#Pink Champ Gaming Chair

[dira333]

Care for me - Kirishima x reader

For my Follower Celebration - Request was Wisdom Teeth Removal by @notsochillnerd

A/N: I love him, your honor

Kirishima isn’t one to get drunk often, but it’s not for the reason his friends think.

The one and only time it happened, you were there to witness it and he’d begged you not to share his secret.

Since you’re his girlfriend and you love him dearly, you couldn’t very much break that promise.

But no one said anything about having fun with it, right?

-

“Promise me you’re not going to take any videos!” Eijiro’s hand is curled around your thigh.

“I promise baby.” You soothingly rub your hand over his. “I’m sure it won’t be even half as bad as you think.”

“Baby…” 

He whines low in his throat and you know he only allows himself to make that sound because it’s only you and him in the waiting room. 

“Eijiro, I know you hate getting things done with your teeth, but I was fine, remember? You won’t feel a thing.”

He huffs a little and you grab his hand, pull it off your thigh. He tenses up for the second it takes you to swing your leg over his.

As soon as you’re straddling him, his hands find your hips and keep you in place as his head sinks forward against your chest.

“My baby,” you mumble into his hair as you drag your hands through it.

He hadn’t bothered styling it today, knowing he’d be out for most of the day anyway. You appreciate it, twirl a bright red strand around your pointer finger, and tug lightly. He grumbles softly, the sound vibrating through your body.

“Mr. Kirishima?” A voice asks from somewhere behind you. Eijiro tenses and you drop a kiss on the crown of his head.

“We’re ready.”

-

The dentist had been kind enough to let you stay with Eijiro until the anesthesia kicked in and his hand fell limp in yours.

“I’m sorry but I have to ask you to leave.” A nurse walks you out of the room. You take one look back. 

You’re not worried. Not when Eijiro looks so huge in the small chair, his shoulders so broad they don’t fit. He’s going to be fine.

-

You’ve got your phone set up by the time he wakes up. He blinks sluggishly, groans low in his throat, and raises his hands, no doubt to touch his swollen cheeks.

“Uh uh,” You move to intercept him, take your hands in his. “No touching.”

“Whu?” He asks, eyes slowly focusing on you. You can tell when his vision clears because a pretty pink blush drapes over his cheeks and burns his ears.

“Hi.” You smile at him. “Nice to see sleeping beauty wake up.”

“Sneepin buty?” He mumbles around the gauze in his mouth. He points at himself with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Yep.” You pop the p. “You’re my pretty boy. My baby.”

His blush intensifies in color. It’s almost as red as his hair now and he shyly averts his eyes for a second before he looks back at you. You know that game. You don’t take your eyes off him and he smiles, wincing when that hurts his cheeks.

“Careful.” You reach out your hand and caress the sensitive area with your hand. “It’s gonna take some time, but you did good, champ.”

He mumbles another question but before you can answer, the door slides open.

“Mr. Kirishima, it’s good to have you back. I’m afraid we have to clear out this room soon. How about we get you seated first and then move on to getting up?”

It’s slow progress, but fifteen minutes later Kirishima’s leaning heavily onto you as you wait for an Uber. 

His nose is nuzzling into your hair and he’s whining, low and needy, as you try not to falter beneath his weight.

“I’m here, I’m here.” You soothe him. You expected him to be whiny. By now you know that this side of him always breaks out when he’s in a predicament like this. Drunk, sick, hungover, waking up from anesthesia. While you hate for him to feel bad, you love this side of him. The side of him that asks for help, support, and touch instead of feeling like he’s the one everyone needs to depend on.

Just as the car pulls up in front of you, one large hand pulls up your shirt and slips underneath, pressing against your stomach. You squeak out in surprise. His hands are cold from the harsh fall weather.

“Baby.” You tell him as calmly as you can as he moves his hand, tickling you unknowingly in the process. “We have to get into the car first. You can put your hands under my shirt when we’re sitting, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He doesn’t listen though, just pulls open the car door and slips inside, hand still firmly attached to you as he pulls you after him.

“Wisdom teeth.” You explain to the driver, a woman whose dark green hair looks strangely alive as it moves around her face. She nods with a grin and says nothing when Eijiro pulls you onto his lap and buckles you up like that.

-

By the time you’re making it up the stairs to your shared apartment, Eijiro has figured out how to talk around the gauze.

“M hungry.” He whines.

“Okay, I’ll warm up some soup.”

“Cuddle.” He insists instead, pulling you toward the bedroom.

“Can’t cook in there.” You try to reason. He throws you onto the bed and follows suit, pressing his head onto your stomach instead. When you try to wiggle around, he grabs your hands and puts them on his head, nudging your stomach with his nose and a low hum.

“Please?” He asks, his voice vibrating through your stomach.

You sigh.

“So needy.” You huff but start massaging his head, tugging softly on a few strands when he tickles your feet in his attempt to get even closer to you.

Soon enough, it’s no longer enough for him. 

You anticipated it, in a way, since he craves touch more than anything when he’s like that.

It still surprises you when he pulls his shirt over your head, caging you in against his chest.

“Can’t breathe in here!” You complain and he pulls his shirt lower until your head pops out next to his, stretching the fabric to the point you can hear the seams rip apart.

“We can cook like this!” He declares, obviously proud of his invention.

And he means it.

Luckily heating soup doesn’t take that many steps but then it’s time to eat and Eijiro’s brows furrow in the way they do when he’s trying to figure out something difficult.

“If you let me out of this shirt prison, I’ll sit on your lap and feed you.” You propose and it takes him a full minute to weigh his options before he accepts.

-

After dinner you draw him a bath, knowing it will satisfy his need to stay close and tucker him out to the point he’ll fall asleep right after.

And you’re right, even though it means going to bed just as early because there’s no way you can get out of his iron grip.

-

Kirishima wakes up to the sound of his own voice, sluggish and slow.

For a moment he’s confused. If he can hear himself, is he still in his own body? And if so, why does his mouth hurt so bad?”

“Baby?” He mumbles, blinks against exhaustion pulling at him. He moves all ten of his fingers, relieved when he can feel your skin beneath them.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He can feel your lips press against his hair. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” He mumbles back and yawns, winces when that makes his mouth hurt even worse.

“What happened to my mouth?”

“You got your wisdom teeth removed, remember? There’s some pills for you on the nightstand.”

He turns his head. Indeed, there they are with a bottle of water. He scoots up to a sitting position, pulls you with him for good measure, and takes the pills.

The water, albeit lukewarm, washes away the last of his confusion.

“Did you watch a video of me?” He asks. 

You nod and pull out your phone. 

“I recorded you waking up. It’s so cute. My little baby.” You coo and for a whole minute, the video is just him, snoring softly.

Kirishima had known you’d do that. After all you’ve done it every time before.

And he might not want his friends to see him like this, but there’s something he can never get tired of - the fondness in your eyes when you watch a video of him, the pull of your mouth when you coo at what he’s doing, how you laugh when he blushes and pull closer to kiss his nose when the Eijro in the video and the Eijiro next to him in bed turn the same shade of red.

He’s not mad that you record him, not when he gets to see you fawn over him both in real life and in recording.

He might even get a little drunk more often if it means waking up with you like this.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[erodasfishtacos]

has harry ever come before yn? and how did he react to it

warning: um this is straight up filth, sorry (not sorry)

CEO!H

-

“Baby, c’mon,” He huffs in frustration, his thumb slips once again because she’s just so wet for him.

“M’trying!” YN bites back, “You’re expecting me to come in two seconds all because you got yourself worked up by rubbing your dick on my tattoo.”

Harry can’t deny even after a few years of the ink being on his wife’s bum doesn’t make it any less hot to him.

It takes one more harsh pump of his hips before he’s groaning and coming, his fingers faltering on her bud once again.

YN is whining - these displeased, spoiled little noises that prickle the skin on the back of his neck and grit of his teeth.

“Y’sucha god damn brat,” Her husband spits out, not even enjoying his release because of his impatient, perfect wife.

“M’not,” YN retorts as she flips onto her back and lays down, not even disgusting her pout.

“Out of the hundreds and hundreds of times I’ve fucked you and made sure y’finished first - the one time y’dont you want to get all huffing and bent out of shape.”

YN squints at him, because he’s not wrong, she chooses to bite back with a bit of attitude, “Well you had some clumsy fingers tonight.”

Harry barks out a laugh, spreading her legs roughly, and muttering, “I’ll fuckin’ show clumsy fingers.”

Then continues on to make her come twice if his fingers along just because.

-

MLBrry

“Oh my god,” YN giggles loudly when Harry curses as he spills inside her - legitimately after only about three minutes of being in her.

“Shut up,” He whines, ego bruised a bit as he pulls out with a look of betrayal at his already softening cock, “Y’looked so good in m’jersey at the game tonight. Flauntin’ y’tits like tha’.”

YN smirks widely, turning around from where he had her bent over their bathroom counter, “I know, I saw how many times you had to ‘adjust’ yourself in your uniform.”

Harry hauls her up until her bum’s on the cold marble and her legs are spread to show him where she’s dripping from him.

“Can’t help it. It’s nearly impossible not to come the second I’m in you,” He pouts, it was the truth - usually he had amazing stamina but every once in a while his body was a traitor.

YN let’s out a quiet sigh when he tucks two fingers back inside her, twisting and curling in the way that make her toes crinkle.

“You amaze me. I’ve given you four babies and y’still as horny as ever,” YN giggles pleased and confident because of her husband’s constant want for her.

Harry pushes forward to lick into her warm, sweet mouth before he’s resting his forehead against hers and watching his fingers work into her perfect heat.

“Only horny f’you, mama. Course s’just for my wife, m’so fuckin’ in love with you. In love with your body, this beautiful thing has given us our babies - how could I not be obsessed?”

YN comes panting in his mouth and a smug smile on her face when he hardens back up against her thigh in the process.

—

Deaf!Harry

Harry’s lips are bright pink and swollen, his narrow hips pushed against the tiny counter in the frat bathroom as YN kneels in front of him.

“Baby, baby, want to fuck you. If you blow me I’ll come,” He signs in warning, attempting to coerce her into standing up but she doesn’t budge.

Her hands are quick on his belt and skinny jeans, letting his thick length rest towards his tummy as she leans forward to lick at the head.

He wasn’t joking, right as she suckles harshly on the head with her hand stroking the rest - he flexes and released with a loud loud moan.

“Didn’t know my mouth was that good,” YN gestures as she stands up with a teasing lift to her lips, thumbing a lose drop.

“You know when you grind on me it gets me going,” He accuses to justify his short span, “Don’t act like you don’t come in a second when I have my mouth on your clit and three fingers up in you.”

YN swallows harshly at the dirty talk, startling when someone bangs on the door, stating the need to use the toilet.

“I’m totally telling Niall you came in legit two minutes,” YN signs before swinging up the door and disappearing into the crowd - leaving behind her flabbergasted boyfriend.

—

Vamprry

“My leg is cramping, H,” YN complains noisily as he keeps her leg lifted a she fucks in from behind as they lay on the bed.

Harry is so so close.

His annoying little creature wasn’t going to find her end because of a god damn leg cramp.

“Bat, just let me - oh fuck,” Harry snarls loudly as he can’t control himself any longer, fucking harshly into her a few more time before he comes.

Ad soon as he’s lowering her leg, he’s met by her displeased, grumpy whimpers that make him want to bite her until she’s limp or kiss her sweetly - sometimes he can’t tell which.

He drops her leg, planning to finish her off but she pushes his hand away which has him baring his fangs and snarling fiercely at her.

“No, I’ll finish myself,” She grunts, rolling onto her back and propping up her legs, one hooked over Harry’s thigh.

Every time he tries to reach over to help as she rubs quickly and precisely at her bud with short puffs of air - she smacks him off which makes him hiss angrily as he watches on.

“You’re like a million years older and you can’t control yourself still?” YN teases breathlessly as she feels a ball of fire start to pool in her stomach.

Her grin gets wider when his eyes blacken and his lip curls completely back to reveal his glimmering white canines.

“Pest, you are not doing it correctly. Let me make you come,” Harry demands with agitation, his hands clenching to not just grab her.

“Shut up,” She snaps back, two fingers rubbing in languid circles that have her hips bucking - it really shouldn’t turn her on that her vamp boyfriend is threatening her with his fangs.

“I rarely ever come before you. Please little human, you are annoying me and I wish to make you come now,” Harry tries to use a more gentle tone.

YN finally gives in, letting him take over with his own fingers, two tucking inside and his thumb right on her nerves.

His fangs ascend back into in gums as he admires his squirmy mate who is restless until she tense and releases on his hand.

It’s only a matter of second before she is coaxing his fangs back out - because she loves to torment him, “Better luck next time champ.”

“Enough,” He growls at an ear-shattering volume before he’s biting at her mating mark to get her to submit.

Works everyday.

—

Influencer!H

Harry was getting himself overly worked up, as soon as YN pressed record for a little something that she could watch when she had to leave tour for two weeks.

“Honey bee, c’mon,” Harry rasps, voice as deep as it goes as he sits in the armchair in their hotel room - legs spread and feet planted on the floor.

“Hold on, just want a shot of this,” She replies, he was so fucking hot - couldn’t grasp that this man was her’s sometimes.

He had a firm, lazy grip on his cock - thumb circling his extremely sensitive tip every so often which made him shutter.

“Slower, tease yourself,” YN murmurs as she films him, watching raptly as he slows down his strokes but fucks up into his hand.

“Want t’be in you, bee,” Harry tells his with a wrinkle between his eyebrows as he twitches in his palm.

“Then listen to me,” She orders in a voice she rarely uses - a authorative voice that has Harry moaning as he squeezes himself.

“M’listenin’, I promise.”

“Stop,” YN replies, eyes following when he releases his grip and it sways before resting on his taut belly - pink and swollen.

She props the camera on the desk, shimmying down her underwear, and straddling him on the chair - letting herself sink down.

“Oh fuck - baby, m’gonna - bloody hell,” He moans as he comes within seconds, hand squeeze her plush hips.

His forehead is sweaty, lips puffy, and YN is so pleased with him, whispering that he’s so fucking good for her, she can’t wait to watch it when she’s away.

-

Cheating!H

“Y’takin’ it so good, darlin’,” Harry grunts out, teeth gritted and hand grasping her jaw to keep her mouth against his.

YN was in a mood tonight.

“C’mon, we don’t have much time before Anna comes looking, H,” YN goads coyly, her plush hips digging into the counter where her bum is pressed against.

“Hush up, pup,” Harry scolds, biting at her swollen bottom lip before hiking her up a bit more to hit her spot right on.

“She’s gonna be so bummed, y’can’t get it up for her tonight after fucking me,” YN doesn’t stop with the filth.

“Y’act like I have ever fucked ‘er. I’ve only been givin’ it t’you for the past ten years,” He mutters, tongue licking into her mouth to shut her up.

When someone knocks on the door, they don’t stop, Harry determined as he pounds into her with hard, meaningful strokes.

“Harry, are you in there? Are you feeling alright?” Anna asks from the other side of the door - it was super loud because of the party.

He comes right then on the spot.

“You’re sick,” YN giggles, pleased as he pumps in a few more times to fill her up - claiming her as he always did.

—

Gang!H

It started with the god damn fucking teasing.

Rival gang members, the police, literally nobody gets under his skin - just his bloody nuisance of a wife and she took full advantage.

She got in these moods were she would fuck with him, tease him, wind him up until he had her pinned down with a sore arse.

He loved her so fucking much.

It started at the bar, she had leaned over with way too much cleavage on display as she fluttered her eyes to get men to buy her a drink.

Harry who was currently in the middle of a lucrative deal couldn’t concentrate as a man offered to buy her a glass of wine.

He didn’t care who saw, he excused himself and pushed her harshly into the bar until it would bruise her hips.

“Cut it the fuck out now, m’busy,” He hisses menacingly in her ear, ignoring the men who were staring wide eyes at the exchange.

Her hand comes back to subtly palm at his crotch before humming, “All these nice men are willing to pay attention to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry rumbles, gripping her wrist and moving it away from his groin with force.

“Whoa, man! You can’t talk to a lady like that!” A brunette gentleman squawks after watching the interaction.

Harry steps back, a sly smile rising the corner of his lips, and he purposefully lifts his shirt just a bit to flash a shining gold desert eagle tucked in his waistband.

The man’s eyes widen in horror which makes Harry chuckle darkly, “Don’t tell me how to treat m’fuckin’ brat of a wife, she fuckin’ loves it anyways.”

With that, Harry storms back to continue his meeting and YN grins, a little flushed as she sips on a glass of water - aroused beyond belief.

After a bit, YN disappears down the hallway to the restroom, and sends Harry a text that has him excusing herself.

Please help me. Woman’s bathroom, hurry.

Harry’s reaching back for his gun, not hesitation as he rushes down the hallway - heart pounding at the thought of his love in trouble.

He slams open the single stall bathroom, gun drawn but all he sees is his beautiful wife, on her knees with lust obvious in her body language.

“Y’tha’ fuckin’ desperate?” Harry scoffs, locking the door and placing his gun on the counter - already reaching for his belt and zipper.

“Please sir.”

It sends a harsh, electric zip down his spine as he hisses when his wet tip hits the cold air, he bends down first - forces her mouth open and spits.

But his words are soft and loving after, “Brat, love you s’much. Y’the love of m’life.”

Her eyes twinkle but she can’t speak because he’s guiding himself in her mouth with a long push that has her breathing heavily through her nose.

Harry surprises himself when he ends up spilling right after she pulls off for a breath and jerks him, rasping out, “I love living life with you.”

Yeah he comes at words and he isn’t fucking ashamed.

It has him pushing her up against the wall and licking her out until she’s teary from sensitivity and legs quivering pathetically.

-

👁👄👁

[devil-in-those-eyes]

Joke Part 2- Mat Barzal

Okay, I really didn’t think there would many people who wanted a part two, but if it’s wanted, there might be a part three. I hope you guys enjoy.

Warnings: None? Maybe swearing? I wrote the first half months ago, so my memory if foggy.

~

           “You’re leaving… already?” Jesse and Tito exclaimed together, not missing a beat as you slid you chair back from the brunch table and finishing the last bit of your coffee.

           “Not all of us can laze around on Sunday’s.” You answered with a smile, pulling your coat on and grabbing your purse.

           Everyone let out grunts and groans that sounded close to displease, but you shook your head and rolled your eyes. You waved goodbye to your friends and smiled at Jesse as he tilted his head back to grin at you as you passed but what, or who, caught your eye was sitting to his left.

           Mat sat with his back leaned into the chair, looking the most relaxed out of everyone with one hand in his lap and the other around the black mug of coffee. Dressed in a dark grey sleeve and black jeans, he looked delicious with his hair getting more unruly as the days went on, leaving his scruff and giving you butterflies the whole time.

           Mat looked up from his mug and at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You mumbled a goodbye, fighting to your cheeks from turning red and keeping a neutral smile on your face. You made your way out of the restaurant, ready to start running errands before you started your work week. New York was somewhat quiet, a small amount of people buzzing around and leisurely enjoying their Sunday.

           “Y/N, wait up,” You heard behind you after you got a few steps away from the restaurant.

           You turned in your boots to see Mat had just walked out the doors and walking towards you. Your heart clenched and pushed your hands into the pocket of your jacket, “what’s up?”

           “I, uh, what are you doing Tuesday night?”

           Your eyebrows pulled together, confused by his question as your head suddenly started whirling because was he asking you out? And if he was asking you out, what changed his mind?

           “You should come to the game,” he cleared his throat, his hands fisting inside the front pocket of his black jeans. “I know Jesse has an extra ticket, figured it might as well go to you.”

           Might as well. Almost like an afterthought, to keep the ticket from going to waste. Normally, you wouldn’t have picked up on his words like that but because you already felt inadequate compared to him and his women he chose to interact with, it was all you could focus on.

           “Oh,” you breathed, struggling hard to shake off the disappointment you felt because for a split second you thought he wanted to hangout. “Um.”

           “I just thought his ticket would go to waste,” Mat shrugged, playing it off sweet and innocent, as if he didn’t realize he was digging himself a deeper hole. “Jesse always talks about how much you like hockey.”

           You bit the inside of your cheek and took a step back, watching his eyes go a little confused as he watched your feet step back. “Maybe,” you answered, giving a tight smile. “Have a good day, Barz.”

           ~~

           Have a good day, Barz?

           How did Mat go from Maty, your knight and shinning armor one night, to being Barzy in a matter of less than twelve hours? Mat wasn’t entirely sure where he went wrong and for the next few days he kept going over Sunday morning, while trying to subtly stalk your Instagram. That Sunday morning was beautiful, he woke up with dusty cobwebs on his brain but the second he watched you walk into the restaurant in jeans and a comfy, oversized sweater, he was wide awake. You were quiet in your seat, chugging down coffee like a champ and keeping up with the twenty different conversations while catching Mat’s eyes every few minutes.

           Mat thought maybe things changed between the two of you Saturday night, he could still feel your body pressed against his, your warm hands against his chest. The second your hand cupped his jaw, your eyes pleading to walk away, he felt his anger melt away. You were warm against his hot blooded body, calming him down before he realized just how angry that dude made him.

           He really wanted you at the game Tuesday night, he wanted to see your face light up the second him and the boys hit the ice. How much Mat knew about you was because of Jesse, because his two best friends were in love with you and just rattled off facts. Mat knew about your job, who your top three hockey teams were (while taking deep pride that the Isles were your number one). He knew what music you liked and what you liked to do for fun. Mat paid more attention to you than you realized, but he had gone wrong somewhere, and he thought asking you to the game was his way of righting it. Except he faltered when you gave him a confused look and he fumbled over his words, feeling like a thirteen year old boy asking out his cooler and totally out of his league crush.

           “Have you ever considered just… I don’t know, maybe asking Y/N out?” Tito asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he and Mat sat in the locker room after the game.

           “You dick, I tried.” Mat answered, groaning. “It’s like she doesn’t even wanna give me the time of day.”

           “Huh, wonder why.” Tito mumbled, but Mat definitely heard him and clenched his jaw. “Listen,” Tito lifted his head and cleared his throat, “Jess and I wanna get drinks, why don’t you just… steal her away?”

           Mat stared at Tito, wondering if that would really work. He had no doubt that Jesse would be more than happy for Mat to take Y/N off his hands, considering Jesse mentioned them getting together every chance he got, but would Y/N really go off with him? She seemed distracted and distant two days ago. Mat wanted to reach out, something was drawing him to her and he just wanted to keep talking to her, but he didn’t have her number and didn’t want to deal with the way Jesse would look like a Cheshire cat when Mat asked for it. So, he settled for hoping that you’d show up to the game.

           And to his shock, you did. It wasn’t like you haven’t been to games, because you’ve been to plenty to support Tito and the boys, but now Mat was one of the boys you were supporting and it made his heart flutter knowing that.

           Tito and Mat walked out of the locker room, just after Matt and Sydney bid their goodbyes to Jesse and you. You looked cute, already bundled up for the early November snow in your tan pea coat already done up, your hands holding the New York Islanders knit pom hat that Jesse got for you not that long ago. Your smile was bright, but as you turned away from Matt and Sydney and locked eyes with Mat, it faltered and he noticed your hands start twisting the hat in a nervous habit.

