#awkwardly biding his time before he can walk out for coffee

[anto-pops]

*Taash and their mother arguing about their gender identity in the kitchen with Rook uncomfortably stuck in the middle of it*

Meanwhile Lucanis in the pantry:

[leafs-lover]

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 6: Things shift

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this, hope you like it. I only plan on 2 maybe 3 more parts of this.

Warnings: Swearing, smut (oral female receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it kids), voyeurism, 18+

Word Count: 6600

April 8, 2021

A: Hey want to go for a walk with Felix and I?

You stare at your screen for a few minutes, the message sitting on read. Since giving Auston your number a week and a half ago he has text you three times. Two were pictures of Felix, and the third was a meme.

The Leafs had a few days off during that stretch, you saw Fred a little but you haven’t seen Auston since you left his house. You also haven’t told Fred about Auston, and since he hasn’t brought it up you don’t think Auston told him.

It’s not that you did anything wrong or cheated on Fred; you aren’t in a relationship, with either man. You haven’t talked about what you are, or where this is heading, if anywhere. The season is almost half over and you have no idea what will happen after that. Last time the season ended you barely heard from Fred for three months, and Auston almost 4.

When you agreed to sleep with Auston, you never specified it would only be with Fred, only in threesome situations. You never discussed the dynamics of you and Auston, and what the boundaries were. You know all of this.

Yet something feels wrong. Like you shouldn’t have done that behind Fred’s back and you shouldn’t keep doing it without with Fred knowing. That you should talk to Fred before you and Auston sleep together again, assuming you do sleep with him again. You don’t even know if you want to sleep with him when it’s just Auston. Not that you had a bad time, it was far from it. You just don’t know what it means, if anything.

There is so much you are uncertain of, all you know is how you felt about Fred last year. Things were going great, and you talked about summer plans. They were loose plans like being his plus 1 to a teammates wedding, going up to the Muskoka’s for a weekend with Mitch and Steph. He even mentioned a five day trip to Iceland, though that seemed unlikely to happen given the amount of planning required. But everything was heading towards a relationship until the world stopped.

And now a year later, the world is spinning. People are getting vaccinated everywhere except Canada; but they say they are coming, and the countries with vaccinated people are easing restrictions. Everything seems to be heading for a new normal, but where does that leave you and Fred?

Some nights you feel like a set of holes for him to use like target practice. But other times you wake up to Fred gently brushing your hair, legs tangled beneath the sheets placing soft kisses on your forehead or shoulder and you feel like so much more.

Intimate dinners.

Sex.

Cute text messages.

Sex.

Lazy Sundays.

Sex.

Bubble baths together.

Sex.

So much back and forth, it’s very confusing. And that’s just with Fred, you can’t even begin to understand the dynamic of Auston.

He has been a roller coaster, and not just the way he throws you around in bed. The first time he was dominant, but ended it with a soft kiss. The kiss lingered on your lips for days, your mind was swirling from it. Sometimes his eyes are dark and full of fire, but other times you get glimpses of him and that kiss.

Sure you had some feelings for Auston last year, but you told yourself they were feelings of lust. Completely, 100% sexually driven. But they were just feelings of sex right? Just the heat developing in your core from being around him fogging the sense and reason of your brain.

Auston finds moments to wrap his arms around you, placing soft kisses on your forehead or your lips. Doesn’t matter if Fred is in the other room or 5 feet away he will do it. While he drives his hard dick into your walls, he’ll have eyes dark with hunger. But after they are soft, and he doesn’t hesitate to lay soft and passionate kisses on your lips while Fred is lying inches beside you.

He exudes so much dominance, both men do. You are actually surprised it doesn’t turn into a pissing match with them, but they direct it all to you. They let you think you are in control, but the first chance they get they take over. Spilling words of venom, pulling orgasm after orgasm, juices coating their cocks and fingers.

The sight alone is enough to send you home with an ache between your legs. They are patient while you are with the other one, knowing their turn is coming. Not too patient though. But through all of it they don’t fight or get jealous of you.

Until last week ago that is, running into Auston in the elevator.

When he was hovering over you, kissing along the marks Fred had left earlier in the day, you got the feeling he was jealous you had spent time with him. You don’t know if it’s because he wasn’t there or that he didn’t like that you were sleeping with someone other than him, but he seemed bothered by it. But he would be naïve to think you and Fred only sleep together with him right?

An hour before that he was mumbling in your ear while cuddling on his couch. He looked at you like he wanted to hold you tight to his chest and never let you leave. Maybe it’s just a part of who he is, how he plays girls. You know he has a reputation around Toronto, besides his performance on the ice. There are rumours that over his first four seasons he has a revolving door of women while on road trips.

Obviously this year with Covid he has been much more mellow, no rumours or stories. But you don’t know if there is any truth to the rumours, you don’t know if he’s sleeping with other women. Not on road trips, the league has strict protocols in place for road teams. But at home they are supposed to follow local health guidelines. He could easily have another girl, and you are just someone he uses when called upon.

Maybe you are just a piece for him to bide his time with until restrictions are loosened, just an easy solution with the leagues COVID protocol’s. Or maybe he sees you as something more. Either way it’s all very convoluted.

Fingers hovering over your screen you mull over everything. Just before you go to type three little dots pop up as if he can sense your hesitation. You decide to wait before replying and are met with a selfie of him and Felix cuddling in bed, tattooed arm fully on display due to his lack of shirt. A “please play with me Y/N” text obviously supposed to be from Felix coming in immediately afterwards.

You can’t help the way your legs snap shut, rubbing together in search of friction. Or the involuntary groan that tumbles out as you stare at over his arm and down to his abs. But it’s the big beady eyes of Felix that win you over and without a second thought you quickly reply with a yes.

**

“Miss, I think you dropped your keys,” you hear someone call out. Ignoring it you pan around the somewhat busy street. Car horns are sirens are heard on the streets, wind howling between the buildings making the air crisp against your face. A hand gently touches your arm and you quickly spin around on your heels, wide eyed. “Sorry,” he chuckles seeing the shock on your face “I called out but I don’t think you heard me. Are these yours?”

He holds up a keychain in your view and you sigh slightly, “yes, thank you.”

When getting ready you decided to leave your purse at home, they aren’t the most convenient while walking a dog. You threw your debit card, TTC pass, phone and keys into your pocket. Arriving out front the coffee shop a couple minutes ago your hands were cold so you reached into your pocket for your gloves.

“No problem,” he smiles.

Scanning over his face you immediately notice his bright blue eyes grazing over your face. Thick flowing dark brown hair sticks out under his Montreal Canadians ball cap, a short scruffy beard on his chiseled jaw. He looks familiar but you can’t place it.

He is tall, similar in height to Auston and Fred. Even through his black peacoat you can tell his shoulders are just as wide. A red scarf gently popping out under the collar of his jacket. “I’m Josh,” he says, and you see him smile once again, instantly you think that it is just the best smile you have ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you smile back.

“Can I buy your coffee? “he asks glancing to the shop behind you. “I assume that’s why you’re here,” he chuckles. “It’s not free though, it’ll cost you a half hour of your time through the park.”

You chuckle slightly, if you weren’t supposed to meet Auston in a few minutes you would struggle to say no. His wide smile and soft eyes are drawing you in, but on top of that he seems nice. Someone you would actually have a good afternoon chatting with. “I’m actually meeting someone,” you reply.

“Oh that’s a shame, I’m leaving Toronto in a few hours. Think I can get your number; take you out when I come back?”

Before you can answer you feel Felix brush against your legs and let out an excited bark. He jumps up on you almost knocking you over and you immediately feel Auston’s hands on your hips and Josh grip your elbow, holding you upright. Auston mumbles some bullshit to Felix about manners, but you ignore it. Trying to focus on the eager pup, when in actuality you feel fire ignite where their hands connect to you.

“Hey man,” Josh says to Auston releasing your elbow.

“Hey Josh,” Auston says politely stepping beside you. You immediately sense the tension, Auston puffing his chest keeping on hand on the small of your back. Josh’s gaze flicks between you and Auston a little, realizing this is the person you are meeting but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. You take a harsh swallow, the cold Toronto air burning your throat.

Tick tock, tick tock.

You have no longer how long you all have been standing there, likely only a few seconds but time feels like it has stopped. The only sound besides passing cars is the excited whines and yelps Felix lets out while he circles around your feet. Shifting awkwardly you stare between the two men not wanting to be the first to make a move. Finally Auston clears his throat glaring at Josh, pulling you in tighter to his chest. So close you can smell his cologne.

“Well I’m going to grab my coffee. Nice meeting you y/n,” Josh smiles, stepping around you to go through the door.

“A Hab really?” Auston jokes kissing your cheek, following Josh with his eyes until the door shuts behind him. His lips are warm on your cool skin, eyes look slightly heavy from the previous night's game, and dark curls pop out under the toque he’s wearing that barely covers his ears.

“What?” you ask confused, bending down to pet Felix who is still enthralled by your presence.

“Josh,” he nods inside and you shake your head shooting him a puzzled look. “That’s Josh Anderson. He plays for the Montreal Canadians.”

“Oh that’s why he looked familiar,” you say glancing back inside briefly, you watched the game last night and you remember him. He looks a little different without the equipment or covered in sweat, but his thick hair and smile is what stood out to you. Felix takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek causing you to laugh and look back at Auston. “You watch him for a sec so I can get our drinks?” Auston asks, handing you the leash.

Josh comes out first saying goodbye to you and giving Felix a few pets before making his way down the street. Auston is out not too long after, 2 paper cups in hand. You try to hand the leash back, but he tells you to keep it, feeding you some line about Felix being happy to see you. You know Felix doesn’t care who holds his leash, he is just happy to be on a walk but you aren’t going to object.

It’s only been two days since you saw him. Fred watched him for the Leaf’s short road trip and you spent some time over there during it. While Fred went to physio you would take him on long walks, walks too long for Fred and his knee right now. Fred joked about how close you were thinking it’s the first time you met him.

You took naps on the couch and played with him. He followed you around everywhere, whining and clawing at the door when Fred locked him out for an hour. When you finally opened the door he almost tackled you with his excitement. That night when you went to go to bed he climbed between the two of you resting his head on your chest while you fell asleep, gently petting the top of his head. Every time you saw him Felix would be more excited than the last.

“Thought you Canadians are inferior to the cold,” Auston jokes when a strong wind gust blows from the lake and through the streets. Shivering you pulling your zipper up further, pulling your toque further down your ears.

“Lets go warm up, my place is only a couple blocks away,” he puts a hand on your back to guide you. It’s the smallest contact, a slight brush against your back before his hand falls into his pocket for warmth. But through your jacket and sweater your skin burns from the ever so slight touch.

Stepping into the lobby you instantly feel the warmth of his building hit your face. “You had a good game last night,” you smile knowing he can’t see it through your mask.

“Woah you actually watched,” he teases, pulling his mask over his face.

“Yeah, you know hanging around hockey players all the time figured I should watch a game or two,” you joke. “You know with not teaching I have some spare time.”

“I’m glad you find time in your busy schedule to watch me on TV.” You give him a playful nudge hitting the button for the elevator. “How is it going with work? Find anything yet?” he asks, bending down to give Felix some pets for patiently waiting.

“No, all schools in Ontario go 100% online Monday so there are a lot of us in the same situation right now across the province. I’m sure something will come along I’m not too worried right now.”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure something out,” he says looking up at you. His black mask is covering half of his face, but from the creases beside his eyes you can tell he is smiling at you. Before you can reply you hear the doors creak open and turn your attention to it.

You notice a body in the elevator who shifts into the corner to make space. Taking a step in you are met by a tall man with broad shoulders, hood of his Nike sweater pulled over his red hair, mask covering half of his face. But you immediately recognize the eyes, stopping you in your tracks.

Auston walks into your back not realizing you stopped and Felix jumps up at his feet. Fred stares at the two of you for a second with a look of confusion, blinking a few times. Like he doesn’t believe it’s actually you behind the mask; but his eyes soften and he turns his attention to the eager pup. You shift uncomfortably, eyes darting between Auston and Fred. Auston looks unphazed a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“What’s going on?” Fred asks standing up, still petting Felix’s head.

“Just grabbed some coffee,” you say quietly.

“Yeah just hanging out,” Auston adds in. “What about you?”

“Just getting home from the rink, was gonna see if you wanted to hangout.”

Auston glances over at you briefly before back to his friend, “yeah for sure man,” Auston replies. Stepping off the elevator on Auston’s floor the three of you head towards his apartment. The two of them chat about something from the game last night, almost oblivious to the fact you are there while you trail a few steps back.

Once inside Auston takes of Felix’s leash and wanders to the kitchen to get him some fresh water. Fred lingers once his shoes are off watching you remove your jacket and boots. Once you hang up your coat Fred’s hands are on your hip backing you against the door, handle digging into your back, “you two having fun.”

His words hang thick in the air, stepping closer he pushes you in further, his breath hot on your neck. When you don’t reply he squeezes your hips, driving the handle further into your back causing you to hiss out a yes. His musty cologne and hot breath has moisture pooling between your legs, the only thing holding you up is his nails digging into your skin.

“Hmm,” he hums as you take a few uneasy breaths. “How long has this been going on smuk,” he places soft open mouth kisses on your neck waiting for you to reply.

“Uh...” you stutter, voice catching in your throat when he nips your skin. “Just the,” you mumble groaning, “one other time

“Cute,” he mumbles placing a kiss to your cheek, the edge of his lips brushing the corner of yours. Pulling back slightly he smirks at you and turns his gaze down the hall, smugness plastered on his face while he locks eyes with Auston who silently watches the exchange.

Your chest heaves and you swallow dryly taking a minute. Without another word he leaves you trying to catch your breath while he walks down the hall. Craning your head slightly you see Auston at the other end watching the entire interaction. Expressionless he follows Fred to the couch, as you try to compose yourself.

You don’t know why but you contemplate walking down the hall and saying you aren’t feeling well and heading home. But that seems obvious. And Fred didn’t seem mad did he?

The three of you sit on the couch, Felix circling, constantly bringing someone a toy or whining for pets. It’s a lazy afternoon and easy, the boys watching some golf tournament that you have no interest in. Fred mindlessly runs circles over your ankle while they chat, your head resting on his pillow.

His touch is soft but soothing. Every circle he draws you feel your blood pressure drop before you finally are at ease. Fred is smiling, Auston laughs at something he said. Everything seems fine, like you worked yourself up over nothing.

“So y/n has the hots for Josh Anderson,” Auston says part way through golf which immediately catches your attention, turning your gaze from Felix to the boys. Auston has a smug look plastered on his face while he winks at you, and Fred has a dark mischievous grin.

“Oh yeah,” Fred grins as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Apparently we aren’t doing a good enough job,” Auston grins and your eyes go wide. You hear Fred laugh lightly squeezing your ankle tightly.

