’t it?”

Fred nearly collapsed in on himself, a blissful grin pulling its way onto his lips, “You love me?”

“You’d think that was clear by now,” [y/n] giggled.

“I just wanted to make sure before I did this.”

“Did what?” she quipped, looking at him quizzically.

“This,” he reached forward and cupped her cheek, pulling her face to his and connecting their lips.

As soon as the initial shock factor fell away [y/n] was giving her entire self into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in as close as she could in their awkward positioning. Fred didn’t hesitate either, pouring all the pent up feelings he’d been hiding throughout the day into the kiss. It was over as quick as it had started, the both of them pulling away with the sweet smiles.

“I’m thinking we should spike your drinks more often,” Fred suggested cheekily, biting back a laugh when her face fell into a glare.

“If you even think of doing that again, I will not only never kiss you again, I will never speak to you again,” she snapped, “what happened to the Fred that was so sweet a little while ago.”

“Hey! I’m still sweet!” Fred scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest and pouting like a child who’d just gotten their toy taken away from them.

“Don’t think so,” she shrugged, scooting away from him until she was resting against the headboard.

“Don’t think so? Oh I’ll show you just how sweet I can be, come here,” he grinned mischievously, crawling over and dragging her down by her hips.

“Hey, careful there!” she squealed, bracing herself on his shoulders.

“You wanted me to be sweet? Careful what you wish for love, you just might get it,” he teased, leaning down and capturing her lips once more. 

[wavesmp3]

before sunrise

kevin moon x reader   - strangers to lovers au, fluff  - based off the movie before sunrise   - wc. 9.4k   - warnings: mentions of alcohol, lots of dialogue, cursing, and a few attempts at comedy

synopsis → You and Kevin Moon only have one night together before his flight leaves the next morning. And before meeting Kevin, you never would’ve believed that one night is long enough to fall in love with someone.

The train rattles on and on, a blur of colors painted beyond the small window you rest your head against. A headache is forming, between your ears and behind your eyes, a small thrumming that’ll make the rest of this train ride unbearable if you don’t end whatever’s causing it. Except you don’t know whether to blame the rattling train or the lovers' quarrel from the couple sitting across from you. 

You make another attempt to ignore the rattling and the arguing, holding your book closer to your face and starting the same paragraph you’ve been on since boarding the train. The effort does little to help on either account. You sigh, loudly, in the hopes that your annoyance stings the ears of the couple next to you. It does not. So you get up, gather your things, and move further down the car. 

You settle into a new seat, the couple’s argument still audible but less intruding than it had been when you were sitting right beside them. You open your book to restart the same paragraph when someone interrupts you. Again. 

“Hey, do you have any idea what those two are fighting about?” 

You look up from between the pages, lifting your eyes to meet those of the person who spoke to you without lowering the book itself. You stare at him, taken aback almost, by asymmetry of the smile he’s directed towards you and how charmed you are by it. You swallow. 

“Oh, sorry,” his body caves inwards, scratching a spot behind his neck, “do you speak English?”

You nod, too eagerly. “Yeah, no, I speak English. Just no clue what they’re arguing about.” You lower the book, folding in the page you’ve yet to move on from and leaning forward in your seat, just enough to catch sight of the couple whose voices get louder with each passing moment. “My German is not very good.”

“Ah,” the boy mutters, his pitch-black hair falling in front of his eyes, “that’s what that is.” He turns back to you, looks at you expectantly almost, then awkwardly laughs sitting back in his chair. He gestures to your book. “I’ll let you get back to it. Sorry to bother.”

And you’re about to tell him it’s fine, that you don’t mind the small talk, when you notice the book laying in his lap and the finger he has shoved between the pages to mark his spot. And the words sort of fall back down your throat once you do. 

You return to your book, not even bothering to start the paragraph for what feels like the thousandth time. Instead, you stare at the printed page, passively listening to the heated German flying between the couple and thinking about the boy sitting across the aisle from you. 

The couple stands up suddenly, dramatic enough to make half the car look up at them. One of them makes their way down the aisle in your direction, walking hurriedly and shrugging off the hand their partner places on their arm, as if they could not get way fast enough. You look towards the boy across from you with a raised brow. He makes a face at you, lifting his shoulders and shaking his head. You bite back a laugh, eyes following the couple as they exit the car. The sliding door opens with a whoosh and closes, their absence swallowing the car in silence.  

“What are you reading?” The guy asks, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. 

You hold up the cover of your book for him to see. “You?” 

He looks down at his lap, pursing his lips and chuckling a bit, hesitating, as if he wasn’t expecting you to return the question. He holds up the book. 

“Series of unfortunate events?” You murmur, recognizing the cover. 

“In my defense, I’m rereading it.” 

“No judgement.” You tell him, lifting up your hands in surrender. “I read it when I was young as well.” 

“It’s a good series, right?” You nod. “Thank you.” He huffs, resting his back against the train seat. 

“Although, I’m not sure if it’s good enough to reread. Not sure I get why people reread anything, actually. I mean there are so many books out there, why bother rereading one you’ve already read?” 

He shrugs at that, tilting his head and gaze fixed on the book. “Nostalgia, I guess.” 

You accept the answer with a nod. The couple returns then, and the clamor of their argument returns with them. You both watch as they pass by your seats. 

“Hey,” the guy begins again, sitting up in his seat and shifting his body until he’s in the aisle seat instead of the one by the window, “I was thinking of going to the lounge car. Would you wanna come with?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You lean towards him. “Why not?”

— 

“I’m Kevin Moon by the way.” He says once you’re both seated, extending his hand. You take it; give him your name. And there’s a draft that runs through the lounge car when he repeats it to himself. “So are you coming from Copenhagen too?” 

“Yeah, I was visiting some family there?” 

He nods. “And how are they?” 

You laugh, giggle really, awkwardly despite the faux intimacy of his question. Nodding, you answer: “They’re great. Well—great is a bit much. Content, perhaps?” 

“Content sounds good.” 

“So where are you getting off?” 

“Amsterdam.” 

“What’s in Amsterdam?” 

“No clue.” You laugh at the response, or maybe it’s at the quirk of his brow and the nervous tapping against his knee. “I have a flight out of there tomorrow morning. So I was thinking I’d explore the city some, attempt to experience all of Amsterdam in one night.” 

“Yeah, and where are you flying to?” 

“Back home.”

“Let me guess,” you start, a teasing lilt in your voice, “America?” 

“Canada, actually.” He proudly corrects. “Where are you from?” 

“All over.” You gesture around vaguely. “Moved around a lot growing up. And now I’m in Paris.” 

“Is that where you’re getting off?” He asks, leaning forward. You nod. “Why Paris?” 

“University.” 

“Oh,” he looks shocked, “which one?” 

“Would you even know it if I said?” 

His mouth parts, eyes darting around somewhere above your head. “Yeah, probably not.” 

“What about you?” You ask once your laughter has died down. “Still in school?” 

He’s quick to shake his head. “Gosh, no. School was never really for me.”

“Why not?” 

“I-“ he falters, tilting his head back at the question, “well, why are you still in school?” 

“No real reason.” You plan to leave it at that, but when you look up at him, keenly waiting for you to continue, some part of you wants to elaborate on it as well. “Sort of like I’m not sure what I’d do with myself once I finish.” 

“I feel that.” 

“You feel that?” You echo, a laugh dancing under the question. 

“Yeah.” He answers sincerely, eyes fixated on you and surprisingly serious. “I do.” 

“Oh,” you blurt, taken aback by how genuinely he means it.

The waiter appears then, handing you menus and taking your orders after. 

“So of all the places you’ve lived, which one felt the most like home?” 

You think over the question, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek. “Maybe Copenhagen. I have the most family there.” You add as a half-hearted explanation. “But I don’t know, I guess no place has felt much like home yet.” 

“Not even Paris?” 

You shake your head. “There’s this quote that goes: what is a home if not the first place you learn to run from.”

“So is that what Paris is?” He asks, resting his head against his hand. “The place you ran to?” 

You shrug. “Something like that.” 

There’s a beat of silence, somehow you spend the entirety of it starting at Kevin. “You seem to be very well read.” He says finally, looking away first and folding a napkin over his lap. 

“It’s just one quote.” 

“One more than me.”  

“Maybe if you stopped rereading ‘the series of unfortunate events’, we’d be on even footing.” 

He gasps. “You said ‘no judgement’.” 

“It’s called being polite.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “So how about you? Were you just visiting Copenhagen, or…?” 

“No, I’ve done the whole tour. Started in Madrid, hit Paris, Rome, Vienna, Budapest, Berlin, London, Athens, Prague, Florence, Lisbon… you know, all the big ones.” 

“I hope not in that order.” 

He laughs brightly. “No, not in that order. Thanks for the vote of confidence though.” 

“Of course.” 

“But, yeah, I bought the Eurail Pass a while back and decided I would see as much as I could.” 

“How long have you been here?” 

“About a month and a half now.” 

“Wow. And just for a holiday or?” 

“Yeah, well,” his face turns down, a cloud passing across the sun and casting a shadow over the table, “I had a friend in Madrid, but, uh, mainly—yeah, mainly vacation.” 

You don’t prod any further, nodding at his half-baked answer. 

“But what I’ve come to realize,” he continues on, “during these past few weeks, is that there’s something special about just sitting on a train and staring out the window.” 

“What’s special about it?” 

“For starters,” he gestures to the rolling green hills outside the window, “it’s beautiful. But also, I get these ideas while sitting here.” 

“What sorts of ideas?” 

“Like,” he hesitates, leaning back towards you, “well it’s gonna sound dumb to say outloud.” 

You watch him carefully. The asymmetrical smile that you first noticed appearing on his lips again. And maybe that’s what makes you lean towards him and say, 

“Try me.” 

— 

“Hey,” you push away your now empty plate and tap on the window as the train rolls to a stop, “isn’t this Amsterdam?” 

“Oh yeah,” Kevin checks his watch, “it is. I guess I lost track of time sitting here.” You check the time yourself and realize it’s been over two hours.

“Well for what it’s worth, I really enjoyed talking with you,” you tell him, shifting in the seat. 

He returns the sentiment, and you both continue to go back and forth until the train does actually stop, a loud whistle traveling through the lounge car.  

“Well, this is me.” He says softly, sucking in his bottom lip. 

You extend out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Kevin Moon.”

He shakes it. “Nice to meet you too.”

You watch him go, lugging a duffle bag by his hip and pulling a pink beanie over his hair. And once the door to the lounge car closes swiftly behind him, you slump into the chair resting your head against the window and scanning the group of people on the platform outside of it. Maybe, you think to yourself, I’ll catch him leaving.

“Okay, I have a crazy idea.”

You jump at the sound of his breathless voice, jolting up in your seat. “Kevin, what are yo—”

“Blow off Paris for one more night.”

“What?”

“Just—like I know this is crazy—but just listen for a second.” He tosses his duffle bag into the seat that was occupied by him a minute ago and places both his hands on the table, leaning down slightly. An action that leaves no room for you to think he’s joking. “My flight only leaves tomorrow morning, and I was planning on wasting time in Amsterdam until then. So come with me, let’s hang out for the night, and you can catch the first train back to Paris. I haven’t had a conversation like the one we just had in so long, and I don’t really want to say bye yet. So, let’s just see where this goes. And if it sucks or if you realize you hate me, then you leave, and we part ways just like that. No strings, no obligations.” He pauses there, chewing on his bottom lip and fingers curling around the edge of the table.

And for some reason, after his whole speech, you find yourself thinking about the arguing couple from the other car.

You grab your things. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Come on,” a grin fights its way onto your face, excitement teetering in every part of your body, “let’s go.”

And some small of part of you that’s hanging onto reason knows this is a terrible idea, a reckless and stupid idea that you would chide the protagonist of a horror movie for. But another part of you, the same part that can’t get over Kevin’s asymmetrical smile and the same part that said yes when he asked if you wanted to go to the lounge car, is too enthralled with the idea of continuing whatever this is to say no.

So this time when Kevin leaves, you don’t watch him go; instead, you follow him off of the train.

—

You’ve been to Amsterdam before, once on a holiday with your family that you can barely remember and again on a school trip when you were much younger. But despite the two times you’ve been to this city, walking beside the street and admiring the brightly painted buildings with Kevin feels like a first.  

And after seven minutes of mindlessly walking around Amsterdam with a complete stranger, the reality of your earlier choice strikes you like a burst of wind across the cheek. The exhilaration that compelled you to get off the train withering away with each step. Not a word has passed between either of you since agreeing to Kevin’s plan.

“This is,” you start, voice hoarse and hiding a shy laugh behind your palm. “This is weird.”

“No, yeah, it’s awkward, right?” Kevin smiles, scratching a part of his neck. “Do you…” he shoves his fists into the pockets of his coat, “do you regret getting off the train with me?” He laughs after he asks the question, as if he’s embarrassed to even bring it up.

“No,” you tell him honestly, scuffing your shoes against the pavement and avoiding looking at him. “Not yet.”

In a corner of your vision, you see him nod, then smile. The asymmetrical one that first caught your attention. And in that moment, a tiny spark of exhilaration returns.

—

You and Kevin find yourselves in an art museum. The first activity you could find to fill in all the awkward silences. You take turns acting as guides explaining the curation of each piece of art. A suggestion that you had made and then come to regret when Kevin tries to argue that a modern sculpture of sunflowers is actually just the Shrek movies reimagined.

“And see that part,” he says animatedly, pointing at a corner of the piece, “is actually depicting that once scene in the beginning of Shrek 2 when—”

You just laugh, shoving his arm playfully and wandering on to the next piece.

“Hey,” Kevin calls from further along the wall, “come look at this one.”

“So, what is this one about?” You tease, meeting him beside the art piece. “Ice Age or Monsters Inc?”

“No bullshit explanation this time, actually.” He mumbles, eyes trained on the art still. “I really like this one.”

You take a moment to study the painting, done by an impressionist artist according to the blurb beside it. The piece depicts a whole bunch of couples dancing on a street.

“I like how the background is all a blur.” Kevin says. “As if each of the couples are so occupied with themselves that everything else sort of fades.”

“I think my favorite part,” you start, taking a step towards the painting, “is how the girl in this pair and the guy in this one are painted like their fading. Makes me feel like they aren’t real; like they’re a dream or a memory.”

“Or a ghost.” 

“Yeah,” you smile at the thought, “or a ghost.”

Kevin leans down to read about the piece. “It’s called ‘Lovers Embrace’” 

“I like it.” You declare, thinking over how fitting the title is.

He straightens back up, smiling. “Me too.”

—

The art museum is effective in easing the awkwardness between you and Kevin, acting as a distraction from the insanity of the current circumstances and your belated recognition of it, so that now, while meandering about a record shop he found, conversation flows as easily as it did in the lounge car. And when you realize that, another bit of your exhilaration returns, bursting within your chest and fluttering against your gut.

“I have an idea.” Kevin announces as you finger through a section of records.

“Another one?” You deadpan. 

He flicks your arm, continuing, “We both pick a record to listen to. And then a random, third one for good measure.”

“How are we picking the third one?”

He hums in thought, drumming his fingers against the shelf. “Okay, I got it. Close your eyes.”

You point a finger at yourself. “Me?”

He squints at you, dramatically looking side to side and bringing the emptiness of this portion of the store to your attention. “Who else?”

“Fine but--”

“Just close them.”

With a long sigh, you do.

“Okay,” Kevin murmurs, spinning you around by the shoulders. He jerks you to a stop. “Now choose a record.” You push your hand out, feeling around for the nearest rack of records. “No, that’s boring.” He complains. “You have to walk around a little bit.”

“You know, we could’ve avoided this if you just chose the random record instead of me.” You huff at him, slowly walking around with your eyes still closed as per Kevin’s request.

“Watch out,” he warns, ignoring your comment, “you’re about to hit a stand.”

Eventually, you walk far enough from the place you started at. Blindly reaching out to the rack, you chose a record that feels the most worn around the edges. You open your eyes, blinking, and are about to read the cover when Kevin stops you suggesting you both wait until you’re in the listening booth. You agree, parting ways to pick your own record to listen to.

After a few minutes of browsing the store, you meet with Kevin outside of the listening booth, two records under your arm.

“Play yours first.” Kevin says, stepping into the booth with you. You pull the record out of its sleeve and place it in position. 

Moon river, wider than a mile

“Ah,” he sighs, as the song begins to play, “I love this song.”

I’m crossing you in style someday

You swallow back a smile and mutter a small ‘me too’.

Wherever you’re going, I’m going your way. Two drifters off to see the world

“Kind of fitting, isn’t it?” He asks, laughing lightly and knocking his head back against the wall of the booth.

“Part of the reason I chose it.” You explain, turning your head towards him just in time to catch his eyes fluttering shut. An action that sends a familiar burst of exhilaration running heavily over your chest. He looks at peace like this, you think, his gold frames resting on the middle of his nose and a tuft of black hair slipping out from under his beanie. It’s only when the song ends, the repeated skipping of the needle replacing Sinatra’s voice, do you realize you’ve spent the entirety of it staring at Kevin. His eyes snap open at that moment; you’re quick to look away, busying yourself with the drawstring of your bag and ignoring the warmth that fills your body.

Kevin removes your record and fixes the one he chose in place. The song starts on a familiar chord. 

Kelly, can you handle this?

You shoot him a look, just barely holding your laughter in.

“I know. Totally different vibe from ‘Moon River’ but this is the only Beyoncé song I could find.”

I don’t think they can handle this.

You start singing along. Kevin joins, dancing along as well despite how small the booth is. And when he starts twerking, you spend the last two minutes of the song laughing in shock.

The song ends, after Kevin declares his love for Beyoncé. You hand the Destiny’s Child record back to Kevin and pull the final, random record out of its sleeve and set it in place.

“How’s your Italian?” Kevin asks, as you straighten back up waiting for the song to play.

“No better than my German. Why?” He flips the vinyl’s cover around to show you. “Il Mondo by Jimmy Fontana,” you mutter as the first note rings throughout the booth. 