           “Great game, boys,” You breathed, smiling at them and welcoming Tito’s warm hug, patting his back and letting your hand fall on his tight stomach as he stood with his arm around your shoulders.

           “You see that goal Barzy scored for you?” Tito asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking at you. Your heart stopped and your cheeks went pale instead of pink as he said, “Pretty hot, eh?”

           Mat ran his fingers through his hair and you could have sworn his cheeks had gone pink, “Shut up, Tito.”

           As Mat turned his eyes onto you, you quickly looked away just in time to see Jesse nod at Tito, “You ready to head to the bar?”

           “Yes!” Tito exclaimed but you pushed against Tito’s side and his arm dropped from your shoulders.

           “I made your asses food,” you looked away from Tito and at Jesse. “You told me they wanted to come over, asshole.”

           Jesse rubbed the back of his neck but smirked before motioning to Mat, “Well, Barz doesn’t wanna come out, you two head back and enjoy the food.”

           Your eyes shot to Mat and noticed how he looked like he wanted the world to swallow him up, he was avoiding your eyes and glaring at his two friends. Disappointment settled inside your chest because it was clear to you that he didn’t want to go anywhere with you, so as soon as the boys were out of ear shot, you’d let him off the hook.

           You rolled your eyes and grumbled about how much you hated Jesse, turning on your heel and leaving the three boys.  You had taken this way many times, so you knew the way to the car park where Jesse and the boys had parked and even though you were still annoyed at Jesse, you couldn’t help but join the conversation about the game.

           Tito and Mat seemed to be on a high about the game and you were proud of them, as the three boys relived their goals and assists you couldn’t stop the smile on your face but that smile soon left when you reached the doors and stood outside by Jesse and Mat’s cars.

           You sighed after you said your goodbyes to Jesse and Tito and grabbed out your phone, about to order and Uber, and when Tito and Jesse got into Jesse’s car you went to go speak to tell Mat he didn’t have to do anything with you but he beat you to it.

           “So, what’d you make us for dinner?” Mat asked, still resting against the side of his car, his hands in the front pockets of his jacket.

           “Uh, what?” You asked, lifting your head from your phone and looking at him. He was smirking, his hazel eyes looking dark under the night sky and it made your heart flutter because he still hadn’t gotten rid of the scruff and it grew. “Oh, no, Mat. You don’t have to come over.”

           “I don’t?” He asked, tilting his head but still smirking.

           “No, I mean, why would you?” You asked, huffing out a smile. “I’m gonna get an Uber, you can catch up to the boys and ride out on your high.”

           Mat watched you for a hot second, licking hit bottom lip. “Nah, you’re not taking an Uber and I’m not going out tonight, I’m gonna hangout with you.”

           “Mat,” you groaned as he unlocked his car and pulled the passenger side door open and he  motioned for you to get in. You grimaced, “Mat, you don’t want to hangout with me. I know you don’t.”

           Mat didn’t bother arguing with you. He just lowered his eyes, still smirking and pushed off of his car while unlocking it, “Get in the car, Y/N.”

           Butterflies erupted deep inside you at the low grumble falling past his lips. You made your way to the passenger side of the car and got in his car, rubbing your hands together as he started his car and let it run for a few minutes.

           The ride to your apartment was quiet other than music softly playing between the both of you, it was like the butterflies had paralyzed you and you forgot what it was like to act around a human being. You could barely remember the last time you felt this nervous around a guy and what was more annoying was how relaxed Mat looked as he sat in the drivers seat.

           He had one hand on the steering wheel while propping his elbow up on the window sill, the other lightly resting on the gear shift. Every once in a while he rolled his head from side to side, keeping his eyes on the road, but a few times he had taken small glances at you.

           How come Mat got to look so perfect while you felt like you were twisted in knots. It was like he was totally fine with spending his evening with you, like he wasn’t actually wishing he didn’t get stuck with you.

           Which again, was a joke because there’s no way Mat was fine with Jesse and Tito finally shoving you onto him.

           You fiddled with your keys once you reached your door and as you popped it open, you decided to give Mat one last chance to walk away. You turned in the middle of your doorway and sighed.

           “Whaaat?” Mat asked, dragging the word out and almost making you smile with that boyish gleam in his eyes.

           “Thank you for giving me a ride home, but seriously, you don’t have to hangout with me,” You answered, taking off the hat and pushing your hair off of your neck. “I know you’d rather be with your friends.”

           “Y/N,” he said your name slowly and lifted his hand to the wall beside your door. As he leaned in closer, you could smell the cologne that had been teasing you the whole way home. “I’m getting the feeling that it’s you who doesn’t want to hangout with me.”

           “What?” You asked, shaking your head. “It’s just,”

           “Just, what?” He asked, cutting you off. He saw something in your face that he didn’t like because his eyes softened and he lost the joking smile on his mouth, “I actually want to be here with you, Y/N, but if you don’t want me to stay, then I won’t.”

           You took a second to let his words sink in as you nibbled on your lower lip. Realizing that Mat might actually rather spend the high of his win with you, you found yourself murmuring, “So, you didn’t ask me to the game as an after thought?”

           In that moment, Mat realized where he had gone wrong Sunday morning. Understanding filled his eyes and he tilted his head to the side. He slowly stepped towards you, dropping his hand from the wall and resting his shoulder against the doorjamb.

           “Definitely not,” He murmured, his voice matching yours.

           Your cheeks heated up and you lowered your eyes, trying to hide the way your cheeks filled with pink but Mat had seen it and found himself smiling softly.

           “Chicken pasta sound good?” You asked.

           “I’m starving,” Mat grinned and you backed away, letting him into your apartment.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (6)

Heyyy guys! Sorry this has taken so long to get out. Even though I have a lot of chapters written, I’m in the process of overhauling some later chapters and I’m trying to make sure I don’t conflict anything in these earlier chaps. Also I’ve been sooooo busy :(

Also: if you haven’t seen my recent kim possible au, definitely check it out!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2307

Warnings: none that I can think of this chapter

% Approximately the 2nd week of October %

Monday you continued to shut down and deflect dumb rumors about you and Tom. The rumors had exploded over the weekend since some had noticed the way Tom pointed you out before his game and walked with you after.

But it was all innocent, right?

In home ec, you started a sewing project of making a pajama set. 

As always, Mrs. Flynn had tied it into the marriage project, requiring that couples sewed each others’ garments and made the fabrics compliment each other. If everything turned out right, the couples would have to wear them during their final presentations.

You laid on the floor over the fabric you’d chosen as Tom marked your hem length for the pants, the main part of the pattern already cut out.

“This Friday is your last home volleyball game, right?” Tom questioned as he rubbed chalk on the fabric.

“Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? It’s been half of my school life longer than I’ve known you. Just like that, it’ll be pretty much over.”

“Have any big plans for your senior night, then?”

You sat up and got off the fabric so Tom could cut it.

“Well, I’m probably gonna do my hair and makeup since they’ll take pictures before the game, and then after we win I’m going out to dinner with my family. My extended fam is coming to town. If they weren’t gonna be here I’d drive over to the football game.”

You laid out the fabric for Tom’s pants and waited for him to lay on it, preparing to do the same as him.

The football game was against the other public school in your town, which was essentially your biggest rival, and this year it was at their field.

“You won’t get to see me win, princess? That’s just sad. I’ll be at your game for at least the beginning. I just have to be over there an hour and a half before kickoff, but it’s not till 7:30. My mom wants to shoot pics so you’ll probably see her.”

Tom laid down.

“Oh yeah? Based on the football pictures I’ve seen, I’m excited for her volleyball shots. By the way, how did the pictures she took this weekend turn out? I haven’t had real pictures like that taken of me since I was probably 3.”

You leaned forward to mark the fabric, but first had to move Tom’s leg to the right position.

“Haven’t seen them. She never shows me pictures until she’s done editing. I also can’t relate to the other thing. She’s had a camera pointed at all of us since the day we were born. I get it, though, it is her career.”

Tom got up and you both went to sit by the sewing machine you’d set up, pinning the fabric cutouts into individual pant leg tubes.

“Tell her I’ll be her subject matter any time, champ. I actually had a lot of fun doing it.”

“WIll do. And you’re really gonna stick with champ?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Kinda rolls off the tongue.”

By the end of class you’d both finished and tried on the pants, and you were surprised at how well Tom had done on yours.

Wednesday, you made the shirts, which, since they were custom made, fit just about perfectly, too. As per usual, you got an A.

%

Friday morning, you dreaded and looked forward to the afternoon. Like, yeah, you were excited to be recognized for your years of hard work, but you didn’t want it to be over either. 

You looked in the mirror, butterflies in your stomach. 

Since it was chilly, you wore some ripped skinny jeans and a dressy long sleeved top with pink flowers. Your hair was straightened and glittery makeup adorned your face. 

You were interested to see how people would react to the more traditionally “girly” side of you at school.

Even your parents were surprised to see you all dressed up as you said your goodbyes and headed out the door.

In the halls, people pointed and stared, but it wasn’t accusatory like the prior week. Instead, people complimented the look and congratulated you on the upcoming evening.

You walked into calculus, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you sat down next to Tom.

“Wow. Finally decided to go for it, huh?”

“Yeah, well. I thought about our conversation a couple weeks ago and decided to dress for myself. It’s been pretty well received so far.”

“Princess, I’m pretty sure people are gonna like you no matter what you’re wearing.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, preparing to reply when you were cut off by the bell and the start of announcements.

As your game got closer throughout the day, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You spent the entire free period talking to coach in her classroom to get your mind off the upcoming game.

“Y/n, I know you’re nervous, but this is going to be the best night of your entire volleyball career. I know you and know that you’re gonna crush it. That whole team looks up to you and Anna. I haven’t seen a pair of such magnetic personalities leading my team in years. I’m proud to call myself your coach.”

You gave a watery smile.

“Thank you, coach. I’ve loved having you mentor me these last four years. I promise I won’t just forget about you after tonight.”

“Well you better not. We still have regionals and state the next two weeks,” she joked. “Now bring it in, kid. I don’t want anyone seeing me be a softie.”

You quickly hugged. Once separating, she took on a serious face.

“Now go run along, eat a snack or whatever it is you do before games,” she said seriously, before cracking one more smile and tossing you a wink.

%

You stood outside the gym nervously, flanked by your parents. 

They were about to walk you out and present you for the final time. 

Anna was walking through the gym now with her parents and siblings as people cheered in the stands, and there were nervous flutters in your stomach.

Finally, someone waved you along. You stepped into the large gym and saw the massive crowd cheering and clapping. All of your friends and family were in the stands.

You also noticed Tom in the crowd. He wasn’t overtly clapping and yelling like everyone else, but he did put up a thumb and shoot you a wink when you made eye contact.

As the announcer listed off things from the senior night sheet you had filled out, you found yourself holding back tears, thinking about all the memories you had of the sport.

A few slipped out and you quickly wiped them away so Nikki could come take a couple pictures of your family.

After the announcer finished up, your parents went to join your extended family in the stands as you warmed up on your home court one last time.

After winning the first two sets, you sat on the bench, ready to win one last one as you noticed Tom slip out the gym, giving one final wave.

You quickly pushed his absence out of your mind however, when you got behind the back line and put an ace down on the first serve.

%

Sam opened his front door for you the next day.

Of course, you had won the night before, shed a few tears, and enjoyed the time with your family, who you’d said bye to before going to the Hollands’.

“Hey, y/n. Good game last night. You and Anna crushed it.”

“Thanks, Sam. Julia was amazing, too. Without her, we’d never have good passes to set and hit.”

Sam agreed and talked to you for a little bit when you thought of something.

“Oh, hey. Where’s your mom? I wanted to talk to her.”

“Um, I think she’s in her office. Let’s go check.”

He led you to a part of the house you’d never been, and sure enough, Nikki was sat in front of a large desktop computer, a picture of you jump serving on the screen.

“That’s an incredible shot!”

She startled a bit and turned her chair to face you.

“Oh! Y/n, you scared me. Come on in! I was just going through the pictures I took at yours and Tom’s games last night. While you’re here, let me show you the ones I took last Saturday.”

She minimized the tab she was working on and pulled up a file, the first picture being a black and white shot of you looking down at a notebook, writing.

“Woah. That’s beautiful,” you breathed, looking at every little detail.

“Thank you, that means a lot. You can scroll through them all, if you like. I’m going to go find Tom, I think I heard him and Harry arguing not too long ago.”

You chuckled as she left, looking at each photo. Some she kept in color and others were in black and white. You stopped on the picture of you and Tom laughing at each other.

Your faces were lit up in genuine happiness, and you felt a pang in your chest as you burned the photo into your memory. You quickly changed it when you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, sorry. Harry was being an ass. You like the pictures?”

“Yeah, they’re incredible. I’d love to have some of them.” you said, scrolling through the last few.

“I’ll ask her to put some of those on the flashdrive she’s making you. She was planning on just putting all the pictures from last week to tomorrow on one if you’re good with it.”

“Oh, yeah. No rush. Ready to go upstairs?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied as you picked up your backpack from the floor and followed him. He continued. “So I hear you guys won last night. Way to end on the best note possible.”

“Yeah, it was a bittersweet night. What about you? I never heard anything about the game.”

“Oh, we won. Not much to it, but it was a tough game.”

Tom closed the door behind him and immediately went to his desk. He pulled out a piece of chocolate and tossed it to you as you sat down.

You worked together for a while, then decided to take a break, just sprawled across the floor on your backs a couple feet apart.

You glanced over at Tom, who was messing around with his necklace.

“Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“What’s with your necklace? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take it off.”

Tom was quiet for a few minutes, rolling his plastic ring in his fingers.

“My grandad, my dad’s dad, gave it to me a few years ago before he passed. It’s just a saint’s symbol for protection. It was basically his way of saying he’d always be there for me. He was one of the best people in my life, and I wear it to remember him. It also helps me stay grounded sometimes, when I’m anxious or sad.”

You listened intently and looked at Tom for a while, who was just staring straight at the ceiling. There were tons of questions racing through your head, but you narrowed them down to one.

“Why did you put your, uh, ‘wedding’ ring on there, then? I don’t feel like I deserve to be next to him.”

Tom smiled and let out a breath through his nose, then looked right at you.

“Well I definitely wasn’t going to wear it on my finger. At first, I did it just to piss you off, because I could tell that you didn’t like it. But… I don’t know, I just… kept it as a reminder of everything we’ve been through. We still call each other enemies but honestly, I’ve started to consider you one of my closest friends.”

You scanned his face, grinning slightly. Over the past week and a half his bruises had pretty much faded, a little bit of yellow lingering around his cheek and his lip pink with new skin. 

You noticed his hand close by and laid yours on top of it, stroking your thumb over the tops of his fingers.

“Yeah… yeah,” was all you could manage to whisper out loud. 

After a few moments, Tom flipped his hand, pressing your palms together and curling his fingers around yours. All you could manage to do was stare at each other in silence, unsure of what to think or how to act. 

You were startled out of it when there was a knock at the door. Your hands quickly pulled away from each others’ as the door creaked open and you sat up. It was Nikki.

“Sorry to bug you two, but I was just gonna come ask what time would be good for you tomorrow, y/n? We need enough time to get there and take the sports pictures during the day but I think golden hour would be perfect if you wanted to bring another outfit and take regular pictures.”

“Okay, yeah. Whatever time you think. I’m free all day.”

“Well I was thinking we leave here by two so we get there at three and have plenty of time before it gets fully dark around eight. My parents would love to have you for dinner, too.”

“Sounds good with me. I’ll make sure to pack a dress or something to change into.”

“Alright, well I’ll let you get back to it, just wanted to ask before I forgot again.”

Once she shut the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You looked to Tom, who seemed just as uncomfortable about everything as you were.

“Okay then, let’s finish up,” you suggested, waking your computer back up.

%

A/N: once again, so sorry it has taken this long to upload ch 6! I’m so excited for y’all to see ch 7 tho like I literally love it. Anyways, I really want to get on a more consistent upload schedule but I also want this story to be the best it can be and school is making that so hard rn

Don’t forget to check out my new work and hopefully I’ll have another one-shot out soon, too!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series tag lists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads 

[uncrownedmox]

Entanglements Part 1

The Rigmarole: Mention of sexual contact / descriptive- dirty language. Swearing. Character(s) being a dominant cocky asshole. Sexual shenanigans (oral, male/female giving, toy play, alpha status)  18+ only.

Summary: You are the adopted sister of one Jon Moxley who has just recently lost his AEW championship title. You have been with him through it all. The Shield break ups, the injuries, the jump to AEW. But nothing has her big brother down or more laser focus than Kenny Omega. 

She won’t let Kenny Omega destroy her big brother, even if she has to destroy herself in the process to save him. Or the growing relationship between her and a certain relentless newly crowned TNT champion. 

Rating: MC+

Entanglements

a complicated or compromising relationship or situation.

We do this together, understand.

You knew Jon would say that; looking at your phone, you also knew you had to do this before he suspected anything. You two weren’t blooded brother and sister, but since your debut in the WWE and your injury, the two of you were tight. He and Renee had been the only ones to care a damn about you, so when Jon had left, you had been all too happy to follow him. The only hiccup along the way was - HIM.

If you did this and went after Kenny without Jon, you would need extra help. Kenny had The Elite and now the Good Brothers to watch his back; you knew you couldn’t help in those regards. Not physically. But if you got in close- plus you had heard certain things. Jumping when a hand came to rest on your shoulder, “Jumpy tonight, Rainbow Brite?” Turning to face the one person that you and Jon had come to trust. ”Not at all, Walking Dead.” Darby rolled his eyes at the nickname, snorting as you pocketed your phone for the time being. Reaching up to push back some pink strands of your hair, you blew a bubble with your gum.

“So, what’s it like getting all buddy-buddy with the great Sting?” Darby looks down at you, and you see it again, the storm of emotion that rolls through his ice-blue eyes. Sucking in a breath, you lower your eyes. “Darby, you can’t keep doing that.” His finger comes up to ghost trace your cheekbone, turning your head away with tears forming. There is a loud boom. Then, you can feel the heat vanishing as he lowers his hand. “This conversation isn’t over between us, Rainbow Brite.” 

Watching him walk away was hell; he was taking your heart with him. But you had work to do. Your brother needed your help. Taking out your phone again, you scrolled through your contacts and took a deep breath. Tapping out a text message.

You are doing great. Keep it up. Keep him pissed off, it will keep him off his game. 

This isn’t how Jon wanted it to go. Jon wasn’t one for reverse psychology; mind tricks weren’t his forte. You were laughing softly back in the day; that used to be Rollins trick. Sure Jon learned some of them, applied some of them. But this was a different time, a different place, and they were without the would-be Architect. You felt like you had to keep your head on a swivel to keep up with your brother these days. His acting career, his MMA, his pending fatherhood. 

You took up MMA and even got a part in a Netflix series to keep up with him. Jon had rolled his eyes at your Netflix series; fantasy and magic weren’t his cup of tea. Renee had loved it. You HAD loved it.

Suddenly your phone buzzed in your hand, signaling a return message. 

High praise coming from his baby sister.

You were smirking because the jackass had responded just the way you wanted him to. This might be slightly easier than expected. Tapping out quickly, you hoped you were playing this game correctly. If not, you stood to lose everything. EVERYTHING.

Care to rephrase those last two words, champ.

Tapping your nails on the back of your phone, you waited to see if he would take the bait once more. If he would read in-between the line, see what you were throwing down. Moving to catering as you waited, feeling ice-blue eyes on you as you moved, you felt your heart skip a beat. Moving past Britt and Rebel, who was talking about Matt and Reby Hardy announcing that they too were having a little girl.  Smiling in thought, how that covid was bringing out these life-changing positives.

Grabbing some fruit and some cream cheese, you move to sit down in a far corner when your phone buzzes again. Popping a piece of cantaloupe into your mouth, you slowly move to look at your phone, only feeling one more set of eyes on you. 

My apologies. I am a busy man, after all.

You were nodding your head, yes. You are, and I need you. And the access you have. Smiling as you toss a strawberry into your mouth, you know this might be your chance. That your game plan might die here and now if he doesn’t take the bait. Taking a drink of a bottle of water, you move to tap out.

I understand. Make it up to me?

Blinking in confusion as you hit the send hit, you suddenly remember not grabbing a bottle of water. Eyes are darting up and round, gasping when your light green eyes connect with ice-blue ones. “What shit are you getting into, Rainbow Brite?” Darby stood in front of the table you have chosen, his hands flat, on either side of your plate. You are freezing as your heart threatens to explode. 

You are licking your lips, watching as Darby’s eyes drop to follow the movement. The air seems to snap in static electricity; that’s when you see Jon enter the room out of the corner of your eye. Swallowing hard, you strangle out, “Darby, don’t, please.” He cocks his head down and to the side but murmurs, “So this fuckary has to deal with your big brother?” Choking and jumping when the table vibrates loudly when your phone goes off. 

Watching as Darby swings his beautiful ice-cold eyes to look at the offending device, but he makes no move for it. Quickly making a grab for it, lower your eyes at the message screen, you close your eyes at the message.

Enlighten me; how would I do so? 

Feeling Darby’s gaze on you, feeling Jon zero in on you. You took a deep breath and nearly jumped as Jon snarled when he finally made his way to the table you were at. With shaky fingers, you quickly tapped out before Jon could speak, before you change your mind.

A change of scenery? 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Glancing at your brother, you forced a smile on your lips and sweetly asked, “what do you mean, Jonathan?” He simply rolls his eyes at his full name, plops down in a chair, throws a glance at Darby in the ‘wtf are you doing here’ fashion but continues. “Three fucking days, no texts, no calls, no visits. No, nothing.” Rolling your own eyes as you give Darby an apologetic look. You know Jon gets tunnel vision.

It’s how he has missed this growing-breathing thing between you and Darby for so long. You are pretty sure he knew of your friendship with one another. But you don’t think he has picked up the hot flame burning between the two of you. Most haven't, not with Darby’s recent divorce and the well-known fact you didn’t date wrestlers. You have been a wrestler yourself for only five years now, and your first bit of advice was. Don’t ever date a wrestler. 

It’s so funny; you didn’t start in this business as part of the talent. Nor sleeping with anyone. You were a mere happy gymnast, then one day, Paul Levesque had scouted you. After a year at the WWE performance center, you have been labeled the newest and hottest thing. Within the WWE, you have held their women’s division, helped their revolution. Now it was to learn about yourself. 

And yet, here you were.

“Jon, I have a life outside you and Renee, believe it or not.” Knowing this is where you have to start the plan, glancing at Darby quickly, you hoped he would understand. If not, he would at least forgive you someday. Jon snaps, “I get that doll. Quit twisting my fucking words.” Snapping, you gathered up your trash as your phone went off again. Darby straightened, and you wanted to whimper; instead, you hissed out.