“Never said that,” you whisper, so faintly you aren’t even sure you spoke. Fred’s hand on your ankle tightens and he pulls you so you’re back is flat to the couch. Quickly his body is on yours, pinning your wrists to the couch at your side.

“Is that true baby? Are me and Auston not satisfying you? Not fulfilling your needs?” he murmurs eyes locked down at you. His chest presses into you, the air around you shifting. You try to swallow, but your throat is dry being starved of saliva.

“Pretty sure he asked you a question princess.” You didn’t even notice but Auston moved across the room, his mouth is millimeters from your ear.

Tilting your head slightly, you feel a hand on your jaw holding you in place, forcing your gaze up to Fred. You aren’t even sure whose hand it is until you feel the leather bracelet brush your neck and immediately know its Auston.

“What do you say man, should we take her to your room? Show her how good she has it,” Fred doesn’t pull his eyes away, while his comments are fully directed at Auston. Another display of his dominance over you making the slick between your legs build even more. “Make her regret even mentioning thinking of him”

You practically can hear the smugness oozing off the man beside you, only answering a quick but firm, “yes.”

Fred’s body is off yours as fast as he was on you. In an instant he easily throws you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to Auston’s room. Once back on your feet they begin to remove your clothing. Fred on your right, Auston on your left, both sucking on your neck working in unison; articles of clothing littering his bedroom floor, leaving you in just your matching underwear. If it wasn’t for the two hot bodies pressed against you goosebumps would be popping all over your body.

Auston unclasps your bra, sliding his tongue along your collarbone. Fred sucks on your neck when you hear fabric ripping, your underwear being torn off of you. Fred smirks against you, knowing you have been on them for all the shredded underwear they have left you with over the last three months, but neither seems to care.

Auston’s hand makes work of your breast, massaging and pinching the nipple. Gently rolling it through his thumb and index finger while Fred manipulates your legs apart, thrusting two thick digits inside of your folds. The unexpected nature causes you to whine while both men chuckle against you.

“Most women would be happy to have one man and you have two” Auston murmurs.

“Let’s make sure she never thinks about him again,” Fred sneers. Your head falls back and you begin to moan louder, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of you. Auston’s other hand roams your back, sliding down to your ass, giving you firm squeezes to roll your hips forward further onto Fred’s digits.

If it wasn’t for both men on either side practically supporting your entire body weight, your knees would buckle. Fred pulls away slightly to get a better look at you, to watch you fall apart over his fingers. Your gaze meets his and his pupils are dilated, black with lust.

Increasing his fingers, thumb finding your clit you know you won’t last much longer. Incoherent thoughts are all you can manage, whimpers and curse words falling from your lips.

“Hear how wet you are princess?” Auston’s mouth is pressed against your ear. One hand cupping your breast his other firmly squeezing your ass. “Freddie’s hand is coated because of you,” he mumbles, you head a chuckle from the man on your right.

“This is nothing,” Fred asserts, but before you can process the weight of his words your orgasm crashes over you. Knees trembling, walls fluttering; blood pulsates through your body causing you to groan loudly.

As soon as you come down the boys release you and you almost fall over. Walking like a newborn deer on ice, you make your way to the bed while both men quickly strip. There must have been a silent exchange because Auston is quickly sitting in the middle of the mattress pulling you towards him.

Your back is to his chest and you can feel his hard erection pressed into your back as he brushes your hair aside exposing one side of his neck for him. “How many do you think it’ll take princess?” he hums his voice soft in your ear. “How many until you can’t even remember Josh’s name anymore?”

His words go right to your core, vibrating through your folds. Your chest heaves and your body shudders thinking of his statement. You know the question is rhetorical, but even if you had a number it wouldn’t be enough.

Fred stands at the end of the bed, eyes switching between yours and the slick dripping between your legs. Every time his eyes drop they stay a little longer, licking his lips at the sight. You begin to feel like a piece of meat and both men have been starved of food for weeks. You move your legs to close them, but Auston’s hands quickly grip your thighs holding you open for him.

Fred shakes his head while Auston rasps, “you know better than that princess,” in your ear; digging his thumbs into your flesh. Your entire body shivers and you take an uneasy exhale, knowing you are in for it. Quickly Fred crawls onto the bed, making his way towards your heat while someone, you aren’t sure who, bends your knees. Fred places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh and knee. The thought of what he will do has you dizzy. Flattening his tongue he licks up the mess from before, your entire body jolts but Auston firmly grips your legs open holding you is place.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles as Fred laps up all your juices. A few more licks and Fred thick fingers find your heat, curling back inside you “taste so good hun” he adds.

Throwing your head back against Auston’s shoulder you groan “fuck,” but all it does is give him a better view.

“Look at you taking Fred’s fingers,” Auston hums as you feel Fred’s mouth attach to your clit. Auston’s voice is hot and heavy, Fred’s fingers hitting your g-spot with every thrust and soon your second orgasm is building deep inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss while Fred’s tongue circles your clit, swirling in a figure eight on a continuous loop.

“You gonna cum again princess,” Auston says in your ear. “Coat his face?”

Incoherent sounds fall from both sets of your lips. You’re so wet that the obscene sound of his fingers fucking in and out of you makes your entire body heat up. Between both of their sinful mouths, Fred’s attached to your cunt and Auston’s whispering a string of filth on your ear, you are right back on the edge. Your heels dig into the mattress and it’s only a matter of time. Auston’s mouth purring in your ear, Fred’s tongue carefully circling your clit is more than you can take.

Your second orgasm rolls through you, little fires exploding in your hear. Fred slows slightly to draw it out while Auston holds you firm against his chest and you tremble in his embrace. His dick twitches against your back watching as white spills out. You sag against Auston’s chest, body tingling as your juices coat Fred’s face.

Pulling away from your heat your fog begins to settle. Fred has a dark smile, his beard coated in your slick heat. “What do you think does she need one more? Or should we fuck her ‘til she can’t walk anymore?” Fred says to Auston.

“She definitely needs one more,” Auston replies, hands digging harshly into your thighs keeping them spread apart.

“Ungh,” is all you can whimper in response, closing your eyes to take a few uneasy breaths while your legs relax, falling back to the mattress.

There must have been an exchange between the two or maybe you are still coming down from your high and don’t hear the question, but you do hear Auston say, “all you man I’m really enjoying the view.”

A hand is on your throat pulling your face away from Auston’s shoulder. Next a pair of lips are on yours, in a hot and hungry way. Immediately you know it’s Fred; not from the facial hair but the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Fingers are thrust back inside you, but your groans are swallowed by Fred’s mouth. Auston throws his calves over your shins, keeping you spread for his friend while his hands trail up your body. One finds your breast, the other finding your clit, thumb concentrating on pressing harsh circles into it.

Your pussy quivers at the contact it all becoming a lot. It’s almost too much. And then you feel Auston’s mouth on your neck and you know its game over. Being sandwiched between these men, fingers and tongues all over your skin has you pulling away from Fred for some much needed air.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, beads of sweat are rolling down the valley of your breasts. Your scream gets ripped from your throat and your vision goes white, wave after wave of euphoria rolling through you. Both men groan as your warmth spills around Fred’s wrist and onto the bed.

“God you are so beautiful when you cum,” Auston groans in your ear.

“Bet Josh would never make you feel like that,” Fred mumbles, finally pulling his fingers from you. Grabbing your jaw he forces your mouth open, shoving his fingers inside for you to lick clean. You have barely caught your breath and almost choke, but quickly work to clean your slick from his finger.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he purrs. Pulling away he lands beside you on the mattress, Auston quickly crawls out from behind. Falling backwards landing on the mattress, Fred brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead mumbling something to you in Danish.

Before you can react Auston in between your legs, hands on the back of your ankles pulling you closer, his throbbing tip pressing against your entrance “Remember the word,” Fred asks.

“Yeah,” you barely manage to say, throat incredibly dry.

“What is it,” Auston asks, waiting to continue.

“Yellow,” you manage to whisper through some uneasy breaths.

“You okay,” Auston asks, and you turn your head to stare up at him with a nod, tears resting in the edge of your eyes.

“You have to say it,” Fred says softly.

“M’okay” you say smiling at the softness of the two men, no matter how dominant or aggressive they are they always make you’re okay.

With that Auston thrusts inside your walls, Fred’s handiwork providing an easy lubrication so he gives you no time to adjust. Snapping his hips he sets a fast pace eyes dark and staring between your legs, watching his thick cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt. Pulling your bottom lip through your teeth you whimper, warm tears now rolling down your cheek.

“Just be thankful he is letting you off easy by being on top,” Fred winks rolling onto his side gently pressing his lips into your shoulder.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he snaps his hip, “figured she could use a minute,” he grunts. “But only a minute,” his hands are on your hips and he forcefully pulls you back increasing his pace causing you to cry out.

“Y/N,” Auston calls forcing you to whine as your head turns. “I think you should say thank you to Fred for taking such good care of you earlier,” he nods down to Fred’s hard member resting beside your hand. You honestly don’t think you could do much even if you tried, but when you slowly turn to meet Fred’s gaze he smiles at you.

“It would be nice if you said thank you skat,” Fred mumbles, sucking on your sweet spot beside your ear. Reaching out you wrap your hand around his length giving him a few slow tugs.

“Faster baby,” Fred mumbles, his words vibrating through your body. You try to set a fast pace, but Auston quickly has you distracted. Every thrust is hard and deep, brushing your g-spot before he pulls back. He knows exactly what he wants, each thrust calculated as he drags his cock along your walls. Every time he pounds into you your hand stutters around Fred’s length, but he’s loving it, smirking against your neck.

Each time Auston hits your g-spot you squirm and he is getting off on it. His eyes getting darker and darker, a grin tugging on his lips a little more each time. Fred continues to pepper your collar bone with kisses before working his way down your chest and back up again. His mouth is everywhere when his thumb attaches to your clit.

“Fuck Fred,” you jolt from the contact.

“Pretty sure it’s Auston making you feel this good,” Fred mumbles in your ear. “He’s the one with his dick buried inside you right now.”

Every statement is accompanied by harder faster circles on your bundle of nerves. Nails gripping your hips harder, cock sliding in and out faster. “He feel good baby?” Fred hums. “He feel good stretching you out? You’re taking him so well, you gonna cum all over his cock?”

“Fuck she’s close,” Auston announces as if you and Fred didn’t know. Releasing your hand from Fred’s cock you feel your body erupt around Auston’s dick.

If you thought the first three were intense, the fourth is pure fireworks. Every extremity is tingling and you feel lightning bolts erupt inside. Your walls flutter and both men groan as you disintegrate under Auston, melting into the bed. Neither man stops and soon you are met by Auston’s sticky warmth flooding your walls. He grunts and slows his hips, a few shallow thrusts and he spills everything he has inside you.

Fred pops his head up and looks towards your cunt, watching his friend coat your insides white. Momentary confusion crosses his face before turning back to you. Apart from the first time which Auston didn’t mean to, he has never once spent inside of you. Always spilling on your ass, tits or sometimes thrusting his cock inside your mouth so you can swallow it down. He doesn’t know when you and Auston fucked last week you told him can doesn’t need to pull out. He doesn’t know how every time over the past three months you have a moment of disappointed when Auston pulls out of you. How you are excited for your pussy to overflow with a mixture of both men’s cum.

Auston pulls out and falls beside you and Fred’s face softens. He smiles at you, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lip as he takes in your face. Absolutely fucked out and flush, hair a mess, splayed across the bed, makeup likely smeared down your cheek. Licking your lips you pull Fred’s face down for a searing earth shattering kiss.

Your hand tangles into his roots, his thumb drawing circles just below your ribcage. Tongue sliding into the others mouth and you tug harder trying to pull him on top of you but he doesn’t budge. Instead he falls onto his back pulling you on top of him.

“We all can’t go easy on you,” Fred winks while adjusting you over him. A mixture of sticky white fluids spill out and onto Fred while he lines himself up.

“Got one more in ya princess? You gonna cum for Freddie like you did me?” Auston asks and you shake your head, body barely functioning at this point.

“Oh baby we all know you do”

“Umph,” you mewl as he easily pulls you down, Auston’s cum spilling out around his girth.

Your hand quickly lands on Fred’s stomach, his abs covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your breath hitches when he bucks his hips while you try and take a minute, slowly grinding your hips, trying to compose yourself as best you can.

“Cocks not gonna ride itself,” Auston chortles from beside you.

Your eyes go wide and Fred smirks, shooting you a wink, you start rising and dropping around him, Fred bucking his hips to press deep inside you. Feeling his tip almost in your belly a slew of curse words fall from your lips. With every thrust you can feel more of Auston’s cum spilling out. A part of you thinks Fred thrusts up and pulls your hips down so harshly to fuck it out of you, but either way you are heading back towards the edge.

“That’s right take me deep baby,” Fred praises his back arching off the bed slightly.

You can tell he is enjoying watching you squirm above him. Your overly sensitive cunt barely able to take any more. Luckily the time you spent with your hand wrapped around him earlier means his high is close too.

“You’re taking me so well, baby girl,” Fred praises.

“You gonna cum for him like you did for your me, huh? Milk his cock for all it’s worth?” Auston asks, drawing your gaze to his dark brown orbs. You had almost forgot Auston was there, you are barely able to focus on Fred the pound driving up into your cervix let alone the man beside you catching his breath.

“Mmgh, I don’t… I don’t think I can,” you keen helplessly into thin air.

“Yeah you can, princess,” Auston urges gently.

Auston sits up pinching your nipple and you hiss from the friction his hand is causing, mouth grazes along your throat, his mustache brushing it ever so slightly. You don’t need him, Fred’s cock driving into your throbbing pussy with every thrust. Fred will get you there, but Auston’s mouth on your neck, hand on your nipple sends you catapulting over the edge.

Fred’s hands dig into your hips and Auston’s arm catch your body as you tremble above his friend. Auston spews filth in your ear, Fred mumbling Danish praise below you, but you hear none of it. Vision whiting out, ears filled with a high pitch ring as Fred fucks you through your high. Wave after wave of ecstasy overwhelms your body, Fred gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before painting your walls white. The two men support you while Auston slowly lowers you onto Fred’s chest while you catch your breath.

Auston leans on his elbow beside you, brushing your hair drenched with sweat from your forehead. Both you and Fred are breathless, clammy with sweat as his dick softens inside of you.

“So you learn to keep other guy’s names out of your mouth,” Auston sneers .

“I was obviously joking,” you groan while Fred brings a hand up to lightly draw on your back.

“Wasn’t very funny,” Fred adds.

“One Andersen is more than enough,” you try to push off of Fred put he tightens his grip wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you back down to his chest.