No stanotte amore non ho più pensato a te

Kevin finds the translation online, scooting closer until the side of his arm is pressed against yours, phone tilted so that you can see. You lean in to better read the lyrics.

Gira, il mondo gira, nello spazio senza fine Turning, the world’s turning, in a space without end

Your eyes catch Kevin’s for the briefest of moments before he looks away, quickly refocusing his gaze on the opposite side of the booth.

Con gli amori appena nati, con gli amori già finiti With the lovers just now starting, with the lovers already parting

You don’t return to the lyrics, instead watching as his focus ping pongs between the phone screen and the wall.

Con la gioia e col dolore della gente come me With the joy and with the hurt of the people like me

His eyes flit over to your face. You look down, pretending to read the lyrics, swallowing.

Il mondo The world

And from a corner of your vision, you can see him watching you, can feel his eyes on you. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore how good it feels to know he’s staring. 

Soltanto adesso io ti guardo, nel tuo silenzio io mi perdo Just now I see you, in your silence I lose myself

There’s a jerk of movement from Kevin. But the second you angle your head towards him, he tilts his chin up, smiling at the ceiling and tongue running over his teeth. You stare at him and consider for a moment: tearing your eyes off him, turning your head down again, and pretending to read the lyrics. But as quickly as the thought comes, it passes. And you find it impossible to care that he knows you’re staring, figuring that it’d be just as impossible to make yourself look away.

E sono niente accanto a te I am nothing beside you

His chin falls at the line, dark brown eyes dancing around the room before landing on yours. And this time, you don’t look away. There’s a sharp inhale. A loud gulp. The slightest turn of your body and an even smaller glance at the curve of his lips. His fingers flex, knocking against your knuckles, lingering for too long to be accidental. And it’s like time stops at that moment, like all the clocks in the world cease to tick, making you and Kevin halt as well, standing still, unmoving, staring at each other as if you hadn’t spent the past minute avoiding each other’s eyes. 

And you swear, if the music hadn’t stopped, the scratching needle cutting into the air, you would’ve fell in love with Kevin right then. 

—

“A piano,” you point out as you and Kevin are about to leave from the record shop. You go to it, admiring the dark brown wood and fingers ghosting over the ivory keys.

“Do you know how to play?” Kevin joins you in the corner of the shop that houses the piano.

“Gosh, no.” You pause, your middle finger hovering over a black key and tilt your head towards him. “Do you?”

He nods, taking a seat on the bench and patting the spot beside him for you. He starts playing a song you don’t recognize but one that manages to sound vaguely familiar anyways. Like it was playing in the background of a movie you can no longer remember the name of, or like you met the song in a dream and memorized the melody in your sleep before waking up the next morning.

And maybe it’s because you know this song without having ever heard it before or maybe it’s because the chords have been sitting in your soul every night since that forgotten dream but something about the song and something about this moment, makes you scoot closer to Kevin and rest your head against his shoulder.

He stops, barely, for the tiniest of seconds, fingers hesitating above the next key, then continues a breath later. And sometime between the end of this song and the start of the next, you feel his head lean back against yours.

—

You and Kevin decide to get dinner after leaving the record shop, choosing the first place you can find to fill your empty stomachs.

“Let’s ask each other some questions.” You suggest while you’re waiting for the food to come out. “One to help us get to know each other better, and we have to answer one hundred percent honestly.” 

“Okay,” he nods, “I’ll start. Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Gold.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Up.”

“Howl’s Moving Castle.” 

You both continue like that asking each other for even more favorites: favorite food, favorite show, favorite holiday, favorite city. Vancouver, Kevin had answered to which you scoffed complaining that choosing his hometown is cheating. He only shrugged. You move onto firsts after: first phone, first kiss, first childhood memory, first job, first celebrity crush. 

“You’re turn to ask.” You remind, hoping to quickly move on after confessing your childhood obsession with Chad Michael Murray. 

“Okay,” Kevin hums, contemplating a new question and twirling his drink around, “how about… first love?” 

“Oh, uh,” you scratch a spot on the table, “I’m not really sure I’ve ever been in love.” You pause there, expecting Kevin to say something. He does not. “Like I’ve dated before,” you sputter out quickly, filling in the empty space left by his nonexistent reply, “seriously, too. But I don’t think it was ever actually love.” 

His mouth parts, chest inflates slightly, as if the words need a minute to boil in the back of his throat. They must never come, you think when his mouth closes and his chest deflates, lips tightly shut. A silence crashes over the table, awkwardly taut. 

“What about you?” You return the question, cutting through the silence with what you hope is nonchalance. 

“Oh, me,” he chuckles sheepishly, “probably freshman year band. I fell so hard for this oboe player.” You give him a look at the confession, sucking in your bottom lip and biting back a laugh. His face twists with confusion. “What?” 

“I just can’t believe I got off a train with a band geek.” 

“Hey,” he defends, “better than a serial killer.” 

You shrug. “Not by much.” 

— 

It was Kevin’s idea to rent a boat to ride along the canal in. “The little foot pedaling ones,” he had requested, pointing them out. Luckily, you were able to find one before they shut down for the day. And the late timing of your activity made for a picturesque backdrop, the sun beginning to set as you drift along the canal, the sky immersed in varying hues of pink, yellow, and blue. Kevin had paused pedaling for a second to take a picture of the sunset which was fine until one picture turned into fifty. 

“You know when you said you wanted to boat along the canal I sort assumed you were gonna help me pedal.” 

“Last one.” He mumbles, the small shutter of his phone camera clicking before he shoves it back in his pocket and resumes pedaling with you. “More favorites?” He offers when the silence lingers for a little too long. 

“Please, no. I know way too much about you now.” He laughs at that. “New topic.” 

“Do you ever think about dying?” 

You whip your head towards him. “Morbid much?” 

“Yeah, I know, but seriously.” He says, brows lifted to further prove the sincerity of his question. “Do you?” 

You turn back to the front. “I mean I’m alive, so yeah, sometimes. You?” 

“Probably think about it too much if I’m being honest.” And there’s something that sounds distinctly like exhaustion in the way he says it. 

“Would you rather know how you die or when you die?” You ask suddenly. 

His answer comes just as quick. “When. Definitely when.” 

“Why?” 

“I feel like if I were to be told how I die, I’d spend the rest of my life avoiding it or trying to stop it. But there isn’t anything I can do to avoid the passing of time.” 

“Profound.” You mutter, unable to figure out if you’re surprised or shocked by how well-thought his answer sounds. 

“I told you,” he says, with a breathy laugh, “I think about death too much.” 

“What about a goal in life?” 

“What about it?” 

“Have one?” 

He considers the question, eyes trained on the water rippling in front of him. “To make a difference in someone’s life maybe.” He shrugs. “To be happy. I don’t know.” 

“Being happy used to be mine too.”

He frowns. “Used to?” 

“I used to be obsessed with this idea of happiness,” you tell him, nodding, “used to spend all my time avoiding whatever made me sad. But whenever I chased happiness, I was also the most dissatisfied with my life.” You stop for a second, check Kevin’s reaction, and find a frown still imprinted on his face. “I kinda see it like clouds now. They’re pretty from afar, but when they’re up close, we call it fog. Even when happiness was placed right in front of me, it never felt like enough. Most days, I’m still teaching myself that happiness is not a permanent state of being; it’s an emotion, and it comes and goes like the rest of them.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Silently pedaling the boat along the canal. Then finally— 

“Damn, who’s the profound one now.” 

—

You and Kevin find yourself on a bridge that overlooks the canal after renting the foot pedaling boat. The sun is barely visible, taking its last dip in the horizon before disappearing altogether. You hold out your hand to hover in one of the last golden rays of light, shivering at the warmth. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

“Running out of time for what?” 

“To experience life.” Kevin further explains, with a heavy exhale. “I feel like there’s this sick pressure and expectation created by romanticized coming-of-age movies that my youth is supposed to be the best years of my life. Like I should be living every second of it to the fullest. And then I end up spending all my time wondering how I’m going to live up to my youth instead of actually living it.”

“So, is that why you did it?” You pull your hand back in, tucking it under your chin. “Did you ask me to get off the train with you so that in ten years you can look back and feel like you made something of your youth, like you didn’t waste it.”

And something about the bluntness of your question must spread through the air and tug at the end of his lip. “Well, that’s a harsh way to put it, but,” he frowns, inhaling mid-sentence, “I don’t know. Maybe—yea, maybe it was part of the reason.” He pivots around, back pressed to the railing, elbows propped on the ledge, and face turned away from the last sliver of setting sun. You study his face: the point of his chin, slope of his nose, and high set of his cheekbones. He’s pretty. Too pretty, even. A realization that lands as heavily in the pit of your stomach as it did the first time you noticed on the train. And perhaps it’s just that: a realization. Or perhaps, more terrifyingly, it’s something closer to attraction. “Well, why’d you do it?” Kevin asks, turning his head slightly and catching you watching him, something you’ve both done too many times at this point to keep count of. “Why’d you get off the train with me?”

You swallow. “I thought about that couple from the first car. When you asked me to come with you, I thought of that arguing couple and saw my future flash before my eyes. I felt like I could see myself fifteen years from now. Could see myself falling in love, getting married, and somewhere along the way falling out. I could see myself sitting and fighting in the middle of a train. And a part of me just knew, that if I didn’t go with you, if I stayed on that train and continued to Paris, I’d spent the rest of my life regretting it, wondering what could’ve happened.”

You turn away from the sinking sun, swivel your head around to face Kevin again and find him differently than you had left him. Head tilted and biting at the inside of his cheek. Side pressed against the bridge’s railing so that he’s facing you directly. You straighten up, position yourself to face him as well, another asymmetrical smile growing on his face while you do.

“I’m really glad you decided to get off the train with me.”

You step closer, and when your hand knocks against his, he catches it, fingers curling around yours. “Me too.”

“Although, I do hope that if you’re married in fifteen years, it’s happily and that you’re one of those sickeningly in love with each other couple that everyone hates.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, watching your intertwined hands with a shy smile instead. And it’s somehow, oddly intimate when he squeezes your palm while wishing you a successful, hypothetical marriage. You feel suddenly breathless, and more prominently, fearless.

“I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes snap towards yours, pupils dilated and darker than normal. He doesn’t say anything.

You know he heard you, know—slightly less confidently—that he wants to kiss you as much as you want to be kissed. So you step towards him again, tugging at the end of his sleeve.

“Kevin.”

His gaze drops to your lips. “Yea.”

“Kiss me.”

And rationally, you know soulmates don’t exist. But there’s something about the way his lips fit perfectly against yours that almost makes you reconsider the belief.

—

“You know when I suggested we play pool, I really wasn’t expecting to have my ass handed to me like this.” He groans, staring at the five of his balls still left on the table.

“Next time suggest darts.” You tell him, voice raised to be heard over the loud pub.

You put the pool sticks back and seat yourselves at one of the empty tables.

“Okay, I have a question,” he says, leaning forward against the small booth table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Definitely not.”

“Really?” He sounds surprised.

“You do?”

“Well…” he hesitates, tongue darting out between his lips, “I don’t know if I believe it but I also don’t not know that I do.”

Your face contorts at his wording. “I don’t think—”

“Okay, yes, I know, but like have you never fallen just a little bit in love with a complete stranger?” You shake your head slowly. “Like you’ve never had a barista compliment your jacket or your eyes once and then spent the next week thinking about them?”

You place a hand to your heart. “I genuinely had no idea this was a common occurrence.”

“You know what, no, I take it back, never mind,” he quickly says, the tips of his ears turning red and hand waving in the air to dismiss the thought. “New topic.”

A breathy laugh escapes from between your lips. “Alright, new topic,” you hum, nodding your head along to the music playing in the background, “do you believe in soulmates?”

He smiles at the question. “Yes and no.”

“Explain.”

“The term ‘soulmate’ has this implication that love will fall into place between two individuals, that they won’t have to work for it, and that it was chosen for them instead of by them. But isn’t it so much more special to look at someone and decide to love them specifically. Decide to love them on purpose. But more than that, the general idea of a ‘soulmate’ relies too heavily on the understanding of love as a feeling. And it’s as you said before about happiness: emotions come and go, and feelings fade. I imagine, more accurately, that love is a choice as much as it’s a feeling, one that you have to get up and make every single day. So yeah, I believe soulmates are real, but I don’t think they’re found; I think they’re made.”

And after his whole spiel, the only thing ringing throughout your head is: holy shit.

He looks up at you, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he starts timidly, voice suddenly lacking the immense clarity it held just a second ago, “what do you think?”

“I think,” you swallow, a lame attempt to digest everything he just said, “that I’ll never look at love the same again.” 

—

By the time you and Kevin leave from the pub, it’s completely dark out. Streetlamps now lit up and the roads less crowded with only a few whispering groups around each corner. You walk mindlessly around the city’s twisted streets, deciding when and where to turn on whims. And somewhere along the way, while you’re making a comment abput the closed antique store, Kevin’s hand finds its way into yours. You squeeze his palm, a silent affirmation, when he does.

“Wait,” you exclaim, halting suddenly in the square that you and Kevin have stumbled upon, “I think I’ve been here before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, dragging him towards the fountain in the center, “I came here with my family once. I remember seeing this fountain and wanting to throw a coin in.”

“I mean are you sure? Fountains are pretty common.”

You shove his arm. “I swear this is the same one.”

“Here,” he mutters, reaching into his pocket, fishing out two coins, and placing one in your palm. “make a wish now.”

You hold the coin to your lips, closing your eyes while conjuring a wish and then toss the coin in the fountain. Kevin tosses his in a second after you.

“Hey, look,” you take a seat on the ledge of the fountain, pointing at the church across the square, “there was a wedding there today.”

“You know, I learned in school, I think, about Quakers, and,” he starts, sitting down beside you on the ledge, “they have the most interesting weddings.”

“What makes it so interesting?”

“Well for one, there’s no officiant. No handing off of anyone. What’ll happen is the couple walks in, stands in front of the entire congregation, and just stares. And it’s silent too, no one speaks unless they feel compelled to do so. Then after an hour or so, that it; they’re married. Just like that.” 

You turn on the ledge to face him. “Okay let’s try it.” 

His eyebrows waggle. “Getting married?” 

You look at him unamused. “Just the staring part.” 

He nods. “Okay, ready?” he shuts his eyes in preparation, “3, 2, 1, go!” 

Your eyes open at the same time as his, and you nearly laugh at the sheer amount of competitive spirit radiating off Kevin at that moment. And when you mention it, he shakes it off, muttering something about how you’re supposed to be silent. 

When you start leaning in towards him, it’s to mock him and his competitiveness. Or at least, it is at first. But somewhere along the way, you lose track of how close you get to him. Lose track of time as well. Too distracted with studying the concentrated furrow of his brows and the flecks in his eyes to notice whether you’ve spent one minute or twenty getting lost in them. And it’s a cheesy thought, yes, but there’s something about him and the black hair falling in front of his forehead that makes it so hard to care. 

You inhale. “I think I feel compelled to do something now.” 

“What?” 

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his for a brief moment, then pull away. 

“I won,” Kevin murmurs, a smug smile painted across his face, “you closed your eyes first.” 

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous; you know that right?” 

“I do.” 

“Good.” 

You kiss him again. 

— 

“Kevin, what are we doing?” You ask for the third time as he pulls you into the red telephone booth and shuts the door. “You do know that these don’t actually work anymore right?” 

He shushes you, pressing a finger to his lips and picking up the receiver. “I have to make a call.” He clears his throat, holds the receiver up to his ear, and makes the ringing sound. “Come on, Jacob, pick up.” You stare at him waiting for the punchline. It never comes. Instead, he fixes you a look and nods his head at your empty hand. 

“Ah, I see,” you hold out a fake phone in your hand, clearing your throat and putting on a fake deep voice. “Hey, Kevin. Long time no talk. How’s Europe?” 

Kevin gives you a funny look. “Hey, Jacob. Europe is great, but why does your voice sound like that?”

You clear your throat again returning to your normal voice. “My bad, I just woke up.” 

“That’s better. Anyways, I called to tell you that I met someone on my very last night in Europe.” 

“How’d you meet them?” 

“On the train to Amsterdam actually. They were sitting by this really annoying couple, so they got up and sat right across the aisle from me. What are the chances, right?”

“Probably, low.” You begin, a familiar exhilaration filling your stomach at what you’re about to confess. “Unless, of course, it wasn’t by chance at all. Unless they saw you getting on the train, thought you were really cute, and used the couple as an excuse to sit by you.” You smile as you say it, finding the way Kevin looks at you after the admission utterly swoon worthy.

“Well, even if that’s true. I think I sort of blew it with them in the beginning. They saw me rereading ‘A series of unfortunate events’ and probably thought I was so lame.” 

“Nah,” you mutter, smiling at your feet, “they probably found it endearing.” 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I got a good feeling.” When you meet Kevin’s eyes, he’s still watching you, and you find it humorous, almost, how you can barely keep your eyes off each other now especially considering how impossible it felt to do so in the beginning. “So what happened after that?” 

“Oh well, I asked them to come to the lounge car with me and guess what?” 

“What?” 

“They said yes.” 

“Incredible.”

“Then, we got to talking, and, Jacob, everything they said sounded so smart and composed; I felt like a bumbling idiot in front of them. I mean, you wouldn’t believe how incredibly brilliant they are, not to mention gorgeous, and...” his voice trails off, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You lean towards him a bit, as if that’ll get you closer to hearing the rest of the sentence. 

“And what?” 

“And I think I fell in love with them right then.” 

For a second, you forget to breathe. 

Kevin hangs up the fake phone call, handing the receiver to you. “Your turn.” 

You take the phone from him, pretend to dial the number, then make the ringing sound while you wait for Kevin to pick up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Chanhee. It’s me. I have to cancel on our lunch plans tomorrow.” 

“Oh no. Why? Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, no, everything is fine. I just met someone on the train and—god, I know this is going to sound insane—but I got off the train with him in Amsterdam.” 

“That is insane,” his eyes widen dramatically as he says it. “What made you get off the train with him?” 

“Well, for starters, the arguing couple.” 