“Jesus, Jon can’t a girl get laid without her big brother getting up all in her business?” With that, you go and toss your trash away. You feel both Jon’s surprised eyes drilling into your back and Darby’s more cold, calculating look roaming your body. Looking down at your phone, you smirk in success.

How does Memphis sound? 

---(0)--(0)---

It has been three weeks.

You have alienated yourself from Jon AND Darby. Darby has stopped approaching you after the first confrontation with Jon. But Jon has picked up the pace not only against Kenny Omega but YOU as well. Almost like he knows what you are doing, planning?

You have been careful, explained it to Kenny, not to show all the cards just yet. Hit him when you got him down and bleeding, baby. It all comes to a head the night Kenny offers Jon his rematch. The Good Brothers have him tied up, bleeding, and spent. Kenny grabs the mic and pushes the title in Jon’s face.

“Is this what you want, Jon? Truly? Cause let’s be honest here, pretty platinum is NOT the ONLY thing I have taken from you.” 

Backstage you move into position, and you see Tony Kahn suck in a breathe. His eyes go wide as you pick up a mic and start to walk. Kenny keeps on talking.

“NOT only have I reclaimed MY number one position in this world, Jon, but I have claimed the spot no one else could do for months. And that was to take you OUT. But I found I wasn’t satisfied with that. No Jon, I want to BREAK you.” 

You see the ring action as you start to step out of the tunnel. The crowd reacts instantly. Kenny smirks and bellows into the mic.

You see the ring action as you start to step out of the tunnel. The crowd reacts instantly. Kenny smirks and bellows into the mic.

“So I took something ELSE that was precious to you, Jon!” 

Stepping out to the ring, you see that Good Brothers have let Jon move his head so he can look your way. You see the look of surprise in his baby blue eyes. Then Jon, misunderstanding, snarls. 

“Don’t you touch her, Omega.”

Shaking your head as you bring the mic to your lips, you mockingly add.

“Ohh, he has done more than touch me, big brother. Did you honestly think, I as your BABY SISTER, wouldn’t become a target in your war Jon?” 

Gliding to stand next to Kenny, you lay your hand onto his chest and snuggle into his body, laying your head onto his shoulder and letting everyone think that you were now Kenny Omega’s new flavor of the week. You continue to speak as though Jon’s eyes are hardening on you. 

“I simply made my move before that happened, Jon. Kenny Omega is a smart man!” 

Taking a step forward and leaning down, you look Jon Moxley right in the face and snicker into the mic.

“And oh so good with his hands. Pure magic.”

There is a heat in Jon’s eyes that has you stepping back, then Kenny explaining the exploding barbwire match to him, and his eyes flicker to you. Afterwards, in the hallway, you see Darby Allin and his cold blue eyes drill into you. When Kenny steps away for an interview with Don Callis, you sigh in relief. His voice makes you jump a little, “you are playing a dangerous game Rainbow Brite.” Looking at the man you want with every fiber of your being, you swallow hard and smile weakly at him. “Hello to you too, Walking Dead.”

He invades your personal space in an instant, hands on your hips, lips against your ear. “You don’t think Jon doesn’t see what you are doing??” Blinking, you jerk back at look deep into his eyes. “What do you mean?” Then behind you, you hear a bellow. There are people shouting; your name is being yelled.  Turning halfway around, you met Jon’s enraged eyes. “Get your ass over here.” Blinking as you watch The Bucks and Cody attempt to hold your brother back. Suddenly there is a hand snaking around your upper arm, “time for us to go, princess.”

Casting your eyes to Darby, you can only swallow hard and fight back the tears as Kenny pulls you along behind him and away from the two men you love most in this world.

I N S P I R A T I O N S Q U A D

@snarkwriteswrasslin : @dilfmoxley : @ofdreamsandomens @thewrestlingobsessor : @writingrose : @deepdisireslonging

S P I C Y S I S T E R S

Holls | Tay | Kay | Crystal

A O 3 S U P P O R T

SethMoxslady = RuinousOmen = Anne Carter

[nsheetee]

Can I request idol!Jisung and idol!Reader being rumored to be in a relationship and then getting caught kissing/making out in a private area

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 || Final

details: female reader, some kissing at the end

it’s the first you’re coming over to the dream dorm

jisung told you to dress comfortably since the most you’ll probably be doing is just hanging out

yet, you still felt the need to apply some cherry lip gloss and clip some pins in your hair

you stopped by a convenience store, buying some snacks so that you don’t go to the dorm empty-handed

you feel like you’re about to meet your boyfriend’s parents, not his friends and colleagues 

but it could almost be counted as the same thing

you know how protective dream is over jisung, your own group has the same attitude towards you

your phone buzzes in your pocket and you attempt to dig it out without dropping the bags in your hands

“when will you be here?”

“hurry up!”

“everyone’s waiting to meet you ;-;”

you snort at jisung’s texts, trying to type back a response with only one hand, but he sends another text before you can send a reply

“I’m nervous.”

you stare at his message, small butterflies erupting in your stomach at the two words on your screen

although you and jisung have only been dating for a few months, he brought up how he wanted you to meet the dreamies now rather than later

you’ll never forget his justification for the decision:

“these guys are important in my life, and so are you. I want the two important parts of my life to meet.”

just the memory of your shy and awkward boyfriend saying those words to you makes you giddy, and you type back a text with a smile on your face

“me too. I think that just means this is something we care about.” 

you put your phone back in your pocket as you walk the rest of the way to the dorm

you climb some flights of stairs once you’re in the building, and then find the door with the number that jisung told you

after knocking on the door, you hear some ruckus on the other side

some shouting and thudding, and then a shrill “park jisung! your girlfriend’s here!” before the door opens to reveal the one and only jisung

“hi! I brought some snacks.” you hold up the bags by your head as you make eye contact with jisung, chenle, and renjun

“I love her already.” chenle muses, making jisung send him a fatal glare

“you didn’t have to.” jisung mumbles to you, taking the bags out of your hands and allowing you to step into the dorm, closing the door behind you

“I couldn’t come here empty-handed, not when you guys are nice enough to let me join your boardgame night.”

“and now I love her, too.” renjun muses

after properly being introduced to chenle and renjun, the four of you walk into the dining room where jaemin and jeno are setting up drinks, a pile of boardgames in the middle of the dining table

“make more room, jisung’s girlfriend brought snacks.” chenle hollers, and jisung recedes into his hoodie, cheeks glowing bright pink as he hands off the snacks to jeno

“hey, she has a name.” jisung still stands up to his best friend despite his small voice and chenle starts teasing him, pulling his hoodie strings tight and attempting to tie them while jisung struggles to get away

“hi, I’m y/n.” you decide to introduce yourself to jeno and jaemin, and they politely greet you.

“are you sure you’re jisung’s girlfriend?” jeno asks, head tilting as he sets out the snacks you bought, “you seem too mature to be dating him.”

you laugh bashfully at the indirect compliment, your brain too scrambled to say anything back

“ah, don’t you know, jeno? opposites attract.” jaemin speaks as if he’s a wise, old man, “and besides, I think it’s good that y/n is more mature than jisung. it balances out.” 

“I like jisung for how silly he is. it makes me feel free and relaxed.” you blurt out, sending jisung a glance over your shoulder to find him still play-fighting with chenle

“oooooooh.” jeno, jaemin, and renjun exclaim, now making you recede back into your jacket, realizing what absolute fluff just came out of your mouth about their group member

soon enough, all six of you are sitting around the table, getting ready to play the first game of the night: uno

you really wanted to sit next to jisung, but before he could make it to your side, chenle and jaemin sit down in the seats on your left and right, forcing jisung to sit across from you on the round table

you could tell he isn’t super happy about the seating arraignment, but you lightly kick his foot under the table to get his attention and send him a smile

the first round of uno was more intense and drama-filled than anything you’ve ever seen before

cards flying

people screaming (mostly chenle, and right in your ear too)

dramatic falling down onto the floor when they loose (mostly renjun)

your stomach hurts with their antics, face hot from the amount of exertion it took to play a simple round of uno

you decide that it would be best to try a different game after jeno is forced to put his head down on the table to calm himself after losing to jaemin, the champ of the game

you played several more (less energy-filled) games, conversation flying across the table easily, as if you all have been friends for years rather than just a few hours

you freely told the dreamies about yourself, mostly things you could find on the internet, but you were happy to share these facts face to face

they apologized for haechan’s absence, as he’s with nct 127

and then promptly tried to pry you for information on your group’s next comeback

it was all fun and games, you truly loved spending time with jisung and his group members, and whatever nervousness you felt on your way here dissipated throughout the night

soon, you’re getting texts from your group members to come back to your own dorm, saying that it’s too late and you have a full schedule tomorrow

you say your goodbyes to the dreamies, allowing jisung to walk you down the stairs and out the front door of the building

“you don’t have to walk me to the bus station, I can make it there myself.” you say lightly, but he shakes his head

“no really. it’s okay, I’m not going to make you walk by yourself at night.” 

jisung looks so good in the night sky, his cheeks permanently lifted up and his skin shining with youth

you turn away from him before you get caught staring, walking next to him with your hands in your coat pockets

you both keep your heads on a swivel for any fans with cameras or paparazzi that may recognize you and want to take pictures

your relationship hasn’t been revealed, but there have been rumors circling around

it’s all fan speculation, the way you and jisung interact at award shows and on a few radio shows you’ve been on together

except it’s not speculation at all, your fans are definitely correct about you two dating, but the time to reveal your relationship has not come yet

“so… did you like hanging out with the members?” he asks

“yeah! I was nervous, but they’re so fun that I forgot about my nerves after we started playing.” you laugh and glance at jisung

he has a stern look on his face, and it makes your smile drop

“what’s wrong?”

“n-nothing. it’s nothing.” jisung is quick to turn away and deny the look on his face, but you can tell something doesn’t sit right with him.

“no. tell me what’s wrong?” you gasp, “was it me? did I do something bad?”

“no! no, not at all. I just…” he mumbles the end of his sentence and you lean in to hear better

“what was that?” he sighs at your question

“I just wanted to…”

“to do what?” you frown at how he keeps avoiding the situation, and jisung finally sighs loudly and blurts out his full sentence

“I just wanted to sit next to you! jaemin kept putting his arm around your chair and you kept talking to him, and I wanted to do all that stuff.”

you both stop walking, your eyes wide as jisung voices his feelings with his whole chest

you bit your lip, not sure how to contain all of the emotions brewing in you at his confession

jisung is never one to outright say how he’s feeling, but now that he has, it makes you too weak to handle his heartfelt thoughts

“you’re my girlfriend, after all.” he finishes, looking down at your shoes and shuffling his feet

there’s something in you that has no regard for where you are, how this might look to others walking on the street, or what the possible consequences of your next actions might be

you just want to kiss jisung

stepping forward and grabbing the ends of his jacket, you force him to look at you, silently asking with your eyes if this is okay

as a responce, jisung wraps his arms around your middle and brings you closer

you step up onto his feet and reach up, your lips meeting in a sweet kiss

he helps you balance on his feet, keeping you tight against him as he looses himself in the kiss

jisung loves how your cherry lip gloss tastes on his lips and how your cold hands feel as they slide up his chest and caress his cheek and neck

he rubs one of his large hands up and down your back, surprising himself and you when you shudder against him at the action

he just wants more

more of your kisses

more of you

but he remembers where you two are, and pulls away

your lip gloss has transferred over to his lips, and you giggle as your thumbs reach up to wipe away the stains

this side of jisung is so precious, you attempt to take in every single ounce of it before he turns back into the jisung you know so well

your affectionate touches are cut off by talking, and you and jisung turn to glance down the pathway, near where the illuminated bus stop is

several men hover near each other with big cameras, lenses pointed directly at you two

you both freeze, realizing what those cameras must’ve just caught

“uh oh”

you step away from jisung, but before you can get too far, he grabs your hand and you both run the opposite way from the bus stop, back to the dorm

the only thoughts filling your mind are how the next few weeks, maybe even months will be spent dealing with the events that happened tonight

but you can’t help the smile that plays on your face when you can finally let everyone know that park jisung is your boyfriend

[blackmissfrizzle]

Playing Games- Part Trois (La Finale)

Characters: Florian Munteanu

Summary: As @scoop93535 said RIP to the pu**y

Warnings: Probably the nastiest smut I wrote in awhile. So I don’t know if you need to pray before, after, or both.

A/N: Shoutout to @damnitaa for suggesting Tommy Pistol, which inspired this chapter!

ENJOY!

Once inside the house, Flo told you to sit on the couch and not to move one muscle and that’s exactly what you did. You sat with your back erect, a few inches from the couch, hands resting on your knees, and your heels planted on the ground. So badly you wanted to lift your feet, but you knew Florian would have known you moved.

When he felt that you waited long enough, he returned downstairs in nothing, but his gray sweats slung low on his hips and something in his hand.

“Now you want to be a good girl?” Flo commented on how you remained in the same position he left you in with your head hanging. “I’m letting you know that ain’t gonna save you.” Florian leaned over the couch and your shoulder. “You made your bed, now it’s time to lay in it.” Still you said nothing. Hopefully, it would gain you some favor even if deep down you knew it wouldn’t.

Soon you felt the coolness of metal touch against your skin. It was a necklace and you were tempted to look down, but Flo’s harsh voice reminded you not to until he said so.

“You can look now.” Immediately your eyes casted down to your chest and saw Florian’s name written in cursive.

“I love it, Daddy!” You tried to jump in his lap to give him a hug, but he stopped you. Florian grabbed a good chunk of your hair and pulled your head back. “Only good girls get hugs. Not bratty little sluts who like to test their daddy’s patience.”

A shiver ran through you as Flo traced the necklace against your skin. “This was supposed to be a sweet gift. A gentle reminder of who you belong to,” His voice was much softer now. “But now it’s gonna be a reminder of how you gotten fucked like the slut you are.”

He shed his sweats far enough for his dick to bob up and down. A groan escaped your lips at the sight and Florian used that as his chance to hook a finger in your mouth to bring you to your knees and his dick. “You wanted Big Nasty, well you’re about to meet him tonight.”

Flo didn’t give you a chance to put his dick in your mouth, instead he shoved it in, fucking your face. He loved the sound of his dick hitting the back of your throat, it reminded him so much of him being deep in that pussy.

“Mmm, I might have to keep you like this.” Flo moved your hair to one side. “You’re so beautiful with a mouth full of dick. And quiet too.” He grabbed the back of your head to assure you don’t go anywhere. “And most importantly… You. Can’t. Talk. Back.”

Your face was a mess. Luckily, the waterproof mascara and eyeliner were doing their jobs, because tears were escaping your eyes like nothing. But the force of his dick shoving down your throat had you drooling everywhere.

Flo pulled your mouth off him and stared at you. He knew you probably thought you looked a hot mess right now, but he thought the opposite. You looked absolutely fucking beautiful to him.

He gripped his dick and like the trained girl you are, you stuck out your tongue. It felt so heavy against your tongue that you almost started sucking again, but Flo pulled away and spit in your mouth instead.

Looming over you, Flo kicked off his sweats. He admired your beautiful form, but you had too many clothes on. “You got 30 seconds to get out of that dress or I’m ripping it.” Florian warned you.

Your hands went to the hem of your dress and you pulled it off, revealing your naked body. Soon as you took off your heels, Florian had you bent over, you trapped under his leg and your ass exposed.

You were expecting a spanking, but when Flo’s tongue licked your sopping wetness, you jumped trying to escape, but Flo held you down. “Stop moving, before I pop you,” Florian warned you.

It was a struggle to stop yourself from squirming. Flo’s tongue was magical. You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm from the tip of your toes.

“Daddyyyy.” You couldn’t reach his face, so you settled for resting your hand on his thigh. Florian took his free hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. That soft and gentle gesture had you busting all over Flo’s face. He drunk your juices, doing his best not to let any go to waste.

The couch wasn’t working for him anymore. He needed more space to fuck you properly. Taking you in his arms, Florian made his way to the bedroom.

Once your body hit the mattress, you assumed the position. Face down, ass up. Florian loved having you vulnerable like this. He bent over you, trailing kisses down your spin causing you to shiver uncontrollably.

“Mmm, look at daddy’s pretty baby. It’s a shame I can’t reward you.” He nipped at your earlobe.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I promise to be good!” You pleaded with him, but you didn’t dare to turn your head towards him.

Flo grabbed your hair and pulled your head back far enough for him to look at him. “Did I fucking say you could talk!?” He growled while wrapping his other hand around your throat.

His gruff voice had you dripping down your thighs. “No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Florian let go of you, almost like he was shoving you away. He went to the chair in the corner of the room to retrieve something. By the sound of it, it was something metal.

SNAP. Oh, shit you thought. It was a fucking belt. You hated when he used the belt to spank you, but you had to boss up and take it like a champ.

To your surprise the belt was wrapped around your neck instead of smacking your ass. Florian tugged on it gently. “Not too tight, is it?” He asked lovingly, ensuring that you were safe.

“It’s perfect.” With those words, Florian switched back to mean daddy mode and rammed inside of you. At that welcomed intrusion you were coming apart.

Flo was pumping into you like a wild man, confusing you to when one orgasm started and the other ended.

“You got my attention now! Stop crying. Isn’t this what you wanted, baby?” Florian asked mocking you, pulling on the belt until he saw your brown eyes filled with that sex haze.

He continued his assault until he was satisfied with the amount of orgasms you had in that position. He laid you on your sides with your back against his chest. “No more. I can’t take anymore. I learned my lesson.” You pleaded with the man and pushed against his chest.

Florian ignored your feeble attempt to fight him off and almost put a flat palm deep inside you. It stunned you and turned you on that his whole hand almost fit inside of you.

He was going in and out of your pussy so fast that you could see your wetness splashing around. Occasionally, he would slip his hand out, slip his dick in, and slap his fingers against your tongue while whispering the dirtiest things to you.

Knowing he was close to finishing, Florian switched positions. He wanted to look into your eyes when he cums inside of you.

Florian practically was hugging you by how close he was to you. “Fuck! You’re so beautiful like this, ingerul meu (my angel). I might need you to act up like this more often.” He commented on you looking fucked out of your mind.

Him sexing you like this with sweat dripping down his face and his chain dangling against his chest made you swore you had died and gone to heaven.

You placed your hands on both sides of his face and kissed him, teasing his tongue a little bit. “Cum in me, Daddy.” You bit down on his bottom lip, pulling it a bit.

“Who said I need your permission? This is what I want your pussy for. To keep my cum deep inside.” Florian grunted while Florian sat back on his haunches bringing you with him while he pumped into you. Your mouth was right near his ear and your sinful moans were the things to catapult him into his orgasm causing you to follow.

Flo continued to hold you minutes after. He had to calm you down after such an intense session. “You good, baby?” Flo pushed back some of your hair that clung to your sweaty forehead.

You broke into a giddy smile and giggled. “I’m the best.” You kissed Flo all over his face in gratitude. He chuckled at your excessive affection but loved it, nonetheless.

Reluctantly, Florian pulled out of you, laying the both of you down. Neither one of you had the energy to clean up. You just silently laid there, enjoying the other’s mere presence for the first time in months.

Flo was the first to break the silence. “So, you done playing your little games?”

You bopped his nose and smiled evilly. “Not by a long shot.”

Tagging:  @honeychicana @crushed-pink-petals @titty-teetee @thickemadame @lovelymari4 @pananegra @cocooned-butterfly @twistedcharismaaa @chaneajoyyy @thottyantics @munteanhore @songficsbyrissi @autumnsoidier @dumbchick @lotusss-flowerbomb @blackgirlreadsfanfic @taterfics @momobaby227 @aquarius-smr-writing @ljstraightnochaser @60shannon

[cali-holland]

Wanna Play a Game?- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield 

Prompt: You and Harrison pass by the time in quarantine by playing games

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: might be some swearing, making out a lil, harry & tom being dumb but we love them

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Hey, lovebirds, what do you want for lunch?” Harry called out to you and Harrison as he walked outside onto the back porch, where you and your boyfriend were currently hunched over an intense game of chess. You and Harrison had been dating for a little over a year and, with quarantine, decided now was a good time for you to move in with him, which meant with him, Harry, Tom, and Tuwaine. Now on week five- maybe six or seven, you stopped counting- of quarantine, you and Harrison resorted to playing different board and card games, such as chess.

“I’m fine with anything.” You shrugged, moving your pawn a space forward.

“Sandwiches?” Harrison asked with a hopeful smile as he moved his bishop a few spaces.

“Why’d you do that?” Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend, “You just left your knight open for attack.”

“I didn’t see it.” He replied.

“Well, thanks, Harry, for giving me my next move.” You laughed, taking Harrison’s knight with your pawn. It was then that Harry looked at the disproportionate amount of pieces on the board; you were absolutely crushing Harrison.

“I thought you were good at this game, Haz.” Harry pondered. Last time he played against Harrison, he lost without even getting to take any of his opponent’s pieces.

“No, you just suck.” Harrison snickered. He moved one of his pawn’s this time. “Go make us sandwiches.” 

“I’m surprised I’m winning too. Last time, you beat me so easily.” You said.

“I don’t know.” Your boyfriend shrugged, leaning over the board to distract you with a kiss.

~~~

A few days later, you and Harrison were playing the Game of Life with Tom, who had insisted on being included this time. Harrison was the banker, claiming he was best at keeping track of the money, and you and Tom weren’t about to protest.

“Get married, hey!” Harrison cheered as his car landed on the chapel space. You gave him a quick kiss, making Tom jokingly gag.

“Ok, next time, I don’t play this with a couple.” He told himself, acknowledging his place as the third wheel in the room.

“Get yourself a girlfriend then.” Harrison joked, pecking your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, just go.” Tom waved off the comment as the blue eyed boy put the small pink ‘person’ in his red car before spinning again.

As you kept playing in the living room, Harry eventually wandered in, wanting to see an update on the game. He watched the three of you go around the board a few times, until he noticed Harrison’s.

“Your salary’s 80,000, Harrison.” Harry said as if it was obvious.

“And?” Harrison replied, picking up a few bills for his pay day.

“You’re only giving yourself 60. Can you not count, mate?” He laughed.

“My bad. I thought I had Y/N’s salary for a moment there.” Your boyfriend played off his mistake, grabbing another $20,000 from the bank.

“Haz, you said you could handle being banker!” You playfully slapped his arm.

“And I thought I was shit at math.” Tom laughed.

“Hey, I haven’t been shorting you two, just myself.” Harrison said, trying to hide his embarrassed blush, before adding, “Accidentally.”

“Oh sure.” You teased.

“I’ll just be banker then, god.” Harry took the bank from Harrison and sat it down in front of him.

“You tried.” You laughed as Harrison shifted to wrap an arm around your waist. Now that he didn’t have to take care of the bank, he was free to cuddle up to you while playing, and you were not complaining about it one bit.

~~~

“What’s the game today?” Tuwaine asked as you and Harrison sat down at the table on the back patio with a board game box in hand.

“Scrabble.” Harrison answered, helping you set it up.

“You don’t want to play with them.” Tom said, messing about with the chickens, before Tueaine could even ask to join.

“Why not?” You asked, in faux offense.

“Too coupley.”