You hear Auston’s feet on the wood floor, and he returns a minute later with some water and a damp wash cloth. Fred gingerly lifts your body, sliding his cock out as some cum spills out. Once off him, Auston hands you the glass and Fred the towel who gently wipes between your legs while you whimper from the contact.

Auston having found some boxers, pulls a t-shirt over your head and pulls you back into the bed with him. Lying on your side you curl into his arm, using his tattooed bicep as a pillow, your hand lying on his chest. Fred crawls in behind you, hand on your hip, warm breath on your neck.

You hear the click clacking of Felix’s nails on the wood floor as he gets closer. The bedroom door finally open, he lets himself in jumping onto the bed and curling up between your legs and Auston as you all quickly fall asleep.

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Fast away the old year passes... (part 3 out of 4)

---

The day had taken a turn from strange to absolutely obscene in the span of ten seconds and Kíli wasn’t sure how to mentally and emotionally absorb and process what was happening.

He’d been lazing about on the customers’ side of Rosie’s counter, twisting his hips in half-moons on the dusty pink stool, eyes semi-focused on the dough Rosie was cutting shapes into for the afternoon shift. Kíli had given himself the day off, tired after three long days and subsequent nights of madness in Word Soup and had decided to stop in at Rosie’s for a pastry and a cup of strong Khandian coffee.

One pastry had turned into two had tumbled into taste-testing the broken discards from the batches Rosie pulled out of the oven. The music had been light and cheerful, the Top 40 chart with some Christmas tunes tossed in, and the bakery had been in a lull when the strangeness occurred.

The bell tinkled behind Kíli, as it’d done a few times since he’d made himself a permanent fixture at the counter, and a throat cleared. Kíli had almost gone full-tilt kamikaze at Rosie’s stunned expression, his mind instantly propelling him into the Worst-Case Scenario since Rosie never looked stunned, unless something terrible was about to go down.

Kíli had hurled himself around and forewent the step he’d used to climb into the stool, dropped the extra inches and positioned himself between the stranger and Rosie. Except. It hadn’t been a stranger at all.

Fíli shuffled his weight from foot to foot awkwardly, a boyish smile on his winter-kissed face. His hair was longer than Kíli had last seen it, braided, and fastened in traditional Dwarvish style, and he was dressed in clothes designed to be casual but were obviously expensive.

            “Fíli?” Kíli gaped when his brain caught up to the present. “Wha—”

            “I love you.”

            “—aaaaaaaaaaahhhhtt?”

See what Kíli meant?

Right there.

Strange had tipped over into the obscene.

Fíli looked as gobsmacked as Kíli felt, as though he hadn’t meant to say it, but he stood his ground and held Kíli’s gaze, blue eyes wide like a startled deer. Kíli scratched his eyebrow, biding time to think of what to say. Behind him, Rosie said, “Heya, Fee,” though her tone was breathy and nervous. Fíli blinked, turned away from Kíli to lift a hand in greeting and smile at Rosie.

            “Hello.” He said with a hint of awkwardness. And then he returned his stare to Kíli, “Uhm, I’m sorry.”

            “Yeah.” Kíli said immediately, “As you should be. What the fuck, Fee?”

Kíli wasn’t angry at Fíli for leaving for years and breaking several promises to visit. They spoke from time to time, very rarely, but it did happen, and Fíli was always on time with his half of the rent for the shop (which Kíli had insisted he stop paying, but Fíli was just as stubborn and refused to do so). Kíli wasn’t angry that Fíli had waltzed in all charming and put together, totally unannounced. Not at all.

No. Kíli wasn’t angry at any of that.

He was, however, pissed as hell that Fíli decided to blurt t h o s e three words at Kíli without any warning before Kíli had been able to get his bearings. What kind of prick—!?

Fíli cleared his throat, shifted the strap of his duffel, and skidded his gaze across the expanse of the dining room, offering hesitant smiles at the two other patrons – both of whose jaws had dropped at the sight of a celebrity casually walking in and declaring his love to the local bookstore owner. Kíli would cringe at the Hallmark cliché of it all if it weren’t for the fact that he was still reasonably ticked off.

            “Can we, erm, sit down, maybe?” Fíli asked, nodding toward Kíli’s place at the counter.

Kíli peered over his shoulder at the plate of broken cookie pieces, then back to Fíli, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure he wanted to have any sort of conversation here and there definitely needed to be one.

            “No.” He said, and just as Fíli began to deflate, Kíli added, “We’ll go to mine.” He jerked his chin in the general direction of Fíli’s duffel, “Where’re you planning to stay?”

Fíli blushed and replied, sheepishly, “I didn’t think that far ahead, actually.”

Kíli rolled his eyes skyward, “Typical.” However, his tone was light, and his lips slowly curled like a petal in amusement. “Fine, we’ll go back to mine. We can call Lobelia about a room from there.” He added because he was feeling salty.

Obviously, Kíli wasn’t so cruel as to force Fíli to suffer Lobelia’s obnoxious demands when booking a room at her inn, but the brief flash of panic that crossed Fíli’s face felt marvelous.

When Kíli turned around to say his goodbyes to Rosie, he found his plate had been transferred into a small Halfling sized box, the smell of two warmed pastries rising from within as he neared to collect his coat and give Rosie a kiss on the cheek.

            “Good luck,” She whispered as he was balanced across the counter. She winked, then waved cheerfully at Fíli, bidding them both a good afternoon before telling the two other patrons to, “Quit your staring, I will not tolerate rudeness in this establishment!”

Their jaws snapped shut with synchronized click.

[niawritess]

The Lovestruck~Chapter 18

(2nd January)

5:30 am

"So cute."

Baekhyun's eyes squinted as someone's mumbles woke him up and felt a weigh on his lap making his eyes open. His gaze went down to see you sleeping peacefully with your head on his lap while hugging his arm around your neck making him smile.

He looked up to see a nurse checking up on Ria and walked out flashing a smile at you two. You woke up feeling your hair being tucked behind your ear and instantly locked eyes with Baekhyun.

"Oh, did I wake you up?"

Your eyes widened realizing the position and immediately sat up startling the latter and turned around a little to check up yourself if you were drooling and you didn't even brushed yet.

Then you noticed his jacket around you making your heart flutter but soon guilty as he would have been cold all night. You turned to see him stretching his neck and arms then he turned to you.

"Did you sleep well?"

You nodded. "I'm sorry, your neck must be aching."

"No worries, it's good that you slept well."

You stared at him blankly wondering why is he so nice to you and him being like this is definitely not good for your poor heart.

"Y/n?"

You heard Ria's voice making you both snap your head to her and saw her sitting up. You sprinted towards her making her sit up before engulfing her in a tight hug trying hard not to cry.

"Y/n? I get it, you love me but I can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry." You let go and she chuckled while you felt relieved seeing her fine.

"How are you feeling?" Baekhyun came forward behind you and Ria gave a smile indicating she's feeling better before doctor checked her and informed she's alright now.

"Thank goodness, you're okay." Baekhyun spoke as soon as doctor walked out while you both gave him a confused look.

"Or Y/n would have filled a bucket of tears." He joked giggling and Ria laughed while you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Why would you say it!?" You unconsciously hit his arm lightly and gasped realizing it but he didn't seemed to mind it while Ria watched your interaction like an interesting movie.

"Was it supposed to be a secret?" He looked at you innocently and you were about to speak but heard your bestfriend's giggling. "I know, she loves me too much."

"I don't!"

They both laughed and you closed your eyes embarrassed before the door opened revealing Chanyeol and he instantly smiled seeing Ria.

Then you noticed a middle-aged man behind him and he started speaking about yesterday's incident ending with an apology.

"It's okay, but just be careful next time." Ria spoke smilingly and you felt so proud as she didn't stretched the whole thing and the man went outside.

"You both should go home." Chanyeol looked at you both. "You must be tired, go home and freshen up, don't worry about her, I'm here."

You didn't protest and nodded before Chanyeol threw his car keys to Baekhyun and he caught it perfectly before you two walked out.

"Are you feeling alright now?" You looked at Baekhyun as he took a quick glance at you before looking ahead. "I mean, you don't have to feel guilty now."

You stared at him surprised. Were you being obvious?

"Well, I'm glad that everything's fine now because I was this close to give up on my driving." You put your index finger and thumb a little closer showing him.

He frowned. "Accidents happens, but it doesn't mean you should stop living."

You smiled at his words. "Philosophy much? But thank you for staying with me, though I feel bad for troubling you."

"You don't have to, I wanted to." He stopped the car before smiling at you and you just stared at him.

"Y/n? We've reached your home." He snapped you out and you muttered 'bye' before getting out and walked faster to your home leaving the latter confused.

***

The clock read 6:30 and you walked out of your washroom after a quick shower before standing infront your dressing table as you rubbed your hair with.

While doing so, your mind wandered about yesterday as how scared you were but how being with Baekhyun instantly made it fade away. All of a sudden, your crossed about the scene where Baekhyun hugged you and a shy smile formed on your lips.

As you looked back at the mirror, you flinched seeing your pink cheeks and palmed your cheek feeling its warmth.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you smiling? Snap out Y/n!" You scolded yourself through the mirror before walking away from the dressing table.

You weren't the only one, Baekhyun's cheeks were hurting now because he couldn't stop grinning while thinking about you and he was already missing you.

This was so new to him but he was happy. As he walked in the kitchen drying his hair, he saw boys already awake as Kyungsoo was making his breakfast.

After telling them about today, he sat on the couch with a grin and boys stared at him weirdly.

"Hyung, Are you thinking about Y/n?" Jongin asked making his snapped at him surprised. "Am I that obvious?"

"Very-wait! You didn't deny it!" Sehun exclaimed and realising it boys looked at Baekhyun shook.

"So you do admit that-"

"Yeah, I like Y/n." Baekhyun stated cutting off Jongdae and then everyone went silent for a minute then the sound of woos were erupted.

"Yah! Be quiet!" Kyungsoo shouted rubbing his ear before looking at Baekhyun. "I'm glad, you realized or I was going to knock your senses."

Baekhyun laughed but stopped when a question was thrown to him by Junmyeon.

"So when are you going to confess?"

He sighed. "I don't know yet and I don't even know if she likes me back."

"She does, I can see that but she's clueless just like you." Minseok said sipping his coffee.

"Do it or else someone else will do it before you."

Everyone averted their eyes to the entrance to see Chanyeol walking in and Baekhyun felt threatened.

"It won't happen." He said confidently and got some chuckles in return.

"This is so good to see Byun Baekhyun being threatened." Jongin snickered and got a cushion on the face thrown by Baekhyun.

"Shut up! And it's Hyung for you!"

***

Later that day, you were informed that Ria has gotten discharged and has been asked to rest for few days until she's completely fine.

You had to go to the college and you were already feeling lonely not having your bestfriend beside you but you were glad to have Baekhyun and his friends who didn't let you feel left out.

You noticed that Baekhyun and Rowoon have been talking comfortably now without any tension between which you were happy to witness.

However, one thing you found really strange that Chanyeol, Jongin and Sehun kept making weird eye gestures with Baekhyun but he kept ignoring them.

You just assumed that it would be their thing so you continued with your meal but then Baekhyun kept glancing at you and smiling which did nothing but erupted butterflies in your stomach.

***

You were currently at the café and stared at the happy Rose smiling. Well, it has been like this nowadays since the day she has started dating. Yes, Jack and Rose have been dating after their second date on the new year's eve where he asked her out and Rose have been all smiley and you were happy for her.

You felt a stare on you and locked eyes with Baekhyun who instantly looked away and you frowned muttering weird. You have been noticing him doing that a lot now wondering if there's something on your face as the way you eat, it's possible.

"Is there something on my face?" You asked.

"No, you look pretty-" He stopped realising and you looked at him with wide eyes. "I mean, you look pretty tired."

He sighed in relief feeling almost made fool out of himself and you nodded feeling your rapid heartbeat while thinking that he actually called you pretty.

"So you're going?"

"Yes, I have to meet Ria." You took off your apron before glancing at him to see his gloomy expression and before you could ask, the door opened.

"Oppa!"

You both looked towards the direction to see a pretty girl in her teen walking in while smiling at Baekhyun and to your surprise Baekhyun also grinned back.

He walked towards her and she instantly linked her arms around his making your eyes wide but you instantly recovered and made your way to the door where they both were standing.

"Y/n, she's Somi. My cousin." He introduced and you shook her hand smiling but your eyes kept lingering to their locked arms making your stomach churn.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I just wanted to have a talk." She told him before looking at you. "Hey, why don't we have a little chat? If you don't mind."

Baekhyun looked at you expectantly and you chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, I'm sorry but I have to go somewhere. Maybe next time."

You didn't wanted to be a third wheel between them, not when you are feeling weird seeing them and a pain like needle in your heart making you stuffy.

"Oh, okay."

"It was nice to meet you." You forced a smile and she smiled back.

"Should I drop you off?" Baekhyun suggested and you shook your head.

"No. It's fine, I'll go by myself. You both should catch up." You tried not to stutter as a lump in your throat was forming and you instantly walked out biding to Rose.

Walking out, you inhaled and exhaled a big sigh while placing your hand on your chest feeling your pounding heart behind your chest.

"What is wrong with me? Did I eat something wrong?" You muttered feeling grumpy before walking down the street.

"She's gone." Somi spoke as she eyed his cousin staring at you until your figure disappeared.

"You like her, don't you?" Her remark suddenly made Baekhyun to look at her. Was he being too obvious that now everyone is asking same thing. He has to control his facial expression now.

"She seems nice."

"She is nice." He stated confidently making Somi raise her eyes teasingly at him making him scoff.

"Shut up!"

You stormed inside your bestfriend's room before throwing yourself on her bed on your stomach with a groan.

"Okay?"

"I'm not feeling well, so I'm taking a nap." You said hiding your face in the pillow making a muffle sound.

"Hey! I'm the patient."

You groaned hiding yourself under the duvet while thinking about a while ago and again that weird pain in your chest erupting making you stir before drowning into sleep.

______________

(8 January)

8:15 pm

Here you were standing at the gate of the familiar Amusement Park where you have been before. Ria has been in her home for days now and kept whining to take her out.

"There they are!"

You both turned to the voice to see Sehun and Jongin jogging towards you both with Chanyeol and Baekhyun walking behind them. As soon as your eyes spotted him, your stomach did a flip and your heart skipped a beat when he flashed you a smile.

It has been like this. Since that day, you are having these new weird sensations, your heart would beat in an abnormal speed whenever he was close to you and not to mention you have been feeling nervous around him lately.

You instantly shook your thoughts as they approached you before frowning as why others are not here. Baekhyun seemed to notice it and told that others were busy in their stuff.

You glanced at Chanyeol and your bestfriend smiling at eachother and you unconsciously leaned towards Baekhyun but you being short had to tiptoe.