“Right, and of course, I, Chanhee, know exactly what that means.” 

“See, I knew you’d understand.” You laugh. “But other than the couple, you know, we started talking on the train and he was so sweet and really cute in this clumsy, flustered sort of way. I don’t know. I think a part of me had already decided to get off the train with him before he ever asked.” 

“That sounds…” he falters there, as if he’s still searching for the right word, “special.”

You nod. “It feels special too.” 

“So what now?” 

“I’m not sure.” You answer honestly. “He’s from Canada and has a flight back there tomorrow morning.” 

“Well, do you plan on seeing him again?” 

The question comes like a slap to the face from the palm of reality itself. One that you probably should have anticipated; a question that probably should’ve crossed your mind at least once. But somehow, you’ve neglected to wonder what’s to come of this fling past tonight.

You hang up, and the obnoxious clatter of the receiver falling back into place rings throughout the booth. 

“I guess we should talk about that.”

“Yeah, I guess we should.” He mumbles, something in his demeanor changing with the words. 

A silence overcomes both of you, and it feels like you’re in the listening booth of the record shop again, avoiding each other’s eyes and waiting for the other to make the first move. 

“Well it’s—“ 

“I think—“ 

You both start at the same time, words crashing together in the air. He laughs, gesturing for you to go first. 

You exhale sharply, tugging on your fingers and already nervous to hear how Kevin will respond. “I just don’t think we should fool ourselves here and make this out to be anything more than it is.” 

“Yeah, no. I was gonna say the same thing.” He nods solemnly, visibly gulping as if the words are hard to swallow. A smile fights its way onto his lips but doesn’t manage to meet his eyes. “So what now?” 

“Well, we have tonight,” you begin, stepping closer, finding his hand, and twirling his pinky finger with yours, “I say we make the most of it.” 

“In that case,” he returns the gesture, capturing your hand and pulling you a little closer, “I have an idea.” 

—

Kevin’s idea ends up with you standing awkwardly off to the side of a bar, quite literally twiddling your thumbs. You reach for Kevin’s necklace that’s now secured around your neck and wonder what part of his plan explains why he gave it to you before entering this establishment. You sneak a few glances at Kevin who's speaking with the lady behind the bar. The lady finally nods, smiling cheerily and heading around the bar. Kevin swivels around, shooting you a thumbs up before receiving the bottle of wine that the lady had retrieved for him. 

“How did you do that?” You ask once you’re both out of earshot, exiting from the building. 

“I told her that I just proposed.” 

You look at him unconvinced, wiggling your left hand in his face. “No ring.” 

“That’s what the necklace was for.” 

“And it worked?” You say, disbelief seeping into your voice. “She believed you?” 

He scoffs. “I don’t know why you look so shocked when you’re literally the one I convinced to get off a train with a complete stranger.” 

And, well, he makes an excellent point. 

— 

You end up at a park, laying on your backs and making silly comments about each star. You have jackets laid out on the grass beneath you and another draped over both of you acting as a blanket. 

“Have you ever heard of that theory?” You say, turning to lay on your side. “About how people fall out of love for the same reason they fell in.” He turns to lay on his side, nodding. “It terrifies me.” 

He frowns. “I think love alone is pretty terrifying.” 

“Did you mean it?” You reposition yourself with an arm under your head. “Back in the telephone booth, did you mean it when you said you fell for me on the train.” 

He stares at you for a long moment then smiles, whispering a small but sincere ‘yes’. 

“Can I tell you a secret then?” He nods. “I think I fell for you too.” 

“When?” 

“Guess.” 

“On the bridge?” You shake your head. “During dinner?” 

“Before that.” 

“In the museum?” 

“You’re getting colder.”

“Ah,” he sighs in understanding, “the listening booth.” 

You nod. “It was while we were listening to that Italian song, ‘Il Mondo’. Each time I felt you looking away, I would look at you. Then you’d turn your head back, and I’d pretend like I wasn’t staring. That moment—well, I guess it was pretty mundane. But, I don’t know, it still felt a little like magic.” 

“Mundane things can be quite magical.” 

“Which one is love then: magical or mundane?” 

He shrugs. “Both, I think.” 

There’s a silence, and it lingers for long enough to remind you of the awkwardness between you and Kevin after getting off the train. However, this silence is so much more different than that other one because it’s the kind that only comes when two people understand each other.

Kevin is the one who ends up breaking it, cutting through the night’s overwhelming quiet with a soft voice. 

“I feel like that painting from the museum right now.” He recalls the title: “‘Lover’s Embrace’.” 

“Is that what we are?” You question, a bit of misplaced insecurity dipping into your voice. “Lovers?” 

“Is there any other way to describe this?” 

“I don’t know.” You inhale. “Strangers?” 

He waits a beat, then offers: “Soulmates?” 

You’re reminded of the conversation you had in the pub, and his gut-wrenching, life-altering definition of the term. You meet his eyes steadily. “Do you believe that?” 

He smiles. “Do you?” 

And there’s something about the way he says the question that makes it sound like a dare, like a request. As if he isn’t asking if you believe it, but rather, he’s asking you to believe it. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug. But it’s a lie, you do. 

“The way I see it,” he begins, scooting closer, “if someone were to give me an ultimatum: I’d marry you right now. And I know it’s insane, I know that probably just sounds like some grand romantic bullshit, but I’m serious. With how I’ve come to feel about you tonight, I could wake up every day and put in the work of choosing to love you.” 

“And what about the couple on the train?” 

“What about them?” 

“What happens when we become them? What happens when we hate each other so much, we blow up in public?” 

“Who says we will?” 

“But hypothetically,” you insist, “what happens then?” 

“Honestly?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s gonna sound stupid.” 

“Just tell me.” 

“I wouldn’t mind.” He lets the statement sit for a second, inhaling deeply before continuing. “I’d accept the inevitable arguing in the middle of a train if I was doing it with you.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“But that’s the craziest part,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I actually do.” 

“How?” You huff. “How can you sound so certain that you’ll love me despite all the things you’ll come to hate me for?” 

“Because you got off the train with me,” he says, shaking his head like the answer is obvious. “And at this point in the night, I’m pretty convinced that you’re the only person in the world who would.” 

And yeah, you think laughing, he’s probably right about that part. Because who else would be insane enough to get off a train with a complete stranger? Who else would fall in love on a train and while listening to an Italian record? Who else but you and Kevin Moon? 

“You know what they call that?” 

“What?”

You raise your brow, something terrifying hanging off the tip of your tongue: 

“Soulmate culture.” 

— 

You used to love sunrises. Loved how golden they are. How they coat everything in sight, lighting up whatever darkness was left by the night. You always saw them as a promise of something new, a new day and a new beginning. But today, when the sun does finally rise, you can’t seem to remember why you used to love them so much. Especially not after you spent the entire night dreading this particular one.

The walk to the train station had been quiet for the most part, a solemn and groggy acceptance that it was your final stretch of time together. And now standing with Kevin at the platform, you’ve never hated the arrival of a train more.

“I should probably get on the train now.”  

“Right,” Kevin mutters, chewing on his bottom lip and bouncing on his heels. He laughs, awkwardly, rubbing at his eyes. “God, I hate goodbyes.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I hate this one.”

You hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face between his neck and shoulder. He hesitates for a second, as if he’s shocked by the gesture, then tightens his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. And the only thing you can think about while hugging him is how this is the first and last time you’ll ever do so. 

You pull away, give him a small, sad smile, then grab your things, stepping onto the train. You give him a wave before disappearing into the car. From the window by your seat, you can still see him. He finds you, giving you a smile and another wave. And when he turns around, beginning to walk out of the train station, nothing has ever felt more wrong.

“Kevin!” You shout, unlatching the window and sticking your head out of it. He whips back around. “Let’s just do it! Let’s see each other again!”

It takes a second for Kevin to react. Too long, your brain convinces you already wishing the words back. But it’s as you sink back into your seat that he breaks out in the most brilliant grin. “Fuck it, yeah, let’s do it! Where?”

You laugh at the absurdity of this moment and how unreal it feels. “Here! Amsterdam, at this train station, on this platform.”

“Okay, here. In one year?”

You shake your head. “I can’t wait that long.”

“Me neither.” He laughs, an exhale of pure joy that you can see even from the train. 

“Six months from today.” You tell him over the train whistle as the wheels start to move, pulling you away. “See you then.”

He waves goodbye again, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “see you then!”

You fall back in your seat, immediately burying your face into your palms. Your hands trail down, rubbing at your neck, clutching the part of your chest that falls over your heart, and—what is that?

You look down, recognizing the object around your neck and lifting it up with the pad of your thumb. And as you stare at the pendant of Kevin’s forgotten necklace, your smile grows.

—

SIX MONTHS LATER

The train station feels so much more different than how you left it. The weather now colder, and the platform decked with lingering holiday decorations. You get off the train and look around, praying for a familiar face.

“Hey.” The voice comes from behind you. You pivot around, so quickly your head spins. Or maybe the spinning sensation has something to do with how euphoric it feels to see Kevin again.

“Hey.”

“You came?” He asks, not bothering to hold back his elation.

“Well, yeah,” you reach into the pocket of your coat and fish out the necklace he left six months ago, “you forgot this.”

“Funny coincidence, huh? Unless, of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all.” He hints with a smug grin. “Unless I left it on purpose so that you’d have a reason to come back.”

“If that’s the case, then you spent six months without your necklace for nothing.” 

“Oh, and why’s that?”

You step closer, smiling. “Because I already had a reason to come.”

a/n: i had way too much fun writing this,, also the translation of the italian song is half google and half me kind of assuming what the lyrics mean so idk how accurate that translation is

[robininthelabyrinth]

Without a Path - Chapter 2 - ao3

Warnings: adult content - please mind the other tags on Ao3!

-

Morning came far sooner than Lan Qiren would have liked.

Unsurprisingly, he woke first, the habit long ingrained by his sect’s rules. Instead of rising, he twisted to look at Nie Mingjue, who had at some point wrapped himself around him like an especially warm blanket, his chin tucked in against his neck.

In the pale light of predawn, he looked calm and undisturbed. He looked young, and vulnerable, and like he shouldn’t have had to deal with any of that.

Lan Qiren let out a shuddering breath and wondered how he would ever justify this to – anyone.

Lan Xichen, for one. Himself, for another.

Nie Mingjue.

A moment later, far too soon, Nie Mingjue started stirring. Lan Qiren suppressed a moment of panic; he’d only had enough time to briefly clean himself, nothing else – for some reason he’d thought he would have more time to collect himself, to make a plan for their next steps. They would need to arrange an engagement, even if they didn’t go through with the actual marriage – Wen Ruohan hadn’t seemed like he would publicize what had happened in order to force them into a corner, since he was clearly still angling to get Nie Mingjue himself, but having something prepared would put them in a better situation, reduce anxiety…

“Teacher Lan?”

Lan Qiren flinched.

“Sect Leader Lan,” Nie Mingjue corrected himself quickly. He sat up, the blanket Lan Qiren had tugged over the two of them falling off to reveal the fact that he was still naked. “Thank you.”

Somehow, that was the thing that went too far.

“Don’t thank me,” Lan Qiren said, voice harsher than he meant it to be, unwelcoming and unfriendly. Nie Mingjue’s cultivation was high enough that he’d healed away most of the marks from the day before, but his lips were still red and Lan Qiren couldn’t stop seeing Wen Ruohan’s fingers slipping between them, violating him despite Nie Mingjue’s specific request that it not be allowed. Couldn’t stop hearing Wen Ruohan’s offer to share him, his suggestion that he would’ve invited Lan Qiren to join in, his expectation that he would have accepted.

He’d promised to help Nie Mingjue, and what had he done? He’d failed him. He hadn’t been able to think of another way out of their dilemma, which he should have – instead he’d used his former student’s body for his own pleasure, taken advantage of his youth and desperation, had him submit to him, had him call him teacher…

He might as well have been Jin Guangshan.

“There’s no need for you to thank me for what I’ve done to you,” he said, averting his eyes, hating himself.

“There is,” Nie Mingjue said. “Don’t get some stupid idea into your head or anything. You saved my life. You made it –”

He choked, and Lan Qiren turned to look at him again. Nie Mingjue’s cheeks were flushed, but he was looking straight at him, fierce and determined to say his thoughts no matter what.

“You made it better than it might have otherwise been,” he finally said. “It was – good.”

“That would be the drug,” Lan Qiren said, feeling his own cheeks burning. “Two drugs, in fact; you were right about that. Wen Ruohan admitted it.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said, and rubbed his nose when Lan Qiren looked at him sharply. “I remember some of it. I was…supposed to, I think. You drove him away.”

He had. Through sheer bravado, but he’d managed it.

At least he’d done that much.

“You’ll need to be careful of him in the future,” he warned, and Nie Mingjue nodded, his expression grim. “He won’t give up easily.”

“I’ll be careful,” Nie Mingjue promised, but then his eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. It wasn’t just – because of the drug. You…” He flailed a bit. “You made it good. I liked – when you –”

He shook his head.

Lan Qiren cleared his throat, embarrassed and unsure of why Nie Mingjue continued to dwell on the point. He appreciated the younger man’s attempt to comfort him – another failing on his part, as he was the elder, the experienced one, and he had chosen freely, while Nie Mingjue had been coerced – but they really ought to focus on the more practical realities of –

“Can we do it again?”

Lan Qiren choked on air.

“Just – once more,” Nie Mingjue said. He was staring at the bedding. “I know I’m not – what you would want. You’re a Lan, you only want to be with your ‘one’, and I’m not…well, anyway, it’s not a situation where I can exactly let people know, is it? But since we’re both here already, we might as well. Right?”

If Lan Qiren had been Jin Guangshan, Nie Mingjue would already be pressed down, Lan Qiren reflected, and he couldn’t deny that certain parts of him were interested in that. But a lifetime of restraint gave him the discipline he needed to think the request through and see that it was not so clear as all that.

“What’s driving this?” Lan Qiren asked, crossing his arms. “You are not a man who succumbs so easily to lust.”

“I’m not,” Nie Mingjue acknowledged, meeting his eyes. “But I want there to be no mistake about what occurred between us.”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I should think it was quite clear.”

“It is, to me. I was in desperation, and you aided me, and it was good. The circumstances were not what either of us would have chosen, and perhaps not the partner, either, but I will not have you going home and torturing yourself into seclusion because you think that you took advantage of me. Xichen would never forgive me!”

Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped. “I would not!” he squawked, thinking to himself that he didn’t need the reminder that he’d bedded a man who was friends with his nephew.

Besides, Nie Mingjue was wrong: yes, he’d been feeling guilty, even agonizingly guilty, but there were limits to such things. Lan Qiren still had two nephews and a sect to run; he couldn’t follow his brother’s example and abandon all his responsibilities no matter how badly he felt.

Nie Mingjue did not appear convinced.

“Even if I did have such an inclination, you don’t have to have sex with me to disprove it,” Lan Qiren insisted.

“Maybe I want to,” Nie Mingjue said stubbornly. “Maybe I’d like to know what sex is like when I’m not drugged to the gills, and this is my only opportunity.”

“But it isn’t,” Lan Qiren argued. “Sect Leader Wen made it clear that he wouldn’t press for a marriage, and no one else knows – you’ll be able to return to your sect, continue as Sect Leader. You could take another lover –”

“Oh, because that’ll work,” Nie Mingjue said, and now he was the one with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed in a glare. “Even if Wen Ruohan won’t press the matter now, he’s only doing it because he still thinks he can do better. If I were to go to bed with someone else, someone neither you nor him, you really think he’d hesitate? And then I’d be an adulterer as well.”

That was – a very good point.

“It was my first time, Teacher Lan,” Nie Mingjue said, pressing his advantage the moment he saw that he was gaining some ground. He was a fearsome opponent, whether in battle or out. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that maybe I had some ideas of my own, things I wanted to try out…”

“Like what?” Lan Qiren asked, cutting him off with an arched eyebrow. He didn’t actually think Nie Mingjue was pushing this idea for his own purposes, even he was making a solid argument; this was all a roundabout means of ensuring that Lan Qiren wouldn’t go into seclusion over his guilt.

Sure enough, Nie Mingjue spluttered a little, and Lan Qiren smiled, intending on pointing out that neither of them were in any state to be having this discussion – that surely after some time and sober reflection they would be able to come up with a better way to deal with the threat of Wen Ruohan and societal expectations both – except he never got the chance to say it before Nie Mingjue blurted out, “I want to suck your cock.”

Lan Qiren stared.

Nie Mingjue looked back at him, defiant. “Well?” he said, challenge clear in his voice. “You’re not going to let the only memory I have on my tongue be Wen Ruohan, are you, Teacher Lan?”

Lan Qiren should refuse him. He should insist on them both pulling back – on Nie Mingjue getting dressed, he was still without a stitch of clothing on him – on taking some time to think before doing anything he couldn’t get back.

He shouldn’t be leaning back against the wall and waving his hand in implied permission.

He definitely shouldn’t do that, which is why he was so surprised to find that he was, in fact, doing it.

Nie Mingjue rose up on his knees and bent down with the recklessness aggression that was more characteristic of him than the hesitation of the day before, pushing aside Lan Qiren’s robes, and Lan Qiren was struck by a sudden, visceral memory of the day before, his cock shining with traces of Nie Mingjue’s own slick on it.

He didn’t have time to think about that too long, though, before his cock, already hard enough to ache, was disappearing into Nie Mingjue’s eager mouth.

It took Nie Mingjue a few tries to figure out what exactly to do – at first he let Lan Qiren’s cock into his cheek, and then to his throat, nearly choking when he did, and finally helped himself with his hand to Lan Qiren’s balls as if to steady himself, and he seemed uncertain as to whether he ought to be sucking or using his tongue or simply letting Lan Qiren’s cock sit on his tongue, trying one after the other without much distinction.

It was awful.

It was amazing.

Nie Mingjue’s hair was entirely loose now, falling over his face and onto Lan Qiren’s thighs, his expression intent and focused as if he were training his saber, his mouth full of Lan Qiren’s cock.