“Oh like this?” Harrison teased, cupping your face then proceeding to dip his tongue into your mouth before properly kissing you. You laughed into the kiss at his overdramatic attempt to make it sloppy and gross.

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” Tuwaine said as his interest returned to his laptop in front of him.

“Gross.” Tom whined, making you and Harrison laugh.

You and Harrison started your game, filling up the board with easy enough words. You argued here and there over if words like “thor” counted as actual words- and yes, you caved and let him play that as a real word. The game started to get harder as more spaces were filled up on the board. Harry, Tom, and Tuwaine all eventually made their way over to watch the two of you play, since there was literally nothing better to do.

“Zebra.” Harry said, looking over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“What?” Harrison asked, looking back at his friend.

“Zebra, right there.” Harry pointed to the open space hanging off your ‘squeeze’ from two rounds ago.

“Yeah, you’ve had those letters this whole time.” Tuwaine laughed.

“Piss off.” Harrison swatted his friends away.

“How the hell can you guys see that?” Tom questioned, looking at the scrambled ‘b r e z a’ on Harrison’s side along with a couple more letters.

“You’ve had a good word this whole time? Why the hell have you been playing just three letters?” You looked at Harrison in disbelief. He’d been acting like he was struggling for the past ten minutes, but he’d been sitting on legitimate words.

“I didn’t realize it, I swear.” Harrison chuckled almost uncomfortably, placing the letters. You could tell by his laugh that he had definitely realized it, but didn’t want to play it.

“Well, I can’t do anything.” You sighed, defeated. Harry and Tuwaine looked over at your tiles- Tom didn’t even give it a chance.

“Yeah, you got nothing.” Harry admitted, looking at the useless letters in front of you. Agreeing with him, Tom and Tuwaine wandered back inside with Harry following them.

“Good game, darling.” Harrison said, starting to clean up the board. He’d won just based off his last word, placing it on a triple score. “Do I get anything for winning?”