Baekhyun smiled down at you finding you adorable before bending down a little.

"Don't you think there's something going on between them?" You whispered eyes on the pair infront of you.

"There's something else going on too."

You frowned turning to him and your eyes widened at the closeness but somehow you couldn't back away and noticed his gaze, which was different. Was it adoration? Or you must be reading too much.

Clearing your throat, you looked away."What do you mean?"

He smiled. "Nothing."

Even if he says it, you won't understand because this has been happening for few days. He kept giving you some hints but you being you, didn't get it but that didn't stopped him from adoring you. However, he has to step up and do this directly but, boy was so nervous.

"Hello! Let's go!" Jongin exclaimed like a baby and you all laughed before going inside.

You heaved a sigh seeing the usual crowd making you uncomfortable already.

"Oh, I guess Rose's friend called the whole city again." Baekhyun joked chuckling and you instantly smiled remembering it while others looked at you two blankly.

"Oh, it's our thing." You looked at him in surprise and he just shrugged grinning cutely while others just walked ahead.

"Our thing, huh?" Your bestfriend teased bumping her shoulder to yours and you shooed her ahead.

Then, you noticed the crowd making you uncomfortable but then you felt a warm hand grasping into yours and you flinched but relaxed seeing it was Baekhyun.

"Let's go?" He asked and you nodded before he intervined his hand making your stomach filled with butterflies but you didn't wanted to let go.

As for Baekhyun, he felt giddy inside feeling your small hand against his and he just never wanted to let go of it. As you both walked through the crowd, you spotted your friends as their eyes flickered to your hands them to you both.

"Uh, she's uncomfortable with crowds." Baekhyun spoke as you both approached them.

"Okay, you can let go of her hand now." Sehun smirked at him and you both instantly let go before looking away awkwardly while they chuckled.

Everyone strolled around and riding the rides and you got to know that Baekhyun was afraid of heights since he wasn't getting on. You saw how his ears turned red when his friends told you but you found him cute and told him that he doesn't have to feel embarrassed.

After riding half of rides, you all were tired and decided to rest somewhere then walking further, you ended up in a familiar place. Sitting down on the bench under the tree, you smiled remembering it and it was still same, not so crowded.

"Y/n, do you remember?" Baekhyun pointed his finger towards the tree and you bit your lip recalling the scene before smiling sheepishly.

"It wa so embarrassing." You groaned hiding your face and he giggled at your embarrassed state not noticing the stares of the others.

"We are also here, you know." Ria commented making a weird face. "But what am I missing?"

"Uh, nothing. Let's have some ice-cream."

You both grinned like excited kids.

"Okay, we'll get Ice-creams for you." Chanyeol spoke before asking Ria about her flavor but she decided to go along with him since she can't just eat one flavor.

"Vanilla for Y/n." Baekhyun told Chanyeol as he was about to ask you and you nodded while the boys gave him a teasing look.

Ria and Chanyeol walked away and you sat with three boys before Jongin started to whine about being tired of just flirting so two of them started taunting him.

"Jongin Sunbae, why don't you just get a girlfriend then?" You blurted out your question and he chuckled. "Will you help me find a girl then?"

"Hm? Me? How?"

"Find me a girl who is pretty like you." He grinned and you looked at him surprised then he got a smack on the back of his head.

"Not her." Baekhyun glared at Jongin who just tried to flirt with you and the latter stared at him smirking as he was already being protective over you.

"Okay, sorry, junior Y/n. I was just joking." He gave a sheepish grin raising his hand in surrender. He knows you are off limits since you are his friend's girl but seeing his Hyung's expression, he couldn't help but tease you.

Suddenly, Baekhyun got a call and excused himself not before giving his friends a look of 'Don't you dare do anything funny' and at this, they both nodded raising their hands up.

As you three were chit chatting, Sehun's eyes spotted a Balloon and dart game across of you. He stood up and suggested to play but you weren't in the mood.

"Junior Y/n, Are you scared?" He smirked and your inner competitiveness jolt up.

"No way!"

"Then let's have a game. What do you say?"

"Sure!" You stood up and walked towards the stall where others were playing it.

As you stood in front of the counter, you unconsciously locked eyes with a guy who seemed to be staring at you with a smirk. You gave him a dirty look and he looked away scared of your fiery eyes before you felt Sehun and Jongin standing either side of you.

You smiled feeling secured with them before you three started your game.

"No! How did you do it?!" Sehun whined as you shooted half of the balloons almost winning over him and you did.

"Yes!" You clapped excitedly and he groaned rolling his eyes.

"I won!"

"It was luck!"

"It wasn't! You're just saying because you lost."

"Wow! Junior Y/n, you sure are good in this game." Jongin complimented raising his palm and you high fived it before looking at sulking Sehun.

"What's happening?" You looked back to see Baekhyun coming while shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Sehun and Y/n had a game and she won." Jongin told him and Baekhyun stared at you amused before smiling proudly.

Soon, Ria and Chanyeol came back after ages and as you were shoving your mouth with ice-cream, the boys and Ria talked with their eyes before Sehun leaned in to Baekhyun's ear.

"Have a good time with your girl." He winked at him and before Baekhyun can process his words, they left you alone with Baekhyun who was confused as you.

"What's happening? Where are they going?" You stared at them confused as they were running off somewhere.

Baekhyun shrugged. "I don't know, shall we stroll around?"

You nodded, though you were still confused before stepping ahead but gasped when something bumped into your legs or say someone.

"Mom." You looked down at the boy shook who seemed to be five-year old looking up at you with his puppy eyes and tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.

"You have a son?" Baekhyun hovered over your shoulder behind you looking at the boy confused.

"I know right, even I didn't know." You rolled your eyes and crouched down to his level before wiping his tears.

"Hey, baby. Why are you crying? Where are your parents?" You asked softly and he sniffled cutely making Baekhyun awe at the sight.

"Mom got lost." He replied clutching your hand tightly and you smiled at his answer before Baekhyun bend down to his level.

"Should we look for your mom?" He smiled softly while wiping his tears and he nodded looking at him with his doe eyes.

"Okay." He picked him up in his arm. "What's your name?"

"Cha Eun Woo." He answered confidently making you both chuckle.

"Ajjusshi, I want that." He pointed at the stall selling cotton candies and Baekhyun frowned.

"It's Hyung."

"Ajjusshi, Candies."

"First, call me Hyung."

"No, Ajjusshi."

They kept bickering like kids and you stared at them in disbelief but more to see Baekhyun acting like a kid to the kid.

"Okay, Stop!" You put your hands on your hips with a stern look and they both stopped. "Are you both kids?"

Eunwoo raised his small arm. "I am."

Baekhyun smiled nodding and you bit your lip feeling embarrassed before masking stern face again as you looked at Baekhyun.

"But you are not. Why are you arguing with a child? We have to look for his parents." You said sternly and Baekhyun couldn't even say anything seeing you being stern for the first time and it scared him but he liked your feisty side as well.

Well, you love everything about your love and that's the thing was happening to him and he wasn't complaining.

"Noona, I want that." Eunwoo pouted cutely while wriggling from Baekhyun's arms and he instantly put him down while feeling offended.

"She's Noona, then why am I the Ajjusshi?" Eunwoo giggled cutely making you smile and Baekhyun playfully glared at him.

"Do I look that old?" He questioned looking at you innocently and you shrugged smiling playfully before running away with Eunwoo.

"She didn't even deny." He clicked his tongue before sighing. "I can't even get mad at her."

"Do you want one too?" The shopkeeper asked and you nodded excitedly being the cotton candy lover you are.

"I have two babies with me." Baekhyun spoke from behind as he paid the Shopkeeper though you insisted to pay for yourself but he beat you before picking up Eunwoo and you looked at him frowning.

"I am not a baby."

He giggled seeing you eating cutely. "Yes, you are my-"

You stopped eating as you looked at him in surprise. He cleared his throat. "I mean you are eating like a baby so you are a baby."

You rolled your eyes hiding your flustered state as he almost called you his baby.

"Can I have some?" He asked and you nodded offering him.

"Here your change, Sir." The Shopkeeper said before smiling at your three. "Your family is really cute."

You both looked at him shook and as you were about deny, you got another shock.

"Thank you." Baekhyun smiled politely at him and you looked at him questionly before he leaned down to whisper.

"I don't want to embarrass him."

You looked at confused but didn't asked further as you two started walking with Eunwoo in his arms. As for Baekhyun, he smiled to himself wanting to be this true one day and thinking about it made him so happy.

"Hyung, I want to play that." Eunwoo pointed at the arcade section and Baekhyun smirked. "Now I'm Hyung."

Eunwoo pecked his cheeks giggling cutely and that made Baekhyun smiled before he put him down while holding his small hand.

He sighed. "Remind me, if we're babysitting or looking for his parents."

You chuckled as he was being dragged by Eunwoo with you following them. As you reached there, you saw both of them playing with games and laughing.

You awed at the sight and thinking that Baekhyun would be a great father, though a little stubborn but still great.

Approaching them, you saw them struggling to get a stuffed toy from the claw vending machine. Both were pouting cutely and saw others were staring at in awe.

"Can I try?"

Baekhyun scoffed lowly. "It's not that easy."

"Oh? Are you scared that i'll get it and you won't?" You smirked folding your arms and Baekhyun rolled his eyes playing.

"Game on!"

There you both started with a challenge but ended up cheering for eachother with Eunwoo clapping excitedly while other people were commenting but you both were too imersed to notice.

"Must be young couple!"

"They look so cute!"

You squealed as you got the stuffed toy and so did Baekhyun before doing a high-five then laughed. You both gave the toys to Eunwoo who giggled cutely talking them before Baekhyun began to play again.

Baekhyun took out a small white teddy bear and held it out to you and you looked at him confused as you thought it was for Eunwoo.

"For me?"

He nodded. "Last time, you gave me a Keychain and now I'm giving you this as a memory."

You smiled taking it. "Thank you but why teddy?"

"Because it's cute and small just like you." He smiled and you blushed but instantly looked away clutching it your chest but Baekhyun saw it and smiled before you three went to Lost and found section.

After the announcement, Eunwoo's Mother came and hugged him before thanking you both.

"Thank you, Noona and Hyung." Eunwoo said pouting feeling sad to leave you and you kissed his cheeks while Baekhyun patted his head.

"Hey, buddy. Don't get lost again, okay?" He pinched his chubby cheek and Eunwoo nodded pecking his cheek before walking away with his mother.

You both sighed simultaneously and looked at eachother before walking out to find your friends.

"Where were you two?" Chanyeol asked as soon as you everyone met and Baekhyun gave him a bored expression.

"You were the one who ran away."

He smirked leaning in to him. "Aren't you glad?"

Baekhyun looked away and didn't say anything because he was glad as he got spend time with you.

"Y/n, Did Baekhyun Sunbae gave this to you?" Ria whispered smugly pointing at the teddy and you nudged her shoulder causing her to laugh.

It was close to ten and everyone decided to leave but there was beach close to the Park which was five minutes walk and thought to visit there. You gaped at the sight of the beach at night. Sound of calm waves and cold breeze sending chills down your spine but you liked it since it was your favorite thing.

Sniffling, you shoved your hands into your jacket pockets before walking on the sand trying not get yourself socked. You turned to your side and burst out laughing seeing Sehun and Jongin doing the Titanic pose together and singing their title song.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun both face palmed at their behavior but let them be to enjoy their moment. Still laughing, a sudden shriek left your lips as Ria pushed you forward in the water and you shot a glare before doing the same.

The boys joined you both and as Baekhyun stood beside you before taking the chance you pushed him forward making him yelp and you laughed. He laughed along before getting lost to stare at your giggling face.

You stopped laughing as you noticed his intent stare making your cheeks heat up and you looked away shyly. This was so new to you, you have never felt this shy or nervous but Baekhyun was making you feel all of this.

"Stop being so obvious." Baekhyun flinched as Chanyeol spoke in his side and realising what he meant, he coughed awkwardly looking away.

You began to walk a little but startled when you felt something cold dropped on your head. Touching the spot on your head, it felt wet before it started snowing and then you heard a loud sound. Looking up at the sky, your eyes went big seeing the fireworks going off beautifully.

You watched in awe while feeling the snow in your hands before feeling someone stood beside you.

"Ria, this is so amazing!" You exclaimed hitting her arm and earn a deep groan but it wasn't Ria's? Confused you turned to see Baekhyun rubbing his arm and you gasped.

"I'm so sorry! I thought you were Ria."

"Thank goodness it wasn't her or she'd be lying unconscious now." He commented and you narrowed your eyes. "No, like seriously. For a tiny girl like you, you sure are strong."

You slightly scrunched your nose clicking your tongue before looking away and heard his chuckle as he stood beside you.

You smiled looking at the fireworks while enjoying the snow unaware of Baekhyun's stare on you.

"There's a saying, that if you're with someone you love in the first snow, your love will blossom." You looked at Baekhyun who was looking up before he looked down at you smiling fondly.

You frowned thinking why was he telling you? Does he like someone? That thought left a sudden ache in your chest.

"You still don't get it?" He asked suddenly and you blinked confusingly and he sighed.

"Can't you see what I'm trying to say? Y/n, I like you, and not as a friend but as a woman."

________________

Enjoy the chapter because we got a confession🤭😂😂😂😂

@wooya1224 @buttercupbbh @jddcfc-blog @usernameloaa

[justasparkwritings]

Exile: Breaking Branches

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: PG15 

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Timothée crosses the one line they've sworn they never would. Consequences, heartache, and despair enfold as Timothée tries to find his way back to her.

Exile Master List

        She poured the last of the chardonnay into her glass, sipping slowly as she stirred the large pot of soup on the stove. The air had begun to bite, the leaves shedding their summers glow for autumnal comfort and eventual rest as winter hit. She was cozy in an old sweater she’d kept from an ex, his alma mater printed in large writing across the front. The years of wear and tear had become embedded in the print, cracking it to expose the maroon of the fabric it was pressed upon. She loved it, despite the gnarly way in which she’d come to collect it. It was her favorite garment for days like this. The cold air of fall, the emptiness of their home, and the long days where she needed complicated recipes to occupy her time… rather to bide her time until he called.

        She glanced at the clock, he’d be calling soon, a call when he got up, before getting ready for set, or running his lines again, a call to start his day and wind down hers. She stared at the stove clock, permanently set either two minutes fast, or an hour and two minutes depending on Daylight Savings. She hated the thing; it was his purchase, a luxurious French stove with a manual written exclusively in French. Which was fine when Timothée was home, but alone she was at a loss of what buttons to push and how to fix it. Her remedial language skills were cute when they’d met, and she’d remembered a little more French from high school than she realized, but an entire manual with no pictures or diagrams? No, this was a Timothée chore that was waiting to be fixed. It had been waiting to be fixed since the first of the month, when they’d fallen forward.