Lan Qiren found his hands drifting up and over towards him and restrained himself, forcing them back to his sides, but Nie Mingjue saw him and pulled up, wiping the drool off the corner of his mouth with the back of his palm.

“Teacher Lan,” he said. “This unlearned student humbly requests his teacher’s guidance.”

It was a lot harder to hide his interest when his cock was twitching in Nie Mingjue’s grip, Lan Qiren thought. He reached out and ran his fingers through Nie Mingjue’s hair, making the other man shiver.

“Students should not be impertinent,” he said, and Nie Mingjue swallowed hard. “If I agree to teach you, will you be obedient?”

“Yes, Teacher Lan,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Qiren guided his mouth back to his cock.

Nie Mingjue was, as always, a fast learner, even if the subject Lan Qiren was instructing him in was something he himself had little experience in beyond his fantasies. He avoided using teeth, cleverly applied his tongue, and sucked him enthusiastically, eagerly taking more into his mouth as soon as he could, tears springing into the corners of his eyes. He even obeyed Lan Qiren’s order to put his hands behind his back, hands clasping onto wrists, and allowed Lan Qiren to fuck his face, his fingers dug into his hair and scalp as his hips set a bruising pace.

“Do you want me to come in your mouth?” Lan Qiren asked when the possibility seemed close by, releasing him enough to pull off.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, and his voice was a little hoarse. Hoarse from the use Lan Qiren had made of his throat, Lan Qiren thought, and noted that it was his cock that was shiny with spit this time, not Wen Ruohan’s fingers. A much better mental image. Perhaps there was something to Nie Mingjue’s idea of moving past yesterday’s events after all, though that might just be Lan Qiren’s libido making retroactive justifications. “Can I…on top?”

“You want to ride me?” Lan Qiren asked, and Nie Mingjue nodded, looking shamefaced. “You may.”

He said it as if he were granting Nie Mingjue a favor, but he watched avidly as Nie Mingjue clambered over to him, straddling him and kneeling above him, and swallowed when he realized that Nie Mingjue had yet to release his hands from behind his back – he hadn’t been given permission, so he hadn’t.

“Good boy,” Lan Qiren praised, and Nie Mingjue bit his lip. “You may use your hands to guide me inside.”

Nie Mingjue ended up having to finger himself open first to get him in there, grumbling about his healing speed, but Lan Qiren didn’t object to the delay – not when it gave him the front row seat to such an appealing show. Not when Nie Mingjue grunted as if struck when he finally pressed down in just the right way and Lan Qiren’s cock slipped inside of him.

“You’re so fucking big,” Nie Mingjue hissed, clearly not meaning it as a compliment as he put one arm on Lan Qiren’s shoulder to brace himself. “This is ridiculous. Other people aren’t like this.”

Lan Qiren was aware that he was above average in that particular regard, although not monstrously so. “Have you seen others?” he asked, curious, and was surprised when Nie Mingjue nodded.

“The Unclean Realm has common baths,” he reminded him. “Hot springs.”

Lan Qiren had known that, of course – had even taken advantage of them several times when visiting on discussion conferences or otherwise – but somehow he hadn’t expected that Nie Mingjue would have shared the baths with other men. He supposed that was his own failure of imagination and his unfamiliarity with the whole notion of misalignment, despite having disciplined his thoughts to accept it - after all, Nie Mingjue might be misaligned, might have the body of a woman, but he was a man of the Qinghe Nie, and the penalties for sexual misconduct in that sect were even stricter than the Lan sect’s. If he was recognized as a man, then surely he was a man, with all that entailed, and of course it would presumably have been even more inappropriate for him to go to the women’s baths…

He lost the train of thought entirely a moment later when, apparently impatient to get to it, Nie Mingjue proceeded to shove himself halfway down, impaling himself open on his cock. Lan Qiren caught his hips before he did himself any damage. “Slowly,” he snapped, then reined himself in. “Please recall that it is also a sensitive area for me.”

“Right,” Nie Mingjue said, flushing. “Of course. Slowly?”

“Slowly.”

Nie Mingjue gingerly settled himself the rest of the way down, sliding until he was fully seated, his cunt stretched wide across Lan Qiren’s cock. In the light of dawn, hair a mess and body still sticky with yesterday’s sweat, he looked beautiful as he started slowly working his hips up and down, his hand sliding in between his legs to rub at his clit as he started riding Lan Qiren in earnest.

“You’re doing so well,” Lan Qiren said. “Taking me so well. Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue panted. “Yes – yes. Like this. Like yesterday. It’s good.”

Lan Qiren brushed his hair back and touched him, ran his hands over his cheeks, his swollen lips, over his shoulders and down his sides, put his hands on his thighs and his hips, slid them back to cup his ass.

“Good,” he said, rocking his hips up to meet him. “I want you to feel good.”

“Can I –” Nie Mingjue started, and then hesitated.

Lan Qiren couldn’t help feeling a stab of humor. “Is there really something you’re afraid to ask me?” he inquired sternly. “Now?”

He squeezed Nie Mingjue’s ass with his hands, fingers kneading the firm flesh, one even slipping back to rub across his hole, and Nie Mingjue flushed.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted out, and Lan Qiren stilled.

Had they not…? No, he supposed they hadn’t. They’d fucked several times in several positions, Nie Mingjue had even gotten on his knees and put his cock into his mouth, and Lan Qiren hadn’t once kissed him.

“You may,” he said, his voice softening, and Nie Mingjue surged forward to press their lips together. It was a bad kiss by any objective criteria, too hard and noses bumping into each other, and Nie Mingjue had no idea what he was supposed to do with his tongue, whether to stick it into Lan Qiren’s mouth or simply jab it at him; after a moment he tried to pull back, looking embarrassed.

Lan Qiren caught him by the chin and drew him back in, trying to show him with his own lips what to do.

They kissed for a while, long, wet, slow kisses in the light of the morning dawn, Nie Mingjue in Lan Qiren’s lap with Lan Qiren’s cock seated firmly in his cunt, their hands in each other’s hair.

Lan Qiren felt something a little strange, a pulling sensation and then something falling, and then a moment later Nie Mingjue pulled back with a small exclamation of surprise: he’d accidentally tugged Lan Qiren’s forehead ribbon free. While it was bound tightly, its position reinforced with magic, Lan Qiren hadn’t rearranged it since the evening before, when it had undoubtedly become loose during their activities.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue said, watching as the ribbon fluttered down, twining with his fingers. “I didn’t mean to –”

Lan Qiren rose up in a sudden movement and pushed him back onto the bed.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he announced, suddenly giddy – like any good Lan, his ribbon was his self-restraint, and must never be touched by any but his parents, his children, or his lover. It belatedly occured to him that per that last exception, Nie Mingjue was at the moment unquestionably permitted. “Put your hands above your head.”

Nie Mingjue looked confused, but obeyed at once – such a good student – and gaped when Lan Qiren looped his forehead ribbon around his wrists, tying him to the bed.

“You can hold onto it if you like,” Lan Qiren told him kindly, and then set about fucking him as enthusiastically as he might have ever imagined doing to a lover. Nie Mingjue did end up clutching at the ribbon as if for balance, yielding completely to Lan Qiren’s whims as he fucked him in multiple positions, pushing his body around as if it was his own personal doll.

They ended up side by side, with Lan Qiren penetrating Nie Mingjue from behind and Nie Mingjue having freed one hand – with Lan Qiren’s permission, of course – to frantically touch himself as Lan Qiren fucked him. He came first, body shuddering, and Lan Qiren took advantage of his suddenly slack body to curl up against him and use him mercilessly before he, too, reached completion, spilling into that warm, wet heat.

“Fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, panting as Lan Qiren pulled out and sat up. He sounded impressed. “I see why you keep those on.”

Lan Qiren retrieved his forehead ribbon from where it was still looped around Nie Mingjue’s other hand and settled it back in place on his forehead before starting to gather up the rest of his clothing, discarded at some point in the morning’s proceedings as it had not been the evening before. “You did too well in my classes for me to think that you don’t know that that is not how that works,” he said primly, and was rewarded with Nie Mingjue’s smile.

Truly a handsome young man.

His lover. Apparently.

The last few days had been full of terrible decisions, this morning’s almost certainly among them, but he was suddenly having trouble feeling regret. It was difficult to think of himself as another Jin Guangshan, careless and ruthless with the bodies of others, when his own lover looked pleased as a smug cat and just as satisfied. When only moments before he’d been whimpering out pleas for more amidst moans of pleasure that Lan Qiren had himself wrung from his body.

Perhaps Nie Mingjue had had a point, about the seclusion. He would not have actually retreated from the world as his brother did, but he might have tried to punish himself in other ways, withdrawing from the things he liked best – teaching, for one – without considering that Nie Mingjue was, unlike his actual students, an adult capable of making his own decisions, having his own calculus of what was acceptable and what was not.

“I’ll call for baths to be prepared,” he decided. They really did have to discuss their next steps, even if his own forward thinking was currently restricted to his intense need to clean himself thoroughly.

“Excellent idea,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting up himself and rubbing his wrists. “I feel absolutely filthy – sticky all over. I’ve ended night-hunts, good ones, and still been less sweaty than this…”

Lan Qiren made the mistake of looking at Nie Mingjue as he stretched himself and swallowed abruptly when he saw the place between his thighs, still reddened from their joining, and the trickle of fluid that slowly seeped down and dripped onto his thigh.

His first reaction was a smug feeling of pride and possession.

His second –

“I shouldn’t have finished inside of you,” he abruptly realized. He’d been thinking of Nie Mingjue as a man, and one could sow seeds all one liked with a man without concern that one of them might take root - but even if Nie Mingjue was a man in his mind and soul, his body was not. “The storm has passed, but the hill is likely to be still impassible for some time yet. I don’t know if there will be appropriate medicine available…”

Nie Mingjue stared at him briefly, then abruptly sniggered. “You’re worrying about that now?” he asked, eyes curved up into crescents. “Teacher, how many times did you come inside of me yesterday?”

It had in fact been rather a lot.

He resisted defending himself by arguing that even if it might not have been strictly necessary as a technical matter, it was surely unavoidable because they wouldn’t have been able to tolerate a few more rounds; Nie Mingjue wasn’t even accusing him of anything.

“Aren’t you concerned?” Lan Qiren asked hesitantly. “About the possibility of a –” He choked a little. “Of a child?”

“I’d resigned myself to the risk from the start,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug that was, in Lan Qiren’s view, taking things far too casually. “Medicine taken after the fact is notoriously unreliable – there are plenty of children in the world that owe their births to that! There’s nothing to be done about it, so don’t panic unnecessarily. It’ll be what it is, and at least the child, if there is one, won’t be surnamed Wen.”

It would serve Wen Ruohan’s purposes very well to ensure that Nie Mingjue was impregnated, Lan Qiren thought, panicking a perfectly reasonable amount in his opinion. What better way to show off his power and dominion over the powerful Nie sect than to force their sect leader to bear him a child? There were medicines to increase fertility as well, even if most doctors recommended against them, and of course Wen Ruohan wouldn’t care about the increased risk, even though even the strongest female cultivators often died in the birthing bed…

Even putting aside the risks, he’d never really thought too closely about having a child of his own. What would his nephews think of all this? They were still young, especially little Wangji – would they think he was seeking to replace them? Would they –

“– teacher? Sect Leader Lan?”

Lan Qiren blinked and forced himself to pay attention to Nie Mingjue, who was now fully dressed and standing in front of him. He looked much as he always did, tall and powerful, indominable – it was far too early for there to be any signs if he was pregnant, of course, but Lan Qiren couldn’t help but examine him with his eyes, wondering. Was it possible that even now…?

“Did I break you?” Nie Mingjue asked, and waved his hand in front of Lan Qiren’s eyes.

“You did not,” Lan Qiren said, finally recovering some of his dignity. “I was merely distracted. The baths –”

“I’ve already asked for them,” Nie Mingjue said, smirking. “You may need to have a conversation with your attendants regarding discretion – I doubt they missed the smell – but baths will be ready soon. We rose early enough that we’ll be able to bathe, change clothing, and still make it to the first meeting of the day, though I expect that will be cancelled on account of crisis.”

Lan Qiren frowned. “Crisis? Are you planning…”

He trailed off, abruptly disappointed in himself. He’d been about to ask if Nie Mingjue were planning on confronting Wen Ruohan for what he’d done, and to counsel against it – they could not afford to start a war, his sect would never support a war – but then he hadn’t been the target of Wen Ruohan’s scheme, even if he’d been involuntarily pulled into the mire. Who was he to tell Nie Mingjue that he couldn’t even vent his frustration?

“Oh, not me,” Nie Mingjue said, his thoughts clearly not following Lan Qiren’s at all from the faint smirk on his face. “Collateral damage only.”

“…oh?”

“Your attendants brought gossip as well as breakfast,” Nie Mingjue said, looking positively smug. “And I had time to send my own attendants to do the same for Sect Leader Jiang.”

Now Lan Qiren was truly lost. Nie Mingjue looked like a cat that had just brought home some murdered prey and wanted to be praised for it, but he couldn’t figure out what it was that he’d done. “Sect Leader Jiang?” he asked, bemused and deciding to put aside his attendants’ behavior for the moment. “You sent him – breakfast and news?”

“Breakfast, and a tonic to help ease any side-effects of the drug he, like the two of us, was dosed with,” Nie Mingjue said. “I imagine he’ll be very relieved to know he has something to blame for his conduct last night.”

“His – oh no,” Lan Qiren said. “One of the dancers?”

“One of the dancers,” Nie Mingjue confirmed.

“Yu Ziyuan –” Is going to cut off his balls and wear them as earrings. “– will not be pleased.”

“No, I imagine not.”

Lan Qiren studied Nie Mingjue. “Did you, by chance, happen to mention who was responsible for putting the drugs in his food?”

“Naturally. I even mentioned that the bottle I found in the kitchens appeared to be stamped with the mark of a Lanling glassmaker.”

Lan Qiren pinched the brow of his nose. Jiang Fengmian was a very easy-going man, most of the time, but his extremely vicious wife was his bottom line – he would undoubtedly kick up his version of a fuss with both Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan, and his version of a fuss, while not violent, was extremely time-consuming. The morning and, very likely, the afternoon, were almost certain to be a complete waste of everyone’s time.

“A bath first,” Lan Qiren said, deciding not to think about it. “And then we should discuss out next steps.”

“A bath for sure,” Nie Mingjue said, and scrubbed his face, satisfaction at sending a disaster to his enemies’ doorstep fading in favor of his habitual scowl. “As for next steps…I don’t think there’s anything to be done. We’re not prepared for a war and I can’t beat Wen Ruohan in a duel, so there’s no point in calling him out, especially as most of the cultivation world would say that nothing actually bad came of it.”

They would, too, and probably imply that Nie Mingjue had brought his fate upon himself by being born the way he was born and then not conforming himself to the accepted behaviors of the sex of his birth.

They would also then proceed to congratulate Lan Qiren and he would be forced to murder them to make them stop (and then he would need to retreat to seclusion), so it was probably all for the best that Nie Mingjue wasn’t being reckless.

“If he’s not going to press for a marriage, then we write up an engagement contract and sit on it,” Nie Mingjue concluded. “We carry on as we always have, each of us in our own sects, and, with luck, no one finds out that it exists except for the two of us.”

“For how long?”

“Until Wen Ruohan is defeated,” Nie Mingjue said, then amended, “Or until you find someone else you wish to marry, of course. I would not stand between you and your ‘one’.”

Lan Qiren had his nephews and his sect to care for; he had precious few opportunities to leave his sect to meet new people, and even fewer people would be interested in him, knowing that he was only a stand-in with all the responsibilities and none of the privileges. He had already resigned himself to not even thinking of marriage until his nephews were old enough to inherit the role of sect leader.

“I do not expect that to be an issue,” he said briefly, then glanced at Nie Mingjue’s midsection. “What if…?”

“We’ll find out in a month or so,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “No point in worrying about it until then, is there?”

It was times like this that Lan Qiren appreciated and also despised the brutal practicality of the Nie sect.

“Very well,” he said, and tried not to wonder if the child would be surnamed Nie or Lan, assuming it even existed. Though perhaps it was a cruelty of him to think of it, given… “How old are you?”

Nie Mingjue gave him a strange look, which Lan Qiren supposed he deserved, knowing as he did that the Qinghe Nie did not share that information.

“Just – you’re of age?” he tried. “An adult?”

“I’m old enough,” Nie Mingjue assured him. “There are younger than me that have been mothers safely.”

That wasn’t entirely what Lan Qiren was asking, but he knew he wouldn’t get a better response, and in all truth he wasn’t really sure he wanted to know, either. Knowing wouldn’t change what he’d done – what they’d done together – and shamefully it probably wouldn’t make his desire to do it again any less.

He vaguely heard a distant crash.

“Oh, good!” Nie Mingjue said. “Sect Leader Jiang woke up.”

Lan Qiren grimaced and went to bathe. He would deal with this – with all of this, up to and including his emotional reaction to everything that had happened in the past day – later.

For now, he would carry on.

Everything else could wait.

It did.

Years later, when the war they had tried so hard to prevent was won – when Lan Qiren had been nearly crippled by Wen Xu, who Nie Mingjue later beheaded – when Nie Mingjue was the war god of the cultivation world, and Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren’s nephew who had once been so young, was now renowned as a heaven-sent bringer of mercy, when the two of them had sworn brotherhood along with the man who had (finally) killed Wen Ruohan and brought an end to the cultivation world’s long nightmare – Nie Mingjue came to the Cloud Recesses on foot through the mountain path.

This was, of course, the most irritating way to get to the Cloud Recesses, so it was no surprise that Lan Xichen was waiting patiently for him by the gate, an expression of curiosity writ large all over his face to those who knew him well enough to read it.

“Is something the matter?” he asked the moment Nie Mingjue made it to the gate. “Is Baxia…?”

“Baxia’s fine, I’m fine,” Nie Mingjue said. “Also, I may be thinking something terribly rude about your ancestors in relation to that last hill, but I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

He wouldn’t be the first, or the last, to think such things. There was a reason some of their more reasonable ancestors had invested in stairs for the main entrance, strong cultivators or not.