“Come here.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. Harrison’s hands found your waist and shifted you into his lap with ease, needless to say the other three boys were glad they were gone.

~~~

As the week continued with more games between you and Harrison, you started to grow suspicious of his gameplay. It seemed like mostly every single game you would either be tied or he would be losing, which was fairly odd since you normally were the one losing.

“But you always win at Uno.” Tom whined when Harrison suggested the five of you playing Uno, as if being locked in a house together wasn’t straining enough. Despite his complaint, he still sat with you, Harrison, Harry, and Tuwaine at the dining room table, ready to play.

“It’s the only game we haven’t played yet.” He insisted.

“Are we stacking?” Harry asked.

“Of course.” Tom replied, shuffling the cards before handing them off to Tuwaine to deal them out. Harrison reached over and grabbed the edge of your seat, pulling your chair closer to him. He rested his arm around your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“No cheating. We’re watching you two.” Tuwaine warned, pointing at you and Harrison.

“He can’t see my cards.” You said, taking your cards and holding them in such a way so that your boyfriend definitely could not look at your hand.

The game went on as well as any Uno game could go- as in, Tom complaining about ending up on the receiving end of the draw fours, Harry continuously playing reverse cards, Tuwaine somehow consistently having just three cards, Harrison picking up at least one card every round because he “didn’t have any cards to play”, and you having decent luck with a fairly good hand.

“Haz, you really have no cards?” You questioned as he went to pick up a card again on his turn.

“I don’t! Harry changes it to yellow right before my turn every time.” He reasoned, continuing to draw a couple more before finally placing down a yellow card.

“Did you-“ you looked at him in disbelief as you realized the card he put down was not one of the four he had picked up. “Let me see you cards.”

“What? No, that’s cheating.” He defended, his ears turning red.

“What are you hiding?” You inquired, leaning closer to him.

“Nothing, it’s your turn.” Harrison stated, brushing off the subject.

“Mate, you did just put down a yellow that was already in your hand.” Tom acknowledged.

“Are you reverse cheating?” Harry questioned, looking at the fat stack of cards Harrison had- well, the second largest compared to Tom’s.

“Haz, show me your cards.” You insisted, trying to peer over to look at his hand.

“Stop it, just go, darling.” He replied with a smile. You eyed him suspiciously, but continued your turn anyway. 

A few more rounds carried on until you and Harry both had Uno. When it was finally Harrison’s turn to go, you couldn’t help yourself from spotting his deck as he picked up another card from the middle- more specifically you spotted the assortment of cards, including the numerous black wild cards.

“You’re cheating.” You accused him instantly.

“No, I’m not.” Harrison let out a whine at the repeated argument.

“You have four wild cards and you’re still picking up cards.”

“Four wild cards?” Tom exclaimed.

“God, Harrison, you’re messing up the game.” Tuwaine laughed.

“And you have each color.” Harry pointed out, peering over to see Harrison’s hand. He quickly put his cards down, only increasing everyone’s suspicions, “Why the hell are you still picking up cards?”

“I’m trying to help you win.” He mumbled in defeat, displaying his array of cards. Really, he should’ve won already; after all, he was the reigning Uno champ of the household.

“Haz, you didn’t-“ You were cut off by Harry connecting the dots suddenly between games.

“Is that why you were shit at chess and scrabble? And shorting yourself in Life?” He asked. Frustrated, Harrison wordlessly got up and left the room. An uncomfortable silence filled the dining room and you winced hearing Harrison slam his bedroom door.

“I’ll go talk to him. You guys continue without us.” You said, excusing yourself from the game and table, and hurrying off after Harrison.

“Haz,” You knocked softly on the door. When there was no answer, you only spoke up louder, “Harrison.” With still no reply, you opened the door to see your boyfriend sprawled out on the bed with a clenched jaw and a deep frown on his face. You let out a small sigh, silently laying down beside him. Harrison wrapped his arms around your waist and you entangled your legs with him.

“You look pretty sexy with your jaw clenched like that.” You teased, running a hand along his jaw before moving it up to his hair. His eyes found yours and he smiled appreciatively at the soft touches. “You know, you didn’t have to let me win.”

“But you suck at chess and Scrabble and Uno- Life is more luck, but still. I just didn’t want to keep winning.” He admitted quietly, his face intimately close to yours as he spoke. 

“Then help me win. Don’t reverse cheat.”

“I just wanted to help.”

“And I love that about you. Your heart’s always in the right place.” You kissed him gently before pulling away, “I’ll win on my own terms, alright?”

“Alright,” He let out a sigh of relief that you weren’t upset with him over purposefully losing. He kissed you again, “I love you too.”

“Should we go play another round?” You asked, and Harrison hummed, thinking about it for a moment. He smirked at you, leaning in some more so that your lips were barely touching.

“I think I know a game we can play for a few rounds, where we both win.”

[sourbat]

Number 20 for Hammertooth!

breaking the rules 

To say Toki makes Magnus feel young is an understatement.

It starts small, with Toki telling Magnus they don’t have to wait in lines like the rest of the “regulars jackoffs.” He removes his hat from his head, and a swarm of klokateers gather as fans begin to pick up on the unknown couple, and before Magnus has time to go on the defense, is politely escorted by the ride staff to the nearest elevator, bringing them up to the second floor and loading station for the coaster.

“Right this way, gentlemen,” one enthused and underpaid teenager says, then orders that the next compartment be reserved just for the two.

“Let me take your things, sir,” A klokateer offers, taking Magnus’ sunglasses, water bottle and beanie and cradling all in his arms as though each article were some delicate relic. The servant withdraws as Magnus is pulled into the ride by Toki, but Magnus never sees it stowed into a cubby, and assumes when he stumbles off the horrific ride that the servant held his things the entire duration, and is promptly handed back to him with the same respect afforded to Toki. 

It’s more than just power.

The next time it’s at a stadium. Magnus mentions the heydays of wrestling, the “Hell in the Cell” matches he and the boys used to bet on when they were younger, when the need for a spectacle outweighed the urge to go out, and spare change and want for cheap booze was plenty. Toki takes him to a stadium and has him pick from a row of overly excited actors. He nudges Magnus for names and stunts while the manager tells him not to worry about the damage caused.

“They can handle whatever you boys can dish out!” the man exclaims, then points a finger at some women and demands for them to offer “these fine gentlemen” a drink. 

Magnus is handed a bag of thumb tacks. A female wrestler tells him to give the word during the match, and she’ll offer him a fold-in chair for tossing. She lets him know he can go right up to the stage and make the swing himself, or ask another to do it for him. Another wrestler reminds the klokateers to give them a warning when Toki decides to enter the stage, and Magnus wonders how many times Toki’s made a scene like this during a predetermined match, and how often it’s affected future games.

His worry is cast aside when they’re placed in the front row, with cushioned seats that, were it not for the wall of klokateers surrounding them, would have painfully stood out amongst the crowd.

“Throw them tacks!” Toki hisses into Magnus’ ear once their desired wrestler takes the first hit. 

Magnus stares at his bag and questions the morality of his actions. Toki appears in his side glance, snickering, eyes narrowing into vicious little slits that make Magnus’ heartbeat go on the rise, the adrenaline already coursing through his veins race and fill his brain with the stupid desire to hear Toki cheer and laugh at the sight of blood being drawn.

He tosses the tacks. Someone calls him “sir” and asks him if the stunts are good enough before offering a toolbox to him and Toki. Magnus throws chairs, cans of beer, dollar bills at whatever pretty face or sculpted rear draws his drunken attention, and with only minor prompting from Toki, finds himself on stage. Toki holds a mic up and shit-talks a wrestler who takes it like a champ, says nothing when the mic is handed to Magnus and he’s given his chance to say whatever the hell he feels before loudly demanding the other to kick his ass. Lacking a filter, and with a crowd of thousands chewing up their every word, Magnus says more than his fair share.

Nobody dares boo at them when they kiss.

It’s control over another person, but far more intense.

“Can I help you, officer?” Magnus asks in an overly calm demeanor. He lowers his shades, exposing the red surrounding his good iris, the veins alive and coursing in the second.

It’s been several months, and whatever restraint Magnus carried with him disappears along with the heated wind. Beside him Toki reclines comfortably in the passenger seat, unaffected by the presence of policemen or sirens.  

The officer rests his hand on the roof of the car to diagnose the source of Magnus’ dry eyes, though the bitter, earthy stench that emits from the open window gives away plenty. “Do you have any idea how fast you two were going?” 

Magnus snorts at the question. “I don’t know? You’re the one with the speedometer.”

“Got a real sense of humor, do we?”

Toki pops up. “Yeps!” He happily proclaims, unbuckling his belt and going up to a crawl, hands resting on top of Magnus as he peers out the window. “He ams really funnies when he wants to be. Loves that’s abouts him!”

The officer drops the padlet used to write his tickets. “Holy shit, Mr. Wartooth!” He steps back, eyes Magnus and breaks into a mild sweat. “Oh, Mr. Hammersmith. My apologies, I didn’t recognize you there.”

“Mhmm.” Magnus reaches for the burning, pink and yellow pipe.

Toki points at the officer’s side. “Cans I sees your tasers?”

“What?”

“You heard the man,” Magnus says, turning as the weight on his legs shift. Toki backs into his seat, snatches the pipe up, but not before nuzzling Magnus’ face against his own. Confident, Magnus slaps his hand against the outside of the driver’s door.  “Let him play with your taser, yeah? Have another good laugh?”

“Of course, Mr. Hammersmith.”

The taser gun and holster are handed to him. The officer tells Magnus how to use it, but the words are meaningless and, lacking any sense of safety, he hands it to Toki.

“Here you go, buddy,” he says, breaking into an uncontrolled fit of chuckles once Toki snatches it, then blows smoke out the window, straight into the officer’s face.

Toki stares at the weapon with childlike wonder. “I wants to try it on someones,” he tells Magnus, eyes shifting from innocent to malicious.

It’s a stare that stirs that hot, near uncontrolled fixation.

“Do you?” Magnus asks, voice going low as Toki fixes a grin, one carrying the promise of future law-breaking and potential bloodshed.

“Yeps.”

It’s something greater than youth, more intense than power and control, and when Toki pulls the taser from the holster, pale blue eyes going dark with ideas, Magnus bites his lip.

“Let’s go dancing.”

Toki makes him feel immortal.

[vegalocity]

Starrosefics, asking for 23/42 for Spicynoodleshipping and 72 for Mabifica, please? (All are from the 76 Kisses.)

Prompt meme || @starfics

Shorter Mabifica because longer spicynoodles Both under cut because i respect your dashboards

72. When One Person’s Face Is Scrunched Up, And The Other One Kisses Their Lips/Nose/Forehead 

The epic highs and lows of competeitive gaming

--

“WHAT?! OH COME ON!”

“Oh wow I won? Interesting. I thought you were the Gravity Falls Smash bros champ!”

“Rrrrrr Best two out of three!”

-

“NONONONONONOOOOOOOO”

“Oh! Win to Northwest again! Do you maybe want to switch characters? I know the princess is an intimdating foe. I can play the little pink blob if you'd like.”

“Don't mock me Paz.”

-

“OKAY HOW DO YOU KEEP BEATING ME?! YOU DON'T PLAY SMASH!”

“Maybe you're losing your touch.”

“RAAAAGGGHHH”

-

“....You've been training with Dipper in those discord calls you guys don't let me crash so I don't 'derail the conversation with lovey dovey talk' haven't you?”

“He plays different than you, but if you've beaten Mario you can beat Princes Peach.”

Mabel moaned in agony, sliding down in her seat until the majority of her legs were hanging off the couch and her head was the only thing on the backrest. “You hustled me! You hustled me just to humiliate me. And Dipper helped you! I am betrayed, I am bereft. None shall get past my stone wall again. I'll never love another again.”

Pacifica began to laugh because really, how could she not? Mabel treating a video game like a deeply important telenovela event that had things riding on it beyond pride was too good.

“Oh come on, I've been practicing basically since last summer, if anything it shows how good you are!” Mabel scrunched her face up into a pout. And Pacifica laughed again.

She watched Mabel's out wobble, no doubt she wanted  to find the humor in this too, but wasn't done pouting yet. So Pacifica leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose. She finally smiled back up at her.

“I guess I'll see you in the next Gravity Falls Tourney in a couple of weeks huh? May the best player win.”

“Oh, I will.”

Mabel squawked in outrage.

--

23. Exhausted Parents kiss // 42. Sated Kiss  

I still don’t have a name for this kid so you’re just gonna have to bear with me (Content warning for more internalized abelism)

--

It wasn't exactly a secret that Red Son was a doting father, if he were the type to carry one of those 'picture laminate' wallets he'd have filled it to the brim with pictures of their little girl from age six hours to current day and would take them out to gush about her regularly, possibly even to their enemies. But thankfully he kept all of THOSE on his phone and that would inevitably save their baby girl some grief when she grew up a little more and entered her teens.

Honestly, it was literally one of the best things about him because Xiaotian could NOT get enough of watching how his husband—whom had entered his life shreiking with fury and intent on nothing but destruction and his own untimely death—would happily sing along to the cartoon opening theme songs with their little rascal or blow raspberries into her belly as she squealed with laughter.

Neither of them really got stuff like that in their childhoods, so it was rather important to both of them that that sweet little bundle of energy and crayons got as much affection as they could possibly give her without smothering her with it entirely.

There were some hiccups of course, how could there not be? She couldn't stand anyone touching her from her shoulders up, so her hair was oftentimes messy as she could only sit through one hairbrushing in the morning and one at night. Though her arms were too short to be able to brush her own hair yet she kept asking.

She'd only recently started speaking actually, apparently she'd decided she didn't want to talk until she could spew out full sentences, which was certainly something when it happened. Heavens knew when she was three and hadn't spoken a word, everyone had been trying to coax her to talk. Usually just trying to prompt simple words, but everyone had been taken aback when Tang was slowly pronouncing the name of the hero of the story he was telling her, and she responded with her first word “Why” followed quickly with “-are you talking so slow?”

Most problematic was that she had very sensitive hearing. Which could be a problem not only in this city, but also in this household, granted Red Son could go from talking at a normal volume to borderline shouting without being aware of the volume shift at all, and he was always extremely distressed when he thought everything was normal, didn't see Xiaotian trying to catch his eye to tell him to tone down, and get blindsided by his darling baby cry out and clap her hands over her ears and curl up as though she were in physical pain. Xiaotian ended up taking a pair of headphones that had gone dead in an ear, yanking out the wire and adjusting them to her little head. It didn't get rid of the days where their baby would curl up in the far corner of her bedroom, hands clasped over her ears because everything was too loud for her, and those days were always guaranteed to end with Red Son spiraling into the idea that he was a terrible father and wasn't meant to take care of people, but they were less frequent.

And then there came today. Red Son was sitting in the chair he favored most, scribbling into a notebook about some project or another, and their daughter was sitting on the floor, happily coloring one of the characters in a cartoon she loved. And as she concentrated on the crayon drawing, she began to rock back and forth. It was adorable, and Xiaotian didn't want to interrupt his two favorite people while they were both in the zone by announcing dinner time—though Dinner was ready—so he was planning on just lingering in the doorway for a few moments longer. But Something about it had caught Red Son's eye.

“Sweetie? What are you doing?”  

She yelped and stopped, both drawing and rocking.

“Nothin' just drawin'.”

“I see that, You were also rocking in place, did you know that?” She seemed to shrink and Xiaotian probably should have cut in now, but something held him back. Let it play out.

“s'okay I'm just weird.” She didn't see Red Son flinch, but he did.

“Who... who told you something like that?”

“They say it on Alice's Adventures. Weird is when you do something that other people don't do and it makes you stick out. Right? And I never seen nobody do it. So I'm weird.”

Red Son took a moment, long enough for their daughter to turn back to her drawing, and stood up from  the chair, striding over to sit across from her on the floor, notebook propped up on the coffee table. And as she started to rock in place again, he joined her.

Xiaotian almost wanted to cry.

He gave them a couple more moments. “Okay gremlins, dinner's ready!”

Thier daughter leaped to her feet and made a small happy squeaky noise as she raced to the dining table. “Dinner! Dinner! Dinner!”

Red Son was slower to join, realization hitting him and reflexively he began to fluster. “How much of that did you see?”

Xiaotian met him halfway across the room and tried not to look too giddy. “Enough that you are getting so laid tonight once she's in bed.” for now he settled for a quick kiss. “But only if you stop calling yourself weird and acknowledge the real word for it so that shit doesn't rub off before we can get her tested.”

“Fine.” Red Son looked away, gaze now fixated on the little girl already happily rocking back and forth at her space at the dinner table. “She's probably Autistic and she probably got it from me.”

“Which means...?”

“Don't push it Noodle Boy.”

Red Son stopped rocking only when he was alone, and it was great to see, the stim was doing more to reign in his temper than even Xiaotian had thought, and of course, it was an unequivocal delight to watch him and their baby side by side sitting on the floor, either of their projects laid out on the coffee table, and rocking back and forth in rhythm with eachother.

--

Send me stuff!

[cryysiswritesthings]

The Multi-verse Theory || UFC

Series: Inuyasha, Modern AU Rating: Mature Warnings: N/A Status: On-going Pairing: KogKag Summary:

Something caught his opponent’s attention. Gold eyes flicked to the side once, twice, before lighting up with recognition. Split lips lifted in a smirk, a single fang glinting in the overhead lights. His stance shifted, newfound resolve strengthening overworked muscles.

Kouga knew that look. When it was genuine, he’d watched winning contenders get slaughtered by their opponents. But you always knew when it was faked. The loser would put on a show, try to get in a few jabs, and then lose their false confidence at the knockout. But for a guy like this…

The scent hit him then. Subtle and hard to make out through pounds of sweat-soaked bodies. Vanilla and sandalwood.

Damn it all. She’d shown up.

Find it On: AO3

Tumblr Tags: #kogkag #inuyasha #multiverse #ufc fighting

His coaches were yelling in the background, but he couldn’t hear them over the crowd’s roar and the blood rushing in his ears. The half-breed was breathing hard, spitting blood to the floor. He was a flagging; a few more hits and he’d be down for the count. Bastard put up a better fight than he’d expected, but it hadn’t been enough. Not even close.

Something caught his opponent’s attention. Gold eyes flicked to the side once, twice, before lighting up with recognition. Split lips lifted in a smirk, a single fang glinting in the overhead lights. His stance shifted, newfound resolve strengthening overworked muscles.

Kouga knew that look. When it was genuine, he’d watched winning contenders get slaughtered by their opponents. But you always knew when it was faked. The loser would put on a show, try to get in a few jabs, and then lose their false confidence at the knockout. But for a guy like this…

The scent hit him then. Subtle and hard to make out through pounds of sweat-soaked bodies. Vanilla and sandalwood.

Damn it all. She’d shown up.

Kouga wiped at the sweat dripping down his head, using the motion to hide his grimace of annoyance. Somehow, her presence had a way of screwing him over every time. Just like now. A moment ago, he’d had this fight in the bag.

Looked like he was wrong.

–

Kouga sat alone, head hanging in gloved hands while the crowd cheered outside. He’d been so close. So damn fucking close. It was almost laughable.

Three combos and an uppercut. That’s all it had taken. Total knockout. And it was all her fucking fault.

Metal hinges creaked, telling him someone had come to witness his defeat. Likely one of the coaches coming to give him another ‘pep talk--’ 

He caught the scent of dog. He bared his teeth, the expression hidden in his gloves.

Dog, sandalwood, and vanilla.

Her heels clacked against the concrete floor, but Kouga didn’t lift his head. It was the scrape of a metal chair against the concrete that finally made him look at her, glacial eyes brimming with a mixture of amusement and rage.

Raven black hair fell against her back in waves, storm grey eyes lined with kohl. Her shirt was navy satin; her black skirt stopped above her knees, showing off creamy skin and smooth legs. In her manicured hands was a small tape recorder, its red light shining power. Glitter pink lips lifted in a smile.

Kagome Higurashi. Reporter for the Sports Radar.

He’d been a goner the second he laid eyes on her.

“Kouga, the self-proclaimed Wolf of the ring. Three-time tournament champion, tonight’s victory will send him on a one-way trip to the national semi-finals. Or at least,” Kagome’s smile shifted, becoming an amused grin. He had to fight not to return it. “It was supposed to.”

“Nice to see you too, Higurashi,” Kouga growled crossly, finally letting his hands drop..

“Tell us Kouga, after that… sudden, epic defeat, how are you feeling? It has to be tough, knowing you were so close, and then seconds later having it all ripped away from you.”

His gaze flicked between her face and the glowing light on the recorder. His coaches hated it when he fucked up interviews. Too bad he didn’t really care.

He straightened on the bench with a tired sigh. “You here supporting my opponents now? Thought I was your favorite.” 

Pleased, she mimicked the motion. “I don’t come to offer my personal support. I just do interviews with contenders.” Her grin sharpened. “And write glowing reviews of the winners.”

‘Glowing reviews.’ Yeah, all that white hair had nearly blinded him at the start of the match. “And when this is over, how long is it going to take you to ask his opinion about my answers?”

She tapped her chin, thoughtful. “I suppose that depends. Sports fans always like hearing about their favorites losing to the underdog.” He wondered if she’d be able to hear her smile when she listened to the recording later. “Even if it is just to scream about the match being rigged.”

“If you’re there it may as well be,” he groused. He glowered at the recorder. “Turn that fucking thing off, unless you want those sports fans to hear something they shouldn’t.”

She laughed and rose. “Why Kouga,” with practiced ease, she flicked the switch and pocketed the recorder. Finally. “Whatever could you mean?”

Kouga growled and tugged her into his lap. “Woman…”

Kagome smiled and brushed the tip of her nose against his. “Problem, champ?”

“Ex-champ,” he said sourly, then nipped her chin sharply. “So thanks for that.”

She snickered, unashamed, and ran slim fingers through his sweat-soaked bangs. “I’d say I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t really be true.”

“Mh-hm.” He let his eyes close and savored the feeling of her nails dragging over his scalp. “How much longer are you here for?“

She shrugged, tugging at the tie in his hair until it came free. The hand not in his hair cupped the back of his neck and scratched at the soft skin. “Could be a while. Managers want me to cozy up with the new champ.”

Kouga’s lips lifted in a snarl, his peace momentarily shattered. Clawed fingers pulled her satin shirt from beneath her skirt, his large hand a brand of heat against her side. “Yeah, I know. I hate it.”

He didn’t see Kagome’s smile, but the kiss she pressed to his lips was meant to soothe. His chest rumbled; he didn’t appreciate the placation, but let her do it anyway. He liked her feisty, but she tasted that much sweeter when he played at understanding.

She brushed her cheek over his jaw, her breath warm against his ear. “You know no matter what they ask me to do,” she whispered, “you’re the one I come home to. That’s not going to change.”

He bit his tongue to cut off his immediate response. Instead, he wrapped his free hand in her hair and directed her face to his. He returned her earlier gesture, a soft brush of the tip of his nose against hers. “Yeah. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.“

Satisfied, Kagome hummed and dripped kisses over his lips and jaw. “I wouldn’t ask you too. There is one good thing about this though.” She paused. “Well, two things, if you want to think about it.”

Kouga’s snort was all the answer he needed. Rather than keep talking, he pressed kisses over her neck and nipped gently at the delicate skin. Her soft gasp encouraged him, but it didn’t erase the burn of his jealousy. The dark bruises he sucked on her neck helped.

“Kouga…”

He released her, but only to hike the edge of her skirt up to her thighs. “Problem, Kagome?”

Her whimper answered him. His smile was wicked; he kept his mouth busy at her neck to hear more of those sounds, the scent of her arousal hovering in his nose. When her skirt was high enough, she straddled his lap of her own volition. His hands covered the tops of her thighs and pulled her closer. There was just enough space between them for her to undo the first buttons of her blouse and reveal fine black lace, peppered with shining crystals, over the white silk of her bra.

Kouga growled low, and in his anger he drug his fangs over her throat. “This had better not be for him. Tell me that isn’t for him.”

Kagome gasped in surprise and shook her head. “It’s not,” she tugged his face from her neck with his hair. Blue eyes locked, firm with intent. “I didn’t wear this for him. It’s a present. I got it for you.”

His anger subsided, soothed by the admission. Kouga slid his fingers higher under her skirt. “Matching set?”

She bit her lip and nodded, sliding the fabric up to her waist. The sides were black ribbon, neat bows keeping the fabric in place. There was a column of black lace over the center of white silk, and more black ribbon sitting atop it, a double-cross lacing that stretched from one end of the lace to the other. 

But the pièce de résistance of her lingerie took shape in the large tear-drop crystal at its center, a beacon to draw the eye and keep it there.

Kouga’s smirk was all predator, his rumble of pleasure vibrating in her chest. The sound set off sparks of heat everywhere in her body. One place in particular.

The scent of her arousal filled his nose, and he swelled with pride. He nibbled her ears' outer shell, making the woman in his arms shiver. “You want me.”

“Yes,” she said quietly, and bit her lip when he pulled at the ties. “Kouga, wait…”

“Why?” His jealousy flared again; he rocked his hips upwards and his erection against her slowly dripping core. “Your new friend waiting for you?”

“Yes,” she snapped back, growing tired of the game, “he is.” That had always been a part of the deal, no matter how much he disliked it. He wasn’t allowed to interfere with her work. But she didn’t want to fight, so she tried to soften her tone.

“I have to finish my interview,” she tilted her head back and rose to her knees, putting herself above him. “And we both know how you get. Once we get started, you can’t stop.”

Kouga narrowed his eyes. “I don’t ever hear you complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” she laughed, kissing the bridge of his nose. “I would just rather not start a sex marathon in the locker room when I have to be somewhere.”

The wolf snorted. “I don’t see the problem.”

Kagome rolled her eyes. “The problem, champ,” she teased, finding her feet so she could stand, “is that you don’t like being interrupted. And I don’t want to have to worry about my responsibilities when you’re pounding into me.”

She laughed at his scowl, but the wolf didn’t mind. Not really. Instead, he watched her set her clothes to rights. “You said he’s not seeing those?” She hummed an affirmative while she fumbled with a button. Kouga stood and took over for her. “Then we compromise.”

His reporter raised a brow. “I’m listening.”

He backed her into a wall, trapping her with his body. “I let you finish your interview with… minimal complaints,” he ignored her snicker. “But I only got to see part of this new set.”

“Mm, that’s true.” She tilted her head to the side to give him access to her throat. He accepted the offer and set his teeth against his previous marks. “And I did spend so long picking it out.”

“Exactly. It should be properly appreciated.” It was hard to resist the urge to pick up her and wrap her legs around his waist, but he managed it. “So you go finish your interview, and I let the assholes yell at me for a bit. But when I get home…” he drew a claw down her side. “I want you laid out in my bed. With just my present.”

Just the idea made her quiver; heat pooled low in her belly. “I think I can manage something.”

His smile showed glinting fangs.

“I thought you’d say that.”

[nightingiall]

hey jess hope you've been keeping well! ❤️ just wondering if you'll ever do a niall pov of part vi of hitc when they were at the party bc i'd really like to know what went on in his head throughout the myriad of events that happened :)

story page // wattpad

The first person Niall sees as he walks through the door is a tipsy-looking Harry Styles. 

“Niall, mate!” he exclaims as he sees him, voice loud over the raucous music, hair a mess of slightly damp curls as he sends Niall a lopsided grin. “Take a shot with me!” 

And, well, how can he say no to free liquor? Especially when it’s the expensive kind that goes down easy and smooth, spreading a slinky sort of heat through his tummy when it settles in him. 

The Shack parties are probably his favorite parts of working at Hightstown, with great alcohol and interesting people all in the same place. Today, though, he doesn’t care for either of those things, eyes instead searching for a beautiful girl who he could not, for the life of him, stop thinking about. He could not stop thinking of curious, vulnerable brown eyes and a smile that made all the work to crack it worth the effort. He sees her everywhere, all the time—in his dreams and curled in odd corners of his flat with Spike and in everyone at this party—heart sinking when the ghost of her disappears into his imagination. 

If he makes his disappointment obvious at the absence of Rory Bhatt, then Harry doesn’t seem to notice, instead yammering on about Leslie or Gigi or—well, Niall doesn’t know, he’s not paying attention. He’s saved from being outed as a terrible listener by Alejandra, who makes her way over to them to ask if they want to play drunk Jenga. Harry declines but Niall allows Alejandra to drag him to the makeshift gameroom, if only for a distraction. At least if he’s immersed in a party game he won’t be thinking about a certain brown-eyed beauty all the time.

It works, but only for a few moments. 