        She set her silicone spoon down and admired the space in front of her. She loved their kitchen. She had insisted on spending the most money on it and their master bath. They had found the home after a few months of looking. It needed a desperate remodel, a makeover to cleanse the house of years of neglect. It was in a secluded part of LA, with large trees and few neighbors. They’d bargained down the price and tossed it into their renovation budget. Which was why she stood on their herringbone reclaimed wooden floors, staring at their gorgeous French stove top, with the intricate black tiled backsplash that stretched the length of the wall. The gold hardware popped against the forest green cabinetry and accented the large marble island.

        She sighed, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t calling today. She turned to set her wine down and glanced out the glass wall at their side garden. Tomorrow she would collect her harvest and add it to her soup, perhaps make a vegetable broth to be saved for another day in her empty home.

        Across the world, Timothée was waking up, a hangover shredding through his body. He turned and looked at the person lying next to him, before getting up and searching for his boxers. She stood too and scrambled to find her own clothing before staring at him. Their eyes met, the haze of the alcohol and the realization of what had transpired crossed their faces at the same moment. She waved awkwardly, saying she’d see him on set, before darting out of his hotel room.

        Timothée sat on the bed, head in hands. The grogginess of just waking up after a night of drinking was apparent as he tried to decide what to do. Would it be worse if he thought about it, or just called her?

        She picked up on the first ring, excitement in her voice.  

        “Hi honey, I wondered if you were going to call,” She said, sighing.

        She waited for him to say something, to greet her, call her a pet name, anything.

        “I slept with her, I, I can’t believe, we slept together,” He exhaled it out through his lips, wishing desperately that the release of the statement would take the guilt and weight off of his body. He sat quietly, wondering what her response would be, hoping she could give him some sort of solace.

        “Okay,” She said. She moved around the island to sit on their stools and took a gulp of wine. She began to bite her bottom lip as she set her phone on the counter, placing it on speaker.

        “I’m so sorry,” Timothée said, his voice cracking.

        “Tim, we have an open relationship,” She reminded him. He sensed the calm in her voice, the indifference to him relinquishing a regret she never wanted to hear in the first place.

        “I know but, this, this is a line I didn’t want to cross,” He pleads. Why doesn’t she care more?

        “It seems like you’re trying to make sense of this more than I am,” She said.

        “I just, there was a line I didn’t want to cross and,” The tears are forming, the bile rising in his throat, he tries to inhale slowly, calm himself. If she’s okay with this, why isn’t he?

        “And what? You did? Timothée, you have to live with yourself and the decision you made,” The words cut through him. They say the opposite of hate isn’t love, it’s indifference. He feels the air in their relationship starting to turn. She takes another sip of her wine and wipes the tears that have slid down her cheeks.

        Their open relationship had been a mutual decision which they’d come to after his first film away. The desire for companionship, for intimacy on both their ends was palpable. Conversations became less about how they were doing and more about what they could do to get each other off. Their relationship became twisted, and once he’d come home, they’d forgotten how to be together. They had sat across from one another in her old one-bedroom apartment, sweltering in the summer heat. Did they break up, or did they find a way to work through it?

        At first, they balked at the idea, an open relationship. Wasn’t that a phrase tossed about so people felt okay stepping out on their partners? Or was that the heteronormative notion they’d become invested in? What if, they supposed, when Timothée was gone for filming, they had an open relationship. They could sleep with or hook up with whomever they wanted? There would be no strings, no emotions. The utmost protection used, and most importantly to both of them, whomever she slept with while he was away was not to step foot in their home or her apartment. That bed was reserved for their love, and their love only.

        Did they want details about who the other was fucking? What could be shared? They started by telling each other nothing. Which became complicated when they would come together in their bed with new tricks or skills. “Who taught you that?” was a question that became common in their first year as a selectively open relationship. So much so that they decided they would share who they were fucking, but no pictures, no googling, no details on what transpired. When they shared a new trick, it was “from a buddy”, and that was it.

        They didn’t keep score, or a running tally to compare. They didn’t share details of how hard they came or what positions they used. They became so good at it that by year five, “I saw a buddy last night,” was all they ever needed to tell each other.

Which was why, in Timothée’s mind, this felt like a betrayal to both of them.

“I didn’t want this, I didn’t… Fuck, I’ve just been so lonely, and I’ve missed you so much,”

        “Timothée this is what we agreed to,”

        “I know I just, I can’t believe I slept with her,” He emphasized the pronoun, both in a show of his disgust with himself, and his deep guilt that it had been his costar. He knew how she felt about him sleeping with costars, how uncomfortable it made her when they’d walk red carpets or be at premiers. It became personal, intimate, addicting, when it was meant to just be a hit.

        “How does she feel?” She asked.

        “Well she left really awkwardly, and I don’t know if we’re ever going to talk about it,”

        “Well it seems like maybe you need to do some soul searching,” The ice in her voice gave him goosebumps.

        “Babe, I’m sorry,” He said, letting the crack in his voice radiate into the receiver.

        “For what?”

        “For talking about it with you, I know that our rule is that we don’t talk about who, but I just, I felt like I needed to tell you about it,”

        “Tim, thank you for apologizing. Maybe you think it’s a big deal because you know how I feel about you sleeping with coworkers, or maybe it’s because you two are good friends and have been for years. You followed through on why we have an open relationship, but maybe you both took advantage of each other. She’s been broken up from Zach for what, a month? Maybe you feel guilty?”

        “I feel so fucking guilty. So. Guilty.”

        “Maybe you and Florence need to sit down and talk about it,”

        “Ugh, yeah, you’re right,”

        “Maybe that’ll make you feel better. Go get breakfast and lots of coffee.”

        “We aren’t called until tonight,” He muttered.

        “Maybe go back to sleep first,” She paused, the snap in voice striking her throat.

        “I love you,” He said, his voice above a whisper, wanting to ensure her his heart belonged to her.

        “I know you do,”

        It wasn’t that in this moment, when he desperately needed it, that she didn’t return the sentiment. Was her love waning?

        “When I come home, can we discuss this open relationship thing?” He asked, shoulders reaching his ears.

        “Why?” She asked.

        “I’m not happy with it,” He said.

        “Because you slept with your friend and are trying to rectify it in your mind, or because you’re unhappy with it?”

        In the best of times, he loved this about her. Her unflinching matter of fact statements, her ability to say what she thought, to ask the question that cut to the core of the other. But when he was hurting, all he wanted was for her to stop playing devils advocate, and just be there for him.

        “I just want you,” He whispered.

        “Okay, we can talk about it.” She said.

        “I love you,” He said, punctuating the love.

        “Love you,” She said swiftly before hanging up.

        She sat back and tried to make sense of what had transpired. Because Timothée had fucked up, would she now have to rid herself of the occasional relief she sought from others? Because Timothée fucked up, would their relationship become toxic and unsustainable? Was she really worried that their relationship was doomed, or was she worried that she liked her rotation of strange men?

        She didn’t know. And neither did Timothée.

Next: Five Whole Minutes

[lithalwrites]

Didn’t Know They Were Dating

For all his smarts and sharpness, Kuroo was sometimes unexpectedly oblivious. Or perhaps not so unexpectedly, Kenma supposed. Perhaps it was a remnant of his personality when he had been younger: shy and reserved, and generally not very confident in himself. Looking at him now, it was difficult to imagine the words shy and Kuroo in the same sentence. But Kenma had known him since they were young children, and he had seen him grow out of shy Kuroo into loud Kuroo. Some things, it seemed, had not completely been left behind.

“Kuroo-kun!” the vice-captain of the girls’ volleyball team called out to Kuroo as he locked up the gym after practice. Kenma hadn’t realized that she had stayed behind, but there she was, waving at Kuroo and jogging up to them. “Hi! Hi, Kozume-san.” Kenma nodded at her.

“What’s up?” Kuroo asked.

“Congratulations on making it through to the Nationals!” she said.

“Thanks. The team did great,” Kuroo said.

“Yes, but having a great captain like you helps,” she said. Kenma fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Thanks,” Kuroo said. “Is there something you needed?”

“I was wondering if you’d be down to get coffee sometime?” she asked, shooting a quick glance at Kenma, as if to see how he would react.  

This ought to be interesting, Kenma thought to himself.

“Sure. We’re usually free after volleyball practice.”

There it was.

She blinked. “We?”

“Yeah. Kenma and I?” Kuroo said.

Sometimes Kenma wondered how someone so smart could be so stupid.

“Oh,” she said, and laughed awkwardly. “Okay. I’ll let you know when works for me. See you later, Kuroo-kun, Kozume-san.” She looked at Kenma again, and then jogged off. Kenma almost felt sorry for her.

“Kuro,” he said.

“What?”

“You realize she was asking you out on a date, right?”

“Wait, really?”

This time, Kenma did roll his eyes. “Yes, really.”

“Oh. Well, I went and made that awkward for her. Oops. But I guess it’s fine, since I’m not interested in her anyway. No point wasting her time.”

“Hmm.”

 “Where are we going?” Kenma asked as Kuroo led them downtown after school.

“It’s a surprise,” Kuroo said with a smirk. Kenma sighed and followed him without asking any more questions. When Kuroo got in the mood for surprises, it was best to go along with it. He knew what Kenma liked, so it was unlikely to be something that would upset him. They walked for a few minutes, and then stopped in front of what looked like a newly opened dessert shop. “Here we are,” Kuroo said proudly.

“A dessert shop,” Kenma said.

“Their apple pies are supposed to be very good,” Kuroo said. “So I thought I’d treat you to it.”

“That was nice of you,” Kenma said. “What’s the catch?”

Kuroo laughed. “Kenma, I’m heartbroken! Can’t I treat my best friend to some apple pie once in a while?” he asked.

Kenma shrugged. He didn’t mention everything else Kuroo did for him. He was just going to bide his time…as long as he could. Perhaps the waiting game would teach him where the limit to his patience was. In any case, he expected to be waiting for a while yet.

“How’s the pie?”

“It’s good,” Kenma said. “Not as good as yours, though,” he added. Kenma wasn’t afflicted by the need to flatter people, so what he said was the truth, surprisingly enough. He had genuinely not found an apple pie that tasted better to him than the ones Kuroo made. But he was biased, and he knew it.

“Aww, thanks,” Kuroo said, and dug into his own dessert. He had ordered some strange concoction that Kenma had never heard of or seen before. It looked interesting, to put it mildly. Kuroo offered him a spoon, but he declined, not wanted whatever it was near his pie.

They were seated in a booth, and he could hear the people in the one behind him. He didn’t pay much attention to them until he caught Kuroo’s name in the conversation. Kuroo remained oblivious, too focused on his monstrosity of a dessert.

“I guess that’s why he didn’t get it. I didn’t know they were dating,” Kenma heard one of them say. It sounded like the girls’ volleyball captain.

“I didn’t either,” said an unfamiliar voice. “But it makes sense, I guess. They spend a lot of time together.”

There was a sound like someone clapped someone on the back. “Don’t worry, Sachi, plenty of other fish.”

The conversation moved on to other things, and Kenma lost interest. He looked back up at Kuroo, who was staring dejectedly at his dessert. “I don’t think I can finish this,” he said sadly.

“Can you get it to go?” Kenma asked.

Kuroo shook his head. “This is so sad.”

“Oh hey hey hey!” a loud, overly enthusiastic voice announced the arrival of its loud, overly enthusiastic owner. Bokuto came into view, and slid into the booth next to Kuroo.

“Bokuto-san, I think we are interrupting,” Akaashi said, trailing behind Bokuto.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Kuroo said, waving at him to sit. Kenma silently moved to make room for him. Akaashi nodded in thanks and slid in next to him.

“Bokuto, fancy seeing you here,” Kuroo said.

“Someone mentioned that this place had opened up and we decided to check it out. Akaashi doesn’t look like it, but he actually has a sweet tooth,” Bokuto explained happily.

Akaashi shook his head. “That’s what he tells everyone, and then he finishes my dessert every time,” he said. “What are you eating, Kuroo-san?”

“The house special,” Kuroo said. “But it’s too much. You want it, Bokuto?”

“For real?” Bokuto asked, eyes sparkling. “Yeah, I’ll have it.” He pulled the bowl towards himself and dug in. “So good!” he said, mouth full. Akaashi looked at him, fondly exasperated.

They spent the next few minutes talking, and then Akaashi decided that he and Bokuto should leave Kuroo and Kenma to themselves. “Sorry for the interruption,” he said again.

Kenma sighed inwardly. “It’s fine,” he said. “It was nice catching up with you.”

“Should we head home now?” he asked Kuroo after they had left. “I have a bunch of homework I need to do.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Want to watch a movie after homework?”

“Sure.”

 “Hi Kenma! Kuroo-san!” Hinata waved enthusiastically at them. Kageyama awkwardly mumbled a greeting.

“Hi, Shrimpy, what’s up?” Kuroo said.

Hinata immediately put his hands in front of him as if gearing for a fight. “You wanna go, Bedhead-san?” he said as threateningly as he could, which wasn’t very.

“Kuro,” Kenma said. “No teasing the guests.”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Kuroo said. Kenma leveled him a look. “Fine, fine. I won’t tease them. Much.”

“Hi, Shouyou. Kageyama. How was the train ride?” Kenma asked.

“It was great,” Hinata said enthusiastically.

“How would you know, idiot? You were asleep and drooling on my shoulder the entire time,” Kageyama said.

“Hey! I do not drool,” Hinata protested.

“Then how do you explain the damp patch on my shirt where your mouth was?” Kageyama retorted.

Kuroo and Kenma watched in amusement. Kenma pre-emptively nudged jabbed Kuroo in the side with his elbow so he wouldn’t jump in with a snarky comment.

“Kenma, you don’t trust me to not tease them?” Kuroo asked.

“No.”

“Okay, you’re right. But still.”

“So, how’s it going?” Hinata asked Kenma later. At some point, Kageyama had started talking to Kuroo about volleyball, and Hinata had fallen back in step with Kenma. He looked at him eagerly for an answer. Kenma sighed and shook his head. “Still no? You should just tell him,” Hinata said.

Kenma had never imagined that the day would come when Hinata would be offering him advice about this, of all things. “I actually might, if this keeps up. We’ll see.”

“Keep me updated! You know, I’m still surprised that it’s the way it is. Most of Karasuno thinks what I first did,” Hinata mused.

“They’re not the only ones,” Kenma replied with a sigh, remembering the dessert shop, and Akaashi and Bokuto.

 “Captain!” Lev yelled loudly at the end of practice a few days later.

“What?” Kuroo yelled back just as loudly, just to be obnoxious.

“Do you have a date for the Ball?” Lev asked, referring to the athlete’s dance that the school held, for some reason.

Yaku smacked Lev. “Lev! Mind your own business.”