“Can we speak in private?” he added. “In your study, perhaps – and you should invite your uncle.”

Lan Xichen looked even more intrigued. “Of course, da-ge. At once.”

It was a little presumptuous of him to promise such a thing, given that Lan Qiren might have been busy, but he wasn’t. He certainly wasn’t skulking around the entrance gate along with far too many others in his sect, wondering why Nie Mingjue hadn’t ridden a horse or taken the easy way up along the stairs that had been put in place for just that reason, although one might be forgiven for thinking that that was what he was doing – at any rate, there was no conflict, and so they all three of them went to Lan Xichen’s rooms.

The sect leader’s rooms, now. It was still a little strange.

“I’ll have someone fetch us tea,” Lan Xichen said, but Nie Mingjue shook his head. “No?”

“Don’t preempt me,” Nie Mingjue said, and pulled a qiankun pouch out of his sleeve. “Tea is part of the gifts I brought.”

“Gifts,” Lan Xichen repeated, his eyes going wide and a little worried. He knew, and Lan Qiren knew, what that might mean. “You brought gifts?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “Walk on a road with no path, bearing gifts,” he recited, and Lan Qiren felt his heart try to stop in his chest at the confirmation of Nie Mingjue’s intention. “That’s how proper wedding proposals are done in the Lan sect, aren’t they?”

“Under…certain circumstances,” Lan Xichen admitted. He put his hands behind his back to hide his anxiety. “Da-ge…you’ve always been a – very good friend –”

“Of many years running,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “I’m not going to lie; I’m hoping to capitalize on that to get your approval.”

“My…approval?” Lan Xichen asked, astonished, and rightfully so: he was no one’s father, so his approval would only be required for those whose parents had already died – a function of his role as sect leader. Yet, sect leader or not, no one could grant their approval over their own marriage, and that meant that Nie Mingjue was not, as Lan Xichen had so clearly feared, here to propose to him – poor Lan Xichen, who was exclusively interested in women and who had on account of that already needed to subtly turn down the advances of his other sworn brother. “You want my approval?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m here for your uncle.”

“My – shufu?!”

“We’re already engaged, so that should make it easier to get it through your sect elders,” Nie Mingjue said. “I still wanted to do it right, though.”

Lan Qiren covered his eyes with his hands as Lan Xichen exclaimed, far too loudly, “You’re engaged?! To shufu? Since when?!”

There were several audible thunk sounds from outside the hanshi. Several people would need to be punished for eavesdropping, and by morning they would probably need to discipline the entire sect for breaching the prohibition against gossip.

“Oh, ages,” Nie Mingjue said blithely, and Lan Qiren resisted the urge to try to wring his neck. “I think you were something like fifteen? It was something of a matter of circumstance at the time, though I like to think we’ve reached an understanding in the ensuing years.”

Lan Xichen’s mouth kept moving, but no sound was coming out.

“Are you intending on me marrying into your sect?” Lan Qiren asked, deciding to move onto the practicalities while his nephew processed his shock.

Nie Mingjue nodded. “Obviously you can come to the Cloud Recesses as much as required to assist Xichen with his responsibilities, but your reputation as a teacher is such that I’m sure you would be able to teach just as well from the Unclean Realm.”

“Statements like that may lead my sect elders to think that you’re trying to poach me.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on starting my pitch to them by pointing out that the Unclean Realm has more surfaces we can fuck against, was I?”

Lan Xichen made an extremely high-pitched sound from the back of his throat.

“I would advise against making that argument, yes,” Lan Qiren said with a sigh. “However, it would be more helpful to point out how this would mitigate their concern regarding additional collateral branches in the main lineage of the Lan clan.”

“I’ll take your advice,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ll also read your agreement to the entire concept into it. Well, Xichen? You going to let me steal your uncle away or what?”

“I would hardly term it as stealing –”

“You had sex?!” Lan Xichen shouted. “With my uncle?! And – uncle! You! With Mingjue-xiong?!”

“This may take a while,” Lan Qiren said to Nie Mingjue, maintaining his dignity.

“I’m going to tell Wangji!”

“Possibly a long while,” he revised.

“I’ll go wait in your quarters then, shall I?”

“You will,” Lan Qiren said testily, “wait in the guest quarters to which you will be assigned, as is appropriate.”

Nie Mingjue grinned at him. “Oh, all right,” he said. “Maybe I’ll go to the library and read up on interpretations regarding your sect’s rules on promiscuity between engaged couples.”

“Da-ge!”

“Sect Leader Nie, don’t make this worse. Go already.”

“I’m going, I’m going…”

Lan Qiren would not start his married life by strangling his intended, no matter how much of a troublemaker he was being. Though he might put him over his knee later on.

Something to think about.

[apocalypseornaw]

Real Feelings

For the square *fake dating* on @girl-next-door-writes bingo

You pulled up to the newest construction site and parked next to Bobby’s truck. Him and Dean would be around here somewhere Ellen had tasked you with delivering the crew’s lunch order from the diner. You stepped out the truck then leaned back in to grab the box that held the food. When you heard someone call your name you nearly dropped the box. It was Micheal, your ex boyfriend who you’d been engaged to for a short time until he’d broken it off because in his words “This will never work out and it’ll cause less heartbreak now” you hadn’t seen him in a few years. 

You plastered a smile on your face as he moved to help you grab the box “Hi Michea! How have you been, what are you doing here?” he motioned around the lot “I’m here to meet with Dean and Bobby.They found a way to work around a design flaw I didn’t think about. What are you doing here?” you motioned to the box in your hand “Ellen, Bobby’s wife asked me to bring lunch” 

He smiled and waved a hand towards the trailers that held the temp offices “Then we’re headed in the same way. How’ve you been?” you nodded “Can’t complain, you?” he ran a hand across the back of his neck and you knew that as a tell he was nervous about something so when he started the next sentence with “Well actually I was going to call you” your stomach knotted. Why was he calling you? “Because?” you questioned so he grinned “I’m getting married. It’s a whole thing that’ll be up in the mountains. Charity, you remember Charity don’t you?” you nodded because yes you did in fact remember Charity. She was the greek goddess Micheal had met a few months after your split. She was gorgeous and sweet enough to meet sugar in her mouth. “Well she wanted to know if you’d like to come. Now it’ll not just be the wedding. My father is having a grand opening of the resort we’re using as well so there’ll be plenty of activities to do. You always did love the snow”

You walked up the steps next to him and knew your emotions were plainly written across your face because the next thing he added rather quickly was “And of course, if you’re seeing someone he can come along as well” you wracked your brain thinking of anyone you could use to keep from looking like you hadn’t gone this long without a lasting relationship considering he was getting married for real this time. “I’ll have to talk with him” you replied and could see his eyebrows go up slightly “Anyone I know?” you stepped into the door and as you did blurted out the only name that popped into your head “I’m actually seeing Dean” Micheal stopped in his tracks “Winchester?”  you breathed a sigh of relief to see Dean wasn’t in the office yet then nodded “Yeah about a year now” “Can’t say I’m surprised” he muttered and you were about to ask why when the door opened to Dean walking in.

“Hey baby!” you called moving to hug him then whispered in his ear “For the love of god go along with it. I’ll owe you” he gave you a look but pressed a quick kiss to your cheek “Hey to you too sweetheart” then nodded to Micheal “Hey man” you knew Dean was probably wondering what was really going on considering he was watching you as you laid his and Bobby’s food down then walked out to take the other food to the crew. Bobby had joined him and Micheal by then so Dean excused him by saying “Bobby I’m gonna walk Y/N. Make sure she’s wearing her hardhat this time” Bobby nodded then turned his attention back to the plans he was showing Micheal.

------

Once you and Dean were outside he cut his eyes at you and took one of the boxes out of your hand “So darling, when did we start seeing each other?” you grimaced then explained “I’m so sorry but he caught me by surprise. I didn’t know this was one of his dad’s builds then he’s talking about the fact that him and Charity are getting married and he’s inviting me and my boyfriend and honestly? With the exception of Bobby and Sam I don’t really hang out with that many guys besides you” you quickly explained the weekend Micheal and Charity had planned heading up to their big day.

He was silent for a few moments then shrugged “Is it paid?” “What?” you asked in confusion so he clarified “Is it paid? Like we show up and enjoy this brand spanking new resort in the mountains, get our food cooked for us. Our rooms cleaned for us and all we have to do in return is sit through your douchey ex getting married?” You nodded slowly and he smirked “I say let’s do it. I think it’d be fun and besides when’s the last time either of us had a vacation, let alone one we didn’t have to foot out an armload for?”

You opened your mouth then shut it just as quickly “Well I gotta go after I get this food to the crew but if you’re sure, tell him yes” he winked at you then took the other box from your hands “Go on and get back to Ellen because I fully expect my girl to have some new outfits before we show up to this destination wedding” you rolled your eyes at him then playfully swatted his ass “I’ll see what I can managed sugar”

------

The closer the weekend of the wedding got the more you wanted to back out. You and Micheal still had a lot of mutual friends and those mutual friends also knew Dean, Sam, Bobby and the entire bunch. There was bound to either be awkwardness or the horror of Micheal finding out you lied. Any time you bought the worry up to Dean he’d wave it off with the logic of “We know damn near everything about each other sweetheart. Hell you crashed at my place after you two split until we got you into your loft. We’re comfortable with casual touch. He’ll never know”

------

Before you knew it the wedding weekend had sprung up on you. You were curled up in the passenger seat of Dean’s truck as he drove following the directions Micheal and Charity had included in with every invitation. Normally he’d drive his impala but considering this was a trip into the mountains you both decided it would be better to take the truck.

“So do you know about our room situation?” he asked, breaking the silence in the cab of the truck. You shrugged “Charity got a headcount and they blocked off that many rooms. Considering they think we’re a couple you’re fine sharing with me aren’t you?” “Of course, sweetheart. Even if you do snore” he teased with a wink. You shook your head and reached up to turn the radio up slightly and smiled when he started to sing along with the song “Bad moon rising” 

------

“Wake up Y/N. We’re here” Dean called shaking your leg closest to him. You sat up and nearly told him to turn the truck around. Yes the resort was gorgeous but the reality of going to your ex-fiance’s wedding was starting to set in. Dean reached across the console and grabbed your hand “Hey fake boyfriend or not I’m really here to back you up. I won’t leave your side all weekend unless you tell me to ok?” you managed a smile then questioned “What if you see a hot bridesmaid?” he shrugged “I’ll get their number for later” “DEAN!” you scolded causing him to crack up laughing “See? Changed your mood that quick” You rolled your eyes but grabbed your bag and followed him once he was parked.

The interior of the resort had a nice almost rustic feel to it. A large fireplace was roaring in the center of the lobby and you grabbed Dean’s arm to pull him along with you to check it out. “You’re already smiling. It won’t be that bad” you turned to tell him that five minutes in versus an entire weekend was too different things but stopped when you heard an accented voice call both of your names. You looked up to see Benny and his sister Elizabeth walking towards you. “Benny” you greeted with a smile as the two of you hugged. Once you pulled away from him you greeted Elizabeth in much the same fashion. 

“So Dean, brother I hear you finally managed to wrangle this one” Benny asked with a smirk. Your eyes widened at his wording..what did he mean by finally? You chose not to ask considering you’d told Micheal the two of you had been together for nearly a year. Dean, ever the fast talker, simply slid an arm around your waist and winked at Benny “Things worth having take time don’t they?” you could feel a blush threatening to warm your cheeks and shot Elizabeth a grateful smile when she said “Leave her be boys. Y/N we need to catch up but for now I’ll drag my brother away so the two of you can get checked in and squared away”

After the two of them had walked off you looked at Dean who still had his arm around you holding you close to his side “What did Benny mean?” he shrugged “Who knows with Benny?” then moved to grab your bags then nodded towards the front desk “Let’s get checked in”

------

Your room was on the third floor so you took the nearest elevator up and thankfully it was empty. You leaned your head back against the wall then rolled it over to look at Dean silently cursing yourself for ever putting the two of you in this situation. You weren’t exactly ugly but damn the man looked like a walking wet dream when he was doing the most mundane tasks and you knew for a fact the suit he had brought for the ceremony was a Tom Ford black herringbone three piece. You’d seen him in it twice before and every woman and a good amount of the men in the nearest vicinity looked like they’d throw themselves under a bus to have a chance to see him without it and now here you were having to play it off like you had. “You’re thinking loud enough to give me a migraine” he spoke pushing off the wall when the elevator came to a stop. You shrugged “Just thinking how many more people are we gonna know that’s here, meaning how many are gonna ask about us being together after this weekend” “Let’s enjoy this weekend then we’ll worry about the rest” he replied with a wink motioning for you to step off first when the doors opened.

You checked the room numbers until you got to yours. You slid the key card in then stepped inside opening the door further for Dean since he’d insisted to carry your bags too because in his words “Yes you are more than capable but dammit I am a loving fake boyfriend”  You were in the living room area of the suit and it was nice, had a small couch against one wall with two overstuffed chairs sitting across the room next to a fireplace and a large tv on one wall. Dean let out a low whistle and sat your bags down in front of the couch “So far, so good. Want to check out the bedroom?” you ignored the warmth in your face to follow him to the bedroom door and cursed under your breath when you saw the kingsize bed. “I’ll um take the couch” you offered but he raised an eyebrow “We’re adults Y/N. I think we can share a bed. Besides this thing is big enough we won’t even be near each other unless we want to” he added a smirk at the end and you rolled your eyes feeling some of your nerves start to melt away at the simple fact of Dean being Dean.

 “Fine but you snore and I’ll put a pillow over your face” he nodded “Fair enough” then grabbed your hand “Get a thicker jacket on. We’re gonna go check out the grounds” you didn’t have time to argue before he was pulling your jacket out of one of your bags and slipping it onto your arms. 

------

The two of you spent a few hours simply walking the different paths around the resort. Dean was always big on the outdoors and you loved the snow so it was something that you both found joy in. You ended up taking several photos of wildlife including a squirrel that took a liking to Dean.

When the sun started to shift in the sky you tried and failed to hide a shiver from Dean. He was immediately pulling his gloves off and holding them out to you. “I think that’s our clue to head back” you slid the gloves on then nodded “Yeah”

You walked along next to him and was a bit surprised when he reached out to lace his fingers in with yours. You glanced down at your intertwined hands and he shrugged “That way we keep both of our hands halfway defrosted” you bit your lip to try to hide the smile you had at the action. What the hell were you doing to yourself? You had simply tried to duck out of an awkward conversation with an ex and were now risking one of the closest friendships you had.

Your attention was drawn by Elizabeth’s voice. You looked up about the time the brunette nearly barreled into you “Liz! Calm down honey. What is it?” you questioned. She cut her eyes at Dean then smiled sweetly “Stand right there Dean. I won’t keep her long” Dean had a curious look but nodded nonetheless.

You let her pull you a couple feet from Dean before asking “What is going on?” “Lisa is here” you felt your heart hit your feet at that. Lisa was Dean’s ex and the closest he’d ever gotten to marriage. She’d played him dirty though by using her son Ben as a bargaining chip. Once Ben got old enough to go off to school she’d lost that chip but you knew Dean’s feelings for her had in fact been very real. “Oh” you said softly which caused Elizabeth to shake your arms roughly “Oh? Oh as in you aren’t worried or oh as in I should start a fight with her sister just to give you an excuse to knock her out?” You let out a surprised laugh at her offer then said “Oh as in I’m not worried” you looked over your shoulder at Dean who waved when he saw he had your attention then added softly “Not very worried anyways”

-----

Elizabeth went in search of Benny so you and Dean headed back inside. He was asking if you wanted to hit the dining area or just get room service. You wanted to go ahead and tell him Lisa was here but if everything was going to implode you might as well enjoy a little before it did right? “I’m thinking room service and maybe some horror movies?” you suggested as the two of you walked towards the elevators. He pulled you into his side and left a kiss on your temple “That’s my girl!”

------

You left ordering the food up to Dean while you took a shower and you started to wonder if you should regret that decision when you walked into the living room. He had a fire going and there were plates on nearly every surface. “Are we barricading ourselves in here? Did the apocalypse start while I was in the shower and if so can I claim Daryl?” He looked up from scrolling through the movie options to laugh humorlessly “First off I’m like so much better looking than him and I just decided that we’d try a little bit of everything in case the rest of the weekend gets to be too much and your stomach does that nervous thing where you can’t eat without getting queasy” 

Damn he remembered that? Guess it shouldn’t surprise you but even Micheal had never paid too much mind to that. “Well in that case pick the first movie and let’s get this marathon started”

------

Dean knew you’d never make it through the entire list of movies the two of you had picked. Halfway through the Texas chainsaw massacre you were curled up next to him with your head laid over on his shoulder. He missed times like this. After you and Micheal had first split and you stayed with him this was a weekly occurrence. The two of you would stay up most saturday nights, watching the cheesiest horror movies and eating the weirdest take out you could.  You’d always fall asleep on him and he would always just get comfortable and sleep on the couch as well to have you close to him. His feelings for you had already been apparent by the time him and Lisa finally called it quits but you’d been with Micheal. After the breakup he hadn’t wanted to be seen as trying to take advantage so he was content with the best friend role. He’d date and see you date but would always hold his breath when you’d hit the couple weeks mark with whatever idiot you’d be currently seeing in hopes you’d kick the guy to the curb and you always did. 

When this weekend had come up you’d expected him to laugh at the idea but he’d jumped at. Maybe if he had some alone time with you in a place as gorgeous as this he could finally put words to his feelings and maybe just maybe you felt the same.