Niall is invested in the game for a while, his competitive side rearing its head for the first few rounds. But once it’s clear that Leslie is going to be the clear champ, her alcohol tolerance putting all of theirs to shame, he simmers down a bit, instead joking around with Callie and stealthily pouring excess beer into Shane’s cup with Alejandra when he’s not paying attention. Sure, it’s a distraction, but with the cloud of competition disappearing into wisps in his mind, he finds his eyes often wandering towards the door, searching, heart surging whenever he catches a glimpse of long, dark hair. 

It’s never the person he’s looking for, though. 

“Niall,” someone murmurs into his ear. It’s Callie. Cheeks flushed, eyes bleary, and stray hairs sticking up slightly in the humidity that’s leaked into the house, it’s clear that she’s well on her way to being tipsy. Perhaps she’s already there. Her hand is on his shoulder and she’s leaning in close to him. So close that he instinctively takes a step away. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Heard you almost beat Leslie at beer pong the other night. Everyone’s talking about it.” 

He laughs but even to his ears it sounds a bit stiff, unnerved from how close she’s standing. “Yeah?” Beside him, Alejandra nudges him to take his turn, and he pokes at a block, releasing it easily from the tower. Take a whiskey shot, it reads. So he does. Deep brown, luscious, expensive whiskey. It’s clear that someone’s tapped into some rich person’s reserve to grab it. Distantly, he thinks that the color reminds him of Rory’s eyes. 

“Yeah.” Callie’s still talking. “We take beer pong very serious around here.” She sends him a sweet smile, deep pink lips framing bleached-white, perfectly straight teeth. Callie is tipsy, and still no one can deny that she’s beautiful. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and clearly interested in him. Her hand lingers on his shoulder, her smile a second too long. She’s beautiful and interested, yes, but Niall’s mind is stuck on someone else. 

He’s mid-laugh when he sees her. This time, it’s unmistakably her. Those eyes, hypnotizing, but for once, his gaze is pulled away from them because she’s smiling. At him. Big and bright and blinding and so beautiful that he nearly forgets there was a time that she made him work so hard to get one out of her. She’s smiling and she’s walking towards him and Niall feels any semblance of self-control slip away, slinking down his body and landing in his knees, which go impossibly weak whenever she’s around. 

“Rors!” The nickname is leaving his mouth before he can even think about it. He distantly registers that it’s loud, impossibly so over the ruckus of the party, feels other people’s gazes on him as he finds himself moving towards her, bringing her in for a hug, a moth to her flame. But he doesn’t care. Clearly he’s never known subtlety when it comes to Rory Bhatt. “You made it.” 

She smells like the color yellow. It’s something he first noticed about her. She had been standing near the pool and he was struck by the etherealness she exuded. Long, graceful limbs, the hem of her white dress catching in the breeze, flowing gently. She’d been wearing sunglasses but she took them off when he walked up to introduce himself. To this day he doesn’t know how he had the balls to do it. He thinks he smiled and held out his hand, but he can’t remember. He’d been too distracted by those big brown eyes. Guarded and questioning, catching the sunlight and sparkling. 

A gust of air flitted past them and it carried her scent up to him, and it is this that he remembers most. Not the feeling of her hand or whatever she said to him. But that, the quick glitter in her eyes and her sunshine yellow scent. Sure, one cannot smell sunshine, but something Niall’s chemistry professor from college—back when he dabbled in the sciences—said one day stuck out to him in that moment, that at the center of our galaxy, in a cloud of dust and gas, scientists found a chemical responsible for the flavor of rum and raspberries, that space probably smelled like a fancy brunch, sweet and tart. The next day, when Niall and his friends went out and bought rum and raspberries and got drunk in the middle of the day on the floor of someone’s apartment, they joked that the place smelled like sunshine. 

That was what Rory Bhatt smelled like. 

He registers the scent now, as he presses his nose to her hair when she hugs him back. Sunshine and lemons and Rory. Niall tries not to come across as a freak and hopes to every power on earth that she doesn’t notice him taking in the way she smells, but he can’t help it. He’s not yet tipsy but he thinks he can get drunk off of this alone, the way Rory smells, the warmth of her body seeping into his, the way those brown eyes catch the light when she smiles up at him. It’s intoxicating. He’s so fucked. 

Hopefully she doesn’t notice how completely out of his mind he is for her at the moment, but he doesn’t do much to help his case, mindlessly tangling their fingers together and dragging her towards the drunk jenga game. He thinks he banters with her and everyone else at the table but all he can really focus on is the fact that she squeezed his fingers when their hands were laced together. It’s stupid, of course, to hyperfixate on this one gesture. But the muscles in his hands replay the memory of her touch over and over again. The rest of him is just running on autopilot. 

Alejandra draws a King’s Cup block from the tower and everyone cheers because at least they weren’t that unlucky. Niall can’t help himself when he bends into Rory, his hand on her waist. “Lucky we didn’t get that one, eh?” he says, but it’s just an excuse to catch a whiff of her scent again. It’s all great until she turns towards him and he realizes that he’s made a mistake. He’s leaned in too close. Her lips are mere inches from his. All of his nerve endings feel magnetized and they’re jumping around within him, craving a connection with her skin. He’ll kiss her if he doesn’t find some self-control. He knows he will. So he desperately forces words out of him so he won’t do something that will ruin this precarious balance they’ve managed to strike. “Don’t think you’d survive a King’s Cup anyway.”

It works. Rory wrinkles her nose at him as she swats a hand against his chest, rolling her eyes. And it’s so cute that he’s surprised his brain is still functioning from it all. “I can handle my alcohol, thank you very much,” she retorts with a little huff. “And besides, you’re the one who’s already had way more to drink than I have.”

She’s not wrong. He can feel it now, the steady thrum of alcohol bubbling through him. It’s making him reckless. He can’t afford to be reckless. 

And still, he is. Callie topples over the jenga tower and Niall seizes this opportunity to tug Rory away. He’s been aching for a moment alone with her. It’s selfish, of course. Any time she gives him a minute of her time he wants more. Just earlier today they had all been goofing around in the pool and she’d swam up to him when he was taking in the sunset, and she jumped on his back to scare him. It’s hours later and he’s still wondering how on earth her scent still broke through the film of chlorine that had settled on both their skins. 

They end up on the patio, and when Niall closes the sliding door behind them, shutting out the loudness emanating from within, he’s finally able to take her in. As they settle together on a lounger, he has every intention of telling her how he really feels. 

I cannot stop thinking about you, do you know that?, he wants to say. It’s right there on the tip of his tongue and it nearly comes tumbling out before he catches the look on her face. It’s that concentrated expression she gets when she’s focusing hard on something, like when she’s perched on the lifeguard chair drawing or when she’s pouring out food for Spike in his bowl. She does that a lot, gets lost in her thoughts, daydreams. So he asks.

“What’re you thinking so hard about? You’re quieter than usual.” His voice is a whisper despite no one else being around. It’s just the two of them and the sounds of the night, crickets singing and leaves blowing together in the breeze. 

He can see the exact moment she’s back with him, her eyes coming into focus. The slightest of pinks bloom high on her cheeks and Niall would bet anything that the skin there is surging with warmth. He’s not thinking when he reaches out, passing off the graze of his knuckles against her cheekbones for brushing away the hair that’s blown into her face. He’s right. Searing heat meets his skin. It sends jolts of electricity right through him. Rory lets out a quiet laugh, a lingering smile on her face as she glances down at their hands, which have somehow intertwined without his knowledge. 

I’d move mountains for that laugh, he almost tells her. I’m so completely in love with your smile that I see it in my dreams. 

For the life of him he can’t get his fingers to stop brushing her hair back. It’s a tantalizing softness against his skin. Reckless. He’s so busy watching the movement of her features that he nearly forgets that she hasn’t answered his question. She’s gone and gotten lost in her head again. This time, he’s the one who laughs. “Rory. Where are you, love? It’s like you’ve always got your head in the clouds.”

She’s full-on blushing now, her shoulders quirking up to her ears as though she wishes to hide it. Niall suddenly can’t remember what they’re even talking about. He’s reeling, the mere sight of a blush sending his mind into overdrive. Something else nearly spills from his lips. What can I do to make your cheeks go red like that again? 

“Sorry,” Rory says, smiling wryly. “I guess I just daydream a lot.” Her eyes meet his again and suddenly, finally, he realizes that perhaps she wants to tell him something. There’s a sort of nervousness swirling in the dark brown that has anticipation building in his chest. He inadvertently leans forward, silently telling her he’s listening. 

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” He all but blurts the words out and it’s all he can do not to smack his hand against his forehead. It’s a good thing he doesn’t, because it means that he’d have had to let go of her hand. And he’d have missed the color rising to the tops of her cheeks again. His heart surges in his chest. “Besides, I probably talk too much anyway.”

Rory is looking at him like she’s never looked at him before. It’s intense and all-consuming at the same time. She holds the entire world of secrets in those deep brown eyes and he’ll do anything to get her to open up to him. Tell me, his fingers say as they squeeze hers, because suddenly, this feels important. Suddenly, he’s thinking that maybe they’re on the same page after all. 

She takes a breath. He’s hyperfocused on her. For a moment, the world falls away from them. The crickets stop singing. The wind is still. For a moment, it’s him, and her, and his beating heart, and her unspoken words. A moment. Rory opens her mouth. A moment. She’s finally speaking. 

“I guess I was just trying to figure out how to tell you that I—”

A moment, broken.

The sliding door crashes open behind them, the crickets start chirping again, the light summer breeze is loud in Niall’s ears. His heart is a heavy thump, thump thump in his chest, so out of order that it feels like it’s jumping around inside of him, stopping only when it feels as though it’s lodged up in his throat. 

A breath wooshes out of him as he turns to face the interference. His brain registers two things, both at the same time. One, it’s Shane and Zafar that are tumbling out of the door, laughing loudly about a fight happening inside. Two, his hands are cold, the skin trembling from the absence of Rory when she snatches hers away, startled by this interruption. 

What was she going to tell him? Irritation crawls through him at their moment being shattered, but he forces himself to laugh along to the dramatic reenactment currently being performed by Shane and Zafar. 

It all goes to shit from there. He’s sucked into the chaos of the boys. More people infiltrate the patio, the summer air now carrying the sounds of overlapping conversations when not only minutes ago it was a silent bubble for him and Rory. 

She’s no longer sitting next to him when he glances over, instead pulled into her own conversation with her friends, and Niall has to work so hard not to let his frustration show. It’s not anyone’s fault, he tells himself, that the only reason he’s at this party was the chance that Rory would show up. It’s his own fault. Earlier, at the pool, he should’ve just invited her over to his place so they could lounge around with Spike and drink red wine, like they always did on their nights off. 

Instead he’s here, silently simmering under the surface. 

It’s happening before he even realizes what is happening. 

Someone screeches, and it’s so loud that most people shift towards the sound, curious of the source. Niall turns around to realize it’s Callie. She’s holding up an empty wine bottle, face lit up like she’s had an idea. It’s only when Niall looks closely that he realizes she’s so drunk that she’s dangerously close to falling off her chair. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” she declares—or slurs, really. 

Someone beside Niall grumbles. “What are we in middle school? We’re too old to be playing spin the bottle.” He laughs at that under his breath, because leave it to Gigi to be this blunt about her displeasure on something. Beside her, Niall spots Rory, her face closed-off and stoic, a stark contrast to the softness of her features earlier as she smiled at him. He frowns. All he wants is to be alone with her again. 

Shane ends up initiating spin the bottle. He’s loud and cocky about it, not hiding his intention for the bottle to point at Alejandra, whom he’s openly had a crush on forever. This ignites everyone. Gigi and Zafar pipe in with some smack talk, a crowd has drawn up to watch the scene, and laughter swirls through the air as the moment draws on. 

It backfires on Shane, of course. The bottle does not land at Alejandra, but at Harry, much to everyone’s amusement. Shane tries to back away, face bright red from embarrassment, but he’s teased relentlessly by the rest of them, and it’s only when Alejandra says something like, “Guys always want to watch the girls make out with each other in this game but never want to hold up their end of the bargain unless it’s convenient to them,” that they all egg him on harder until he has no choice but to cave and give Harry a peck on the cheek. 

Niall laughs so hard at it all that tears spring to his eyes. He’s wiping them away when Rory catches his gaze. She’s grinning now, eyes glittering in amusement, and Niall just wants to capture the brightness of her face and save it in his pocket forever. A breeze floats by and sends her hair flying into soft wisps that frame her face and god he aches to reach out and tuck the strands behind her ear. Maybe he’ll just grab her after this and ask if she wants to get away from here, if she wants to head back to his. They can goof around with Spike and laugh about this on his couch. He can sit a safe distance away so he’s not tempted to kiss the smile right off her face. 

He doesn’t get too far with that thought because Callie is piping up again, declaring that it’s her turn, clearly not understanding that it was all a joke and Shane was just taking the piss. His mind is still on big brown eyes when Callie spins the bottle, and he’s still trying to blink away the image of being alone with Rory when he realizes that the bottle has landed on him. 

His heart is in his throat again. He’s sure that his apprehension is showing on his face but Callie doesn’t seem to care. She’s grinning wildly, clearly intending to do as the bottle decreed and kiss him, and he quickly tries to think of something to stop her, a nervous laugh leaving his lips as he says, “Uhh, Callie. I wasn’t actually playing.”

But she’s already standing in front of him. “You know the rules of the game, Niall,” she purrs, voice low, and Niall’s desperately looking around for help now. He tries to meet Rory’s eyes but she’s not looking at him. Callie’s leaning into him now and he doesn’t know why, for the life of him, he can’t get the word no out of his stupid mouth. “We’ve never made out before. It’ll be fun.”

It’s Gigi who speaks up for him, her voice edged with irritation. “Jesus, Callie, he said he’s not playing. What ever happened to consent around here?”

But it’s too late. Callie’s hands are on his shoulders and he tries to lean away from her, a hint for her to back off, but either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because she continues to edge closer until the damn chair is stopping Niall from moving back any further and she’s too close to his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, is all that’s going on in his mind because he’s too caught off guard to joke the situation off and he’s starting to think he’s going to have to physically move her off him to stop her. 

There’s a moment where Niall feels like time stops and he’s able to quickly glance around at the faces surrounding him. There’s Callie of course, in front of him with her lips pulled up into a smirk, eyes half closed. There’s Harry a ways behind her, face contorted as he cringes. Beside Niall is Zafar, who appears to be amused and uncomfortable at the same time, as does Shane. On the other side is Gigi, who looks like she’s two seconds away from getting up and yanking Callie away herself, Alejandra, who is frowning, and Rory. 

It’s when his eyes land on her that it’s like time speeds up again. He’s only able to catch those eyes, dark coffee brown, widened as she watches them, and then Callie is leaning close enough to obscure his view. 

Two things happen then. Callie’s too close. She’s one second away from kissing him when Niall makes a split second decision to jolt away, turning his face and shifting slightly so that her lips never land anywhere on him. At the same time, Leslie, bless her heart, loudly bursts through the glass sliding doors, yelling about the beer pong tournament, and Niall, blissfully, is saved. 

Callie is not happy. She makes an annoyed sound when she peels herself off him and Niall has to restrain himself from using the opportunity to put as much distance between them as possible by making a run for it. “We’re playing spin the bottle,” she grits out at Leslie, who, for her part, simply snorts. 

“What? Why? Haven’t you all made out with each other already?” That breaks the tension. Everyone laughs and starts to head back inside for beer pong. Niall rises too, but his eyes are on Rory. As opposed to moments ago when she was watching him, now, she won’t meet his gaze. He feels something dense and heavy flood into him at the sight of Alejandra rubbing Rory’s shoulders; it settles at the pit of his stomach and weighs him down. Alejandra whispers something to her and Gigi as they get up too, but when they all pass each other, Rory pointedly ignores him. 

Niall walks inside and tries to calm down but he really just wants to scream and flip over all the stupid beer pong tables. What just happened? Things had been looking promising. He and Rory had a moment alone, she was going to tell him something that seemed important, and then everything just spiraled out of control. Niall is kicking himself for not being able to outwardly tell Callie to back off, for not being able to reach for Rory and tell her that all he really wants is to get out of there and spend time with her. 

But she’s engrossed in a conversation with her friends now and he’s pulled into beer pong. Leslie, the reigning beer pong champ for who knows how many summers, has already set everything up and picked out pairings, and Niall’s at a table with a bloke named Jayden. They’re familiar with one another so they make small talk as they begin but Niall can still feel the overwhelming irritation that’s lodged into his muscles. It’s making him dizzy with an annoyance that threatens to bubble into anger. He’s just landing the ball into one of Jayden’s cups when he spots Rory heading towards him. 

His heart is in his throat again, and this time for a different reason. Rory’s got that look on her face once more, the intense, concentrated one. But when she notices him watching her it melts away, replaced with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She steps close to him, that sunshine scent of hers seemingly stronger now. With this and his residual embarrassment of earlier, Niall thinks he might go crazy. “Good luck,” she tells him, voice so low that it’s clear she only means for him to hear. 

But she’s barely looking at him. 

And she’s starting to walk away. 

Shit. He scrambles for something to say to keep her here with him but comes up short, and in a moment of desperation, he reaches out to grab her wrist before she gets too far. Distantly, he registers a ping pong ball knocking lightly against his stomach from Jayden missing his shot. He doesn’t care. “Rory.” He hopes his voice doesn’t give away how frantic he is. He feels like he needs to explain even though he didn’t do anything. “The thing that just happened—”

And they’re being interrupted. Again. Niall is going to rip his hair out. He’s about to tell whoever it is to fuck off when he realizes that it’s someone he knows. Johnny Torres. 

Niall lets go of Rory, fingers finding the ping pong ball instead. As he’s taking the shot, he hears Johnny say to Rory, “Haven’t seen you in a while, babe,” and his entire body goes so numb that he has no idea how he lands the ball in a cup. Jayden fishes it out and drinks, seemingly unbothered with whatever’s happening on Niall’s end, engrossed in a conversation with one of his own friends. 

Every single one of Niall’s nerve endings are on edge. He doesn’t know what to do or say. All he can focus on is Johnny’s hand around Rory’s wrist and think about how he heard the two of them have—or had?—a fling or something of the sort. He’s suddenly insecure. Maybe he misunderstood the look in Rory’s eyes earlier. Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way as he does and was about to tell him so. Maybe he’s been too obvious this whole time and she’s uncomfortable with it. 

Niall thinks he might hurl. 

Johnny asks Rory if she wants to watch him play at another table and Rory starts to tell him that she’s in the middle of a conversation and Niall starts to panic. What is he even going to say to her? 

“The thing that just happened…” That’s where he left off. How can he explain himself now? He might say too much. He might push her away. He can’t—he can’t think. 

So he takes a deep breath and lands another shot. “It’s alright, Rors,” he hears himself say, interrupting her mid sentence as he turns and sends her a smile. He needs to let her go for the time being. There’s too much going on and it’s making him crazy and he needs time to just think. “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

She’s whisked away by Johnny to an adjacent table and Niall has to tear his eyes away to keep from staring. Jayden lands a ball into one of Niall’s cups and he quickly takes the drink, desperate for some sort of distraction from the events of the past twenty minutes. The beer is cheap and watered down and it goes down easy, but it has no immediate effect on him. Which doesn’t help because his eyes flit over to where Rory and Johnny is and he’s met with the sight of Johnny brushing away that strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

Before he even realizes it, he’s tossing the ball so hard that it knocks over a cup on Jayden’s side, beer spilling everywhere. “I’m so sorry!” he gasps when Jayden yelps. “I definitely did not mean to do that.” Niall passes Jayden some paper towels for the table. Thankfully, no beer spilled onto his clothes. 

“It’s all good,” Jayden says, wiping the table quickly and tossing out the now wet paper towels. He jerks his head towards Rory and Johnny, a knowing look in his glasses covered eyes. “Girl troubles?” 

Niall glances over again only to see Johnny’s hand on the small of Rory’s back. He’s holding her so close that their faces are inches apart, and Niall has to avert his eyes to avoid seeing something he doesn’t want to see. “No, we’re just friends,” he says to Jayden, but heat is spreading through his body so fast that he’s sure he’s red all over. He’s startled by the furious wave of emotions that crashes through him. Never has he felt this way before, a spiderweb of feelings over someone who is not even his. And he doesn’t like it. 

Jayden sends him a perceptive smirk, clearly noticing the flush on Niall’s face, and Niall grabs another cup to drink from even though Jayden hasn’t even tossed the ball yet. “Doesn’t look that way,” he shrugs, clearly amused. “You keep looking over at her with this sad look on your face.” 

Niall is shocked by this assessment, not having considered that sadness may be a facet of his tangled emotions. He’s upset, sure. But he has to remind himself that he and Rory are just friends and he respects that. Wanted that, even. He’d love for their relationship to be something more, but the summer is almost ending, and he would never want to be someone who hurts her because of any uncertainty that will come when it does. 

Jayden takes a shot and misses. “Don’t know if this helps,” he says nonchalantly, “but she keeps looking at you too.” 

Niall doesn’t know why but this is what makes him smile, even if it may mean nothing, even if it could be wishful thinking on his part that he is on Rory’s mind just like she is on his. 

Niall ends up winning that round of beer pong. He and Jayden part with a handshake and a few laughs, with Jayden giving Niall extra details about the fight that happened earlier. Finally, Niall is at ease. He doesn’t know what had gotten into him earlier but he doesn’t like that version of himself and resolves to keep his head down to avoid running into anymore mishaps. 

Apparently that isn’t possible. Because for the next round, he’s paired with none other than Johnny Torres. Niall sighs to himself because Johnny’s actually a really cool guy. Even if Johnny and Rory were a thing, it shouldn’t get Niall all riled up. After all, Rory has warmed up to him enough to call him a friend, a far cry from the beginning of the summer when she was guarded and distant towards him, and that was all he ever wanted anyway. To be her friend and make her smile. 

He and Johnny shake hands, wish each other good luck, and get started. Niall’s about to take his shot when something catches his eye. It’s Rory, of course. She’s standing on the other side of the room and she’s looking right at him. Their eyes connect and she smiles at him. It’s soft and beautiful and his skin is overheating again but it’s for a different reason now. She sends him a thumbs-up and a silent look that tells him good luck, and something else too, but he can’t quite figure out what. 

Niall smiles back at her, the world falling away for a moment before he remembers he’s supposed to be playing a game. When he tosses the ball, it lands directly into a cup that’s notoriously difficult to land. Cheers erupt around him. It’s clear that the rest of the partygoers are now invested in this tournament and have chosen favorites. Niall doesn’t care, though. Because when his eyes search for Rory again, he finds that she’s still watching him. He’s so thrilled by this that he sends her a playful wink. Her smile grows and he feels his heart give an excited flutter. 

“Ohhh,” Johnny is drawing out, drinking from the cup Niall landed the ball in. “I get it now.”

Niall quirks a brow at him, the beginnings of a laugh in his throat. “Get what?” 

Johnny smirks. “You and Rory. You’re into each other. That’s why she was being all weird when I interrupted you two.” 

Niall is blushing again and he wishes he’d stop doing that. Weird things happen to him whenever Rory is the topic of conversation and everyone else always picks up on it. “We’re just friends.” 

This time, Johnny laughs. He takes a shot and lands it in an outer cup. “Yeah. Sure you are.” 

Niall gulps down his beer. “What does that mean?” 

Johnny shrugs, the look in his eyes mirroring the one Niall saw in Jayden’s, knowing and slightly amused. “The way you guys just looked at each other? Looked like a bit more than friendship to me.” Niall somehow lands another shot and Johnny fishes the ball out to drink from the cup. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

For some reason, this is what breaks the wall of tension between them and they both start laughing. “Okay, fine,” Niall says. Johnny tosses the ball and misses. “I like her.” 

“Then you should tell her.” Johnny sounds so matter-of-fact that Niall nearly agrees with him. He stops himself, instead landing the ball into another one of Johnny’s cups. 

“I dunno.” Niall is the one shrugging this time. “I don’t want to ruin anything. It took basically the entire summer for us to even become friends.” 

Johnny laughs. There’s a bigger crowd drawing around them now. “For what it’s worth,” he starts, keeping it vague just in case they had eavesdroppers, “I seriously doubt that being honest about your feelings will ruin anything. I know her. And I think if you tell her, you won’t be disappointed by her reaction.” 

There are too many people around to continue this conversation now so they steer towards a different topic, but Niall can’t help but let Johnny’s words wash over him. He runs the risk of compromising this friendship he’s managed to cultivate with Rory, but what if she does feel the same way? Should he tell her?

He mulls this over for the rest of the night. Even when he wins against Johnny Torres. Even when he continues to play against Leslie. Even when he ends up winning the whole tournament and the house is erupting with cheers of his name, he’s only thinking of Rory. 

So when he turns around when it’s all over and spots her there, looking at him, smiling, he smiles too. I like you a lot, Rory Bhatt, he thinks he might say to her. It almost feels right. Because she’s watching him, eyes glittering, like he’s the only person in the room. It’s like they’re magnetically attracted to one another. People are clapping him on the back, congratulating him on dethroning the reigning beer pong champ, but his feet continue pulling him towards Rory. 

She looks beautiful. There’s a glow on her face, that strand of hair falling over her forehead, and she’s smiling at him so widely that it makes his knees weak. He’s close enough now to see a soft pink flush on her cheeks and he so badly wants to press his hands to it, to pull her close, to maybe kiss her, taste her lips, which are slightly red and shining with lip gloss. 

Maybe he’s had too much to drink. 

Anyway, he’s not able to get close enough to do anything because Callie’s stepping in front of him, throwing her arms around him in a hug and screaming about his win. He’s taken aback by her presence but tries to play it off, hugging her back. “Let’s celebrate later,” she says. She’s clearly still drunk because she tries to wink at him but both of her eyes go all weird. “You know where to find me.”

She’s off after that, wobbling away, and he doesn’t care enough to watch her go because Rory is thankfully still standing there. 

“Hey,” he says to her, closing the distance between them in three steps. She’s still clinging to that sunshine scent but she smells a bit like whiskey too. 

She had been looking at Callie but when she turns to him at the sound of his voice, she smiles. “Hi.” Her cheeks are even pinker up close and she’s grinning at him and he nearly blurts out how cute he thinks she is. “Congrats on being the first person to ever beat Leslie at beer pong.”

Niall laughs and Rory smiles wider. He loves that smile. He’ll do anything for it. He’ll even make a fool of himself for it. 

She sounds like she’s had too much to drink and he jokes about it, his heart lighting up when she giggles. It makes him feel like champagne bubbles are popping through his veins. That word is flashing in his mind again. Reckless. Because he’s selfish and he’s trying to figure out a way to steal more time with her. Because she’s here and she’s laughing and she’s looking at him like she wants to kiss him too. Is he imagining that?

“Wanna come back to mine and say hello to Spike?” he asks. He wants to make her laugh again. 

“Mmmm.” She’s still grinning. “I was just about to head back to my place. Hanna from the kitchens gave me a slice of chocolate cake that is calling my name.”

Niall’s heart stutters. He tries again. “Okay. I can walk you back.” 

Rory shrugs, and he finds himself stepping closer when someone bumps into her. “No, it’s fine,” she says, “I don’t wanna pull you away from all the fun. This is like…your moment.” Her smile falters for a moment but she fixes it back quickly. “And it looks like there are others who really want you to stay.”

Niall’s heart sinks. No, he thinks, please let me have more time with you. What can he say to make this better? He’s usually careless with his words but he tries to choose them carefully now, clearing his throat and trying to sound nonchalant. “Don’t really care about others, to be honest. I’d like to walk you home. If you’ll let me.”

Those must have been the right words, because all of her features are softening now. Coffee brown eyes and raspberry red lips. She smells like sunshine. “Yeah, okay,” she says, and it takes everything in him not to cheer out loud. 

They finally get outside after being stopped a few times and the night air is so refreshing on Niall’s skin. It clears his mind of the fog of events from tonight and he’s glad for it. They’re both drunk and stumbling into one another. At one point they are overcome with giggles and Rory is dragging him through their laughter because she really wants her chocolate cake. 