“It’s obviously going to be Kenma or nobody,” Yamamoto said.

“What?” Lev and Kuroo said in unison.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Yamamoto said. “Isn’t it normal to go with the person you’re dating?”

Kenma closed his eyes and let out a breath. He slowly opened them again.

“I didn’t know Captain and Kenma were dating,” Lev said, his eyes round. The rest of the team had gathered closer for the drama.

“We’re not,” Kuroo said.

Silence. Kenma could feel the shock rippling through the team. Yaku was the first one to find his tongue again, unsurprisingly.

“What do you mean you’re not dating? You’re telling me that you very obviously love him and just do everything couples do without actually being a couple?”

“Are you sure you’re not just pulling our legs?” Kai asked. “We all thought you’ve been dating for a while now. Like, a while.”

“It’s not just our team,” Yamamoto added. “Karasuno’s captain and vice-captain think so too.”

“Kenma, do you know people who thought we were dating?” Kuroo asked, still surprised.

“Bokuto-san and Akaashi. Shouyou thought so too at first,” Kenma answered.

“Have we been dating?” Kuroo asked next.

“According to a lot of people, yes,” Kenma said. “I hoped you’d realize it soon.”

Kuroo laughed. “Kenma. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kenma shrugged. “I was waiting to see if you figured it out. But I would have, soon. Probably.”

“Do you want to be dating?” Kuroo asked next.

“Yes,” Kenma said promptly.

“Well then. From now on, I won’t be the only one who didn’t know we were dating,” Kuroo said. He glared at his team. “Thanks for the help, guys. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Captain,” Yaku said, grinning. “Remember to treat us to a thank you dinner.”

“You wish.”  

[garglyswoof]

A slice of life kastle fic (read: nothing happens in this ok) for Luce’s birthday @lclrgsl​ because she is my favorite potato, and damn it, it’s still her birthday in my time zone so I call it a win. (IT’S NOW ON MY CALENDAR FOREVER YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE BUT LOOK HOW FAST I WROTE FOR YOU IT’S A MIRACLE)

It’s Curtis that gives her a heads up first. He leaves a message, gives a time and a place, and adds that Frank most definitely isn't aware of this call. She smiles at this, because it’s good to hear that someone has his back - it makes her feel a little less alone knowing that he isn't.

She dresses carefully, rolls her eyes at herself in the mirror even as she tries another top, and settles for a work outfit she’s always gotten compliments on. She can pass it off as running straight from the office, she thinks, smoothing her hands over her hips, the pencil skirt settling into place.

Karen isn't sure why she feels like she's on a first date. Her and Frank...aren't like that, could never be that. It's what she tells herself whenever she thinks about him and the shadow of his family looms. They're the impetus, the reason, and to find an attraction and draw so close to him for the same exact reasons she can never act on it is a cruel joke.

Maybe it's that they've never known each other outside the violence. What do you talk about when you know what lies beneath? She runs through a few scenarios in her mind and everything sounds stupid. He likes dogs. She has a new penchant for dive bars she blames on Matt and Foggy. Ugh. It all sounds so normal, it doesn’t fit.

But even if nothing seems right in her head, she can’t wait to see him, and her heels click faster than usual on the sidewalk as she nears the old school Curtis said for her to meet them at.

A few vets, marked by their military-issue jackets pulled tight against the autumn chill, are leaving when she walks in. One holds the door for her and she gives a nod of thanks, climbing the stairs to wait outside the room, where she hears a voice - Curtis - ask for Frank to hang back a bit. Her hands fidget as the meeting continues to let out, a chorus of gruff goodbyes and ‘ooras.

When the voices die down to two, she walks into the room as softly as she can, but her heels ring on the linoleum and he looks up in alarm.

He rises with a start, the chair screeching on the old flooring. His glance at Curtis is accusatory, and Karen takes a step back, weight poised to leave.

“I can-" she doesn't finish the sentence, just nods at the doorway. This was a bad idea.

“No, no,” Frank’s voice is apologetic. He scrubs a hand over his face, through the hair he’s let grow out again. “Shit, Karen. I just,” he trails off, glances at Curtis again who lifts one brow in challenge.

Frank looks at her pleadingly, holding up a finger to ask for a minute and she nods, stepping just outside the doorway. She hears footsteps and Frank's rough voice, first in an unintelligible whisper, the tail of it becoming audible as his voice raises.

“...You better watch your spare legs, man. Gonna steal em all and replace them with pink ones. Rainbows on em. See what the boys think about that.”

Curtis’ response makes her smile, and she can almost see his nonchalant shrug. “Bring it, ladies love a man in touch with his feminine side.”

She's getting over the shock of Frank’s laugh when he appears in front of her, his eyes sweeping across her, studying the exits, coming back to rest on her face. “Saw your article last week,” he says, starting down the stairs and motioning for her to follow. “I liked it. It was a topic that won't get you shot,” he says, and she smiles. Her latest exposé on grocery store butcher counters had certainly been safe.

“That was the most boring article I've written yet. But thanks.”

He glances as her as he hits the push bar on the school doors, evening splaying its last rays of light across the entranceway.

“Coffee?” he asks and, at her nod grins and places his hand in the small of her back, an unconscious steering as they walk down the stairs, her heels clicking on the cement.

It’s weird. To walk with him instead of run. To have her heart beating at normal speed instead of almost tearing out of her chest. To feel safe not just because she's with him, but because the situation is. She wonders if he feels the same, looks up to find his eyes searching hers. Maybe he does.

She tamps down her nervousness as they enter the diner, the formica tables so similar to the ones in that diner not so long ago that it's hard not to react. His hand brushes low on her back again, perhaps because he feels it too, and she takes comfort in the gesture before sliding across from him in a booth.

“Your face looks much better this time,” she says, because she's never been one to dance around the issue.

He cocks a half grin at her, reaches for a ketchup-stained menu held up by a set of salt and pepper shakers. “Yeh. Suppose it does.” His eyes cloud for a moment and dart away, and she ducks her head down to try to meet his eyes again, trying to pull him back. He sees her and lets out a quick breath, eyes locked on her own. “Got no idea what I'm doing, Karen.”

The words echo between them as the waitress comes, pouring coffee at Frank’s nod and murmuring an ‘Ok, sweetie, you just tell me if you need anything’ at Karen’s head shake.

“None of us do,” Karen finally says.

“Not everyone's done what I've done.”

“And you just let your past own you?”

“No, that's not it. I mean,” Frank drums his fingers against his mug, “it’s more...who the hell am I? Who am I to sit here and talk to you in this diner in this city? I know I'm a weapon. Kill the bad guys. Wipe the slate clean. Got that shit down. So I go put on a suit and tie now? Pretend like that shit isn’t there?” He looks away, eyes trained on something outside the window that she can't really see.

It's more words in a row than she's ever heard from him and she's not sure how to respond. She reaches over and grabs his cup, takes a sip and makes a face at the bitterness. “Do you regret the things you've done?” She can tell he expected kindness instead of this directness, his eye twitches as he steals the cup back and watches her over the rim, biding for time.

“No.”

“Do you want to do it again?”

He gives a small huff of breath, mouth twisted in a sneer, and he turns it on her instead of answering the question. “What's your story, then? I know you've danced with the devil, it's in your face every time you look at me. Is that what this is? Some kinda rehab project, save Frank Castle.”

She knows he's baiting her but it still hurts, her voice clipped and angry in response. “if you want to push me away you'll have to try harder, Frank.”

He sniffs, cocks his head and squints his eyes to look at her close. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

Silence stretches out between them and she motions to the waitress, orders a cup of coffee and a B.L.T. He’ll have to be the one to leave. She listens to the low hum of the refrigerated pastry case, the bray of a laugh two tables down. Frank’s looking out the window again.

“I don't have answers for you,” she begins, his head snapping to attention as if he was waiting for her to break the silence, “I struggle with who I've...killed both directly and indirectly. But I do know that I don't condemn you, never could. I do know that I should,” she says with a smile, gives a small laugh. “But you've never been anything but honest about who you are, what you do. It’s a code I can't really disagree with. So,” she pauses as the waitress sets a plate in front of her, plays with one of the toothpicks spearing the bread. “So I'm left thinking that there's a truth in what you do, that it's something that I have to back up against rules instead of morality to even start thinking it's wrong.” Frank is unusually still. She's used to his little tics, the head dipping down, the eyes flicking over their surroundings, the slide of his tongue across his lips after a sip of joe. But he’s so focused on her it’s almost unnerving, and it makes her next words come out awkwardly, all in a rush.

“But the real truth is, when you were out there, when I wanted you to stop, it was never about those people. I was worried for you.” She drops the toothpick, reaches for her cup, but Frank’s hand grabs her wrist, turns her hand palm side up. They both stare at their hands, Frank's thumb swiping across her pulse point once before letting go, and when she looks up his face is unreadable and his gaze darts out the window again where the bright yellow of a passing cab reflects off the glass. It's like he was put on pause while she spoke, and now he’s back to life, all uncoiled energy.

“Karen-,” and oh god she hears it in his voice, the apology, so she stops him before the words can hurt her, a finger to his lips.

“Don’t.”

His lips part and they're soft on her fingers. His expression shifts to regret.

“Not that either,” she says and smiles, pulling her hand back. He shakes his head, grin stretched across his face, and her heart aches at the sweetness of it.

“Much better,” she says and picks up her sandwich, taking a comically large bite just to see that smile stay. This is how they start, she thinks, because they too need a new one.

An hour later and Karen scrapes the plate clean of cherry pie filling, to Frank’s wordless protest. The bill is paid and the waitress gives her a wink and thanks them in her rough smoker’s voice. The diner is empty now, the hour late on this weekday night, but she hadn't noticed the time, and neither had he. There’s a light rain falling now, the city streets a blur of diffused light, and he walks her home without them discussing, his long-legged gait slow so she can keep up. It would feel like a date except it’s not, but she's also not quite sure what it is.

At her door they pause awkwardly before she pulls him into her arms, her face against his neck, his head slotting over her shoulder, his hand and its slow slide through her hair enough to make her close her eyes. She knows he's not ready. She's not sure if she is either, but there's something spun between them that lies deep and she kisses him where his neck meets his shoulder as if acknowledging things to come. The yellow light from the outdoor bulb halos above them as she turns in his arms, and Frank looks like he wants to say something so she studies his face for a hint of what it could be. The light crackles, an errant moth, and instead of saying anything he tips his forehead to meet hers.

The ghost of a smile plays at both of their lips in unspoken recognition and they stay there for a few moments, breath mingling, close enough for each of them, for now.

[thesoundofnat]

Three Times Peter Helped Tony

Tony, Peter

Summary: The title says it all. Ranges from bigger to smaller ways Peter helps.

A/N: I honestly wouldn’t consider this my best work, but I still kinda like it, so I’m deciding to post it anyway lmao. Hope you like it!

Also if this looks weird on your dash it’s because tumblr hates me is glitching.

[Read it on AO3]

Words: 2 463

1.

Tony was sad. He hadn’t told Peter that, of course, but Peter wasn’t stupid and knew what those brief etched on smiles and hollow eyes meant. Tony wasn’t okay. Probably hadn’t been for a while now, but this seemed more current. The wound seemed more fresh.

He knew it had something to do with the airport fight and everything that had come after that. He had seen Tony try so hard to fix everything while simultaneously making sure Peter wasn’t taking on too many battles he couldn’t handle. It stung a little to know he was a part of Tony’s stress, but if there was one thing he’d learnt about the man was that he needed the distractions more than he needed air in his lungs, lest he wanted the pain to swallow him whole.

Peter had been happy to be a distraction, at first. It was no secret that he enjoyed the older man’s company, and god knew he had a lot to learn from him. But his finals crept closer, and smaller bad guys robbing stores never stopped, and he had to handle his crush moving away before he could even properly have his chance with her, and things became slightly too much for his sixteen year old self to handle. So he had to make a choice. Avengers stuff or life stuff. He knew what Mr Stark wanted him to pick.

Now that they were reunited after several weeks of no contact - not even from Peter’s side - he could see those bags under his eyes and the lines on his face more clearly. Tony wasn’t young anymore, and all the pressure he’d been put on was getting to him. Maybe Peter had just caught him at the wrong time, but it was more obvious than ever.

“What?”

Tony was narrowing his eyes at him, and Peter realized that he’d been staring slightly too intently at him from across the table.

Peter shook his head. “Nothing! I was just wondering if maybe I should start drinking coffee.”

Tony hummed, hands gripping his cup just like Peter was gripping his own cup of tea. “Nah. Too young. I’d say wait until college. You’ll need it more then.”

“I reckon you know best.”

Tony’s lips quirked upward. “Maybe not always, but in this case I’m pretty sure I do.”

It was a strangely… normal conversation. Each time they saw each other it was always because Peter was panicking over something or Tony needed to show him new tech. That he’d been invited over for tea had been a greater shock than Tony probably realized.

“How’s school? You acing your classes?”

“Of course.”

“Social life?”

“Other than the occasional meeting with academic decathlon team I mostly just see Ned.”

“Good. About the team, I mean. It’s good that you’re keeping it up.” Tony hesitated briefly before saying, “And how’s your aunt handling this whole - thing.”

Peter squirmed in his seat. “She was very angry with me at first. And with you.”

“I figured. Did my talk with her help at all?”

“Oh, definitely. It’s taken her a while, but she’s more calm about it now as long as I tell her where I go each time.” Peter barked out a laugh. “It’s kind of annoying.”

Tony grinned. “That’s guardians to you. You’re lucky, you know.”

“I know.”

They sipped on their drinks in silence for a moment. A ray of sun had found its way between the buildings outside and illuminated the kitchen table, and Peter found himself watching it just to keep himself from watching Tony. He knew he wouldn’t appreciate being observed.

“How are you?” Peter blurted out before he could stop himself. “And Ms Potts and Mr Rhodes?”

Tony seemed a bit amused. “We’re all good, kid. Rhodey can almost walk entirely on his own now.”

Peter nodded. “So you’re all… fine?”

Tony blinked. “Relatively. Should we not be?”

“Yes! I mean, I hope you are?”

“This-” Tony shook his head. “I don’t say this often, but I’m confused.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to- I mean-”

“Kid. Just say whatever you want to say. I promise I won’t get mad or whatever.”

Peter exhaled slowly, biding his time. “It’s just… you look a little sad, s’all. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony’s eyebrows met his hairline. “Oh. Well, uh-” He scratched the back of his head. “I guess lying and saying I’m fine will get me nowhere.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mr Stark. I just wanted to check.”

“No, no, it’s- it’s fine, I-” Tony shook his head. “Maybe I need it.”

Peter never would’ve thought they’d be in this position, where Tony Stark of all people attempted to put his emotions into words in order to share them with him. It was usually the other way around.

“The thing is,” Tony started, pushing his cup from hand to hand on the table. “I care more than people probably think, and sometimes it gets hard to deal with everything. Especially when people so very obviously didn’t care back. At least not to the same extent.”

That was probably the most Tony would be willing to tell him, but Peter appreciated it anyway. “Do you wanna know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“None of them deserved you.”

Tony didn’t reply, but Peter could see a slight shift in his posture. A brightness to his eyes.

Peter made it his goal to always make sure Mr Stark remembered how important he actually was after that.

2.

Peter wasn’t sure how or even why, but when he opened his eyes he found himself in Mr Stark’s living room, and the light was way too natural for it to still be dark outside.

“What happened?” he asked FRIDAY automatically, but got an entirely different voice in return.

“You passed out. As in like, fell asleep. You weren’t knocked out or anything.”

Peter sat up a bit in order to look at Tony who was sitting in the armchair across the room from him, his attention captured by the pad in his lap. “Have you- have you just been sitting there all night?”

“Of course not. I went to my lab. Had a few hours of sleep. Went back to the lab. You dozed for over ten hours. Seriously, Parker, when was the last time you slept through the night?”

“Too long ago,” Peter muttered. “Does Aunt May-”

“All informed.”

“Oh. Good. Thank you.”

Tony snorted and finally looked up at him. “No problem. I was mostly covering my own ass.”

Peter grinned. “Right, because you don’t care about either me or her at all.”

“All right, don’t get cocky. Geez, you’ve been hanging around me for too long.” He placed the pad on the coffee table. “If you want breakfast you know where everything is.”

Peter nodded and sat up properly. He felt more awake than he had in weeks, miraculously. “How’d you sleep? Those hours you did sleep, I mean.”

Tony hummed. “I slept all right. It could’ve been better.” That Tony was willingly admitting that was a huge step. “But it was enough to function today. I’ve got so many meetings this afternoon that I’m sorta considering going into hiding.” He waved his hand around. “Never become an adult, you hear me.”

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that,” Peter said, the idea that he would have to apply for colleges in less than a year ever so present in the back of his mind. “You should eat too. And probably get some more coffee.”

“You sound like Pepper.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Mmm not really.”

“Then I’ll take the compliment.”

Tony laughed. “Definitely getting cocky. I can’t say I hate it, but you better be careful.”

Peter had to admit that the months he’d spent around the older man had made him much more comfortable around him and his closest friends, and sometimes he had to remind himself that snark could seem disrespectful. Fortunately Tony was fluent in snark and didn’t seem to mind.

Peter took a quick trip to the bathroom and tried in vain to get his hair to cooperate, and then met Tony in the kitchen where a glass of orange juice was waiting for him on the table. He downed it in seconds, only just then realizing how dry his throat had been. Tony watched him over his coffee in amusement.

“I have to make a call,” he said, already halfway out of the room with his cup in hand. “Make yourself at home and all that jazz.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice.

***

“God, if a stupid phone call takes this long I cannot imagine how long the actual meetings will last-” Tony stopped in his tracks, his cup empty and his hair in disarray. “What’s this?”

Peter looked up from where he’d been scrolling on his phone. “Breakfast.”

“For me?”

“Of course.” He motioned to the toast across from him on the table. “It’s probably a little cold now, but-”

“No, no, I- that doesn’t matter, it’s-” Tony cut himself off with a shake of his head. “The only people who’ve ever made me breakfast are Pepper and Rhodey.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, sorry, was it insensitive? You don’t have to eat it.”

Tony grinned then. Hugely and genuinely. “Not insensitive at all.” He wouldn’t look directly on Peter, but Peter knew him well enough at this point to know it wasn’t a bad thing. “Thanks, kid,” he said as he sat. “I have to leave in like ten minutes, so I was worried I wouldn’t even have time to eat. God knows I would forget all about food once in those meetings, so this-” He grabbed his toast. “-is gold.”

Peter beamed all the way home.

3.

How Peter ended up at a movie night at Tony’s with Pepper, Rhodey and Happy was beyond him, but he was happily (and slightly awkwardly) sitting between Tony and the armrest while they tried to decide on a movie. Pepper, who was on Tony’s other side, was pointing at one of the movies on the screen, but Tony kept scrolling.

“Already seen it,” he said, glancing at her. “But you can totally have more than one choice.”

“If we’re gonna find a movie that none of us have seen it will be a miracle,” she replied matter-of-factly. “How about that one?”

“Oohh, I’ve been meaning to see it for ages,” Rhodey said from the other couch.

Happy shook his head beside him. “Not that one.”

“Why not?”

“Looks bad.”

“I agree,” Tony said and kept scrolling.

“You know what, give me the remote.” Rhodey held out his hand, but Tony barely acknowledged him.

“My house, my rules.”

“Pepper, get him to give me the remote.”

“Don’t get me involved in this.”

“You wanted to watch the movie too.”

“We can negotiate like adults.”

“That one!” Happy piped up, pointing. “I vote that one.”

Tony hummed. “It looks all right, actually.”

“Oh, you’re kidding!” Rhodey was more passionate over this than Peter would’ve expected, but he recognized the thrill that came with going against your best friend over small things. “Peter, get him to give me the remote.”

Peter really hadn’t been expecting to get dragged into this. “What, me?”

“Yes! He listens to you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Peter blurted out, and Tony snorted.

“Cut yourself some slack, kid,” Rhodey said, voice softer.

“Actually,” Tony said, turning to Peter with a grin so big it almost scared him. “It’s a tie between two movies, but we’re an odd number. Peter’s vote can decide.”

“Do you think I’m suicidal?” Peter asked with a slight panic.

Happy, of all people, burst into laughter. “Oh, okay, you’re funny, I’ll give you that.”

Tony poked his chest. “Just choose.”

“And if I don’t want to watch either of them?”

“Then we’ll never get around to watch a thing.”

Peter had honestly not been paying much attention to the options, since he was fine with whatever. “Could- could you let me read the descriptions of them both?”

They sat in silence as Peter read. They both sounded mediocre, and Peter realized he’d already seen parts of one of them with Ned. They’d only gotten half an hour in before they’d had to turn it off. Which meant-

“I think the one Mr Stark likes sounds good,” he said, and Happy surprised him once again by cheering.

Tony clapped his hands. “That’s my boy. The night is saved.”

Those words were worth the mock glare Rhodey sent his way.

And one time Tony asked him to.

Peter had been in Tony’s lab before, but he’d never been allowed to touch anything, and today was no exception. He hovered behind Tony and tried to peek at what he was doing, which he knew was probably bothering the older man, but so far he hadn’t said anything. That was one of the things that had changed as they spent more time together. Tony got more patient with him and his curiosity.

“You think you can hand me that?” Tony suddenly asked, pointing toward the end of the table.

Peter was quick to oblige. “Of course, here you go.”

“Thank you.” He peeked up briefly to smile at him, if a twitch of his lips counted as a smile. “Actually, do you think you could hold this while I tweak it?” He handed Peter a part of the Iron suit and asked him to hold it in place against the table.

“Make sure to not move it,” he said before diving in, and Peter felt like he was dreaming. He was actually here, in Tony Stark’s lab, helping Tony Stark build one of his genius creations. Ned would freak.

To be entirely honest Peter was freaking out a little himself.

“You’re doing good,” Tony said, and Peter had to hold back a laugh lest he wanted to jostle the part.

“I’m only holding it.”

“Still.” His fingers stilled, and he took a step back to observe it. “I think that’ll do. Thanks, kid.”

Peter was eager to keep helping, but he wasn’t about to test his luck. “Is it okay if I sit in here and work on homework?”

“Sure thing.”

Life felt right in there, with Tony working away and Peter sitting on the couch taking care of his own responsibilities. Occasionally he would look up and observe his mentor, and he could occasionally feel Tony looking his way, but they didn’t talk. It was nice.

Tony still seemed sad, but he seemed to be handling it, and Peter was still happy to be one of his distractions, mostly because he was now certain Tony saw him as more than just that.

[captmarvel-ous]

Chp 1 of the EDITED ‘Of Soldiers and Friends’

Summary: When James “Rhodey” Rhodes is on leave, all he wants to do is to hang out and cuddle with his best friend. Now however, he finds out that the "Avengers" living in Tony's tower have a problem with Tony, and that it’s making Tony look like he’s back in college. Well, Rhodey’ll just have to help them lose said problem, won’t he? In which Rhodey is a bear, Tony needs to relax, and the team is made up of footballers and cheerleaders. 

Edited and posted with the help of: @thunder-the-great and @anarchx-kestrel

Lt. Colonel James Rhodes soars through the sky in the War Machine armor and touches down on Stark Tower's landing pad.

"Welcome home, Colonel Rhodes.  Sir is currently in a meeting with Director Fury. Shall I inform him of your arrival?" JARVIS greeted.

He hums and ambles down the hallway, thinking over his answer, and finally says, "If he's in a meeting with Fury, you and I both know that telling him I'm here means that he'll ditch in a heartbeat. I'll just shower and start up dinner; God knows he wouldn't eat if it was up to him."

There's more than a hint of amusement in the “Indeed Sir.” he hears, and James lets out an amused huff, still in awe of Tony's son. The black ceramic vase that Pepper had arranged on the coffee table had been replaced sometime while he'd been gone, and it's easy to imagine it meeting its untimely demise in an experiment. Then again, the last time he was here, the Battle of New York had just taken place, and all he’d cared about was finding Tony. He still maintains that watching Tony fly through the portal is the most terrifying experience he's ever had, and watching the battered suit fall out of the closing portal the most harrowing. Because Tony's connection to JARVIS had died on his way through the portal, James was left with the uncertainty of not knowing whether or not Tony was even alive after being caught by the Hulk. He'd pushed through it then, a mantra of "He's alive, he's okay, he has to be" driving him faster and faster until he was pushing the limits of the suit. He'd finally touched down in front of the goddamn Shawarma restaurant where Tony was sitting and pretending to eat. The crushing relief he'd felt in that moment had nearly brought him to his knees, and only willpower had kept him standing. Tony might have tried to put on a cavalier attitude and sail forth, but to James, the lines of fear and exhaustion were clear on his face. James still can't remember how he'd gotten out of the suit, only that he'd ended up holding Tony in his arms, reassuring himself that his little brother in all but blood was still alive and with him. JARVIS's voice jolts him from the memories. He drags a hand down his face and, in a (hopefully) even voice, apologizes to JARVIS.

"I'm sorry JARVIS, I missed that. What did you say?"  

"I asked if you wanted me to add anything to the grocery list, Colonel."

JARVIS's voice is tinged with more than a bit of worry, and James rushes to answer him. "I'm good JARVIS, I know I can trust your judgment- wait. Actually, can you add in a packet of those cheesy chips that Tony likes? And a box of vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce?"

"Of course colonel. Anything else?"

"No, that's it." His voice sobers and solemnly, he adds, "Thank you, JARVIS."

    By the time James hears Tony step out of the elevator, dictating changes to his list, the pasta on the stove is bubbling and the heady aroma of the fried chicken fills the kitchen. Suddenly, the din he associates with the whirlwind that is Tony stops, and James still at its absence. But when he peeks his head around the door, all he sees is a tired Tony, looking completely lost. The near physical need that hits him, prompting him to wipe that lonely look off of Tony’s face jolts him into action, so he walks out of the kitchen and grins. "Hey, Tones! I'm home!"

He watches the joy and quickly hidden relief dawn on Tony's face before his little brother beams and slams into him for a hug.

"Rhodey! Why are you here? Not that I don't want you here, cause I obviously do, but how?! I thought you said you didn't get leave for another week at least."

James holds onto Tony, grimly cataloging the ribs he can feel from the too-thin form in his arms, loosening his too-tight hold, and smothering his worry before answering, "I got out early cause I finished the assignment early, Tones. But now, all I want to do is sit down, eat dinner, and talk with you before falling face first into bed. So go change out of your suit and wash your hands so we can eat. I made us Chicken Milanese."

He gently pushes Tony out of his arms and in the direction of his room and walks into the kitchen, listening for the sound of Tony's slow shuffle into his room. He then turns to face the cupboards, forces himself to uncurl his hands from the tight fists he’d made, and breathes. It’s almost like he’s been thrown back in time to The Dark Days, when he and Tony’d been working their asses off, writing their thesis papers and James’d had to set alarms to drag Tony out of his lab to fulfill their basic human needs. Tony would drink coffee by the pot if he wasn’t stopped, and as the only person with him who’d cared, it had been James’s duty to stop him. Unfortunately, James was also working on his own paper and they’d both lost at least twenty pounds. His mama had been horrified when she saw them, and had taken it as her personal mission to feed them back up. "What happened to him, JARVIS? I know he's got projects and shit to do, but he looks like he's been running himself ragged. I thought Pepper becoming CEO would lessen his workload, not increase it!"

"I apologize, Colonel, I had forgotten that Sir has not yet informed you of his 'mutual breakup' with Ms. Potts." He continues, ignoring the muttered, "Damnit Tony. Why didn't you tell me?"  

"However, I do not believe his sorrow and attempts to bury himself in his work are not the only contributors to his exhaustion." Here, he hesitates quite uncharacteristically, and normally James would let it go, but right now? Right now he needs to know what's causing his little brother to look this drained. So he says, "JARVIS?"

"I believe the Avengers are the main reason, Colonel. Ever since their arrival to the Tower and Ms. Potts' resulting departure, Sir has thrown himself into his work and attempts to foster a sense of camaraderie with them, but they hold negative attitudes towards him, and I believe that this is yet another cause of Sir's stress."

"Thank you, JARVIS. Tony thinks they're all right about him, as always, doesn't he? That's probably why he hasn't said anything to me. Well. It doesn't matter. If their conduct is hurting Tony, I'll just have to adjust it."

    James is plating the sauce, pasta, and chicken when Tony comes back, dressed in a large, soft, grey hoodie with sleeves that hang past the tips of his fingers and a pair of black pajama pants with little R2-D2s stamped all over it. He’s pretty sure the hoodie is his and Tony stole it from him before the first time he'd left for training.  He sets the plates down on the table, sits down, and waits for Tony to join him, eating and biding the time for his subtle interrogation to begin. Tony eats a few bites, and as he's twirling his fork to pick up pasta, James asks, "So, Tones. I didn't know you invited the team to live in the Tower? How are they?"

In a futile attempt to dodge the question, Tony slowly saws the chicken into pieces and takes a large bite, attempting to stall as long as possible once he realizes the question isn't going away. "Um, you know, I had the reconstruction plans for the tower adjusted to fit them in, after New York. And the team’s the team. They're good. We don't sit around braiding each others’ hair and talking about our feelings, like girls, shit- don’t tell Pep I said that-"

"Uh-huh." James cuts him off after watching him gear up for an impressive ramble, one that’s designed to lose others trying to follow along. "And how's Captain Rogers?"

"Obviously he's great, honeybear! He's the symbol of everything American: life, liberty, and the absolute denial of change. He doesn't like apple pie though! Isn’t that weird? Um- yeah. Anyway, he's good- we’re good, you know."

Here he shrugs awkwardly, trying to downplay his babble, and James looks at Tony's downturned head and subdued words and calls bullshit. He's familiar with Tony's particular brand of lying, and right now his tells are so blatant they're practically smacking him in the face.

"Oh, do you now?" James can guess he's taken a rather dangerous tone of voice and that his eyes are probably gleaming murderously, but he can't help it. Tony is his little brother, and he's been protective of him ever since the first time they met.

"Rhodey?"

Tony peeks up at him with big brown eyes, Bambi eyes, his mother had called them, and he tries to calm himself. Tony's not fifteen and trying to convince James the giant bruise on his side appeared because he'd "just tripped-".

Come to think of it, this train of thought isn't helping him calm down at all. Tony’s an adult now, and could handle Captain America and the rest of the Avengers by himself, and screw it. They were all going down. His revenge'll make the Avengers rue the day they’d decided hurting Tony was okay. It’ll be ten times worse than the time he'd made the football players and cheerleaders’ lives utter hell after they made Tony cry. After all, Tony’s ‘Rhodey’ would always have his back.

[varietyofwords]

Ideal (Chicago P.D.)

Title: Ideal

Fandom: Chicago P.D.

Rating: T/PG-13

Author's Note: I probably watched one too many romantic dramas this weekend, but I was trying to make myself feel better after the announcement about Sophia's departure. To me, the best case scenario we can hope for after 4x23 (and given Sophia may be coming back for a few episodes in S5) is a follow-up to Erin and Jay's conversation in 4x21 about ideal living situations so this is what I came up with.

She will never get used to the hustle and bustle of this city - the constant honking of car horns, the way people push past each other on crowded sidewalks without the apology that comes with Midwestern nicety, the thin crust pizza being hawked by the slice at the same cart selling skinny hot dogs that don't deserve to be called sausage or bratwurst, the turf wars among precincts over which borough they serve, or the tunnel vision the highrises create making it is impossible to see city landmarks.

That last change was - is - probably the hardest to adapt to because it used to be she walk down the back steps of the District or swing by Firehouse 51 or chase down a suspect and be able to see Sears Tower standing up straight. Offering orientation as she floored the 300 or the Sierra or as she hopped over a fence in a foot chase. Now? Now she orients herself by the number of blocks to the FBI's headquarters, by the coffee shops and hole in the way restaurants that Lieutenant Benson pointed out to her the night she arrived in New York City with Hank's admonishment not to look back still ringing in her ears.

Advice Hank himself hadn't followed given that Benson was waiting for her at baggage claim, that the first person she saw upon arrival was someone from her past. It had been Benson who helped her find a place - one that was smaller than her condo in Chicago and without the floor to ceiling windows or the fireplace, but in a neighborhood that didn't feel quite so sterile or gentrified as the place the FBI set her up with. It had been Benson who took her out to the coffee shop around the corner from her new apartment and offered her a position in her own unit. Offered to open up doors for her at the NYPD that would let her out of a life spent in starched, white blouses and pantsuits.

But she had to pass, had to take Hank's advice that she not look back because she couldn't imagine facing the kind of monsters like Yates every single day. Couldn't handle the mental mindfuck that would come every time a woman was brutalized that way Nadia had been. And she had to keep the deal she made five months ago. Five months, eleven days, and six hours ago.

So much for not looking back.

"What can I get started for you, ma'am?" The questions startles her slightly as she had been mindlessly moving forward in line at the coffee shop. It is the same coffee shop that Benson had taken her to about two months after she arrived in the city, after it became obvious that the homesickness for Chicago wasn't abating with time.

The same, but different because it has been more crowded now, more inundated with tourists and the yuppies who bought the overpriced condos built on top of the hotel down the block. And now the barista moves down the line asking for orders before the customer can reach the cash register and pay.

"Can I get a large, black coffee and, uh, a large latte?" Erin questions glancing from the barista's smiling face to the board and back again when she sees the milk options listed on the righthand side. "Almond milk for the latte."

"Ok, I've got a large, black coffee and a large latte with almond milk. Anything else?" The barista questions nodding her head in reply when Erin replies in the negative as she scribbles the order on a paper cup. "Can I get an name for the order?"

"Lindsay?"

The callout of her last name comes not from Erin but from a voice - a male voice - further in front of her in the line, and both Erin and the barista turn to spot the speaker standing in front of the cash register. To see a redhead wearing a suit craning his head around the line to stare at her, to offer her a small, hesitant smile. And she offers him one in return as she tells the barista that Lindsay is the name for the order.

"Here you go, sir," another barista interrupts handing a coffee cup to the redhead. The grin on her face, the way she giggles over his charm causes Erin to roll her eyes because it appears that nothing has changed in the five months since she's been gone. That the eldest Halstead hasn't lost the charm that always got him in trouble, that always meant she had to listen to the youngest Halstead rail about how his brother needed to get his act together. Needed to focus on his career in New York and, then, in Chicago; needed to choose Nina or Natalie.

But he doesn't really offer her that boyish, charming grin as he moves to join her in line, as the two of them awkwardly dance around the question of whether or not they should hug because that's what they used to do. Quick hugs and/or warm smiles at Molly's when he'd join them for a drink after work or at their place - her place - when the game would end and they weren't so subtle about telling him that it was time to go.

Now, though, they skip the hug, and she finds herself curling her wrists upward so she can tug on the sleeves of her starched blouse under her black jacket. So she can silently address the discomfort she feels as he explains that he didn't expect to run into her here, as she wonders how much he knows about what's transpired in the five months since she last saw Will Halstead.

The lanyard around his neck announcing his name and his hospital affiliation explains why he's in New York rather than at work in Chicago, but Erin asks about the conference anyways. Listens to him explain that Goodwin has either started to trust him, or she just wants a week where he isn't around to give her more grey hairs.

The laughter Erin offers in reply clearly isn't the answer that Will was going for because the smile on his face doesn't reach his eyes. Because he's still staring at her with the stoic impression that Erin is convinced is hereditary as she inquires how everyone else at Med is doing while handing over a waded up twenty to the barista working the cash register. Because his eyes flash with anger when one of the four baristas working today interrupts the exchange of change and the exchange of niceties to hand her two coffees.

The flash of anger dissipates, though, as his gaze darts from to the two coffees in her hand to her face, and the anger is replaced with resigned sadness so quickly that Erin doesn't have time to really register what he's thinking. To say anything in her own defense as he mumbles about it being good to see her before turning away and striding towards the door. To even say his name before he's turned back around and moved towards her, before his proximity and his gaze makes it feel like they are the only two in the coffee shop.

"He was gonna propose to you. Told me that he knew he blew it, but that you were all he thought about. Had me get Mom's ring out of the safety deposit box cause you were the right girl," Will informs her, and the knowledge causes her to stumble backwards a bit. To lose her footing on the high heels that she's never really enjoyed wearing because it is too difficult to stand up right after such a blow. "And you - you really hurt him, Erin."

Despite all the years she spent learning how to suppress her emotions, how to make sure no one ever saw her weaknesses, the tears still spring to her eyes. Leave her vision a cloudy mess and a lump in her throat so she can't find her voice when Will tries to explain that he doesn't mean to hurt her. That he just wants her to know how much his brother cared - cares- about her.

Except she does know. Knew with every look and touch; knew with the five missed calls on the night she left and the smattering of texts after that. And she manages to find her voice not to tell Will that, not to tell Will that Jay is all she thinks about, but to wish him luck with his conference and make a break for the door.

Her visions is still cloudy as she makes her way down the crowded sidewalk towards her apartment, and the coffee cups slosh in her hands as people bump into her left and right. But the lump in her throat has grown and her heart is racing too much to take on the New Yorker tactic of scowling, to do anything other than focus on getting to her apartment.

Apartment not home. Because this is New York not Chicago. Because this is where she's biding her time rather than living her life. Because it is hard to move forward when you're still looking back at your past.

It takes some maneuvering with the coffee cups to open the front door of her building - almond milk latte spilling on the stoop on her building - and then to unlock the front door of her apartment. Takes further maneuvering around the half-unpacked boxes stacked in the hallway and the living room to find her past looking back at her from the closet-sized kitchen.

To find her past wearing sweatpants hung low on his hips and bare back muscles flexing as he runs the spatula across the frying pan, as he announces that he couldn't find the waffle maker in any of the boxes labeled kitchen so scrambled eggs will have to do.

"You were going to propose?" The question comes out more strangled and weaker sounding than she meant it to be, and the tone clearly catches him off guard because his head snaps around so he can stare at her. So she can see those bright eyes dim with a tiny bit of sadness as he nods his head eyes.

"You were going to propose," she repeats again. This time the question is more of a statement. This time he reaches to turn off the stove, moves the skillet off the burner, and spins around to face her. To rub his fingers against the hairline along his forehead and refuse to meet her gaze as he verbally confirms what he had planned to do five months, ten days, and roughly twelve and a half hours ago.

"You were going to propose, and I just left," Erin says as though he needs the reminder of what exactly happened that night. Of waiting for her at Molly's with the ring box in his pocket; of calling her repeatedly and driving by the apartment they used to share wondering where she was. Of dragging himself into work the next morning hoping to see her sitting at her desk and being told by Voight that she was working with the FBI. Effectively immediately.

"And you came back," he interjects because maybe she needs the reminder of what happened three months ago. Of sitting at Molly's staring at his fourth drink of the night wondering if he should finally let himself fall over the edge; of ignoring the sound of the door opening and shutting behind him because the rest of the unit wasn't really into drinking with a guy who wouldn't even try to be the life of the party. Of hearing a 'hey' in her voice beside him and wondering if he'd lost count of his drinks already until he felt her hand on his bicep.

They had ended up back at his place, at the apartment he officially shared with Will but unofficially had to himself because his brother spent all his time with Natalie. They ended up with her pantsuit on his floor and her nail marks on his back and not a lot of words spoken between them in the next three hours. The touches and kisses and caresses saying what they both felt even when they were in between rounds. And then, in the morning, he took her out to breakfast at her favorite diner, let her steal bites of his egg white omelete to balance out the unhealthiness of her double stack of pancakes, and asked if she was back.

She wasn't. And it had nearly killed her to see the way his face fell, to see the mask she thought he was trying to break down fall back in place as she explained that she was in town just for the night. That she had to get back to New York. That she wanted to stay so badly; that she felt her resolve to leave weakening with every passing moment.

She hadn't said the last part, but she had texted him as soon as she landed in New York. Texted him multiple times a day. Texted him so much that he'd stopped replying for a few hours and then come back with an excuse that his new partner, Al, had become annoyed with all the texting. Had taken away his phone and locked it in the glove compartment of that police-issued car he wasn't allowed to drive. And then texts had become calls. Short chats on the nights they both worked late and could barely keep their eyes open; lengthy ones on the days when she found herself looking up one way flights to Chicago.

So much for not looking back.

And, apparently, he had been doing the same during those phone calls because he's standing in her kitchen cooking her scrambled eggs and she's buying him a latte with almond milk. His ticket is round trip; Chicago is still his - their - home. But he's here to drown her in kisses at night and mock her pantsuit in the morning and, apparently, there was a time when he was going to propose.

"Are you still plan-" She forces the question to die on her lips because she doesn't want to know. What they're doing right now - the showing up on each other's doorsteps, the sneaking around dad's back - is complicated and confusing and undefined enough as it is without throwing the ultimate definition of a relationship out there. Without asking him to tell her if she's wrecked things enough that he's no longer considering asking her; without asking her to tell him if he's blew it so badly that she no longer wants to be asked.

"Do you remember me telling you about that couple? The ones that lived in separate houses, but were together for like, forty-two years?"

She remembers, of course. Remembers wondering where exactly he was going with that story when he first told it to her and then wondering how they went from him asking her to move in together to him telling her the ideal situation was him coming over for dinner and sex and then going back to his own place to sleep and work on the motorcycle she wasn't - isn't - thrilled about him wanting. Remembers him correcting her and saying that it wasn't ideal.

"I'd rather have that with you then nothing at all," he informs her and she finds herself shaking her head. Reminding him that they live in separate states rather than houses across the road from one another.

"Yeah," he agrees folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the counter. His stare is unwavering much like his posture as he continues, "it's not ideal. But unless you're ready to stop protecting Bunny and come home-"

"Jay," she warns with the shake her head because they've had this agreement. Over text. Over the phone. And she doesn't want to rehash it all over again when he's standing in front of her and, according to his brother, may or may not have a ring in his pocket.

"So," he interjects with a sigh of frustration, "separate houses, separate states sounds like the best option right now cause, Erin, not being with you is far less ideal than cramming myself into those tiny seats on Spirit for a two hour flight."

There's a long, pregnant pause where she mulls it over. Where she wonders how they went from living together to being apart to him planning to propose to now contemplating long distance for foreseeable future. And then she finds herself nodding her head, offering him a whispered okay that she knows he heard because he breaks out in a wide, boyish, and charming grin. One that makes his brother's seem small in comparison. One that she sort of emulates - dimples appearing - as he crosses the room, as he pulls the coffee cups from her hands and places them on the table by the couch, as he plants a kiss on her lips and mumbles how he loves her.

Because, yeah, living in New York isn't ideal. Being an agent with the FBI rather than a detective with the Chicago Police Department isn't ideal. But the last five months and the weeks before that have shown her that not being with him also isn't ideal. And that's one thing that she can change right now, can let herself keep from her past even as she sacrifices for another portion of it.

"Do me one thing," she murmurs when the second - or, maybe third - kiss breaks, and she feels him pull away slightly from her. Watches her run her hand against his chest before tipping her head up to look at him, to offer him a stern look that clashes with the dimples she can't make disappear. "Don't propose to me. Not yet, anyways. I don't want it to be a rushed thing, okay?"

His gaze softens at the comment, and she knows it's because a part of him sees it as a dig, as a pointed comment about his past and how he made it to the altar the first time around. And there's a part of her that means it that way. That can't stand the idea of him ever describing them as a joke or a twenty-four hour thing or of their relationship being cobbled together in panic the way their decision to move in together last year maybe was.

"You know that I support you one hundred percent, right?" Jay asks, and the comment causes Erin's brow to furrow because, of course, she knows that. Has known that since their first ride along as partners, since he put on a suit and went to her high school reunion with her, since he waited for her to tell him about her past, since he pulled her back onto the force when she was falling down a hole, since he held her together when her world was falling apart, since he offered advice and support even when she didn't want. And when she tells him that, of course, she knows, he nods his head and says, "Then I can wait to propose when it's more ideal."