------

Waking up on the couch with Dean’s arms around you felt like a dream until you remembered just why the two of you were here and what Elizabeth had told you the night before. You turned to look up at him and smiled seeing his face so relaxed. His mouth was open just slightly and his hair was tousled from moving around in his sleep. You weren’t sure how long you’d been staring at him when a smirk slipped onto his face “Staring is a little creepy honey” you rolled your eyes and slowly started to sit up “I wasn’t staring I was simply making sure you weren’t drooling on me”

He opened one eye and smiled at you “Are you asking me to get bodily fluid on you?” “I swear to christ Dean!” you scolded but he started laughing and pulled you back down next to him “Shh go back to sleep. Breakfast runs for another two hours and there’s no wedding stuff until the snowmobile ride around one then the dinner at seven” You cut your eyes up at him and took a deep breath before saying “I need to tell you why Elizabeth found me last night”

He sat up slowly opening both eyes and yawned “I’m guessing not just to get help burying Benny in snow?” you shook your head “Um well you know a lot of our friend groups and Micheal’s are intertwined” he nodded so you finally bit the bullet “Lisa is here” “Oh” he stood up off the couch rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. There were too many emotions playing through his eyes to pick out just one so you took the opportunity to say “I’m gonna grab a shower. Charity asked for some of the female guests to come pick out corsages so none of us are left without flowers so I’m going to meet up with Liz to do that”

You quickly walked out the room before Dean could see the look in your eyes at his reaction upon hearing Lisa was at the resort. Well at least thursday had been fun. You simply had today and tomorrow to get through then sunday you could head home.

------

By the time you got out the shower Dean was sitting on the foot of the bed with his toiletry bag next to him so he could shower next. He glanced up when you walked out and smiled “So are you and Liz gonna meet up with me and Benny for breakfast or are we left up to our own devices?” you shrugged and grabbed your thinner jacket since you planned to be indoors until the snowmobiling later. “Why don’t you two go without us and we’ll meet up later?” “You don’t think I’m gonna leave you high and dry just because Lisa is here..do you?” you opened your mouth to reply but someone was on your side because Elizabeth chose that moment to text your phone “I’m outside your room babe” you showed him the phone and he nodded “Find me after you pick flowers..please?” you smiled “Of course” then nearly ran out the room.

------

You forced a smile onto your face as you followed Elizabeth into the room where Charity had the florists set up. You really did think it was a cute idea that she didn’t want any woman in attendance to be without flowers even though it was her big day.

You stopped the moment you stepped into the room and spotted Lisa talking to Charity’s sister Alice. “Well look what the cat dragged in” Elizabeth muttered under her breath and you bit your lip to hide the smile “Let’s just check in with Charity, pick our flowers and get the hell out of here” she nodded looping her arm in with yours. The two of you headed for the table lined with daisies,sunflowers and lilies. “What were you thinking?” she asked, picking up one of the flowers off the table. You shrugged “Something simple Liz, my dress is dark blue and Dean’s suit is black” “Is it the three piece Tom Ford number? He always did look amazing in that?” Lisa’s voice came from behind you and you felt your spine stiffen at her voice.

Elizabeth cut her eyes at you as you turned to face Lisa with a smile on your face “Matter of fact it is. Nice to see you again Lisa. How’s Ben?” her smile faltered slightly at your mention of him. “He’s doing fine, can I ask you one thing?” you nodded slowly “Even if I say no you’re gonna talk anyways so I might as well agree to it to keep things civil for Charity and Micheal’s sake”

You saw Elizabeth move out the corner of your eye coming to stand directly next to you and you then realized Lisa’s sister Tabitha had come to stand behind her. You weren’t doing this. You and Micheal had ended on a good note, Charity was a good person and you were going to have to be pushed really far to act stupid during their weekend. “Were you screwing him when I was with him or did you just wait until Micheal woke up about you?” “You know what Lisa..” Elizabeth started but was stopped by Alice stepping between you and Lisa “Braeden, Y/N is a guest here same as you are. If the two of you have issues with each other we have a big resort here take it outside or get over it”

You stared Lisa down as you told Alice “I have no problem. I’m here for Micheal and Charity. They invited me” Lisa plastered one of those smiles that could only be described as how Lucifer smiled at Eve in the garden “No issue from me either” Alice nodded and smiled at you “How have you been Y/N? Did you and Elizabeth find the flowers you wanted?” you shook your head still looking at Lisa over her shoulder. She gently touched your elbow and led you back to one of the tables. “Tell me what colors you and Dean are wearing and I’m sure we’ll find something that looks amazing. You too Elizabeth”

------

After you and Elizabeth were through picking flowers she asked if you wanted to grab breakfast. “Just the two of us?” you offered and she shrugged “Up to you. We can find your honey and my brother if you want or we can just catch up?” you smiled “I like the idea of catching up. Dean and Benny are big boys. They can be left alone for a little while” she smiled in return and grabbed your arm “Well then come on ma’am”

-------

You were sipping on your coffee when Lisa walked by your table. She was still staring you down but you refused to do anything to mess up a friend’s wedding weekend. “You know I’m starting to think she’s more jealous of Dean having you then you having Dean” Elizabeth scoffed and you coughed around your coffee from the laugh that pulled from your lips. “I really need to get down to Louisiana more often. I forgot just how much fun you Lafittes’ are” She winked at you over her own coffee cup “Especially around Mardi Gras”

You were about to leave to go change for the snowmobile ride when a plate was set down on the side of yours and Elizabeth’s table. You cut your eyes up at the person who’d sat it down and it was Tabitha. “Lisa said since you enjoy her leftovers so much she figured you may want more” you took a deep breath then stood to face her eye to eye “Tell Lisa if she has an issue with me she needs to be woman enough to deal with it when it’s not conflicting with other plans. Now she want to hit me up next weekend? I’ll gladly whip her ass” you heard Elizabeth snicker under her breath and Tabitha looked scandalized “Are you even with him? I mean you’re not really his type” 

Elizabeth was to her feet in a flash “You little..” but you stopped her with a hand then smiled at Tabitha “What? Not manipulative enough?” with that she seemed dumbfounded so you turned back to Elizabeth “Let’s go get changed”

------

Elizabeth’s room was on the same floor as yours and Deans so the plan was to change then meet up at the elevator unless one of you ran into one of the guys first. You unlocked the door and stepped into your room breathing a sigh of relief to see Dean was in fact not there but your phone went off with a text from him “Dammit we have looked everywhere for you two. Where did you get off to?” you rolled your eyes and sent back “I’m lost come find me” before laying the phone down to dig out different clothes.

You were pulling your boots on when you heard the door of the room open then shut followed by Dean calling your name. “In here!” you hollered and he poked his head around the door holding his phone up  “That has never been funny. Elizabeth told Benny where you were” “Snitch” you mumbled standing to grab your jacket. You could feel him watching you and cursed under your breath when he asked “What’s wrong?” you shrugged and tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm “Come on darlin. I know that look something is up” you nodded “Yeah your ex is a fucking bitch and needs to be glad that we’re at a mutual friend’s wedding” “What did she do?” he asked dropping your arm like the mere touch had burnt “Everything from saying how good you’ve always looked in that one suit to asking me if I was screwing you when the two of you were together to sending her sister over to mine and Elizabeth’s table to give me her leftovers from breakfast followed up by reminding me I’m not your type” when you were met with silence you laughed humorlessly “I think I’ll get Benny to come grab my bags and just stay with Elizabeth the rest of the weekend. We can tell everyone we split and if need be I’ll pay their gas to swing through to take me home on their way” “You don’t have to do that” he offered but you’d already turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears in your eyes “Yeah. I do because this was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had” you grabbed your jacket and pushed past him out the room.

You nearly mowed over poor Benny who reached out to steady you “Woah there. Where you headed like that?” you figured might as well bite half the bullet at least “We just broke up will you bring my bags to Liz’s room?” he seemed more than a little confused but nodded “Want me to smack some sense into him?” you shook your head with a watery smile “It was bound to happen. I’m not really his type” then walked away from him to find Elizabeth.

------

You ended up dipping out of the snowmobile ride. You told Charity you were having a bit of motion sickness and bless her she’d gotten one of the staff to bring you some medicine.

You and Elizabeth had decided on one of the nature walks instead. “So what happened?” she asked and you shook your head “I told him what happened with Lisa. He didn’t respond” “I’m sorry honey” she replied pulling you into her side with one arm. You shrugged “Was bound to happen anyways”

When you finally pulled your phone out after the two of you had been wandering the trails for nearly two hours you had fifteen texts from Dean and even a few from Sam and Eileen wanting to know why their brother/brother in law was texting them to get them to text you to text him. Confusing huh?

“Maybe he’s sorry?” Elizabeth offered but you shook your head “I’m not holding him up. Who knows maybe Lisa is right. Maybe he does still want her” the words themselves felt like a hot knife twisting in your gut but you weren’t going to let it show. You could get through this and avoid Dean as much as possible until the sting went away. 

------

At dinner you told Elizabeth you weren’t feeling well but talked her into going to dinner well after you made her promise to not blow up at Dean, Lisa or Tabitha. You left her with Benny in hopes he would see that she kept that promise then headed up to her room.

When you opened the door Benny had laid your suitcase and smaller bag on the couch. You called room service to get some food and to see if you could get an extra pillow and blanket so you didn’t have to steal one off her bed.

By the time Elizabeth got up to the room you had already eaten and showered and was curled up on the couch watching a movie. She smiled at you the moment she walked in the door “He’s clearly upset” you sighed and patted the cushion next to you “You’re welcome to come watch Liz but I don’t wanna talk about Dean” she nodded “Fair enough” and kicked off her shoes to come join you.

------

“I fucked up man” Dean told Benny with a shake of his head. “You think? Man you’ve been telling me for how long how you feel about that girl then you what? Can’t even manage to say fuck her about your ex?” Dean shrugged because he honestly had no idea why he hadn’t said anything about it when you told him of the confrontations with Lisa. “How do I fix it?” he asked and Benny laughed “Beg? Then beg some more?” “You know what Benny? You’re such a help”

Lisa and Tabitha walked into the bar about that time and Benny bumped Dean’s arm forcing him to look up right before Lisa walked over to them. “Dean, I hear you got tired of Y/N already. Want a real woman again?” Benny rolled his eyes at her words then cut his eyes at Dean. As much as he liked him he liked you too and if Dean wouldn’t speak up on your behalf he damn sure was going to. “Real woman Lisa? You mean a liar, manipulator and cheater? Y/N has been one of my closest friends for as long as I can remember. When I needed her she was there, when Sammy, Bobby, Ellen hell anybody needed her she was there. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She fights for those she cares about, she takes care of everyone she can. She’s strong but still soft and I love her” 

Benny’s eyes widened at Dean’s confession and Lisa looked like she swallowed a frog “You love that?” Dean stood off the stool at her words and smiled “Sweetheart there was never anyone but her”

------

You and Elizabeth were wandering around before the ceremony. You were dressed complete with flowers. The people loitering around the lobby looked like they belonged in one magazine or another at a newsstands. You spotted Alice and walked towards her with a smile “How’s Charity?” she laughed nervously “Scared?” “She’ll be fine. Your dad walking her?” she nodded so you added “Just tell him to have a good grip on her arm just in case and tell her to keep her head high. She’s beautiful and we’re all here for her” She smiled “Thanks Y/N” “Anytime”

Elizabeth had watched you talk to Alice and when you got back to her side she asked “How are you that good talking about your ex-fiance’s soon to be wife?” you shrugged “hindsight twenty twenty? Me and Micheal didn’t belong together. He just figured it out before I did” She nodded slightly “So who do you belong with?” 

You could feel your cheeks threaten to warm as you thought about Dean. The way he made you feel when you’d wake up next to him or how he always went out of his way to make you laugh. How he always took care of everyone around him but resisted when it came to allowing someone to take care of him because he still wasn’t used to it. You were in love with him and had now possibly lost even his friendship. “Who I want I can’t have” you finally said and she asked “Why not?” “He doesn’t want me” you replied but froze when you heard Dean’s voice behind you “Are you sure about that? Because really if a guy has a shot at you and doesn’t take it he needs his ass kicked”

You looked back at Elizabeth but she was grinning at Benny “Oh dear brother of mine! Let’s go check out those nifty little stands they have set up near the doors!” you watched the two of them disappear then looked back at Dean “I never should’ve asked you to pretend this weekend” he nodded then smiled “And I should’ve admitted the reason I agreed was to get to spend some time with you so maybe I could figure out if you feel the same way about me that I do about you. Me and Lisa we never would’ve worked for the same reason you and Micheal never would’ve worked. I found who I want to be with and it’s you” “Dean please tell me you aren’t screwing with me right now” you whispered grateful the two of you had moved to the edge of the room where no one could overhear. “I’ve never been more serious about anything” you patted at the tears threatening to spill from your eyes “Christ I’m glad Liz had waterproof mascara” he bit back a laugh and motioned to your face “Those good tears?” you nodded “If you’re serious come kiss me Winchester” a smirk slipped onto his face “Don’t have to tell me twice” 

@brilovesdeanwinchester @akshi8278 @bolontiku

@girl-next-door-writes

[winterscaptain]

constellations.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: as usual, an ajf fic that requires very little context. i’m so sorry this took so long!! i was busy thinking about how to quit my job this week and then KIRA CAME TO VISIT ME (we’re being safe and covid-conscious!) so this took a couple of days longer than expected. also - i see your beautiful messages! i will keep chipping away at them :)

you can expect the route 66 fic on tuesday at 11pm pdt!

words: 4.4k warnings: canon-typical discussions of violence, some mention of canon-typical sexual assault, language

summary: as hotch recovers from the explosion in new york, you find yourself more concerned than you expected. (au!2008)

masterlist | a joyful future master list | requests closed!

“The Angel Maker. I remember the case.” 

It’s a fairly normal start to the week, with a case packed and ready for you at 10am. Aaron was out of the field for a week or so with his injuries, but his presence at the round table and the go bag you spotted beside his desk this morning warms you. 

He’s back. Not completely, but that’s better than not at all. 

“They caught that guy.” Reid’s flipping through the case file, but you know he’s got one ear open. 

Rossi’s on the same page, and finishes Reid’s thought. “And executed him.” 

“That’s right,” JJ says. “He was put to death by lethal injection a year ago yesterday.” 

You release a little breath you were holding. “Yesterday?”

That’s a clear enough trigger for a fanatic. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen something like this, either with your tenure at the BAU or in previous case studies at the academy. It was always a little shocking - the lengths people go to complete the work of the devil they romanticize...

Derek throws a finger at you as if to say Exactly. “So we’re looking for a copycat.” 

“Honoring the anniversary of his hero’s death.” Dave sits back in his chair, almost satisfied. You smile a little. 

The confidence of a seasoned profiler. 

Aaron catches your smile, and his lips pull just the barest amount. You shake your head, suppressing a wider grin. 

Funny, isn’t it?

His brows tug. What?

It’s so...normal. And so predictable. You sit back, peering at Aaron over your copy of the file. He huffs (you recognize it as a laugh, though the rest of his face remains exactly the same) and turns his attention toward Reid, who’s still flipping through the file. 

“It says here they found semen at the crime scene. Perhaps locals will get a DNA match through VICAP?” When you follow Aaron’s gaze to Spencer, you’re not surprised to see him already absorbed in the latter half of the report. 

“See, that’s where things get weird.” Her face screws up. “They already ran it, and got a match.” She throws the file toward you, and you open it. 

“If they already have a name, why’d they call us?” Emily’s confusion is swallowed up in your own. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You look over at Hotch, who takes the file from your hands. “The match they got back on the DNA is to Courtland Bryce Ryan -” 

Hotch lets out a sharp huff. “The Angel Maker.” You meet his gaze again. 

This is going to be a weird one. 

“Wheels up in thirty.” 

+++

You lean against the back of Hotch’s chair, peering over his shoulder as ideas bounce around the cabin. He’s focused on Reid along with the rest of you as the younger agent spins a theory. 

Derek’s the first one to question his particularly amusing line of thought. “Reid, you’re not seriously floating the idea of an evil twin, are you?”

“No. I’m floating the idea of an eviler twin.” Reid looks dead serious, and Hotch glances up at you. You shake your head a little, and he shrugs before restoring his attention. “Traditionally the concept is good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, eviler twin.” 

You swallow a laugh as both Derek and Emily look at him like he’s grown three extra heads all at once. 

Before any of you can say anything, Aaron’s hand rises to his forehead and his face scrunches up in pain. You place a hand on his shoulder from over the seat, patting him for his attention. “Hotch?” 

He hums something that sounds like, “Yeah?”

“Are you cleared to fly?”

He sucks in a breath to cover a wince, and you take that as a no. 

You sink your hands into his hair as he tips his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. The tips of your fingers find the little pressure points around his head, and you lean forward, keeping your voice soft. “Does that help?”

He nods, just a little, and you’re satisfied. You look at Derek over Hotch’s head, and he looks just as concerned as you feel. 

+++

“I give you a legacy. A breath of life from the Angel Maker himself. Those who prayed to forget me will one day see my face and shrink in fear.” Reid recites aloud from the letter, and you listen with your head propped on your hand. 

The sheriff sighs and crosses his arms. “That’s the last thing people need right now.” 

“Reid, how does that compare with the original correspondence?” Derek ignores the sheriff, redirecting his attention to the letter and the genius holding it. 

You jump on Derek’s line of thinking. “It can’t be authentic, can it?” You drop your hand from your chin and lean toward Spencer, feeling Aaron hover over your shoulder. 

“They share some compelling characteristics. I’d obviously like to look at it under a magnification under a better light…”

Obviously.

Hotch’s voice almost startles you, right by your ear. “Best guess, Reid?”

“I’d say it’s authentic.” Rather than looking at Hotch, he looks at you. Your furrowed brow speaks for everyone present. 

“How can it be authentic if the guy’s been dead for over a year?” Looking over at Hotch, you hope he has something better than paranormal speculation. 

He doesn’t disappoint. “It could be an elaborate forgery.” 

“Or,” Reid adds, “it could be a genuine article, just written before his death.” 

You hum. “That's my favorite of the theories so far.” 

The sheriff shakes his head, coming up on your other side. It’s almost comical the way you’re all crowded around the letter. “Mail here isn’t that slow.” 

Derek’s the only one who hasn’t joined you. He’s still happily posted up at the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed. You glance at him before offering, “Could have been released through an intermediary.”

“You mean the copycat?” Reid asks. 