“Ugh. You’re so cute.” It slips out of his mouth before he can even think to stop it and he glances frantically over at Rory to make sure she’s not going to run away from his bluntness or something. He’s surprised to find that he’s inadvertently made her blush, a deep red color that spreads all the way to her ears. He can’t help the way he smiles at the sight. 

“Jesus, Niall,” she huffs, absentmindedly tucking her hair back. Niall has to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it, the memory of its softness tingling against his skin. “You can’t just say things like that. And besides, after tonight, you’re the one everyone’s gonna be talking about.” He must look at her questioningly because she continues. “You’re like a hotshot now. Beer pong champ and a Shack boy? All the girls are gonna be falling at your feet. If they weren’t already, that is.”

She’s grinning at him and waggling her brows but Niall can’t find it in himself to be playful about this. Still, he forces out a laugh. “Not really, no.” 

Rory lets out a scoff, flipping her hair back. “Nonsense. Have you seen yourself?” This time Niall’s the one blushing. “I mean, Callie was basically drooling over you tonight. And she’s picky.”

He nearly groans. Why does the Callie thing keep following him around tonight? He knows Rory’s joking but he really doesn’t want to keep talking about her. 

“I dunno. I just kind of mind my own business. I’m not interested in the messiness of it all…the whole ‘Shack boy’ thing.” They’re close to Rory’s place now and this conversation feels like it’s taking a turn. And not in a good way. He tries to think of something to get them back on track, to get them laughing at nothing like they just were. But then Rory is talking again. 

“Why didn’t you do it?” She’s slurring again, and he thinks she might be changing the subject. 

“Do what?” 

She stalls for a moment, a tension seeping into the air, and it’s only then that he looks at her again. She appears to be thinking hard about something, the corner of her mouth pulled downwards. “Why didn’t you stay back? Like, Callie was clearly into you. She even invited you to—” She huffs. “Why didn’t you—”

“Jesus Rory.” He’s exasperated now because he really doesn’t like this conversation. How does she still not get it? He wants to spend time with her, not anyone else. Going to this party really was a terrible idea on his part. “I didn’t want to do anything with Callie.”

“I mean, I’m not judging you. It’s a party and that’s a thing. That happens. At parties. I think.” She’s drunk and she’s rambling and Niall wants to pull his hair out in frustration because how can he convince her that nothing is as she’s thinking at all. 

They’ve stopped walking because he’s annoyed now. All night he’s wanted to be with her. All night he’s been trying to spend time with her. How can she not see it when everyone else—complete strangers—have mentioned it to him. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” He doesn’t mean to sound so upset but he is. He's drunk and really fucking upset. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”

Rory looks confused and he suddenly feels bad. “What? I don’t know—”

Jesus. She can’t be serious. He’s really going to have to spell this out for her. Rory and her big brown eyes and her sunshine smell. He’s so weak for her and she’s acting like she can’t see it. “Rory, there is no way you have no idea what I’m talking about. You can’t possibly be that oblivious.” She is, apparently, because she looks at him blankly and asks what he’s going on about. He thinks he groans her name out because what? Jayden mentioned it. Johnny mentioned it. Everyone at this goddamn resort has somehow figured out that he’s hopelessly in love with her and yet Rory is still the last to know. “Callie wasn’t the one I wanted to make out with!” he finally blurts out.

He looks at her to see if she’s pieced it together yet but she just stares at him. Her blush is back too. “Then…who—” 

“You!” The word echoes around them. The trees, the grass, the lampposts, all of them throw his voice back at the both of them. “You, Rory. This whole summer it’s been—” And, god, he can’t take it anymore. She’s inches away and watching him like she’s surprised and he’s suddenly so desperate to get her to believe that it’s true and he likes her and he wants to spend all his time with her and he can’t get her out of his stupid head. 

He’s desperate and he wants so much and she’s here and she smells like sunshine and he’s suddenly reaching for her and crashing his lips against hers because he doesn’t know what else to fucking do. Rory leans back like she’s falling and his arms find her waist to hold her against him and her body does this thing like it’s melting into him and holy shit, he’s kissing Rory Bhatt. 

And she’s kissing him back. Her head tilts, hands pulling him closer, throat releasing a sound that drains all the blood out of his head and he suddenly can’t even remember his own name. Her soft hair is tangled into his fingers, her lips tasting like fucking raspberry and rum and he nearly laughs because she smells like the sun and she tastes like it too.

She’s kissing him back and it’s frantic movements and heated touches and his skin is burning up like he’s Icarus and he’s gotten too close to the sun. She moans into his mouth again and he thinks he might faint. 

But then her hands trail from his neck to his shoulders to his chest, pressing slightly like she’s going to push him away, and suddenly his wits come back to him and he’s falling from the sky and crashing back to earth. 

Shit, he’s thinking. Shit shit shit. He’s drunk and he kissed her. She’s drunk and he kissed her. He wasn’t thinking. He got so caught up in trying to tell her how he feels that he took it too far. She’s going to think he took advantage of her because she’s had too much to drink and how could he be so fucking stupid!

“I’m sorry,” he rasps out, scrubbing his hands over his heated skin which burns from the memory of her touch and her lips and her warmth. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve asked—”

“What?” Rory asks, but he can’t look at her. He’s too ashamed of himself. They were finally friends and he’s gone and ruined it because he’s drunk and impulsive and stupid. 

“I didn’t wanna ruin anything and now I’ve gone and—” Fuck fuck fuck, how can he fix this? His brain is in shambles. All he can think of is Rory and sunshine and raspberry lip gloss. He’s fucked everything up. He can’t fix this. “Goodnight, Rory.” It’s all he can say before he starts to back away, resisting the urge to just run. He’s stupid and she’s going to hate him forever. 

He walks and walks and doesn’t dare look back. He walks and the summer wind screams in his ears. You’re so stupid you’re so stupid. He walks and his thighs are burning but he doesn’t stop until he gets to his place. 

It’s only until he gets the door closed behind them that he hears how hard he’s breathing, feels the shame prickling against his cheeks. He can still feel Rory’s hands on him and his knees finally give out, his back sliding down the door as he presses overheated fingers to his eyes. 

She told him, too. He can still remember the look on her face when she did, sad and helpless and regretful. She told him about the bloke who broke her heart, who betrayed her, who took advantage of her. He had been so angry for her. And now look at him. What better is he? How could he do that knowing what she’d been through? 

She was drunk and he kissed her without thinking. 

Something is crawling along his feet and he moves his hands away from his eyes only to find that it’s Spike. He’s purring softly, tilting his head at him, and Niall reaches out to pull him close. Spike nuzzles into his shirt and purrs again, louder this time, and Niall wonders if it’s because he can smell Rory on him. 

“I really fucked up, Spikey,” he mumbles quietly into the soft fur. “She’s gonna hate me.” 

Spike licks his temple, letting out a soft mewl, and Niall sighs as he slumps back against the door. 

He doesn’t know how he’s going to fix this. 

[ben10daily]

happy day 6 of gwevin week! this fic is written for the prompt of the day: camping. possibly my favourite to write, haha. thanks again to @brooken-gwevin-weeks for organising the event!

title: you paint dreamscapes on the wall words: 1,703 summary: kevin levin doesn’t play well with others. au.

In the two and a half weeks that Kevin had been attending Forever Camp, he’d made it his sole purpose to be the best at everything. He was a poor kid with a stepdad who looked straight through him, and if nothing else that had made him deeply competitive by nature.

So he ran the fastest, and climbed the highest, and pushed harder than anyone else. Kevin tied knots around knots and made a s’more that could melt hearts.

And then the camp across the lake had a bed bug infestation.

All of a sudden, swarms of kids he’d never met before were throwing sleeping bags down in their cabins, fighting over chairs in the dining hall, and, worst of all, competing for his spot as the Camp Champ. And the two people causing him the most aggravation were the Tennysons.

Ben Tennyson was a little chump who thought he was tough. A kid who tailed Kevin around like they were friends for no other reason than Kevin personally shoved him face-first into the mud-pit during tug-of-war.

Kevin beat him at games and stole his dessert, but he still couldn’t shake him.

Gwen Tennyson, on the other hand, was another problem altogether.

-

Day One:

Now dealing with an extra twenty campers to entertain, the counsellors decided to forgo ice-breakers in lieu of tiring them all out as much as possible. That meant one thing: obstacle course.

Kevin was thrilled at the opportunity to assert his dominance so early on. The kids who knew him didn’t even bother to compete anymore. He stood at the head of the line, hands on his hips, and shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently, ready to show the rest of them how it was done.

He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand yanked at the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Can we go first?”

She was shorter than him, this interloper he didn’t recognise, with bright red hair and a mischievous little grin on her face. Behind her stood a scruffy brown-haired boy with both arms crossed petulantly.

“No cutting,” Kevin said with a scowl.

“I told you he looked like a jerk,” the boy muttered. Kevin wanted to hit him, and maybe he would when the counsellors turned around.

The smile on her face dropped, and the girl frowned up at Kevin as she tried again. “Please? We got here late because someone,” she glared sidelong at the other boy, “had to go the bathroom. The line’s super long already, and we want to see who’s faster.”

“I’m faster,” Kevin said automatically.

The girl stared at him, and he stared back, and what ensued was a staring contest that lasted all of five seconds before the girl’s friend jabbed her in the side with his elbow.

“Come on, doofus, he’s just showing off.”

Kevin sure didn’t like that. At the far end of the course, one of the older kids raised a whistle to his lips and blew a screeching note that signalled for the first runner. “I’ll show you who’s showing off.”

He took off like a shot, running up the starting ramp and balancing his way along the wooden footholds. He pushed himself to speed up, swinging wildly across the monkey bars, dropping and running again, climbing the thick rope netting and landing on the other side without hesitation. Then the hurdles, the tire crawl, and straight through to the finish line.

Kevin’s chest was heaving when he finally stopped running, but he turned on the counsellor immediately for a read-out of the stopwatch. One minute and seven seconds, a personal best. He looked back at the starting point with a wide smirk.

The two new campers were still at the front of the line, and nobody seemed to be in a hurry to get past them. From the looks of it, they were now arguing over who would go next.

The counsellor blew on his whistle, and Kevin watched as the boy ran forward, scaled across the wooden walkway, and dropped almost immediately from the monkey bars, right into the soft mud below. No upper body strength. Figured.

Above him, the girl was clutching at her stomach in a fully belly laugh, pointing at her friend as he crawled out of the pit covered head to toe in sludge. Until the whistle blew a third time, and she finally took her turn.

She was fast, really fast, and unlike the boy she had a surprising amount of muscle to back it up. In what felt like no time at all, she was in front of him, hands on her knees as she gasped for breath.

Kevin looked at the counsellor, heart beating fast, and the older boy grinned knowingly at him.

“Fifty-nine seconds.”

-

Day Two:

Kevin watched as the two Tennyson kids pelted each other with scrambled eggs over breakfast. They seemed to fit right in almost immediately amongst the other campers, in a way he never had. Not that he wanted to.

Instead, he cornered one of the other kids, J.T., to ask what their deal was, and found out a whole bunch of useless things. They were called Ben and Gwen, and they were cousins. They fought a lot, about pretty much everything, and for a while Ben had been going around telling everyone he had superpowers.

That afternoon, they did trust exercises. Ben dropped Gwen at every opportunity, until the counsellor interceded and split them up. Kevin refused to even take a fall.

-

Day Three:

The cousins faced him together during a hostile game of dodgeball, as the last three kids on the court. Kevin’s team sucked, so he’d used them as human shields for the better part of the match.

Ben and Gwen were both quick on their feet, ducking and dodging away from all the balls he lobbed across the court. If they were smart enough to work as a team, he might have been in trouble. But they ran across and around each other instead, even trying to shove the other one into Kevin’s line of fire. And still he couldn’t hit them.

Frustrated, he pitched the ball with all his strength, just as Gwen stumbled over one of the dropped balls from earlier. She would have taken the hit right to her pretty face if Ben hadn’t leaped forward dramatically, letting the dodgeball crack him across the head. Like some kind of hero. Idiot. Loser.

Ben spent the next fifteen minutes with the camp nurse, just to check for a concussion. When she finally released him with a clean bill of health, Kevin overheard Gwen talking to him outside the office.

“So, did that dodgeball knock out what’s left of your brain, dweeb?”

Ben scoffed and pulled her into a playful headlock. “What I think you mean is, ‘Thanks Ben, for saving my nerdy little life’.”

-

Day Four:

Kevin shoved Ben’s face into the mud during tug-of-war. For showing off during dodgeball, but mostly just for fun.

In retribution, Gwen splattered him neon green from head to toe during balloon painting that afternoon. After three showers, when he’d finally scrubbed the remaining paint from his hair, it started to seem a little funny. Neither of them could be forced to apologise.

-

Day Five:

Gwen smoked him on the track during warm-ups, and then again on the soccer court when he refused to pick either of them for his team. Not his best decision, actually, because that left him with Cooper Daniels who feigned an injury fifteen minutes in just to avoid playing.

Ben tried to sit at his table during lunch.

“Get lost,” Kevin told him, which seemed to have no effect.

Ben used a fork to launch mashed potatoes at the next table over, and maybe Kevin laughed but some things were just patently hilarious. That didn’t mean they were friends.

-

Day Six:

“The map says we have to go this way.”

“You’re holding it upside down.”

“Did you just throw our compass into the lake?”

Gwen and Kevin spent five hours lost in the woods during a scavenger hunt.

It got dark outside while they were walking in circles, and she was leaning really close to him, even after insisting only babies were scared of the dark. They didn’t hold hands, no matter what the rumours said. He didn’t tell her about his real dad when they were sat back to back on a rock waiting to be rescued. Well, nobody could prove it anyway.

-

By the end of the week, Kevin was reaching the end of his tether. He was sick of Ben Tennyson breathing down his neck, and sick of following the back of Gwen’s head when she sprinted past him on the track field.

And then, like the sun emerging unexpectedly on an overcast day, a call came through that all the bed bugs had been fumigated safely. The camp was clean, and it was time to say goodbye.

Kevin looked on at the noisy campers filing back into their waiting paddle boats with a summer’s worth of luggage in hand. All sixteen of them were rowing back to their own side of the lake in pairs, shrinking into specks in the distance. Good riddance, he thought.

Ben and Gwen were the last ones left on the dock, and Kevin watched them stoically as they waved goodbye to their temporary cabin-mates.

Until, as if sensing his gaze, Gwen turned and caught his eye. He looked away first, unwilling to get caught in another staring contest, but she ran over to him anyway, fishing something small out of her pocket as she approached.

Kevin scowled at her. “What do you want?”

“Give me your hand,” she said, and when he didn’t move a muscle she reached out and grabbed his wrist herself.

“Hey!” Kevin snapped, but she ignored him, wrapping a slim pink and blue plait of thread around his arm and tying it off with a flourish. “What’s this?”

Gwen smiled at him when he yanked his hand back to study the gift.

“It’s a friendship bracelet, stupid,” she said, like he should know better. “Let’s race again next summer, too.”

[ecofinisher]

The adventures of Super Nathan 4 - Chap 3

Chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003949/chapters/71470740

https://www.wattpad.com/1019278760-the-adventures-of-super-nathan-4-chapter-3

In the afternoon Nathaniel stood in the kitchen watching over the dinner and behind him stood Luka holding a dressing bag filling into ten dessert glasses a light pink cream carefully avoiding making any mess with it.

„I believe that 5 or 6 would have been enough. We still got pudding and a small box with various pastries," Luka mentioned looking back at the redhead.

„I was afraid it wouldn't be enough," Nathaniel responded. „Or that everyone would prefer to eat something else. I'm still not sure if people like vanilla pudding,"

„I don't think anyone here disliked any of the desserts. It can come to the situation, that some may not enjoy elderberry, but it's a matter of taste of everyone's tongue,"

„I believe Lila may like it. I know she likes the elderberry syrup. There was this one day as she was pregnant she tried it and couldn't stop to want it for the rest of the evening," Explained the redhead making Luka chuckle.

„Ah I remember, but she drank it diluted, right?"

„Yes she did after the fourth bottle," Nathaniel answered. „Where should I have known you would drink it like that?"

„The notes on the bottle?" Luka responded making Nathaniel frown.

„Yes I could have read them before, but I forgot. What else do you want? I'm not perfect,"

„Well I knew this since a little child, but well we're not born with all knowledge,"

„You know the time Lila was pregnant was cool and all, but her mood swings and raising eating habits were getting into the nerves with the time. I never thought that going through pregnancy would be this .....adventurous,"

„I know how you felt. You had to see Adrien or Ivan dealing with it," Remembered Luka. „I encountered him one night organizing for Kagami a pair of wool socks because she was freezing and it was about 30 degrees at night. He complained to me where that made sense,"

„If you thought that was weird, I had to buy Lila a sweatshirt where it had XY's face on it and she hates XY,"

„Now that's strange," Luka confessed. „Look I just finished this and will put it inside the fridge. Shall I help you out with something?" Questioned the raven-haired man opening up the fridge, so he could put two desserts after the other into it.

„For now on it's fine," Nathaniel responded, then Luka walked across the kitchen to look at the outside to see Marinette put the plates on the table followed by her son Rouven which carried for the mother the plates and Nathalie added the napkins on top of them.

„I will help Marinette on setting up the table," Luka announced walking through the corridor to leave the house, where he took up a bunch of knives from the end of the table and followed Nathalie to add them to it.

„See Dad? I'm helping mommy too," Rouven announced proudly making his father smile.

„You're doing a great job, buddy," Complimented the man making his son smile, then watch his mother take the last place of his hands afterward Marinette pecked the boy on the cheek.

„Thank you so much, my little prince," Marinette said, then Rouven held up for his father his hand to earn a high five, but before he earned it he spotted the boy Elliot Agreste enter into the lot of the Kurtzbergs along with his parents making Rouven smile excited, then he ran to encounter the blonde boy giving him a high five leaving Luka back chuckling at seeing the two friends.

„You're here too!" Rouven mentioned making Elliot nod.

„I'm surprised to see you here Adrien," Luka mentioned looking at the adult, which nodded.

„Kagami told me she forgot about today's occasion and told me about it, but I insisted to come along. I took one of the books to any chance I got to use it," Adrien mentioned. „You know because of the exam,"

„Take a break Adrien, you have probably studied the entire day for it. Enjoy the time you're here with us," Luka offered making Adrien smile.

„Thanks for the offer, but I still prefer to focus a little on the learning. We watched before along with Elliot and Hope the movie they were watching yesterday on repeat today," Adrien explained placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

„I can't believe Rocky was the bad guy. He was always very nice to everyone," Elliot complained making Adrien chuckle and caress the boy on his face.

„The plot is a little hard for your age to follow champ. We can later on try to explain to you what led Rocky to be the bad guy in the movie," Mentioned the blonde man earning a nod from the son.

„Hey Elliot wanna play tag with me?" Questioned Rouven earning a nod from Elliot, then Rouven touched Elliot on the elbow and ran off. „You're it!" Shouted the raven-haired boy making Elliot laugh and run behind the friend. Nathalie chuckled at seeing the two boys run, then watched Elliot stop and look at her, then he made his way toward the girl scaring her off to run along with Rouven away from him and began to laugh with the boys playing the tag game.

Later on, the adults sat at the table chatting with the exception of Adrien, which had his nose inside a book to study.

„We're still working on animal-themed suits for the singing competition, which will start in September. It's quite hard to design an ostrich-themed costume for someone on the stage," Marinette explained earning a nod from Kagami.

„Who will be wearing the outfit?" Questioned Kagami. „Do you already know that?"

„No, we receive the measurements and along with them we have to create the costume,"

„What costumes are also being designed if I may ask?" Questioned the redhead.

„Sure you can. The ones we're working on currently are a dinosaur, a dog, a zebra, and a penguin," Responded Luka's wife. „The upcoming ones are an albatross, a leopard, a crab, and a clownfish,"

„Wow the last two sound hard,"

„Believe me, this will be a challenge,"

„I saw the work you were doing on that ostrich. I believe you and the others will be really successful with them either," Assured the husband making Marinette smile and lean her forehead on his.

„Thanks Luka,"

Luka leaned his chin over Marinette's head and glanced at Adrien, which was focussed on the book and Kagami was having a glass of water.

„What do you usually do at the animal center of Mr. Agreste?" Questioned Luka looking at Kagami.

„Check orders for the house, appointments, follow requests of adoptions or visits, notice down specific changes of certain animals in and outside of the cage, moving them around. Pretty much the same as my mother-in-law is doing," Kagami responded. „It's not every day the same, but it has lots of aspects that are fixed to be done at some point,"

„You're really fine working together with Adrien's parents?" Questioned Luka curious.

„I always heard family business was difficult, because of the relationships and all," Nathaniel mentioned putting into his glass lemonade juice.

„Yes but so far we never had issues due to us being in the same family. I don't know how others have experienced it," Kagami mentioned. „Also I have only been there for about a year,"

„My parents love you Kagami. There's no way, they could think otherwise of you," Adrien commented glancing at his wife making her smile at his comment.

„How does your mother feel about Adrien?" Luka asked.

„She's fine with him, don't worry. She actually enjoys knowing when I'm not able to be around to help her, that he can,"

„A mother-in-law always appreciates this from their son-in-law," Nathaniel mentioned making Marinette giggle along with Luka.

„Indeed," Luka agreed, then watched Elliot appear walking towards his parents and placed his hand on Adrien's elbow.

„Daddy, will you play with us?" Elliot asked followed by Adrien looking down at his son a little neutral at the quest.

„Uh has it to be now?" Questioned Adrien earning a nod from Elliot.

„Pretty please?" Begged the son making Luka grin at his friend, then Adrien rolled his eyes at Kagami, which shrugged her shoulders, then Adrien sighed and placed down his book.

„Well your Daddy could really use another break," Adrien mentioned getting up from his chair, then watched Rouven come along to grab Luka on his hand to follow him.

„Dad you will be the villain. You will be Rocky the fire guy," Rouven announced making Luka chuckle.

„You're saying that now, because I have flames on the edge of my pants, right?" Luka questioned earning a nod from the son.

„What will we be then?" Questioned Adrien looking down at his son, making Elliot think.

„I will be Ken, the brother of Kiara. You or your dad will be Uncle Norm and the girl Ally," Rouven mentioned earning a nod from Elliot.

„Uncle Norm sounds like a good role for me," Adrien mentioned. „Can I keep him?"

„Can I be a boy instead? I don't know how to be a girl" Elliot questioned earning a nod from the father.

„Yeah....you can be called.....Ali or so. It's a boy name," Explained the father earning a nod from Elliot.

„Okay," Elliot replied, then Rouven ran against Elliot and waved his arms against him making a wind sound watching Elliot sit down on the ground.

„I've hit you with my wind power!" Rouven announced making Elliot laugh, then Elliot got up and swung his arms forward to pretend to be throwing water at the friend.

„Splash!" Elliot shouted, then Adrien observed his son run behind Rouven and Nathalie, afterward Luka followed the kids and packed Nathalie causing her to scream, afterward she laughed as Luka began to tickle her.

„Ken! Help me!" Shouted Nathalie, then Rouven stopped along with Elliot and the raven-haired boy ran against his father and held his hands in front of his father.

„I'm using wind on you Rocky!" Rouven shouted watching Luka place down Nathalie on the ground then fall back down on his back.

„Woah.....lehlehlehleh....too much wind.....," Luka mimicked trying to play it out to the kids the role of getting hit by a wind blow. Adrien began to laugh, then approached the kids around Luka, which began to tickle the older adult making him laugh.

„Hey.....Ali, where should I help you out?" Questioned Adrien, then Elliot pulled Adrien's arms on Luka's taille to tickle him there. „You know I have a better idea, son," Adrien told placing his arms under his son's arms tickling the boy causing him to laugh.

„No dad, stop it!" The boy ordered laughing at the tickle attack of the father. „Mom, help me!" Elliot called making Kagami laugh and get up from the table to stick her hands under Adrien's arms to tickle him making him go off Elliot and fall down on his back. Elliot began to tickle his father from behind Adrien's head under the arms, while Kagami was on her knees tickling her husband on the side of his belly.

„No, no, no! Please.....I can't hold it!" Adrien complained as his wife joined in, afterward, the others stopped watching only Elliot and Kagami tickle Adrien, then Elliot stopped still cackling from the fun and observed his mother play with his father, soon she looked up at her husband's face and smiled warmly at him. Elliot noticed their minor loveable interaction and looked up at Luka, which saw it too then gave a thumb up at the blonde boy.

Nathaniel got up from the table running at the exit of the plot with his smartphone, which he held on the road and raised his fist in victory, and looked back at the guests.

„Hey guys! Lila's is almost here!" Nathaniel announced. „Nathalie your mom is coming!" Nathaniel shouted making the daughter smile and ran toward the father, which picked her up to show her far on the end of the road a black taxi come along making Nathalie happy.

„Mommy is coming!" Nathalie commented with a smile, then the guests reunited around the Kurtzberg's to await Lila's taxi to arrive.

„Is it that black Sport class?" Questioned Kagami watching on the left side of the window a hand raise out to wave at the guests. „There she is," Kagami mentioned earning a nod from her husband.

„Wave your arm," Nathaniel asked watching his daughter obey the father with a chuckle watching along with the father the vehicle approach the last crossroad before their house, soon as the car was in the middle of it from the right side a dark-blue hatchback appeared, then pulled the brakes at the moment he crashed against the taxi causing it to flip around shrieking all the guests that had witnessed it along with the Kurtzbergs.

„Nooo!" Shouted the redhead as the taxi lied on his head and the other car stood with a damaged front beside the car. Nathalie stared at the cars shocked about what she just saw, then Marinette got in front of the two.

„Look at me you two, focus me," Marinette asked watching Nathaniel look at the car, then Nathalie began to cry and Marinette embraced the two unsure about how she should handle the situation. Nathaniel stared horrified at seeing the state of the two vehicle, then felt Marinette move his face away from the scene and gazed at her husband, which was on the smartphone typing down a number. „Luka?" Marinette asked watching him look at the cars, then she rolled her eyes at Kagami, which led Rouven and Elliot into the house, then Marinette grabbed Nathaniel by his arm to pull him away from there and she gazed back to see Adrien head towards the cars, seconds later followed by her husband, which made his way to the blue car while Adrien was trying to open the door of the driver, which he couldn't move due to it being damaged.

„I will see if they need any help. Make sure they don't get to us," Kagami ordered Marinette which nodded and led Nathaniel along with his daughter back to the house, where they sat down on the couch next to the boys, which were looking sad at their friend's state.

„Maman, will Mrs. Kurtzberg be okay?" Rouven questioned, then Marinette sat down between him and Elliot and placed her arms behind the two boys.

„At the moment I don't know what I can tell you. Dad called the ambulance and Adrien and Kagami are trying to help, where they can," Marinette responded. „The only thing we can do is to wait here for the professionals to come and take care of the rest," Marinette explained and looked at Nathaniel, which embraced his daughter tight, which was sobbing about what she witnessed. Elliot looked up at Marinette, which noticed his sad feeling and caressed him on the head, then the blonde wrapped his arms around the woman, which took him along with her son tight to her to give them comfort.

[docholligay]

The Great Nugget Caper, 1 of 2

I only got the first half of this done before I leave for my little birthday trip to a bunkhouse in the middle of nowhere, but I hope you enjoy it anyhow! it’s still 1800 words ahaha. In the MaS universe

It would not be fair to accuse Michiru of being a paranoid sort. She was not necessarily given to imagine that the world would not go on without her, that she was the only one who could appropriately care for a loved one’s needs, that the rest of the world was grossly imcompetent on the subject of how to order delivery or fluff a pillow. To an extent, she prided herself on not being overly fussy on such subjects. If Mina wanted to take M.A. to the park herself, Michiru did not worry. If Rei fed Kimi, she assumed Rei was perfectly capable of such a thing. Michiru was not some fearful clucking hen. 

But all of us fall short of our best expectations, from time to time, and so it was with the current situation. Haruka had been home from the hospital for two weeks, mostly asleep or halfway there in the first, the second slightly more alert on the couch in the living room. She was, in all medical ways, fine. Or doing just as expected, perhaps slightly better than. They had been warned that recovery from the extensive surgery would be slow, though ultimately largely rewarding. 

Haruka had taken it like a champ, she could admit to herself. After fighting against the pain of it just hard enough to prove that she could transfer in and out of her chair herself, and thus be allowed to go home, she had utterly given in to relaxation. Rei and Mina had helped chase her toddler around the house, Kimi was the sweet sort of baby she always had been, and so Haruka had felt little guilt over sleeping for an entire week. 

What she did feel guilt over, however, was her mild annoyance with Michiru’s fussing. 

It made sense, of course. Michiru had been affected by Haruka’s long stint in medical care after the end of the War as much as Haruka had. Haruka had panicked while they readied her for surgery, over which she felt more embarrassment than guilt, though her doctor had been exceedingly kind, and she had cried a little as she came out of anesthesia, which she supposed was just how she was living her life now that she no longer had that same deep well of anger to rely upon. Michiru had seen her in pain and distressed, and it had reactivated some of her old fears as well. 

Haruka told herself this, often. 

Patiently. 

Rounding into the second week, Haruka had begun to taper down her pain medication, and feel slightly more like herself. She went downstairs in the morning to watch TV and read a few magazines. She ever so slowly and carefully changed her pajamas and washed her hair. She rolled into the kitchen around noon and made a simple little lunch. She colored with M.A. All of which might have been fine but for Michiru’s insistence on helping, or that Haruka was pushing too hard and going to hurt herself. It became a buzzing background noise, like a mosquito to the ear. Haruka let me help you. Please, allow me. I can rinse you. M.A, Papa needs to rest. She had tried removing her hearing aid, to remember, in a twist of cruelty, that her hearing loss only affected the one ear. 

The grilled cheese was the last straw. 

Haruka had thick cut bacon, peppered and sweet smoked, a gift from Usagi and Seiya for her recovery. Did Usagi understand love outside of food? Sometimes Haruka wasn’t sure, but she would never complain about getting artisan bacon. She had been thinking about it all morning, until she putzed slowly into the kitchen and laid out some simple white bread, cheese, and started to fry up the carbon in a pan. She was going to cook the grilled cheese in the bacon grease. She was a genius. 

“Oh, Haruka, you must let me do that.” 

Haruka sighed. “Michi, it’s a grilled cheese. I make it for our three year old all the time.” 

“No,” MIchiru came up behind her, “the pan is very hot, and remember, she said it would be six weeks at least until you were fully recovered.” she shook her head and took the handle of the pan, “I will make this for you, my love, please, please go rest.” 

“It’s a grilled cheese.” she looked up at Michiru. “I’m not doing anything. I haven’t been outside of the house or the hospital in weeks.” 

“Haruka.” 

Haruka Tenoh made mistakes. Her heart was often in the right place, but who knew where the hell her brain was half the time. Later, she would blame this particular breach of intellect on the pain medication, and her great love of her wife. She looked so worried. She was so insistent. She clearly loved Haruka and wanted her to get better. 

She shrugged and wheeled herself back to the living room, gingerly setting herself on the couch. Michiru, a bit longer than Haruka might have expected later, presented her with a grilled cheese sandwich, or what might have been a grilled cheese sandwich in another life. The bread was charred black and smelt of burnt oil, the cheese had flowed out the side and barely caressed her beautiful bacon. The bacon had been slaughtered a second time, crisp to the point of blackness, the gorgeous peppering flacked off. There was no hope for the sweet cure. 

For the first time in a very long time, Haruka felt the icy fingers of despair close around her heart. 

There are a multitude of reasons to expand our families beyond blood or legality, to create communities that allow support to be a web of many threads and not one singular lifeline. If it had only been Michiru and Haruka against the world, it might have been too much to ask against the frustration of a ruined sandwich, and the thousand small cuts of Michiru’s worry. Luckily, Rei saw everything, even when she could hardly see. She had tried, as gently as Rei knew how, to tell Michiru that Haruka was perfectly capable of doing small things for herself. 

“Haruka is perfectly capable of doing small things for herself.” She said, in what she felt was an impressive show of gentleness. “That sandwich looks awf--not like what Haruka wanted.” 

Michiru frowned deeply. “I confess it will not win any particular culinary award.” 

“Come on,” Rei grabbed her by the elbow. “We’re taking the kids to the zoo.” 

Haruka had never loved Rei so deeply as she did in this moment. Bless her stubborn, impossible, insistent personality, at least right now. She picked Kimi up from her tummy time and moved toward the door. 

“M.A.!” she yelled upstairs. ‘Your Mama and I are going to take you to the zoo!” 

There was a tiny thundering and a shout of pleasure, but Michiru looked at Rei as if she might be both insane and a traitor. 

“I can’t possibly leave, Haruka needs--”

“Michiru, I’ll be fine.” Haruka laid her head back on the couch, eyes to the unfeeling ceiling.” 

She whirled about. “And what if there is some emergency? A fire? A flood? What if you fall?” 

“Michi--” 

“That’s why I’m here,” as if on queue, and perhaps on direct text from Rei, Mina came through the door, grinning brightly, her choppy bob bright pink at the shoulders, “I’ll fireman’s carry her over my shoulder and dump her on the lawn.” 

Michiru pursed her lips together tightly. For all the sins she could, and would, happily lay at Mina’s feet, she would never let harm come to Haruka if she could help it. Michiru knew this to be true, as well as she knew that Rei was never going to allow her to stay in the house with Haruka. 

It is frustrating, to lose, but it happens to us all eventually. 

Michiru took her purse from Rei’s outstretched hand and gave a brief huff. As Rei helped M.A. get on her shoes, and clicked Kimi into a stroller, Michiru looked at Mina seriously. 

“She needs her pain medication every 6 hours, and she can take an extra if there’s a particular breakthrough. Nothing too strenuous, or I will hear about it, and I will be terribly cross with you--” 

“Oh no, not cross!” Mina broke into a peal of laughter, “Calm down. We’re not gonna do anything. We’re gonna make grilled cheese or some shit.” 

“Nothing. Strenuous.” She walked back over to Haruka. “You’re certain you won’t need my help.” 

“Babe,” she took Michiru’s hand, “I am SO sure I don’t need your help.” 

Michiru stood for a moment, still trying to play the chess game, still trying to reason out a way that she could win the day and stay with Haruka, watching her, caring for her, ensuring that she was safe. But there seemed no way to move the king, with all of them set against her, and so she sighed. 

“Promise me that you will take care.” She shook her head, “That you won’t hurt yourself in some foolish attempt at bravado.” 

“No one wants to do this again less than me.” 

She nodded, withdrew her hand, and looked back to Mina. “Behave.” 

“Michiru!” Rei snapped from her position behind Kimi’s stroller. “Come on, everyone’s waiting.” 

“Come on, Mama!” M.A. tapped her toe and waved. 

Michiru put her purse and her shoulder and took her coat, sighing as she followed the little parade out the door, taking one long last look at Haruka. Haruka smiled and waved as they left, and the door shut behind them, cloaking the room in silence once more. 

Haruka dramatically threw her head back and sighed. “I love my wife.” 

MIna sat down at the edge of the couch. “Yeah, I have to remind myself of that sometimes too.” 

“She’s just,” she sighed again, “I know she worries about me, and I know it was a big surgery and stuff but, you know, I, I’m an adult, and I can make a grilled cheese sandwich.” 

Mina glanced over at the side table. “Well, if that’s the banner for adulthood, Michiru’s in trouble, that’s for damn sure.” 

Haruka chuckled, then looked longingly at the sandwich. “That was Usagi’s special bacon.” 

“Our lives are nothing but sacrifice for the princess,” it sounded strange coming out of her mouth. She hadn’t thought of Usagi as the princess for at least a year, she thought, but there it always was. She stood up quickly, as if she could dodge the thought. “What do you want to do today?” 

Haruka crossed her arms and looked up at Mina conspiratorially. “I want to get out of here.” 

“Like the backyard?” 

“Mina,” Haruka adjusted herself carefully on the couch, “I haven’t left the house in weeks. Michi’s watching me like a hawk. I want to go out, to a shitty bar, our shitty bar, and get a beer, and a plate of loaded chicken nuggets, and I want it right now.” 

“You realize your wife will kill me if she catches us?”

“Yeah.” 

“Noble of you to be willing to sacrifice my life like that.”  Mina tucked her hair behind her ear, “Are you supposed to drink on your meds?” 

“No.”

“Excellent. I’m in.”

[unknowncountrygirl]

Start of Something New

Murphy McNully x MC (My MC is Iris Rosewood) 

Please enjoy my first leap into the fanfiction world. I took the actual dialogue and added my own takes between the lines. 

Murphy McNully arranged his wizard chess set on the Gryffindor table, waiting for Iris to join him. He had invited her to chat before her first match against Hufflepuff with the intent to sell her on using the Thimblerig Shuffle. He hoped she would see reason with using strategy rather then brute force or taking a more lackadaisical approach.

He was so focused on arranging his chess pieces that he failed to see Iris approach and take a seat across from him at the table.

“You know,” she said sitting down across from him. “I don't know if I can keep my mind of wizard chess with the first Quidditch match today.” She had her long silvery blonde waves already twisted back into a french braid, and was bobbing her knee nervously.

“That's exactly why I invited you to play! So I can crush you at chess while your mind is elsewhere.”

“Murphy!” She said in a shocked tone, but smiled nonetheless.

“Nothing like a game of wits to remind you of the importance of strategy.” Welp, he had just blurted that out that quickly. He smacked himself mentally. “It's what sets apart the winners from the losers, the champs from the chumps, the high fliers from the low-”

“Is this invitation to play chess or just a ploy to get me to use the Thimblerig Shuffle?” She inquired with one of her eyebrows quirked in his direction. Though he didn't show it, he shifted under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Do you think my inviting you here is all a ploy?” He asked, almost fearing her answer.

“Absolutely I do.” Iris stated quickly. He had to admit, the fact that she felt he was only using her rather hurt.

“Well I can be your friend and still be actively strategizing at the same time.” He stated back, hoping she would understand that he was truly her friend and not just manipulating her.

“So you are?” She said with an air of mild intrigue.

“Only because I think it will set you up to score.” He adjusted one of the pieces in front of him, “Besides I happen to know that Orion chose Gryffindor's newest Chaser to lead our house to victory today.”

“You know!” Her elbows made a thumping noise as she plopped them on the table and rested her head in her hands, “it's suppose to be unexpected that I'm calling the shots. That's Orion's whole plan.”

“Orion never has a 'whole plan' He goes with whatever strikes him in the moment. Sometimes it's a stray bludger.”

��You're not helping.” Her voice was low as she rubbed her forehead.

“Don't fret. There's less than 1.3% chance that Hufflepuff will know what role you'll be playing.” He added quickly.

“Yeah, but, there's still a lot of pressure on me, considering this is my first match.”

“Here,” he moved one of the pawns on the chess board, “lets chat while I beat you at a game of chess.” He offered. Her big blue eyes looked up to him and he could see the trepidation and skepticism there as she rolled her eyes and reached out for a piece. “All eyes will be on you, Iris, but that's not a bad thing, people love a good underdog story.” He threw her a wink and she just grinned a shook her head.

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

“Checkmate.” Murphy said as he placed the piece down.

“Again?” Iris exclaimed, looking down at the board. “You're impossible to beat!”

“Not true, but making you think so is part of my strategy.” He told her. Iris was silent a minute, and he could tell she was formulating something in that brain of hers, but when she spoke, it was his turn to be shocked by her question.

“What you were saying, about the pressure, all eyes on you, underdogs and such...” She trailed off, picking up the white King that had just knocked over her black King. “You were talking about you, weren't you?”

“Of course! You know how much I like talking about me.” He covered up his more vulnerable side with jokes and hoped Iris wouldn't see through him. So far, for his sixteen years of life, it had worked. “Besides, it's my first house match too. Being a commentator, I mean.”

“Well, it's easier for you to handle, you never seem nervous.” Iris admitted, reaching over to grab a glass of water and sipped it.

“Really?” He smiled ruefully and shook his head, “well, that's impressive, given I'm nervous about 43.4% of the time.” He opened himself up to her, and it was the first time he had really spoken about his insecurities to anyone, but he was going to continue. Iris, from all their interactions, gave him the impression that she was someone he could trust and someone that he could rely on.

“43.4%? Really?” Iris's eyes widened at this knew knowledge.

“Listen, Iris,” he rolled his shoulders, “I talk a good game, I talk a brilliant game... But when I come into a new spot, I know what I'm up against, how I'll be remembered when I leave. Not as 'that wizard with the dashing haircut' or 'that wizard with the stellar commentary skills', or in your case, 'that wizard who's a Quidditch genius and will kick your bum at chess.” She smiled and let out a soft hum at that. “I'll always be 'that wizard in the wheelchair'.” The look on Iris's face was the kind he had seen most of his life and he didn't want any pity, especially not from her. Iris had been one of the few people that came into his life and didn't seem to see his wheelchair first, she had never even brought it up. “Which I am of course, But I'm all those other things too. So because of that, I'm always trying to show everyone all that I am, all at once, and all the time.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling rather exposed at putting it all out there all at once to her. “Perhaps it's why I'm so quick to push my words and ideas onto the Quidditch world.”

“Idea's like the Thimblerig Shuffle.” Iris nodded, her voice low and even.

“Sincerely, it's up to you. I'm done selling you on it. Just do me one favor,” he asked her, and she met his eyes. “Go out on that pitch and show everyone who you want them to remember, and waste no time.”

Iris smiled at him and nodded.

“You've given me a lot to think about Murphy.”

“When will you realize I'm your best mate and you should just start calling me McNully.”

“Maybe when you realize that's the reason I call you Murphy instead,” she winked at him and smiled brightly before standing up. “Or perhaps when I finally beat you at chess.” She added, placing her hands on her hips.

“So, never then?”

“Haha.” She grabbed a sandwich from a close by platter, “thank you, for your advice, Murphy. I really appreciate it, but I have to go down and get ready.”

“I need to prep too. I'll see you in the sky, Iris.”

Hagrid made his way up next to where Iris had stood up. Murphy was aware that Iris was on the shorter side, she wasn't much taller then he was when he was sitting in his chair, but next to Hagrid she looked dwarfed and he snickered.

“Big day fer the both o' yeh, first house match of the year, Sorry the interrup' yer game o' chess.”

“Oh don't worry Hagrid, we were finished.” Iris assured him.

“I've finished winning, is what Iris meant to say.” He and Iris exchanged glances and she just shook her head. “Have you come to wish us luck, Hagrid?”

“'Course. But I got a message for Iris, too. Professor McGonagall wants to see yeh'.”

“Oh. Is it something serious?”

“Yeh know how she is about Quidditch.”

“Ok, then I shouldn't keep her waiting.” Iris leaned over and squeezed Murphy's shoulder. “Next time I see you lets hope it's because we won.” He reached up and patted her hand on his shoulder.

“I have faith in you.”

“Really? Not going to rattle off a percentage?”

“Well I don't believe in absolutes, but it's close to 100.”

She smiled and pulled her hand off his shoulder before heading to the grand doors that lead out of the dining hall.

Murphy watched her retreating figure until she was out of sight. He had seen her mainly in her Quidditch uniforms and in her school robes, but he hadn't seen her in her casual wear. She was short, but Iris had a nice figure, and her bum was exceptionally nice to watch as she walked.

“You've been spending a lot of time wit Iris.” A boy a little further down the table spoke to him.

“Yeah, been trying to give her some strategies for Quidditch, she's got a ton of natural talent and I'd like to see her apply herself.” Murphy admitted as he started packing up his chess set.

“Well consider yourself lucky, she's normally to busy with the Weasley's, Lee and Copper. There's a bunch of us that would like some one on one time with her.”

“Yeah, well,” he replied. “The one on one time you're referring to is not something she would be interested in.” He knew that the other student was referring to a more romantic sort of one on one time. Iris was lovely, no one could deny that, even if they thought she was mad for looking for the cursed vaults. She had beautiful silvery, white, blonde hair that hung in loose waves that only made her round, icy blue eyes pop even more, with eyelashes that whisped almost to her eyebrows. Her skin was smooth and blemish free with a little round nose that fit her round face perfectly. And then her lips- Murphy shook his head, he had lost himself a few times, rattled on about many things because he was starring at her plump pink lips. He knew she wore a cherry flavored lip something because he had smelt it before when they were talking. She would occasionally pull it out and apply it and the sweet smell would flood his senses and he would wonder what the percentage would be if he tried to kiss her, if she would reciprocate or reject him.

He would bet the higher percentage on rejection.

“Oh come on, you are spending more time with her then most people these days, you can't tell me there's not something going on.” The other Gryffindor replied.

“There's not.” Murphy slammed his chess set case closed harder then he intended and it seemed to startle the other into silence. It's a painful thought, and as he gets ready to go he dodges as many feet as he can.

He had learned to expect peoples judgement before they had even spotted him rolling around at crotch level. Humanity's prejudice has induced his own prejudice against them. It's a sick kind of poetic justice, but not the deep, introspective kind. It's more like annoying slam poetry in Murphy's brain.

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

Shortly before the match was set to start, Murphy was in the Quidditch tent listening to Orion give his pre game speech. Iris sat on the end of the bench, and was leaning over slightly, her elbow resting on the arm of his chair, looking rather bored and glassy eyed.

“I thought I was a talker.” Murphy whispered to Iris.

“I've never heard him talk in non riddles before, it's kind of refreshing.” She whispered back. Her hand was curled into a loose fist, and Murphy calculated that he had a 45.6% chance that if he just lifted his own hands off his lap, and let his fingers-

“The time has come, my teammates!” Orion bellowed. “Remember, for this match, we will take our cues from Iris, once we are in the air.” Murphy looked up at Iris and she had a neutral face, if she had any left over anxiety about the game, she wasn't showing it now. “Let us go to the Quidditch Pitch and make Gryffindor proud!”

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

Murphy watched awestruck as Iris owned the pitch. She was practically unstoppable, from stealing quaffles to scoring on a keeper. Regardless, the game was exceptionally close.

“This first house match could all come down to this next move!” He exclaimed as he saw Skye, Amari, and Iris lining up. Iris was leading them, and his heart sped up as he recognized what it was she was setting up for. “Looks like Rosewood is setting up for... Something never seen in a house match! Lets call it a Thimblerig shuffle!” He actually had a difficult time articulating the words, he was so ecstatic. “The Gryffindor chasers have moved into formation! They've got the Quaffle, and great odds of keeping it!”

Iris executed his play perfectly, and it looked better then he could have hoped for. He could hear the crowd outside already shouting and talking about it. He could hardly wait for the game to be over and find Iris.

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

His chair was rolling as fast as he could get it. He was almost to the tent when he heard Iris's voice.

“Yes, but it wasn't my idea that I would be doing the deciding.” She stated. He was not going to let her simply sweep this victory under the rug. Iris was someone who seemed to constantly be in the spotlight, but she was always trying to get out of it, this time she was in the spotlight and he was going to make sure she shined. He rolled into the tent and shouted,

“240 points to 110! Gryffindor comes through with a big win!”

“Welcome, McNully. We were just in the middle of something-” Orion began but was quickly cut off by Skye.

“Right, we were just in the middle of wrapping up.” Her tone left no room for anything else. “About time, too, because Iris and I need to have a little post match chat.” Iris's eyes nearly doubled in size and Murphy felt his fist clench.

“It shall have to wait because I, too, need to speak with Iris.” Orion stated.

“Get in the queue! Needing a chat with Iris is why I'm here.” Murphy interjected quickly. He had to talk to Iris, for many reasons, Orion and Skye would have to wait.

“So... Each of you need to talk to me?” Right now?” Iris questioned, looking like a deer in the headlights. If he could get them all to talk to Iris, about the game, then he could possibly get to chat with her alone about perhaps the meaning behind why she chose the Thimblerig Shuffle. There was a flicker of hope in his chest that perhaps, yes it was the best option, that she chose it because she had a sweet spot for him, a sweet spot that could be romantic.

“Suppose we chat all together then? Let's head to the pitch!” The sooner the better.

“Fine, but I need to change first.” Iris stated, grabbed her bag and exited the tent. She seemed a bit put off, and he hoped that he hadn't angered her. He quickly left with Orion and Skye to wait for Iris on the pitch.

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

Iris was barely on the pitch before Murphy blurted out,

“I'll say my piece first.”

“Should not the Captain lead this chat?” Orion questioned.

“Rubbish! I said I wanted to talk to Iris before either of you did.” Skye stated in her typical confident outspoken voice. Doubt it, Murphy thought, and actually about stated.

“Actually I'll speak first.” Iris asserted herself.

“Oh.” Skye seemed genuinely surprised. “All right then, lets hear it.”

“A twist. 99.7% unexpected.”

“Carry on Iris, we're listening.” Orion told her.

“I have a feeling you all want to talk to me about my decisions in the match. You should know that I went with my heart when I decided which move I'd call when it mattered the most.” Iris spoke and her words made Murphy soar. “It was a personal choice to go with who made me most believe in their point of view, and that was Murphy.” She looked to him and he saw a faint smile on her face, but it was gone in an instant as she continued. “And we won! So it all worked out for the best!”

“So you're saying each of us, knowing you'd be making the moves, tried to influence you before the match?” Skye questioned.

“Whether you tried to influence me, only each of you know for sure.” Iris counterpointed. “But you each asked to see me, shared a bit of something personal and the move you favored did come up.”

“McNully! Orion! Shame on you!” Skye scolded loudly.

“On us!” Murphy questioned as loudly.

“I do not believe in shame.” Orion stated serenely.

“Well meaning or not, it sounds like we all did the same thing, Skye!” Murphy argued.

“Listen,” Iris quickly interjected holding her arms up like she was trying to calm down wild animals. “I learned something new in talking with each of you, so it wasn't a bad thing!”

“Everyone learns something new after talking with me! I'm full of valuable knowledge.” Murphy tried to lighten the mood but the look Iris gave him clearly stated not now. “That's why I'd wanted to chat, to say thanks for calling the Thimblerig shuffle.” No, he was going to continue because she needed to know how much this meant to him. “Whether you did it for me or not, getting to commentate on my own strategy in my first house match, realizing that all of Hogwarts will know the strategy by name, and know how brilliantly it works, it's got me... Speechless.”

“Well, I'm glad you approve of my decision and that I was actually able to pull it off.” Iris smiled. “I chose the Thimblerig Shuffle because I believe in you, Murphy, and I knew it would mean a lot to you.” There was a gentleness in her voice he wasn't sure he had heard before.

“I'd say the Thimblerig Shuffle had something to do with our house ultimately winning.” He turned towards Skye and Orion as if daring them to argue. But he should have known better, of course they would.

“I should like to think inspired broom surfing would have led to a far greater triumph.”

“Thimblerig shuffle, good luck trying to get that to catch on.” Skye rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Now Parkin's Pincer, that move is a classic!”

“Please don't fight!” Iris pleaded, “It was our first Quiddicth match! It wasn't my decision to make decisions.”

“So we're in agreement that Orion made this happen?” Skye snarked. Iris looked like she was about ready to blow a gasget.

“I don't think we're in agreement about anything.” Murphy stated.

“I am in agreement with myself and that is all that matters.” Orion announced and they almost all rolled their eyes.

“Agreement with yourself? What does that even MEAN?!” Skye shouted, and for a second Murphy thought she was going to strangle him.

“You know he's going to answer that question with a question, Skye.” Murphy huffed.

“Have you statistics to support that, McNully?” It was the first time Orion had ever seemed to give it back to them.

“You're all unbelievable! I should've known this would happen!” Iris finally shouted, grabbing her head and shook it.

“Stop!” Facepaint kid made all of them nearly jump out of their skin.

“Blimey where did you come from!”

“He's actually a very stealthy eavesdropper.” Iris leaned over and explained to Murphy.

“I can eavesdrop no longer! You have to hear me out!” He told them, “Iris was right, it doesn't matter how we won if we won! And you all did great together as a team and thats what matters! You're all heros to Gryffindor and we need heros!”

“Are commentators also heros?”

“Lets say that they are, McNully.” Orion smiled at him. He felt Iris place her hand on his shoulder,

“I say so too.” She smiled.

“See! You're getting along better already!” Facepaint kid smiled brightly.

“Thank you.” Iris told him.

“Well it had to be done! You're all missing quite a party!”

“So, shall we all go together then?” Orion asked.

“We shall, I suppose.” Skye agreed but they could all tell it was a bit bitter.

“I'm in.” Murphy agreed.

“Then lets go.” Iris lead the way.

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

At the celebration party, Murphy spotted Iris from across the room, chatting with Rowan by the fireplace. He supposed it was as good of a time as any to approach her and see if he could get her to himself for a bit.

“Iris, do you think we can get a moment to talk?” He blurted, “out in the courtyard perhaps?”

Rowan and Iris exchanged glances and Iris told her friend that she would see her later, and motioned for Murphy to lead her out of the hall.

He wheeled in front of her and he could feel eyes on him as he and Iris left the hall, she stepped up beside him and walked in pace with him.

“Something on your mind?” She asked before they were even to the courtyard.

“You surprised me today, and I have to say I was flattered. I knew the Thimblerig Shuffle would be the best, but to see it executed, and executed perfectly, was more then I could have asked.”

“Well, like I said, the Thimblerig Shuffle was the best option, besides,” she leaned over slightly and bumped his elbow, “you pulled on my heart strings and I followed my heart. While Skye and Orion's reasons were valid, they didn't speak to me here.” She patted her chest.

He felt pride well in his chest. Iris was a kind hearted girl, but had a fire in her that he admired more then most people he knew. She had his respect and his admiration, pair that with her Quidditch skills and her looks, she was the entire package, and he knew if he wasn't careful he would fall hard.

Truthfully, he was already falling hard.  

But he was worried if anything did come about romantically, what others would say. He knew he could take it, he had dealt with it most of his life, but he wondered what hurtful words would be spoken to Iris. He wondered how she would handle them, if it would start to twist the way she saw him.  

Would people see her as his carer? Or worse, would she see him as someone that needed cared for, like some sort of pet, not as a boyfriend to fall in love with and have a future with. Would people see a relationship when they saw them out and about, or would people think she was some paid nurse to wipe his bum and spoon feed him like he was some sort of vegetable. It's an idea so deeply burned into the brains of society that no one thinks twice about it before deciding that Murphy's capacity for a relationship extends no further than requiring someone to help him do normal-people stuff.

Or worse. Would people spread the rumors that Iris was some sort of sexual predator and Murphy was her dimwitted prey that was being taken advantage of.

“Murphy!” Iris's voice was loud and pulled him from his wondering thoughts as he looked up to her. Her eyebrows were knit together and she was looking at him in confusion. “Have you heard a word I said?” She asked, and he could tell she was a bit cross with him.

“I um... No, actually.” He admitted.

“I thought you wanted to come out here and chat, and instead you're ignoring me.” Iris pointed out, and Murphy noticed that they were in the moonlit courtyard, and they were the only ones there.

“Come on, let's go over to the fountain, yeah?” He pushed himself over to the fountain and she followed. He motioned for her to sit on the stone bench, and she followed him without a word, and crossed her legs, before leaning over on her knees.

“Murphy, we won the game, I used your strategy, and yet you are saying fewer words then I've ever known you to say. What's wrong?”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

“What?” Iris questioned, taken back by the question.

“What do you see?” He asked again, “just humor me, please.”

“Ok, well...” Iris squared her shoulders and met his eyes. “I see a wizard with a dashing haircut,” she smiled at him, using his own words. “I see one of the best commentators for Quidditch I've heard, someone who encourages me and sees my potential. Someone brilliant, and funny who makes me laugh. If you're talking about physically what I see, I see a handsome face, pretty eyes, and really nice broad shoulders.” She held out her hands as wide as he was, “what... What are getting at, Murphy?” Her hands folded over her closed knees and she waited patiently for him. He reached out and placed one of his hands over her smaller folded ones and took a deep breath. He had no idea what her reaction would be, and figured that he had less then a thirty percent chance.

“Do you-could you- see me romantically?”

Iris's eyes widened, and she blinked quickly a few times, and he felt her hands flinch under his own, but she didn't pull away.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She asked gently. He was about to answer her, but she cut him off, “because you should.” He had been looking at her hands, under his, but her words made him glance up to her. She was wearing a grin and had a twinkle in her eye he knew well.

“Iris, would you like to go on a date?” He asked.

“I would.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek, while turning her hands over, intertwining her fingers with his.