Nodding, you suggest, “He could be buried in those visitor logs - we’re checking them out now to see who visited Ryan and how often.” 

Derek finally joins you. “That’ll narrow the suspect pool.”

Hotch flinches again and his fingers press to his brow as the front door opens, allowing the rush of a truck to sound through the room. 

“Hotch?”

He waves you off. “I’m fine.” 

Liar. 

There’s nothing you can do. 

+++

You’re with Derek in one of the interrogation rooms, going through letter upon letter from Ryan’s time in prison. “What happens if Hotch actually loses his hearing?” You can’t help the overwhelming notes of concern coloring your voice. “I mean, what are we going to say to Strauss? ‘Excuse me ma’am, if our unit chief goes deaf because he won’t fucking slow down, can he still be our unit chief?’ I mean - “

You shut your mouth as Hotch walks into the room. Shame floods through you. It was more than unkind to talk about him behind his back as it was, and here you were - broadcasting your worst fears about his condition to one of your closest mutual friends. 

“I’m sorry. I didn���t mean -” 

Aaron once again waves you off. “It’s alright.” He comes to rest beside you, and you reach for his arm in apology. 

“How are you feeling?”

He shakes his head, and Derek leaves the two of you alone, closing the door behind him. Hotch looks over his shoulder, satisfied that you’re on your own. 

“Dizzy. Nauseated. Tired.” It’s like a checklist - matter-of-fact and without bias. 

You take stock of him. The cuts on his face are healing nicely, and the bruise on his cheek is fading. The bags under his eyes, though, betray the lack of sleep. “What can I do?”

He shakes his head with something that isn’t a smile if you don’t know him. “Nothing. Just keep doing good work.” 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive earlier.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m just worried, is all.” Your voice tapers off at the end of your thought, just a little embarrassed. 

A little breath leaves his nose, and you know it’s sort of a laugh. “I know.” He presses a hand to your shoulder for a moment before diving into one of the boxes himself.

+++

Hotch walks quickly, and you keep up as best you can as he informs the sheriff, “I have to advise against this.” 

“All due respect, this isn’t your town. I have to convince them that Courtland Ryan is dead and buried.” 

Hotch glances back at you, and you shrug. 

Small towns. Serial killers. What are you gonna do?

The cemetery is relatively quiet, the sleepy town waiting for something to happen with bated breath. It’s not like anyone would be taking late-night walks anytime soon. 

His head tips, and you know he agrees. Nevertheless, he turns back toward the sheriff. “You’re indulging the killer by perpetuating the ruse he’s created.” 

Nice. Five dollar words for the two-bit sheriff. 

“He’s right. It may embolden him. Prompt more murders.” Emily says, watching the proceedings with a discerning eye. You can only agree. 

The sheriff shakes his head. “Celia lost her only daughter to that murdering bastard. We met when I was working the case and had gotten close. I thought we were past all this, but...I guess I was kidding myself.” 

The crane starts up, and there’s a sinking feeling that you’ve forgotten about something as the chains tighten and begin to lift the coffin. All at once, you remember and turn as Hotch steps away, his hand over his ear and the other pressed against his brow again. 

You hover beside him, not sure what to do. Pressing your hands to his forearms, you do your best to shield him from some of the sound with your body. 

He makes a weak attempt to wave you off, but his voice startles you. It’s so small as he insists, “I’m alright. I’m fine. Just -”

“Hotch -”

“I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay. Yeah.” 

You don’t believe him for a second, but as the noise decreases, so does his agony. He removes his hands from his ears for a moment. He’s blinking rapidly, looking simultaneously dazed and far too aware. 

“Aaron…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m fine. I’m okay.” 

Your lips press into a thin line and you remove your hands from his arms. “Take it easy. I can’t make your life hell if you can’t hear me, alright?”

Your teasing has the intended effect, and he levels you with his signature glare that’s only halfway playful. 

+++

“The victim is Maxine Chandler. The neighbors say she’s lived here her whole life. All twenty-eight years of it.” 

The house is infused with the presence of children - play structures, toys, the whole nine. Aaron voices your thoughts. “How many kids does she have?” 

“None of her own. She runs a daycare. The guy who called 911 came here to drop off his toddler and found Maxine in her bedroom.”

That’s an eventful morning. 

“Well,” you note, “now that we have more than one victim, we can compare victimology.” 

Hotch nods, and you meet his eyes for a moment. “Different data points should help us significantly narrow the profile.” 

“I’ll get JJ to bring us the files on the first victim.” Morgan says, his phone already in his hand. 

“What did you find?” 

The coroner runs you through his findings, and they’re not much different from the first murder, but there is one notable difference. 

“Nine puncture wounds,” Emily notes, her dark eyes roaming over the body. 

You’re close to Hotch, watching them bounce off each other. It’s always inspiring to watch them. As close as you and Aaron are, you were deeply impressed but his professional relationship with Emily. There’s part of you that chalks it up to your age - they are only two years apart. They form their own little age bracket on the team while you, JJ, and Spencer make up the younger strata. 

More often than not, the three of you were able to keep up with each other just like Emily and Aaron. 

“Can I have your pen?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.” Hotch pulls the pen from his inside pocket, handing it over into her eager hands. “What is it?” 

You wait as she doodles something into her notepad before her head whips up. “She did this.” 

“What do you mean?” You’re not following, and you can tell Hotch isn’t either. 

“The unsub. She made this before she made the puncture wounds.” 

Hotch tips his chin, understanding. “That’s why the coroner found paper in the wounds.” 

“It was a template. The Angel Maker did it from memory, but she needed a guide to get it right.” 

You pull your phone out, already dialing Reid as Hotch says. “We need to go back and re-examine each of the patterns. Where’s Reid?” 

“Spence. Hey. We have something for you.” You pass the phone and a little smile to Hotch, who takes both with a grateful look. 

Emily watches the exchange, feeling suddenly like an outsider - almost an intruder. There’s something between you two, always has been, but this moment is such a clean-cut outline of it. You’re constantly anticipating the needs of the other, ready with a warmth and fondness at a moment’s notice. 

She sees it again when he presses your phone back into your waiting hand. You take it and brush past him as he turns over his shoulder to follow you out the door. It almost looks choreographed. In fairness, you’d both done it what feels like thousands of times before. 

When you pause in the living room, both turning at the same time when Derek calls for Hotch, a shadow of a thought crosses her mind. It’s gone before it’s truly there, and she lets it go. 

+++

Reid’s finally cracked it, and you’re all crowded around him again as he explains what he’s found. He profiled the author, figured out the cypher used by the Aryan Brotherhood, and generally made use of his insane brain. The patterns themselves are constellations, woven into every aspect of their relationship. 

You find a smile breaking out over your face as you listen to Spencer spin. Hotch leans over and whispers, “He hasn’t let loose in a while, has he?” You’re standing on his left, of course, just in case. 

Shaking your head, you laugh a little. Emily’s looking at Spencer like he’s from another planet. She pokes him and voices the thought you’ve all had at least once. “He’s so lifelike.”

Her comment gets a laugh out of you and a smile out of Aaron. You’re warmed by it. 

+++

You clear and search Chloe Kelcher’s house, staying firmly attached to Aaron’s seven o’clock position, right off his left shoulder. 

“Alright. We all know what the endgame is. She’s looking for her final victim. She may have already chosen one.” Hotch looks around, suggesting assignments with the flicker of his eyes around the house. “Let’s tear this place apart, look for anything that might tell us who she’s targeted.”

You follow Hotch and Derek into the nursery, noting the stars on the ceiling. The crib captures your attention - the carefully placed onesie indicating the pain of a woman in denial. Your brow crumples, and Aaron steps up beside you, nudging a couple of stuffed animals out of the way as a cursory search. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just...thinking.” The trigger is as clear as a neon sign, and you’re sure much saner people would break down like this at the loss of a child. There’s a silent prompting as he stands beside you, waiting for you to elaborate. “I dunno. I can just see how someone close to reasonable would be in bad enough shape after something like this, not to mention someone as unstable as our unsub.” 

He sighs. “It must have devastated her to think that she could hold on to Ryan by having his child and then lose the baby.” 

Derek hums from across the room, joining the conversation. “Completing his murders became the only way she could hold onto him.”

Something strikes Aaron then - something intangible. He turns and opens the trunk in the corner of the room. Its contents pull your upper lip up in disgust.

With a dubious pair of eyebrows, Aaron notes, “Not the only way.” 

“Guess that answers that.” 

+++

You reach the final victim’s house, and you can only hope you’ve made it in time. Hotch immediately assumes authority, leading collaboration between the BAU and local law enforcement. He assigns Derek to find an opening into the house, while he directs the sheriff to bring all the cars to the front, no lights. 

He finds a megaphone for Emily, and you take your place at his left side, crouched to take the low firing point through the car’s open window. 

“Hit the lights,” he directs, and they do. 

All at once, it’s bright - nearly daylight. Emily starts talking, and you’re singularly focused on the front of the house. The windows, the door, and the curtains are all within your purview. You glance up at Hotch, who glances down at you. He unholsters his weapon, and you bump his hip with your elbow and return your attention to the front of the house

“Go into the pouch next to my extra magazines.” 

You can sense rather than see his frown. 

“Just trust me. Open it.” 

His left hand finds your belt while he continues to scan the area, unclipping the pouch without looking. You hear a huff of laughter as he finds what you left for him. 

“Put one in your right ear and don’t argue with me.” Your voice is still low, but you dropped into the tone you learned from him, only half-joking. 

He rolls his eyes and stuffs the foam earplug in his bad ear before unholstering his weapon. 

“Door,” you warn as the front screen opens.  

“Chloe. Drop the gun.” Aaron’s voice is heavy with authority, and the sheriff backs him up. 

The world slows down when she raises the gun toward you all, and the sheriff fires. Despite the earplug, Aaron immediately collapses, dropping his service weapon at your feet and covering his ears with his hands. You holster your weapon and turn toward him on sheer instinct. 

You retrieve the gun, checking the safety and slipping it into your waistband. When you return your attention to him, he’s almost folded completely into himself, pained groans leaving him. Rossi beat you to him, half-holding him up, but he shifts Aaron to you when you reach them both. 

“Aaron.” You wrap him in your arms and he takes some of his weight as his feet get back under him. He leans into you, and you do your best to support him. “Hotch, are you okay?”

He reaches out, finding your arm and gripping tight. You stay steady, almost in tears. It’s agonizing to see him in pain. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Liar.

+++

The next day, it’s decided he’ll drive one of the cars home, instead of taking the plane. 

You laugh as Derek throws the keys at Spencer. Hotch steps up beside you, throwing his go bag in one of the cars. Going out on a bit of a limb, you ask, “Want any company?” You keep your voice low, just in case anyone’s listening. 

First of all, you don’t want to out yourself in front of your colleagues - they all know how much you care about him and you don’t want them getting any ideas. Second of all, you know how Hotch gets when he’s alone too long. 

He raises his eyebrows for a second, but Dave interrupts his thought before he can share it with you. “Why don’t you two drive together? It’ll be a better trip with some company and you can’t stand the rest of us for more than three hours at a time.” 

Hotch snorts. “Fine.” He looks over at you and you shrug and throw your go bag in the backseat with his. 

“I’m good with that. What are you thinkin’? Straight through, or are we taking a the scenic route?”

Dave pipes in again. “I think a couple of days could do you both some good. It’s been a long few weeks.” 

You and Hotch look at each other. You look back at Dave. “Good idea. See you Tuesday?”

He nods and joins the rest of the team in the other car, slipping into the passenger seat. 

+++

The car is quiet for the first half hour or so. You’re driving - it’s the only way Aaron can hear you in the car, so you’ll probably nap or post up in the backseat when it’s his turn to take the wheel. 

You glance over at him before you hit the state line. “You’re thinking very loudly over there.” 

A smile pulls at his lips. The heel of his hand supports his cheekbone as his elbow rests on the window ledge. “Am I?”

“Mhmm.” 

He shrugs a little. “It’s weird not driving.” 

“Ah. So that’s why you’ve been silent for the last���” you check the clock on the dash, “thirty nine minutes.” You’re teasing him and he knows it, but it’s also loaded with questions. 

There’s silence, and you wait for him. It’s another thing you’ve learned about him in the last year. Sometimes he’s quiet, but he never avoids you for long. 

“I’m thinking about Kate.” 

There he is. 

You prompt him a little, intrinsically knowing he needs a direction. “Did she have family?”

He nods. “An older sister. She’s flying in from London for the service, but their parents are gone and she wasn’t married, so...that’s it.” 

Still looking at the road, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around his forearm. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.” 

His hand covers yours for a second. “Thanks.”

You pull back, adjusting your grip on the wheel. A question pushes at your lips, but you roll it around in your head before you really consider asking it aloud. 

“You can ask.” 

Your head whips toward him for just a moment. “What?”

“You can ask,” he repeats, the shadow of a smile crossing his face. “I know you want to.”

You concede with a little chuff. “Fine. What happened between you and Kate?” 

“In what sense?” He’s totally fucking with you, and you shove at his shoulder. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” 

He shakes his head. “Alright, fine. There was…” he searches, “a moment when she and I were finished working together on the Scotland Yard case that something...happened.” 

“Something?”

“Well,” he amends, “nothing actually happened, but let’s just say she had a couple too many and made her intentions very clear.” 

Can’t blame her for that one. 

Yeah, and that’s why we don’t get drunk with everyone else. Shit happens. 

You glanced at him, suppressing a smile. “So what happened?”

He shakes his head, and there’s a sort of dry humor in his voice when he answers,“Obviously, she was pretty out of it, so I took her back to her place and made sure she was settled for the night with a glass of water and some aspirin.” A smile cuts through his huff of laughter. You’re not surprised to hear mourning in it, too. “She was miserable in the morning, and called me to ask what happened the night before. I may have...very loosely implied that something small might have happened, just to save her the embarrassment.” 

He pauses, and you know he’s a little reluctant to be this vulnerable - you’re almost sure he never expected to tell this story to anyone, let alone you. 

“The attraction was mutual, so I didn’t feel too bad about omitting the consequences of her…” he searches for a word again, “forwardness. It was - is - something I respect about her both personally and professionally.” 

“Did you ever tell Haley?”

He shook his head. “I told her the truth - that she needed some help getting home, I set her up for the night, and came right back. She wasn’t thrilled, but she and Kate got on well enough that she didn’t mind too much. I think she was more annoyed that I got home so late even without a case, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

You laugh a little. “That sounds like her.” 

“She wasn't always like this, you know.” His voice takes on something a little more pensive, and you settle deeper into your seat to let him know you’re listening, even if your eyes hardly stray from the road. “We had a ridiculous amount of fun together when we were younger - first married, I was fresh out of law school, everything ahead of us, and all that.” He heaves a sigh. “It’s really only since Jack was born that things got...bad.”

He pauses, thinking for a moment. “I wish I could explain the work to her - I sometimes wish she could see it, even though I never actually want her to see the things we see every day.”

You keep your voice light, understanding. “I get that. It can’t be easy knowing that we’re your family, too, and even that’s difficult to explain.” 

There’s silence, and you know there’s a tacit agreement in it. 

His next comment comes a little from left field, but it makes you smile. “She likes you, by the way. She really does.” 

“Good.” You glance over at him. “I’m glad.” 

There’s something he wants to say, and you raise your eyebrows expectantly, knowing he can see it in your profile. 

“Would you want to come over sometime and spend some time with Jack? I -” he exhales, and tries again. “It’s sometimes...weird to have him all to myself.” He laughs a little. “I almost don’t know what to do with him all day when it’s just the two of us.” 

A real smile breaks across your face. “I’d love to.” 

He nods, satisfied with himself. “It’ll be nice for Haley to see you as well. I know she feels a little cut off these days.” 

“Understandable.” 

Another bout of silence fills the car. It’s comfortable. Safe. 

“Thank you,” he says, after a long while. 

You look over, letting your eyes wander down his profile for a moment. “Of course.” 

+++

You stay at a little motel off the highway, pulling over after about four hours on the road. It’s only a little ways back to Fairfax, where you’ll drop him off at home before returning the car to Quantico, but Rossi’s right - it’s nice to take some time. 

In two separate double beds across the room from each other, you wish each other good night in the dark. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @pan-pride-12 @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @katiejuliana @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @sapphicstars 

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Twelve

Link to Masterpost

I didn’t think I’d have this done so quickly, but here we are!

Content/Warning: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin getting stood up for a date

and

Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

~*~*~

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying exactly what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion—Manon, that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared and turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I like you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely love you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. Incredibly late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up.

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a run today to try and calm down. Who goes on runs?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how that fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear my ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how exactly do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. No.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my home?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do this.”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “Gods, that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me—yes, right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aelin, you have a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you haven’t brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he hadn’t heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about yesterday, Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been really bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she knew there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta yet.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a reason it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

[ur-jinji]

Heyo!! You’re incredibly talented and I was wondering if I could request a Sokka x Reader using the fluff prompts number 32 and/or 23? Anyway thank you so much and I’m glad I’m not the only one who also loves Varrick

a/n: AHH THIS IS SO CUTE OMG and thank you 🥺🥺 also us varrick stans are superior hehe

fluff prompts

23: “don’t get me wrong. i like the kissing. i’m all for the kissing. more kissing, i say.”

32: “your lap is my new favorite seat.”

good old fashioned lover boy

sokka x f!reader

college aged & modern au

summary: y/n was a firm disbeliever in love, but sokka helps in changing her mind

warning: mention of a cheating & toxic relationships

masterlist

Y/N never believed much in love.

She was never lucky when it came to relationships. Her first boyfriend cheated, and her second was manipulative and toxic, but she could see through that bullshit. She escaped those relationships with a few mental scrapes and bruises, but the experience matured and hardened her. Y/N decided she didn’t really want to try to find love anymore. If it came, it came, but either way, she was content. Her main goal was to just focus on looking out for herself. But, that ephinany didn’t last forever.

Enter... Sokka.

Sokka was Y/N’s goofy friend who never failed to put a smile on her face. He was always making attempts to hang out, in which she’d decline. He even went out of his way to beg his other friends not to show up the movies so he could be alone with her. It was no secret that Sokka was highly attracted to you. He made moves. Constantly. It started with flirty texts, telling Y/N how good she looked that day. He once even made the cringey “without me? ;)” text message when she said she was going to take a shower. The texts quickly turned into in-person flirting. He would call her “pretty” or “a snack” almost every time he saw her. He would also tease her, saying rather suggestive comments, have lingering touches, or try to play footsies under the table on nights out with their shared friends.

Unknowingly to her friends, but Y/N always bit back. It wasn’t always obvious, but she found herself being just as playful and suggestive. She wouldn’t lie, she was very flattered. She enjoyed the attention he gave her and the reactions he would give when she played along. She loved seeing him try harder when she gave him that signature look when he called her pretty. Y/N would even go as far as to admitting she found Sokka attractive. But, she always told herself to not let that attraction and excitement form into anything else. But little did she know, Sokka’s behavior was all out of love, not just the excitement of the chase. That kid was completely whipped. All he wanted was Y/N. He loved when she teased him back. He loved when she whacked his shoulder, trying to a hide playful smirk that would show she enjoyed it, but failing horribly. He loved when she would keep a blank face in front of her friends, attempting to hide that she was playing footsies back with him under the table. (There was an awkward conversation or two when she accidentally started touching someone else’s foot). Sokka loved it all.

Sokka’s heart nearly imploded the first time Y/N kissed him. She had been drunk, but when they woke up in the same bed together, she wasn’t repulsed and/or regretful like he was afraid she would be. But, he was disappointed when she gathered her belongings and secretly made a walk of shame back to her dorm and never brought it up again. The same exact situation happened two more times after that. The second time, Sokka realized that Y/N would always wait until they were alone. And that every time, she was drunk. It was like that was the only time she could be somewhat vulnerable and let her guard down. And he was right.

Y/N found it hard to publicly show any form of affection towards Sokka. She wanted to lie to herself, but she couldn’t. So, she lied to those around her. It was known by her friends that she despised relationships. But, she was really confused about her feelings, and wanted to always keep that guard up as much as she possibly could. What wasn’t well known by her friends was the fact that her walls would come down when she drank. Sokka was the only one who had any idea, and that was because he knew from personal experience.

Sokka was able to chip at Y/N’s wall when she agreed to hang out alone in his dorm not long after the final drunken hook up. They watched a movie and ended up practically spooning, but when his roommate returned to the dorm, Y/N didn’t waste any time to scramble away and put some distance between Sokka before the roommate would see. It’s not that she was embarrassed of Sokka. She was embarrassed of breaking the promise she made to herself.

Y/N found herself at Sokka’s dorm yet again a few days after that incident. He had brushed it off, putting the pieces together on own as to why she didn’t want anyone knowing. She sat down on the edge of his bed. Sokka was seated at his desk chair towards the end of his bed. There was an awkward silence that drove him crazy. He noticed her bouncing her leg, and her eyes nervously shifting around the room. He sighed dramatically and stood up, making his way over to the girl. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up.

“Sokka! Stop! Put me down!” Y/N squealed in surprise. She thrashed around in his grasp. He moved over to the desk chair and sat down, sitting her on his lap, his arms remaining around her waist. Almost immediately, she stopped thrashing and calmed down, seeming rather content. Y/N turned her head to look at Sokka.

“You’re so annoying,” She said, breaking a smile. She swatted gently at his shoulder, earning a smile from him.

“You like it,” He teased her, giving her waist a squeeze.

“You’re despicable!” Y/N shouted before giggling.

“You like it,” Sokka repeated.

“You’re right,” She admitted softly, breathing out a laugh and shrugging nonchalantly.

“We’ve just had a breakthrough. You admitted to liking something about me!” He exclaimed.

“You ruined it,” She told him before gently swatting his shoulder again.

“Disappointment,” He replied, jokingly looking sad.

“Stop. What do you want me to say?” Y/N questioned, throwing her hands up. Sokka nodded smugly.

“Something you’d never admit. Like, that my lap is the best lap. My lap is your new favorite seat,” He said, smirking. “We both know it’s true.”

“Again, you’re so annoying!”

“Mhm, just what I thought.”

“Fine. Your lap is my new favorite seat,” Y/N responded, secretly meaning it. “I guess it’s a little comfy.”

“Hah! I knew it,” Sokka declared, giving her yet another squeeze. “You’re fun to squeeze.”

“You’re fun to hit,” She replied before softly hitting his shoulder and giggling.

“Well, you’re just fun to be around,” He said, closing his eyes and giving you a thin smile that read ‘Yeah. I said it. What’re you gonna do about it.’

“You’re okay, I guess,” She admitted, meaning a lot more than she said.

“Hah! Another breakthrough!” He shouted before giving ANOTHER squeeze, this one tighter than the rest.

“Oh, hush,” Y/N said, then leaning in and planting her lips on his to silence him. Sokka responded very needidly, craving it. His arms unwrapped around her waist, and his hands replaced them. Their lips started to move a little faster, but Y/N pulled away with a smug look.

“Betcha weren’t expecting that,” She said before pecking his lips again quickly.

Sokka was at a loss for words. He was surprised his heart hadn’t leapt right out of his chest. Not only was this kiss amazing, but she DID shock him. This was the first kiss they shared sober. The wall she had built had been successfully dented.

“Jeez, if it’s that bad, you just say so,” Y/N said, closing his slightly gaped mouth by pressing a finger under his chin. “Guess that’ll have to be the last from me.”

Sokka cleared his throat.

“I’m just shocked you were the one to kiss me. Especially while sober,” Sokka explained.

Y/N shrugged. “Again, if it was that bad, just say so!”

“No! Don’t get me wrong. I like the kissing. I’m all for the kissing. More kissing, I say,” He started, leaning in and kissing the girl again for a moment. “I just don’t know what changed?”

“I don’t know, Sokka. I just trust you, I guess,” She informed, shrugging again.

“Y/N, I’m crazy about you,” He suddenly blurted out quickly. He wanted to facepalm himself for saying that out loud. This wasn’t going to be good. He knew it. The silence was deafening. Y/N was now the one at a loss for words.

“Please say something,” Sokka eventually muttered anxiously. She paused.

“I don’t know... I-I like you, too,” Y/N admitted just above a whisper, eyes darting around as if to make sure they were alone.

Sokka swore his heart stopped for a second. Was this really happening? Was the girl he’d been so infatuated with since the moment he met her really saying she liked him back? The girl who said she didn’t believe in love? The girl who said on more than one occasion that she’d be more than happy to be single for the rest of her life?

“Now you please saying something!” Y/N hollered, whacking his shoulder. Sokka had no words. No words could express how long he’d been wanting to hear those words come out of mouth. Hell, a text message would’ve been good enough for him! A passenger pigeon! Anything!

He placed lips on Y/N’s, kissing her passionately. She responded back to the kiss quickly with just as much passion, and even deepened it. Sokka moved his hands down to her hips. They stayed there like that for a while, taking in the moment that meant the world to both of them. Y/N had secretly been wanting this like Sokka had. They eventually separated, both breathing deeply.

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?” Sokka asked nervously. “Like, a real one. I take you to a movie and then we go out to eat and hold hands and stuff?”

“Yes, Sokka. Eventually. Give me some time to take all this in, okay?” Y/N responded, pecking his cheek gently. “I surprised myself here today, too, y’know.”

Sokka quickly nodded, grinning. He’ll take that.

“Another breakthrough!”

-

taglist: @missmorosis

[thran-duils]

From All Sides (P.6)

Title: From All Sides (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Pirate Tony. Tony is obsessed with a certain barmaid at port and showers her with gifts to try to bring her to his bed. She is resistant to his advances, her eyes elsewhere, specifically on her coworker, the cook. Although, that love is unrequited and always will be. The reader is forced into close quarters with Tony unexpectedly and sailing the sea, she slowly bends to his will. And he plans to give her all the affection he can to make sure she stays. Words: 2,280 Warnings (for the whole fic): Eventual smut, violence, angst, possessive behavior

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Where the hell is she?” Tony practically shouted.

They had made rounds around the inside of the cavern for the last fifteen minutes, looking in game rooms and cabins where she might be. Tony had ignored everything Steve was saying up until that point, on a rampage to find her. Much to Steve’s annoyance because he had an idea where she might be and even more so, annoying that Tony himself had left Y/N on the beach and was now mad she had wandered off. He had just wanted to drink and sit on the ship.

Grasping the opportunity of Tony standing still, Steve stepped into his sights.

“I’m sure she’s fine. Vanko said a dark-haired ‘boy’. It was probably Peter!” Steve blurted.

“Peter?” Tony demanded.

Steve saw the jealousy already swimming and he said, “Yeah. Who else would come swooping in to rescue her to make sure that no one took advantage of her? He knows she’s with you and he doesn’t want to piss his captain off. He did it for you! She’s probably with him!”

“Where’s his cabin?” Tony said.

<><><>

Peter walked with you down the sandy path. “And he just… left you down here? By yourself?” You nodded and Peter frowned.

“You don’t judge me?” you asked. He shook his head and a sad smile reached you. “I know many are not followers of religion here – myself included – but it seems the mere idea of… being with a woman would cause scorn. Casting me out.”

You had already spilled everything to Tony and telling someone else you felt close to felt now like nothing. You had held it inside for so long. And for how Tony reacted, you thought yourself perhaps wicked for how you had acted and you wanted to be clean with everyone. Peter was reacting far differently than Tony though. And that was not entirely shocking; Peter was not pining after you. He was objective.

Peter shrugged and said, “It does not bother me in the slightest. Eloise was nice.”

Nice. As if that was the only thing that mattered. Nothing else. It was so simple when he put it like that.

“Yes… she was.”

“Is,” Peter corrected, giving you a bump with his shoulder for reassurance.

“Right. Is.”

Peter asked, “Do you really want to go back to our home port? To see if she is still there? I mean… you said yourself that you did not think she would ever return the feelings. So… do you think it would be worth it? To go back to settle for that?”

You sighed heavily. You could read the undertone of his words. You had someone here that actually returned your feelings.

But then he cut you off at the knees of that thought about Tony.

“I mean, going back to port makes sense if you are looking to find Adam.”

Turning your head towards him, you met his gaze. And you could see he could see the remorse in your eyes.

His shoulders slumped and he asked, “Did you… were you never considering him?”

Reluctantly, you admitted, some tears coming, “I didn’t know how to let him down easily. He was so kind. I would feel guilty doing it, but I still felt guilty not doing it.”

“May I have your problem some day of having multiple people after me,” Peter said. Your face fell and he quickly said, “I did not mean for that to come off as crass. I can see it was hard. I was… just trying to make light. It was not the time. Sorry.”

The two of you walked in silence for a while. The waves lapped at the shore, coming close to your own feet. The sand was wet, and it felt good beneath your bare feet, your shoes held in your hand. The moonlight was reflecting off the sea, lighting the beach. You could stay here… truly. Just build a house up further in the rocks and always have the sea to look out at.

Peter was still quiet, waiting for you to initiate again. You cleared your throat.

“No. I know. I had multiple people. Some dropped off after a month or so, but they kept coming. Tony was constant. And… I knew. I knew this whole time if it was anyone, it was going to be Tony. And I don’t mean that in a last resort kind of way. It’s just the one that made the most sense. But like I told you, I’m afraid of being left behind.”

“Maybe he would not leave you behind? He’s already brought you on the ship.”

“Out of necessity. I’m sure that will change. And then I’ll just be left to wait for him.” You scoffed, suddenly angry again about your exchange with him earlier. “And he was so indignant that I loved anyone but him.”

“He’s a jealous man,” Peter commented.

“He is!” you agreed. “He cannot stand it knowing someone else was in my sights! Even Adam! He cornered him you know? I know he was threatening him. I didn’t heart it but I could see it in their body language. I was a prize for him, and he was making sure no one else would win me but him.” You inhaled deeply before admitting. “But what he said was true. I kept him dangling. Because I could not face the fact that Eloise and I were not to be. And I may have fueled his jealous behavior by continuing to flirt and giving him the hope he needed to be persistent.”

Peter looped arms with you and leaned in. “If he really likes you, he’ll get over it.”

You snorted, holding him tighter. “Tony? Get over a slight? I will live to see the day. He could not even handle it when men merely flirted with me at the tavern when he was at port and witnessed it.” You exhaled deeply and said, “I shouldn’t have told him about Eloise. I was pretty far deep in a bottle and thought maybe it would be okay, but I should have known then he would be envious. Even more so now that we have laid together.”

You suddenly blanched, realizing what you had divulged and shot Peter an embarrassed look.

Peter recovered quickly and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you happy though?”

“Mostly.”

“’Mostly’?”

“Yes. He will take care of me, is far too handsome for his own good, and he is kind enough to me. And is not… unskilled in the bedroom.” Peter’s lip upticked at the corner and you elbowed him with the arm looped, causing him to grunt before the two of you laughed. “I just wish he had not gotten so angry with me for telling him my feelings. He is possessive. And his anger is so easily lit. A very short fuse.”

Peter shrugged as if it was simple. “Then let’s just stay out. You and me. We have this whole ocean. And we can go lay on the grass up there when we are done and watch the stars.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“Trust me, Y/N. I’m not after you. Not to insult but I have my eyes set on the sea.”

You rolled your eyes, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“And there had been a girl at port.”

That piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Mary Jane.”

“The florist?” He nodded and you smiled, grasping his hand. “You two would make a fine match.”

“If we ever go back to port, she’ll be the first one I will look for.”

“Why not request to go back? We both have someone to look for?”

Peter shook his head. “No… I think I was driven from port with events beyond my control. Right now, I need to follow the tide.” You frowned and he shrugged. “If we are meant to be, we will find each other again.”

“I wish I was so easily able to go with the flow as you,” you told him.

Peter snorted now. He pushed you towards the waterline, your feet dipping into the wave that lapped at the sore. “Come on now! Have some fun! You deserve it!”

“We’re both drunk.”

“That’ll make it this much more fun! Come on. Tony was an asshole to you, and you need to blow off some steam!”

He was right.

You dropped your shoes onto the sand, further up away from where the waves would touch them, and he followed your lead. Bending over one foot at a time, Peter pulled his shoes off and tossed them. You tore your gown off, leaving you in your shift. Your gown fluttered to the ground closer but far enough away to ensure it would not be swept away.

The water was up at your waist before Peter swooped at you and drug you under with him. Your scream was lost as you closed your mouth at the last second to make sure you did not swallow any salt water. The water was reprieve, a cold bath.

<><><>

“Well, there she is,” Sam commented, stopping on the grassy path outside the cavern. They had been hiking up it to check around the island.

He pointed down the cliffs and found Y/N only yards away from where her and Tony had been down on the beach. And there was a dark-haired boy with her. Peter, it looked like. And they were swimming together.

Tony rolled his eyes to high heaven before turning around and making to go back down.

“We need that boy. The food has been so much better with him the last couple weeks,” Steve hissed at Bucky and Sam. “Please don’t let him do anything rash. He’s still beyond drunk! Be on my side!”

Without waiting for them to answer, he turned and followed Tony quickly.

<><><>

Storming up to the edge of the waves, Tony shouted, “Y/N!”

She had just surfaced and had not heard him. He bellowed her name again over the waves and she turned her head towards him.

Her expression darkened as she recognized him, brushing her hair away from her forehead, and she shouted back, “What the hell do you want, Tony?”

Tony bristled at her attitude.

“Get out of the damn water!” he demanded, coming into the waves. “Come to my cabin!”

“No!” she snapped, still holding onto Peter’s arms. Peter was looking at Tony uncomfortably, nervous. “You’ve made your feelings clear! I’m just a whore, remember! I should sleep in any bed!”

Tony started coming through the waves, his legs dragging in the current until he was almost knee deep, stopping again. “I will not have you sleeping anywhere but my cabin! Get. Over. Here. Now!” She huffed disobediently, and he shouted, “Before I lose my fucking temper!”

His shout seemed to get through to her.

She shot Peter a look before pulling away from him. He followed her still all the same and Tony fought the monster clawing away inside his chest. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, he yanked her to him and she stumbled in the water.

“If anything makes you look like a whore, it’s being in your underdress with a man under the moonlight! And not to mention, kissing another merely an hour before!” She opened her mouth to argue and he spat, “Save it!”

He demanded you pick up your dress and shoes. You angrily followed his directions, and he took a tight hold of your wrist again, yanking you close once more. Over your shoulder, he told the men he had brought with him, “We’re going to my cabin. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for your assistance. Please, grab one a bottle from the bar and put it on my tab.” They seemed to perk up that. His eyes fell on Peter and he sneered, “Get yourself dressed, boy. You’re going to be needed for breakfast sooner rather than later.”

With that, he pulled you behind him up the path towards the cavern again. But he was not taking you towards the cabins, he was taking you towards his ship. He was silent, ignoring your questioning. As soon as you were into his quarters again though, he propelled you in front of him, letting go. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance as he turned away and closed the door behind him. You threw your dress and shoes on the ground, pissed off.

He was on you in a second, a finger held up in warning. “I’ve had quite enough of your games, Y/N! I have been patient! I have given you choice and time and—FUCK! All the time in the world! You’re here with me now and that’s how it is going to stay! No more pussyfooting around!”

“I’m not pussyfooting—”

“This is where you stay,” Tony interrupted roughly, his finger pointed downwards at the hardwood of the cabin, his gaze burning into you. “You do not step foot off the ship but also, this room is where you stay!”

“I’m not a pet you can keep caged up!” you protested.

He closed the space quickly, fire burning in his eyes. “Watch me!” Tony snarled, towering over you.

You cowered back slightly, and he noticed. He was firm when he told you, “It’s just me. From now on. That’s all you get. If you really truly have feelings for me, this is your time to prove it. Stay in here! Like I just told you!” He leaned in to hiss, “Don’t test me, love! I’m done playing nice!”

He turned around furiously and strode out of his quarters, slamming the door behind him, and you jumped at the sound.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl