#catch me the coziest girl around

[attapullman]

👀👀 me watching September 1st creep closer and closer

it's almost time to change the theme for everything to 🍂AUTUMN🍂

[dark-moonlust]

Heyyy so im so weak for bear hybrids and i just saw the one you posted, (LOVE IT btw), and i was wondering if you could do a sequal where reader decides to stay and lives a happy cozy life, with like cozy fires and all the bestest fur blankets and coziest bed and BIG FLUFFY BEAR MAN CUDDLES, but also like yk mad crazy sex where he likes to show off his strength and just like tosses her around, like up against walls, that thing where u like hold a girl on ur shoulders to eat her n stuff, if not thats ok i love all ur work sm 🙏🧎‍♀️🤍

Hello anon!!! Thank you for all the lovely words and the smutty idea!! I love bear hybrids, too. I'm sorry I took so long to complete. I have a lot of requests and I've been so busy lately. I'm trying to catch up on them slowly. Anyway, I hope this is to your liking!

Happy reading everyone!

Check out the first part of my bear hybrid oneshot here.

Cozy Life with your Bear Hybrid

Pairing: bear hybrid x fem reader Summary: you live a cozy life with your giant bear of a man. And you love it. Warnings: minors-ageless accounts don't interact, 18+, smut, size kink, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), huge 🍆, p in v sex, lots of 💦.

The wind screamed outside, rolling through the trees, yet it was only a whisper in the warmth of your cave. The fire crackled in the hearth and you were wrapped up in your mate's thick, muscled arms—the big bear of a beast who smelled like woodsmoke earthy perfume. He was warm and super cuddly, his big frame spooning you from behind.

Thick furs were heaped high on the bed their softness wrapping around you like a cocoon. Your bear hybrid always ensured you were warm and cozy, and took great pleasure in cuddling and loving you for hours on end. That night, he had a fond deep look in his eyes that spoke of his desire to keep you close and shield you from the outer world.

His mate. Forever.

Yes, you loved your life as his other half.

Shifting slightly, he moved, drawing you even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his furred bear face scratchy but exquisite against your skin. His fingers, strong and calloused, trailed carefully down your belly, over your thighs, making sure his sharp nails were sheathed. Humming in satisfaction, you sunk deeper into him.

There was nowhere else you'd rather be, nothing else you'd rather do than spend every day surrounded by the warmth of your giant, soft bear, who was just as possessive and tender toward you.

"Hmmm, I could stay like this forever," he drawled in a low voice that vibrated through your chest. “But I’m also thinking about all the things I want to do to you.”

“Like?” you challenged, hands caressing his furry arm.

“Taste your sweet honey for one,” he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble that sent goosebumps all over your skin.

“You just love to use this reference!”

He cocked a brow. “Why not?” His voice deepened. “Your cunt leaks the sweetest honey there is. I can vouch for that.”

“You are a horny bear beast.”

Chuckling, his hand moved down your thigh, fingers pressing just hard enough to cause you to open. “Hmm, and as the bear beast I am, I should taste again. Make sure your lovely cunny is as delicious as before. I love honey. Your honey.”

“You are insatiable.” Your face felt warm at the memory of him eating you out just hours ago. Your pussy had no issue whatsoever; it clenched and pooled with your juices.

Damn… You were both insatiable.

He grinned, that familiar, smoldering look blazing in his eyes. “Sleep, cuddle, eat you out, fuck. Then repeat. That’s our schedule. Now come, mate,” he playfully tapped your thighs. “Time to let me taste your pussy.”

His tone was straightforward. As if what you did every day was perfectly normal. You touched each other, rolled around in bed, kissed, made out (a lot), and couldn't keep your hands away from each other.

And you weren't a coward or an idiot to turn away from such joy.

In a playful mood, you smacked his hands playfully and scooted off the bed. You were in the mood to tease him. He growled and you hardly had time to move when he lifted you effortlessly, as if you were weightless in his massive arms, whisking you off the ground. You hugged him firmly and moaned as he hoisted you again, slamming you against the wall.

Strong hands maneuvered you so that your legs were draped over his shoulders, your pussy exposed and dripping in front of his eager mouth. You clutched his head and peered down at him, seeing the passion in his eyes as he licked up your mound, manipulating your folds with his long thick tongue. Your head tipped back, spine arching as he sucked you in, savoring your juices as if he were eating his favorite meal—which he was.

You were his favorite delicacy.

It went on and on, his tongue playing with your tender clit, circling the tender nub. You went wild, buried your fingers in his silky fur, and tugged violently as you shattered, your body coming alive with energy. He kept going, his big hands clutching your ass, his tongue thrusting inside to taste your honey. He growled primitively, his breaths vibrating over your clit.

He could go on for hours if you let him, feasting on your cunt and doing incredible tongue tricks just to see you lose yourself in pleasure.

“Pl—ease…ha~” you trembled, your voice strained from the toe-curling orgasm he’d given you.

With a husky moan, he gently flung you back into bed, onto that sea of fur covers, his large bulk crushing you with this delicious, heavy warmth and scent. You sighed with happiness and stretched your legs wider. He leaned over you, his cock thrusting up from between his broad thighs, already dripping seed.

His hands robed over your body, caressing your legs, belly and your breasts. You arched against him, whining when his leaky cock pressed against your entrance. He toyed with your nipples and leisurely rubbed his cock across your slit, his massive shaft appearing inhumanly large in comparison to your little human hole.

“Want my big bear to fuck me,” you whispered, fingers reaching down to open the outer lips of your pussy. “Pretty please?”

He whined and pushed the blunt cockhead a tiny bit inside. “How can I deny you, love?”

“Yessss,” you moaned, wiggling your waist. You were half-dazed with pleasure and you craved every inch of him inside you.

The spark in his eyes told you he was barely holding back. He was always so gentle despite his raw desire for you.

“Easy. Look at you,” he drawled, eyes on your pretty cunt, spread by his cockhead. “Every inch of you… mine, open and soft for me.”

“Come on, no more looking,” you warned. “Inside. Need you inside. All of you.”

A gentle roll of his hip, a little wiggling from you and he was inside, every inch of him buried in your depths. He was so deep you could feel him throbbing in your bellybutton, his balls crushed against your bum. You clutched his biceps, let out a gentle pants at the thick girth spreading your hole. You felt full, but not uncomfortably so. You’d learned to take him, to accommodate his hybrid cock.

“Good girl,” he drawled, his tongue plunging into your mouth.

Tongue down your throat, he fucked you, pounded into you in deep, unhurried thrusts. He kissed you as if he was starving, as if you were the only precious person he’d spent his entire life searching for. Which was entirely true. His hands cupped and kneaded your tits, his breath warm on your mouth.

Pleasure hit you again, and you sobbed mutely, your fingers tangling in his furred shoulders as he continued to claim you, his magnificent cock pumping in and out of your slick cunt. You heard his feral grunts and the squelching sounds of your bodies colliding. Two more thrusts and he exploded, loads of cum filling you up. He spurted for several minutes, your cunt overflowing with hot seed.

“Pretty, so damn pretty,” he roared. “Good mate, taking my cock and my seed. It drips so beautifully down your thighs.”

“Too much! It always is,“ you whined, feeling the final spurts of his release.

“Oh, that’s nothing.” His eyes had that dark hungry gleam, one that told you he wasn’t done with you. “Let’s see just how much more you can take, mate, ‘cause I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Did you enjoy?! Like, comment or reblog! It would make me so happy!

[quinnysnursery]

could I request cg!nate hc? Don’t rush, I’m happy to wait 😊🤍

[🏒] what it’s like having nate doe as a CG

paring : cg!nate doe x little!gn!reader

divider credit : @nicodefresas

a/n : lalalala i wanna play dti lalalala (lower case intended !)

🏒 definitely an "confused but he's got the spirit" cg

🌨 would do best with the a little within the toddler-kiddo range

⛸ imagine nate catching lizards and bugs for his little one to look at

🏒 "look baby! this one is called a spotted salamander " "s'oott sala'nder!" "...yeah!"

🌨 no worries for little ones who are scared of creepy crawlies, he'll understand!

⛸ "no! m' don't like it dada!" "okay baby, it's okay, i'm letting him go, see?"

🏒 had 0 clue what age regression was before meeting his little

🌨 takes so much pride in the fact that you trust him enough to call him your cg

⛸ "dada! dada!" "baby! baby!"

🏒 honestly would not be good at putting his foot down,

🌨 usually just ends up calmly explaining to you why you can't do something

⛸ "you could get lost, and i wouldn't know where you are or where to find you. and that wouldn't be good at all, would it?" "...nuh uh :c"

🏒 for all my fem-leaning littles,

🌨 ADORES putting your hair in pig-tails or dressing up at princess' with you

⛸ for all my masc-leaning littles,

🏒 LOVES rolling around outside with you or playing monster-trucks

🌨 loves each and every one of your arts 'n crafts

⛸ "dada! dada! look! m' made it for 'ou!" "for me?! C:"

🏒 bedtimes with him are some of the coziest times ever

🌨 "m'...nini dada..." "night night baby (girl/boy)"

⛸ overall, nate is one of the funnest cg's ever 🫶

taglist! :

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @katw4shereee @pkfferoo @bambi-slxt @chr1sgirl4life @17twelch17 @mattssturnz @mattsturniologf444 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Aroura Borealis - König x reader - Part 2

Series master post - Read on Ao3

Chapter specific tags/warnings: None really, slight PDA.

The whole thing reminded you a bit of an overgrown shed.

A nice overgrown shed, but still in essence something designed for practicality, not curb appeal.

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Please go to part 1 to read the tags and warnings (which have been added too) associated with this fic. As with last chapter, most of them don't apply to this chapter, but here's your warning that they will start to apply next chapter.

You had tried again to help with bags, picking up one you recognized as your own before starting your trek up the path, only for König to meet you halfway on his way back to the trucks.

“Here, I’ll get these for you. You go look around.” He says, intercepting you and trying to take the bag from your hands.

“No- König, let me help bring stuff in.” You say, holding the bag close, knowing that if König had his way, you’d not be allowed to help bring things in at all.

“But it’s a vacation!” König teases, taking the bag from you before turning to start walking back the way he came.

“It’s a vacation for you too!” You protest, having to take long, fast strides in order to keep pacewith König’s massive figure.

“But it’s a surprise for you! I planned it, I already know where we’re staying.” He says, and even with the scarf pulled up and his hat and hood pulled low, you can see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Go look around, Schatz! It’ll be dark soon. Go choose your side of the bed and find all the coziest blankets for us, yeah? I just want you to have fun! To relax!” 

You open your mouth again to retort, but König beats you to it, stopping and turning to face you at the end of the trail- where it opens up into a clearing with a small cabin and a few other structures- catching you as you nearly walk into him.

“I do this, and you can unpack later, fair?”

Reluctantly, you nod, giving in. Half the bags were brought in by now anyways, by the time you would have got him to let you help he'd probably be done anyways. And it was true that you had been excited to look around- König had hardly told you anything about where you two were staying or the trip in general. 

König smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side as he looked down at you.

“Good girl.” He said, and you nearly gawk at his public use of the phrase. König seems to not think twice of it, ruffling your hair slightly through the hood of your jacket before leaving you with a light pat on the ass.

After a few steps away, he looks back at you over his shoulder, grinning and clearly pleased with himself. 

“Horangi says there’s a marten den in the woods behind the cabin, you should go see if you can find her.”

You’re left standing at the mouth of the trail with a red face and stiff stance- situation only made worse when Horangi walks past you, hands stuffed deep in his pockets and giving you a mean side-eye.

The realization he heard König’s words is enough mortification for you to quickly avert your eyes and attempt a quick get away- starting towards the back of the cabin without so much as another glance at either of the two men.

You almost wanted to go straight inside and start unpacking things, just to spite König, but the the promise of a moment to yourself (along with the possibility of seeing a cute animal) was more appealing at the moment- even if for no other reason than having some time to clear your head and cool your face.

The cabin at the center of the clearing was on the smaller side, but it would be more than enough space for you and König. The exterior was painted a dark green and not much else. There was no trim around the single window or front door, and what little other color there was came in the form of wood or the galvanized metal.

The building itself was a single cell structure with a small shed to the north side. Both were topped by a slanted metal roof and the cabin had a small protruding wood stove chimney poking out of one of the upper corners of the roof.

It was raised up, not quite on stilts, but you could tell it was built for heavy snow and long winters. The only window was south facing and quite large, and there was a set of wooden steps leading up to a small porch area with black, slightly peeling traction strips laid down on them and an old, well used coir doormat in front of the door.

The whole thing reminded you a bit of an overgrown shed.

A nice overgrown shed, but still in essence something designed for practicality, not curb appeal.

When you rounded the side of the house, you found a large, metal firewood rack up against the side of the house behind the shed. The rack was mostly full and was covered by an old, well used gray tarp. There was paracord looped through the silver grommets along the tarp’s back corners and edges and tied to the short legs of the rack, while the front was simply held down by a few large logs where the tarp’s edge laid on the ground. There were also a few bungee cords stretched over the tarp, seemingly to keep the wind from catching it.

At the back of the house, close to the wood pile was what appeared to be a designated wood-splitting stump. It was relatively big with nicks from an axe littering the top and old bits of bark and slivers of wood mixed in with the snow around it. It also looked right out of a movie or some “Life Below Zero” style TV show, all it was missing was an axe stuck in the top of it.

Behind the house, there’s about 10-20 feet of clearing before the trees get too thick to easily move through. You’re not exactly sure what a marten looks like- let alone what to look for to find one’s den- but you think it’s something like a ferret or weasel.

Either way, you see no sign of one during your relatively quick and shallow walk through the edge of the treeline. You do, however, find something that looks vaguely like a trail- though you don’t follow it, opting instead to leave that sort of exploration to when you’re not running on fumes and more likely to get yourself lost than find anything interesting.

Circling around to the front, you pass by the final side of the house you’ve yet to see. 

You find the building’s sole window- a big thing entirely blocked out by blackout curtains from the interior and facing out into the trees, where a small bird feeder sat on one of the closer trees.

Back at the front of the house, you find König and Horangi standing near the door. König has his back to you and Horangi’s side is to you. Both of them are in the same closed off, stiff posture you’d seen them in earlier in town- arms either crossed or stuffed deep in their pockets and backs stiff as if at attention.

As you walk towards them, you’re able to make out certain parts of their conversation despite the distance.

“Should — safe———the well.” 

The words come from Horangi, judging by the movement of his jaw under his mask.

“— the solar—————enough?” 

The second part comes from König- who’s even harder to hear since he’s facing away from you.

“So—————not a dumbass.”

Just as you’re getting in range to hear more than vague snippets of their conversation, Horangi sees you in his peripheral, making a small nod in your direction to König and going quiet. When König turns around, you see his serious expression slip into one of general pleasantries- furrowed brow and pursed lips quickly hidden by a smile.

“What are you guys talking about?” You ask, taking big, high steps to more easily move through the thick snow. Along the trail, the snow hadn’t been too bad. The tree canopy kept some of the snow from reaching the ground and what did reach the ground was packed down by König and Horangi before you. But in the clearing, the snow was thick and for the most part, undisturbed. It was almost up to your ankles, and you’d quickly discovered that trying to drag your feet through it and walking normally was going to leave you with sore legs and not much else.

“Nothing important.” König replied immediately, side stepping the inquiry without a second thought. “So how do you like it? Cozy, right?” He continues, placing a hand at your back when you’re close enough to direct you to his side.

“It’s nice.” You say placitivley, leaning against König’s side as he drew you close, but unable to feel any of his warmth through all the layers between you two.

König practically beams at the praise, focusing his attention on you to pinch your cheek and start going on about how he’s glad you like it, how perfect the whole trip is so far, ect.

Horangi seems mildly displeased at your interruption, although maybe more about its effect on König than your actual presence.

“Do you need anything else from me?” Horangi asks, tone flat and not bothering to wait for a break in König’s words to speak up. You can’t really blame him for being ready to leave, especially considering that König seemingly has no qualms with PDA in front of the man.

“You can go.” König says, dismissing Horangi with a wave and no more than a glance. König doesn’t seem to care at all about the potential rudeness of the gesture, but neither does Horangi- who simply turns and starts his walk down the trail, completely unbothered.

Before you can think about it more, you’re swept up into a König-tornado: a rare event where König’s excitement to do or show you something leads to you occasionally being dragged along if you fail to keep up. In this case, it’s about showing you the interior of the cabin.

The second Horangi is gone, König takes your hand and practically drags you up the wooden steps to the cabin.

“Let me show you inside, Schatz.” He says, herding you inside before shutting the heavy door behind you two. “I put our bags by the foot of the bed, we can unpack them after we start some food and a fire.” König says, roughly pulling open velcro of the zipper cover on his windbreaker open and unzipping the jacket with a sharp zip noise before yanking off his hat and scarf.

His hair is messy from being under a hat all day- all you want to do is run your fingers through it, even if only to mess it up further- and his cheeks are tinted a light pink from the cold outside.

It was nice to see his face again. Despite spending the entire day together to get here, you’d hardly seen him without either a face mask or some other face covering since you two left home. It makes sense- airports were very public places, but it still made something inside you happy to see him so relaxed around you.

The cabin’s interior turns out to be mostly 1 room, with only one small room separated by a wall.

Of the main room, one corner had clearly been designated as a kitchen with a sink, countertop oven, hotplate, a landline marked “for emergencies”, and a few cupboards, while another held a small couch, quilt rack, coffee table, small wood rack, and a black wood stove with a metal chimney going up and through the ceiling. The rest of the space was separated by a large, partially drawn burgundy curtain that seemed to block off a bedroom type space.

In general, it was nice- cozy and comfortable in a way that felt warm and inviting even as a new space. Most everything’s either some form of wood or black metal, with occasional dark pops of color like the curtain.

In the entryway, there’s a small rug, a hinged bench that appears to be some sort of shoe chest, and a row of hooks on the wall where König hangs up his snowgear and motions for you to do the same.

König is already on his way to the pile of bags nearby as you do so, making sure to leave the entryway rug under the jackets and boots to catch any drips of water from the snow on your clothes melting.

The cabin wasn’t quite warm- in fact, it’s not at all, really. The only thing it had going for it over the outdoors was a lack of wind and some insulation. Even though you still had your hat and undermost jacket on, you still felt cold. 

You follow König to the pile of bags, starting to look through them and formulate a plan for unpacking as he pulls the big curtain to the side, only to notice König frowning down at you.

“Are you cold?” He asks.

You look at the man in nothing but a compression tee and khakis in front of you and asking if you’re cold- slightly dumb founded.

“Are you not??” You ask, looking up at him with an incredulous expression.

He seemingly thinks for a moment, eyes staring ahead blanket before he seemingly comes to a conclusion.

“I guess it would be cold in here.” He says, starting to walk towards the wood-stove in the corner. “Sorry Schatz, I guess they don’t keep the heat running in the offseason- I’ll start a fire.” He says, ruffling your hair on his way past, his tone slightly lighter.

“Please.” You affirm, watching him for a moment as he walks away before going back to unpacking.

For about the next hour you unpack you and König’s things into the various draws and shelves available to you. As you do that, König first starts a fire before announcing he’s going to bring in more wood and make sure the power is fully on.

As you unpack, you find that the only room in the cabin- aside from the main room- was a small bathroom with a combination bath shower, toilet, sink, and some cabinet space. You find some towels, washcloths, and even some basic pads and tampons under the sink (and you decide you actually quite like Horangi at that, even if the feeling’s not mutual). You also find a large first aid kit in the bathroom, and you end up putting the (massive) one König brought next to it- along with the rest of you two’s bathroom stuff in one of the two drawers.

You also find that the area behind the curtain was in fact a bedroom, with a large bed shoved against the walls with a heavy comforter, assortment of pillows, and extra blankets over the foot board. There was a small night stand on the side of the bed not against the wall- which, you could already tell König would claim as his own- and a window above the other side. The window itself was covered by heavy black out curtains, and when you nudged one aside and wiped away the condensation from the glass, you had a perfect view of the bird feeder and forest. Finally, there was also a set of drawers and a rug beside a wardrobe past the bed’s foot.

By the time you were done, König had come back inside and the house had warmed up enough for you to take off your hat and unzip your jacket. Dinner that night was a box of Mac and cheese made in a pot you found in one of the bottom cabinets and the hot plate from the back of the counter. The meal was spent cuddled up on the couch with König in front of the fire and watching a show you’d downloaded on your laptop ahead of time.

All in all, you were enjoying yourself. It was nice to finally be able to relax for once. The cold weather and short days were going to provide the perfect excuse to sleep in late and cling to König, who- being the bear of a man he was- made a great personal heater, and the cabin really was homey, you already felt comfortable there despite the short time frame. König was right, this was a great idea- you just needed to be comfortable letting someone else make the plans and handle things for once.

When you two do go to sleep, you do so bundled up under a mass of blankets and curled up against König’s chest, feeling safer and more relaxed than you have in a good long while. It’s perfect, and you’d live in this moment forever if you could- or at least try to keep your eyes open just a bit longer to savor it- but you’re too tired to do much, and it’s hardly a minute before you’re out cold.

Only to wake up in a cold sweat not even half past midnight.

[dourpeep]

IT WAS 2AM WHEN I SENT THAT SO I HELD BACK MY SIMPING FOR COLLEGE ALBEDO A LITTLE. tried not to send all my brainrot so I didn't just send a wall of text into your inbox LOL. Some others I thought of were:

- Mona giving astrology forecasts and compatibility readings in this au and Albedo may have asked her about the two of you

- Going to botanical gardens or museums with Albedo but for some reason it feels like a date even when it didn't intent to be. You tug on his sleeve now and then when you see something he might be interested in or even when it's something that excites you, and Albedo can't help but have a soft look in his eyes that he can share this moment with you! Somehow it results in the two of you holding hands - just so neither of you stray from each other of course - and eventually, intertwined fingers. You hear someone say that the two of you seem like a cute couple and you know Albedo heard it too, but neither of you say anything. You feel his hand squeeze yours a little tighter and respond in kind. The two of you are too embarrassed to look at each other but can't help the smiles on your faces.

- Lending Albedo some of your favourite books for pleasure reading and you've left tiny tabs on lines that you like. Perhaps this is before Albedo realizes his feelings so when he reads particularly romantic lines, he wonders if this is how he feels about you. Or did you mark these pages because you feel this way about someone? His stomach is in knots to the thought that you may be intrested in someone that isn't him and he settles for it just being prose.

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS SO CUTE AAA. THANK YOU FOR SIMPING FOR COLLEGE BEDO WITH ME!!

Tugging his hand and not letting go omg . . . you tend to just intertwine pinkies or play with his fingers absent-mindedly that Albedo becomes so accustomed to it so he starts to offer you his hands without a second thought.

WAIT. I gasped at Albedo being a cuddler. He's a little delirious when he first wakes up but you're so comfy that he hugs you a little tighter, asking if you've slept well. You try to reply while worrying about whether or not he can feel your heart thrumming in your chest.

What if Klee is staying with Albedo one night and the three of you fall asleep cuddled up together. Alice comes back early in the morning before any of you are awake and takes a picture. She sends it to Albedo later and he sets it as his phone's wallpaper.

Albedo staring at your lips winded me, thank you.

YES TO THE SWEATERS. I bet Albedo would have the softest and coziest sweaters too! Imagine it being a little cold out and you see Albedo across campus so you bound over to him and give him a hug. You nuzzle into him and mumble out a little 'hello' and say he's warm. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest while he greets you back, wrapping his arms around you

And I LOVE ALL YOUR HEADCANONS! I believe I found your blog around the time you posted Albedo's snort headcanon and it was too much for my heart!! I held tight to that headcanon and never let go lol. I also thought the science + college headcanons you had of him were really nice despite not being necessarily romantic!

Side note: I looked up that lobster fact and that's so cool!!

The Lobster Fact(tm) is my go-to ice breaker and it always fails. I'd imagine it's normally the same w/ Bedo OTL so sad...not many wish to know about potential lobster immortality.

I'm glad that you love the headcanons though!! I enjoy writing for Albedo so so much as you can tell ehe

That being said--if it makes you more comfy to send stuff in a few bursts of asks, I don't mind :DD I'll answer them as usual nodnod

OKIE DOKIE

-

"...Mona, yes?"

"Ah, I was expecting you to come around sooner or later, Kreideprinz."

Really, Albedo didn't mean to stumble upon the Astronomy major, but for some reason the thought of you has been on his mind and the campus' observatory just so happened to be on the way. With the meager hope that...maybe he'd find some sort of answer (in what, he wasn't really sure himself), there she was.

Luckily, she knew just what he was there for.

The moment that she twirls her hand with a wave, telling him that there isn't anything to worry about, the apprehension creeping within his chest at the thought of seeing you next-

disappeared.

It's not often that he turns to less orthodox methods, but he wouldn't lie. Knowing that--at least in Mona's opinion (which tended to be correct, anyway)--the two of you were undoubtly compatible? Something about how your constellations were intertwined...

In fact, Albedo turns a little theory around in his mind. Though based in old folktales, the idea that you gravitate towards those who are made of the very same stardust as yourself, suddenly made sense.

Or, perhaps he was just being hopeful.

-

Little does he know that you most definitely asked Mona about the same thing earlier that day.

-

AHHHHH BUT OF COURSE-

Any of those kinds of places--Botanical Gardens, Art Museums, Aquariums, Zoos, Museums in general--Any place where you're able to utterly lose yourself in your surroundings and look around in awe, really, are your go-to date outing destination!

Usually, it's just the two of you, maybe with Sucrose or Timaeus if it's for a particular class, as well as the occasional Klee in tow whenever Alice is busy with work.

But in this case, fingers interlocked, it's just the two of you on a impromptu trip to the art museum downtown after seeing a promotional banner about a new exhibit. Once inside, you rush along, Albedo trailing close behind with a light squeeze of your hand. The large area used for temporary exhibits isn't far from the entrance, so it's not long until you skid to a stop.

All along the walls are incredibly detailed oil paintings, the thin layered strokes glistening in the light. Albedo takes a moment to whisper to you about how oil paint works.

Due to the thinness of the paint and it's transparency, light passes through every carefully placed stroke, allowing for a unique sort of depth that isn't achievable with other painting media. You smile, the artificial light of the art exhibit making your features glow and Albedo can't help but wonder if you are like those paintings.

So complex, so carefully created in an image perfected with time. Your eyes search his and you say his name and Albedo clears his throat when he realizes he's been staring.

"Do you like this one?"

Ah, you must've assumed he took a liking to this particular painting.

His eyes shift back to it, taking in the sight of the balance of color, the composition, then back to you. He only stares a second longer before nodding.

Whether or not you realize the view he likes is you is something that he dwells on as you both make your way to the next painting.

-

If you had a penny for every time that someone comments on the way you compliment each other, you'd probably be able to pay off your tuition for next semester.

Okay, perhaps not, but the idea still stands.

You're only just at the end of the art exhibit when the security guard wishes the two of you a lovely date. Something about how young love is something to be treasured, something about how the two of you already seem so natural and comfortable in each other's presence.

Before you can mumble out an explanation, Albedo just squeezes your hand, gentle as always, and smiles.

It's a compliment, right? For someone to see how close you are, even if you really are just friends, is a good thing.

Ignoring the warmth that spreads over your cheeks, you smile and turn your head away shyly. Squeezing his hand back, the thought of what it'd be like if you were together crosses your mind.

-

Just as you lend books to him, he lends books to you. Surprisingly, this time it just so happens to be a poetry book--something that you expressed interest in a week ago but ended up not getting.

Within, he's left colorful notes with his neat, slanted writing.

Short discussions (presumably questions to himself) of what the poet must've been thinking, different possible scenarios, are peppered throughout the book. But one just so happens to catch your eye. Rather than a question, it's a statement. Simple, short, and...sweet.

'You carry the aura of the stars.'

The little yellow sticky note pasted beneath a love poem to the night sky stands out. Suppressing a flutter in your chest, you continue reading through the poem book with a few giggles at Albedo's musings until you find a note with most of the words crossed out.

It's entirely unlike him, the way that the dark ink scribbled over the words, making them illegible.

But at the bottom was a continued attempt--one you presume he was satisfied with by the way it lay pristine on the colorful paper.

'You look. I fail to speak.

Your mind, so brilliant as it is I wish to see behind To further appreciate the one I love.

I can only hope one day you shall let me in, So for now I wait patiently by your side.'

Who could he have written this for? You can't help but stare at the poetic attempt, knowing full well that Albedo seldom does something without meaning.

The book closes and you tuck it back on the shelf to ask about later.

-

AAAAA YESYESYESYES I LOVE THAT CUDDLE PILE W/ ALBEDO AND KLEE

Even though Albedo's a grade A student and certified genius (he's adamant in his denial, shaking his head and mumbling about how he just studies hard), he's not entirely a stickler for rules.

Well, that is, Aunt Alice's suggestion that Klee goes to bed by 9.

Instead, the three of you settle in the common room of Albedo's place in a bundle of pillows and blankets at the demands of a pillow fort.

The tv blinks on accompanied by the near silent click of the remote.

"What should we watch?"

Klee always ends up picking the movie. This time, she wants Alice in Wonderland, commenting on how the bunny is like her best friend Dodoco and the blonde girl on screen is named after mommy. Albedo doesn't bother correcting her, even though he knows quite well that dear, sweet Dodoco is a chinchilla.

Between sips of juice and a few mouthfuls of popcorn, the three of you fall asleep, Klee curled up besides you and Albedo's arm draped over you both.

Even when the sun is up in the sky, you sleep peacefully.

So, naturally, Aunt Alice has a spare key just in case something like this happens.

Immediately she's met with the sweetest view--her two kids (she's practically adopted Albedo as her own at this point) and--

Hiding a cheeky smile behind her hand, Alice can't help but sneak a little closer when she spies the way that you and Albedo somehow gravitated closer, his face buried in your hair and yours resting against his collar. Wedged between you with tousled hair, Klee snoozes peacefully.

She snaps a picture, followed by another, and another, and a fourth for good measures before meandering into the kitchen to prep something for breakfast.

Might as well let her three favorite people enjoy the comfort of sleep for a little longer...

You wake up the moment that Klee wiggles her way out of the blankets, nuzzling against the warmth radiating under your cheek.

Nice and cozy. Smells nice...wait.

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with a familiar birthmark and the nearly gone scent of Albedo's cologne.

You nearly pull away until the arm, now wrapped around your waist, pulls you closer accompanied by a satisfied sigh. Ah. You shut your eyes tight when you realize that Albedo's going to be asleep for at least another thirty minutes, resigning to your fate gladly.

Of course, Alice takes the opportunity to snap a few more pictures when you've finally fallen back asleep.

-

YES ALSO ALSO

Speaking of Albedo and sweaters and warm and also the just mentioned cologne. A little fun tidbit--not only are you familiar with the scent of his cologne because he wears it often, but it (in this au) is actually one that you picked out some time back. You probably were at the store together smelling some of the perfumes when you came across one that you were pleasantly surprised by.

Specifically, something that's lightly floral, a little warm but sweet with a hint of earthiness.

The pros? It fits Albedo perfectly! It also kinda sticks well and his place faintly smells of it.

The cons?? Well...you're embarrassed to say that hugging Albedo tends to drag on a little longer than anticipated because it's just such a comforting scent-

Not because you associate it with Albedo or anything-

Ehe

Man I really went to town again, didn't I?? Well, I'm glad that you enjoy my headcanons :DDD Albedo just seems like such a sweet person??? Like endearing in a way that just is...him. If that makes sense.

Brain go brrrrrr

I'll admit that my favorite headcanons for Bedo are mundane and domestic ones though! Like these! Just the little moments where there's nothing really going on except for him and you and ahhhh yesyesyes

Okay that's all-

[egg-emperor]

I personally headcanon modern eggman to be bi aro (Since (I'm a girl who self-ships with him). How do you think he'd be with a short s/o? I can definitely see him trying to watch where he's going when he's around them since he's so tall and big. Bear cuddles would have to be very gentle since a small s/o may be a fragile one. I think it would be pretty wholesome. 💞

I have a slightly different headcanon but I support everyone's LGBT hcs. ^^ And aro Eggman is a very dear headcanon of my own, I'm always delighted to discover people with the same! :D

One of my favorite things is how he's a big tall bear, I like to think about all the things that would come with it a lot. He always enjoys being bigger and taller, he finds it cute and amusing when makes a partner look much smaller and/or shorter and how he's both intimidating and desirable for it. He has fun standing over them and playfully teasing them for being short and/or small, he comes up with nicknames, teasingly crouching to be on their level, and likes how they're within perfect head patting/hair ruffling reach. He's liked doing all this ever since his huge growth spurt in his teens and the effects of his gigantism like condition made him much larger in proportion than average, he's very proud of it lol 🥚🐻💜💕

He also finds it entertaining to compare not only their heights but also his impressively bigger-than-average body parts to theirs. Such as how much bigger his big pink nose is when they rub their noses together, how his mouth and tongue can give the biggest kisses of them both, how his tummy is much bigger and softer than theirs if it is, how much bigger his hands are when they put them together with his bigger longer fingers and wider palms, and more. I really love to imagine how my hands would get lost in his much larger bear paws for hands when he holds them! I'd love to feel small compared to that giant bear of a man and make him feel proud for being so big, tall, and handsome as he should be. 🥰💕💘💜

He has to be mindful in many situations because of his size and that definitely includes learning to remember to look where he's going when they're around. But his clumsiness with it would be cute and I wouldn't mind if we bumped into each other, his big belly is nice and soft! He'd just have to make sure I don't bounce off it and get knocked off my feet, he'd have to try to catch me lol. He can also use his immense strength without even realizing it at times, so he has to be careful with that too. He has to be gentle and make sure he doesn't squeeze too tightly in hugs but he has a big soft tummy that can be hugged back much tighter, which makes for the warmest coziest cuddles! He really is like a big living teddy bear 💘

Another great thing is how he can pick up and carry people with ease, he's so strong and his height + long arms can lift them up real high, it's good for helping smaller/shorter people with reaching too high places and show them what it's like up there! I'd also love for him to lift me up for hugs and kisses, let me climb his shoulders so I can see up higher above (great for seeing over crowds or better seeing the beautiful sights of his theme parks!), and it would be funny to be casually dangled over his shoulder or carried under his arm. XD I'd especially love to be held by him bridal style, against his warm soft titties and tummy. I'd gush and tell him he's big and strong and he loves it showing off and being praised for it heheh 💕

[wolfish-trickster]

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

*

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

*

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

*

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

[demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol]

I’ll Take Care of You

pairing: frankie morales x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

content: gendered terms of affection, so much fluff, kissing, very very soft frankie (like maybe ooc but whatev)

a/n: first frankie fic and my longest one by alot! this is a sweet lil bedtime comfort thing for y’all <3

masterlist

You couldn’t believe the amount of relief you felt as you finally pulled into your driveway. Today had been such a long day, from a variety of small annoyances to people getting on your nerves, you were exhausted and ready to be home. As you shut off your car, you went for the door handle but paused, letting everything from today wash over you as you sat there with your eyes closed while doing some deep breathing.

Some time had passed when a tap on the window startled you and you turned to see Frankie giving you a soft, apologetic smile through the glass. You let the handle slip through your grasp as he opened the door from his end.

“Sorry cariño, didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to welcome you home. Kiss?” he asks, and with an adorable quirk of his eyebrows and the slight pout of his lips, there’s no way you could deny him. He kisses you softly, your chin supported by his hand, and he pulls away slightly to whisper, “Long day?” you chuckle sarcastically.

“You have no idea,” you half-smile but Frankie’s face pulls down at seeing you so worn down. You don’t like seeing him sad though, so you pull him in for another kiss and he happily lets you. Feeling his own smile against your lips pulls a small but genuine smile to your face. He pulls back slightly to ask you another question.

“Ready to come inside or do you need a few more minutes of car time?” he asks with a slightly teasing smile. You just shake your head though.

“No, I’m ready to come inside, and be with you,” his smile grows at your comment, and he helps you out of the car, takes the bag from your shoulder and slings it over his as you lock the car. Then he takes your hand as together you make your way to your house. A soft smile creeps over your face as you think about how this is your house. Frankie’s always been home enough for you, and the house you’ve settled in together feels like the perfect reflection of that. Once inside, he helps you out of your jacket and even bends down to help you out of your shoes, and as he straightens back out you can’t help but gently grab him by both arms and pull his forehead to rest on yours. “You’re so wonderfully perfect, you know that?” you ask as you take a deep inhale of something uniquely Frankie. He chuckles lightly at that.

“I actually do, but only because you tell me all the time. And you haven’t even seen the best part.” He gives you a sneaky grin and you cock your head slightly at that, but as he leads you to the kitchen you catch a whiff of a very familiar smell. “Your last text made it seem like today had been long, so I went ahead and ordered your favorite take out.” The sight of dinner on the table made you want to melt, but when you turned to Frankie and saw his expression, you think you actually melted. He looked so positively proud of himself and without your permission you let out a watery chuckle, and then you were launching yourself into his arms. He caught you with ease and made sure you were steady on your feet before reciprocating your affection.

“I know I literally just said it, but you’re so incredibly wonderful, Frankie.”

You pushed your nose farther into the junction between his neck and his shoulder, and he kissed your hairline before whispering, “Anything for my girl.” You pulled back at the same time and he gave you a warm smile before saying, “Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable, and I can bring the food in, if you wanted to eat in bed?” you gave a happy sigh.

“That sounds perfect Frankie.” His hands slip from your waist to give your butt a few pats in response, which made you giggle. You leaned in just to kiss his cheek, but the goofy smile you spotted as you pulled away made you go right back in to give him a few quick pecks on his lips.

“Go,” he laughed as he gently pushed you towards the bedroom.

“Okay,” you said, with what was no doubt an absolutely smitten look on your face. It was a quick walk down the hall and into your shared bedroom, and as you instinctively went for some of Frankie’s clothes you noticed how much better you felt. Before, you would have slumped inside and maybe ate dinner, maybe just snacked and immediately crawled into bed, but now with Frankie, he took such good care of you while also making you feel so much lighter. You felt truly lucky to have him in your life, and even luckier for the life you have together. You fished around for a particular shirt, the one you that insisted was softer than the others (and Frankie would always roll his eyes at that, before following up with a quick kiss to your nose) and after finding a pair of sleep pants you quickly replaced your work clothes with the significantly comfier ones. Frankie walked in a moment later with a tray full of take out, and you smiled appreciatively.

“Is that the shirt?” he said with a slight smirk. You let out a small huff, but your growing smile took away any of the bite that came with the reaction.

“This is, in fact, the shirt,” you said as you joined him by the bed. He helped you get settled in and then handed you your food before walking around the other side to join you. You let him settle before you resettled yourself so that you were using more of him than the headboard to lean against. You looked over at him and he gave you a small smile before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He then leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the remote.

“Any type of relaxing show or movie you want me to put on?” you thought about it for a moment before you gave him the title of one, and he quickly pulled it up as you two settled in. Eating was a quiet, peaceful affair, with a few comments made here and there and some light teasing followed by soft affection. Frankie grabbed your things when you were done, and although you tried to get up and follow him, he gently insisted you stay in bed. So you continued to watch tv, although your thoughts were more wrapped up with Frankie. Taking care of each other was something the two of you often did, neither of you strangers to difficult days. But his generosity and caring nature tonight really touched you. How you ended up with an absolute gem of a man, you’ll never know, but regardless of that you were just forever grateful he was yours. He walked back into the room and before he could say anything you reached for him with both hands.

“C’mere,” you mumbled with a slight tilt to your head. He put up no fight, walking straight to your side of the bed and falling into you. He rested his body between your legs and his head on your chest, his arms wrapping securely around you. You took his well-loved hat off his head and placed it next to you on your nightstand before carding both of your hands through his hair. He groaned in appreciation at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp and in his hair, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little, Frankie slightly bouncing with the sensation. You leaned your face closer to his head so that you could press a gentle kiss to his curls. “I love you so much,” you said softly. “And thank you for taking such good care of me.” Frankie turned his head to rest his chin on your chest and look you in the eye.

“I’d do anything for you, [y/n],” he said softly as he rotated the rest of his body and pushed himself up on his arms so that he could lean over you without resting too much of his weight on you. “I’ll always take care of you.” His brown eyes were so full of love and they took up your entire field of vision until his lips connected with yours and you closed your eyes. His lips were soft and gentle as they pressed into yours, and his nose gently bumped into the side of your own nose. Moments passed and he pulled away but lingered, and this time it was you that pressed your lips into his. You wished you could keep him this close forever, have him surround you like your coziest blanket. When you finally broke apart, you’re sure your expression matched his. His face was soft, and open, and overflowing with love. Your lips parted in a gentle smile and the movement caused his eyes to look down quickly, and his face split into his own grin. “I love you,” he whispered as he brought a hand up to brush a stray hair out of your face. You turned your head to give his exposed palm a quick kiss.

“and I love you,” you whispered back. Before you could say anything else, and big yawn overtook you and you tilted your head back as to not yawn directly in his face. Frankie chuckled and gave your exposed throat a quick kiss which caused you to flinch. “Frankie don’t that tickles,” you spoke breathlessly. He gave another chuckle.

“you ready for bed, sleepyhead?” he rolled off of you and stood up next to the bed. Frankie took your hand to help you up and the two of you padded into the bathroom to finish up for the night. When you crawled back into bed, Frankie was right behind you, wrapping you up in his safe, strong arms. You caressed your hand gently across his cheek down to his stubble that you gave a few scratches, to which Frankie happily hummed.

“I love you,” you said one last time before sleep took you.

“and I love you,” he whispered back, his gentle breath and warm arms quickly lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

tag list (no pressure to interact!): @scribbledghost​ @icanbringyouincold​ @keeper0fthestars​ @starryeyedstories​ @andriecastana​ (saw u needed some frankie fluff and i had this sitting in my drafts so maybe this will help xo)

[mashup-writing]

If only you were here; Hwang Yeji (ITZY)

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Summary: Yeji was the leader, she couldn't afford to be seen being anything less than perfect for the role. No crying, being sad, or feeling any kind of negativity. But she's only human, and being human means letting your emotions run through you.

Requested? ☒

"Miles away from seeing you."

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She was exhausted. Today's schedule was nothing but hectic, from interviews to filming for music videos. All Yeji had wanted to do was be with her girlfriend, to have her take away the stress, to run her fingers through her hair, to hold her like doing so was the only thing keeping her together. But with Y/N visiting her hometown? The best she could do was a facetime.

She loved her job, her members, and their MIDZYs. She really does. But sometimes the high life takes more from you than it gives. Lately her girls have been facing prejudiced hate from a bunch of ruthless people online. Lia was being branded as "Lazy" and it made the leader's blood boil, among all five of them Lia was the one who spends the most time in the practice room, especially when she has trouble with some of the choreography. She remembers a memory of theirs that included Lia almost passing out of exhaustion in the practice room, Yeji herself wasn't enough to pull the pale and sluggish girl out of there. If Yuna's maturity and hidden stern-ness hadn't reared their heads then she has no doubt that Lia would've ended up in a hospital bed.

Chaeryeong is under fire for "Being Ugly" and all Yeji could do was scoff at the stupidity of the false accusation. Despite Yeji being Y/N's girlfriend, Chaeryeong was the latter's bias. This information had her shocked, Chaeryeong smug, and worst of all: It gave Ryujin a field day. Which resulted in getting the other three members in on teasing her. "Anyone who catches Y/N's eye is fucking beautiful" she mutters to herself. Not to toot her own horn but Y/N has an eye not only for gorgeous looking people, most times those she ends up liking are great people with great personalities. Your ex, Ahn Hyejin of Mamamoo is a damn great example of that.

Another one of her members under fire is Yuna, the baby of their new little family. Knets had a field day when it was found out that the Maknae wasn't originally planned to become a part of ITZY. Jumping on the chance to poke at the youngest's insecurity, thry took to saying that she wasn't good enough to be with them, much less have debuted at all. That's bullshit, and she won't leave room for argument. Yuna is the glue that holds them together, the friend that they can't imagine not having even when they've been a group for less than a year. She stands up to Yeji without being disrespectful when the leader is being too strict or controlling. She pulls Lia out of her workaholic state whenever it starts to become detrimental instead of beneficial. She is the one carrying Ryujin's ass whenever the latter thinks her dad jokes are funny. She's the one to calm Chaeryeong down backstage whenever the latter is feeling nervous, anxious or on the verge of a breakdown.

Ryujin's a reliable friend through and through, but if the fate of the world was decided by the rapper's ability to tell a funny joke? Yeji bets that they all would've died ages ago, she's better at joking around with actions than she is with words. Which leads to some people labeling some of Ryujin's actions as "Bullying". Yeji admits to herself that, yes. To the untrained eye it does seem as if Ryujin's the type, she has the face of a villain when she wants to look intimidating after all. But the rapper is also the softest person she has ever known in her life, testified by the one time they had a pillow fight in the dorm. In the heat of the moment, Ryujin's slipper got thrown and it knocked a Lizard dead off their wall. The pillow fight abruptly ended with four members trying to make her feel less guilty over the critter's untimely death.

Lia interjected that had the moment been captured on camera, some MIDZYs would be making a meme of how they'd like to be that "Lucky" lizard. Ryujin cried harder, because the lizard was not at all "Lucky" in her opinion.

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

Yeji was so lost in her own thoughts and so fatigued that she didn't even realize that she had finished changing from her performance outfit to the clothes she wore before clocking in for work. It was only when she had closed the door to her dorm room did she realize how tired she actually was. She was thankful she had been given her own room instead of bunking with someone else again, she's not too sure she could make it up in a bunk bed if she was still roommates with someone.

She crashes onto the bed and pulls out her phone. Most days she would get some shut eye and just facetime her girlfriend in the morning, but at the moment she thinks she'll end up in a mental ward if she goes another second without hearing her Y/N speak. So despite the fact that she can't feel her legs anymore and that her eyelids are growing heavier by the second, she calls.

Ring

Ring

Ring

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

Ring

Ring

Ring

You're pulled from the coziest and most comfortable sleep you've fallen into for the night by a constant ringing. You rub your eyes and turn towards your nightstand where your phone is located. "Who in their right fucking mind would be calling at this hour?" You grab your phone and the caller photo snaps you out of your mood before you even see the caller's name.

You hurriedly turn on your lamp on the nightstand and then proceeded to hit answer. "YEJ- whoa, not that I'm unhappy to see you but you look like you should be asleep instead. You look tired as hell Yej. Did you eat yet? How about water? Please stay away from dehydration and be sure to drink regularly." Yeji smiles at you, with her eyes drooping every now and then. "Yeah, I should be asleep but I just missed you so much I couldn't sleep without seeing you first."

You sit up and lean against the head board instead of laying down, your worry increasing tenfold. "What's wrong?" Yeji knows how to prioritize her health first and she never calls you half asleep because she had always claimed that you deserved nothing less than her full attention. She never calls you half asleep unless she's alarmingly close to losing her composure. Her eyes widen as soon as the question leaves your mouth, and a sniffle makes its way through the line. She burried her face in her arm and struggles with wanting to tell you and wanting to fake being strong with you.

You sense the dilemma within your girl and you refuse to let her carry this alone. "Hey, I'd never force you to spill. But I am always gonna be here to listen to your troubles. I already know how strong you are, you've got nothing more to prove. Let it out and I'll be here to support you." Yeji's resolve crumbles and she cries as she tells you everything that's been weighing her down today. She cries because of the unfairness of it all, she cries about how she can't protect her girls, she cries about how she wants nothing more than to wrap them up in a hug and not let go until they're all better but the girls just like their leader want to seem strong and untouchable for each other.

Yeji cries about how she wishes she was with you instead of working, she cries about how guilty she feels for sometimes wishing that they never had to go through the unfairness that the idol life had to offer, she cries about how she feels like she's disappointing the MIDZYs for feeling as she feels. She cries because it's just the start of their journey and she's already so tired. She cries because it's the only way she knows how to get rid of the stress, even if it's just a temporary solution.

What hurts you the most is that she doesn't look at you as she says this. You're a MIDZY after being Yeji's girlfriend and it you don't miss the way she chokes up even more when she said she feels like she's disappointing the fandom. You let your girlfriend let it all out before taking a moment to pull yourself together, and then you speak.

"I can't and I won't tell you that I understand how you feel as an Idol because I'm not one. But as a MIDZY, I can and I will tell you that you were born to be the leader of ITZY, no one else could step up to that role as well as you do even if they tried. Tell the girls I told you to let the haters run their mouths, because we MIDZYs know that each and every one of you brings something special to the table. ITZY isn't ITZY if it doesn't have Hwang Yeji, Choi Jisu, Shin Ryujin, Lee Chaeryeong and Shin Yuna as the members. You girls are a fucking unit and you are all strong enough to knock those bitches speechless."

You stare at Yeji the whole time and notice that although her body has stopped shaking, her tears are still making their way down her cheeks. You take in every detail of her face and wish with everything within you that you were there with her to wipe her tears and hold her close. In your opinion, words aren't enough but you suppose due to the distance between you two that you've gotta work with what you have at the moment. Right now all you have are feelings and words.

"Now as your girlfriend." Yeji's head adjusts enough that you could see half of her face, but the other half still remains buried in her arm. "I'm telling you that you can never disappoint me." She chuckles in humor before turning her gaze away from her phone. "You don't know that, I'm not perfect-"

"I never said you were."

Silence sits between the two of you. Not once in your whole relationship had you intentionally interrupted Yeji when she was speaking, you strongly believed that everyone deserved a chance to speak their piece. But that had exceptions. Such as now. "I never said you were perfect, because you're not. You're human and you have your flaws but believe me when I say that you could never disappoint me, despite the fact that humans weren't designed to be perfect you still work on yourself everyday trying to polish all the rough edges, trying to better yourself not for anyone or anything but yourself because you really want to be better than you were in the past. How could I be disappointed in someone as noble as that?"

You notice that she's now actively fighting to keep her eyes open and you smile. "You okay for now?" She nods and you continue. "Then go to sleep, God knows you both need and deserve a good night's rest. I'll call you back tomorrow when you wake up, so you can tell me about everything else your sleep addled brain forgot to tell me tonight."

Yeji uncovers the other half of her face and eyes stare at her screen that shows your face, now more than ever she wishes she was there with you, to thank you and hold you for everything you've said and for the way you've calmed her down. She promises herself that once you meet back up in person, she'll make it up to you. But for now words will have to do.

"Thank you Y/N. I love you."

Your smile grows wider and Yeji swears she's ready to make a fool out of herself just to ensure that that smile never fades away from your face. You take your a moment to memorize the candid details of Yeji's face before replying. "I love you too Yeji. Good night." Both of you wave goodbye and as heavy of an action it was, you take the initiative to end the call because you know that if you left it up to your girlfriend she would never hit that End Call button.

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

Yeji places her phone on the nightstand by her bed.

Y/N lies back down properly on the bed.

The two stare straight ahead of them, eyes unfocused.

They take a deep breath before closing their eyes, ignoring the need that courses through their hearts.

"I'll be with her soon enough."

--------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶--------------------

A/N: I think this is the longest fic I've written on this app? Why the hell is there too little ITZY content on this app? it feels like drought istg 😭😭

[fleeting-queen-of-pepperland]

Yardbirds Of A Feather

Robert Plant x Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None 

Word Count: 3K 

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

Ethereal.

That was the only word that could nearly encompass Robert as he dominated the stage with his presence; his arms moving delicately in the air, his back arching through the higher notes, and the way he interacted with the audience as the music seemed to flow through him with every step he took across the stage. 

Seeing him from such a short distance almost felt like a religious experience. 

You smiled and leaned against one of the walls, hidden backstage in what felt like your own V.I.P spot. You had been a roadie for the band for nearly four years. Getting to know the rest of the boys and being talked into into their alcohol fueled misadventures more times than you’d care to admit had been one hell of a ride, and no matter how crazy, hectic and challenging that lifestyle had proven to be, you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. 

Well, perhaps for one thing only. Something related to the curly-haired frontman who covertly turned to look your way and smiled goofily before turning to the roaring audience once more and lifting his arms. 

Robert and you had the best of friends since you were teenagers. After your family moved next door to his, it didn’t take long for him to come up to you one afternoon and interrogate you about your taste in music after claiming to have overheard Elvis Presley music coming from your room, in that extroverted and friendly way you had grown accustomed to. On the other hand, your first instinct was to bashfully blush and apologize for the noise. Since then, you had become practically inseparable. 

Despite your noticeably different personalities, Robert had a knack for reading people, and he knew it was just a matter of time until you came out of your shell. It only took one year of innumerable afternoons at either one’s house, the park, or all the local pubs; talking music, films, or literally anything. By now you were certain you knew each other better than nearly anyone else, and Robert was one of the few people you were a completely different person around, shedding that taciturn and somewhat reserved layer.

However, as time went by, you began to realize your feelings towards him had begun to change, without knowing exactly when or how. 

Suddenly, you’d feel especially tense and even coy when he did things such as putting his arm around you or playfully throwing you over his shoulders to carry you around; things you didn’t use to mind. At least not as much. You were no fool. Of course you knew what it meant and, moreover, you were aware of the consequences romantic feelings could have on your friendship, so you had decided you wouldn’t risk it. You’d wait until the strain you felt in your chest whenever he leaned in too close and the subconscious smile that crept onto your cheeks at the first sight of him in the morning disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. 

However, back in the present, it wasn’t until he threw you a questioning look that you realized your eyes had been on him all along, even in the middle of Jimmy’s guitar solo that had the crowd going absolutely mad. Literally everyone in the venue, even some other roadies that stood next to you had their eyes fixed on Jimmy as his fingers strummed the chords of his guitar with dexterity. Everyone but you. 

“Shit”, you thought as you attempted to smile nonchalantly, waving at him awkwardly before retreating behind the stage, putting your hand over your eyes in a chagrined manner. 

You nearly crashed into Gage, a fellow roadie who was laboriously pushing one of the cases in which the equipment was stored. 

“Hey,” he greeted “Is everything alright?” 

You nodded and got behind the massive black rectangle, next to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where do you want this?” 

He gestured towards the spot through which the band would be coming through when the concert was over, and both of you began pushing. By the time you got there, both of you were sweating. Fun aside, being a roadie was also exhausting. 

You reached your meant destination as Robert’s voice resounded through the venue and reached your ears.  

“I want to thank each and all of you for being here tonight! We love you, and good night!”

The multitude cheered, mixed exclamations of excitement and desolation for the end of such a wonderful show filled the air for several more minutes. 

You reached out your arms as the boys strode off the stage and made their way to the back while still waving at the crowd. 

Jimmy smiled at you and placed his guitar on your hands before receiving a paper cup filled with something that probably wasn’t water from another roadie.  

“Thanks, Y/n.” he said before pouring the contents of the cup down his throat. 

“Great job, guys,” You said, smiling kindly at Jimmy and nodding at Bonzo and John as they walked by. Then you turned your attention to Robert, who seemed to be ready to engulf you in a sweaty hug as he often did after his shows. 

However, this time he didn’t. 

Instead, he seemed to catch himself and pulled his arms back before patting you on the back with a smile before walking towards his band mates. 

Well, that was odd. He probably thought you hadn’t noticed, but you could definitely see him change his mind mid-second and decide otherwise hugging you. 

A new, frightening possibility invaded your mind as you carefully placed Jimmy’s guitar back in its case and left it with the rest of the equipment. 

“Was I too obvious?” You internally wondered, “Oh god. He knows. He definitely knows and he feels uncomfortable around me.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head sternly, decidedly putting a halt to your anxious, overthinking brain. Robert couldn’t possibly know. He hadn’t said or implied anything, and you had made sure to hide your infatuation as best as you could. 

“Hey, Y/n!” Bonzo yelled, abruptly pulling you out of your thoughts. “We’re heading down to the pub, you coming?” 

You turned to Robert, who was busy lighting a cigarette and didn’t look up. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself, that brief moment of panic had made you feel paranoid, and you decided it was better to call it a night and not hang around Robert in that state, so jittery that it could be obvious something was up with you, and you weren’t a good enough liar as to take that risk, let alone with a couple of beers in you. 

On the other hand, you always went to the pub with them. You couldn’t just decline and expect none of them to think it was odd. 

“No, sorry. Not tonight, I’m…not feeling well.” you quickly put an excuse together and even cleared your throat a little so it was believable. 

“Oh, come on,” John protested, “You showed up to work, didn’t you? You’re fine!”

“I came to work because I love you guys,” you said with a soft chuckle, your eyes unconsciously drifting to the still oblivious Robert. Good lord, even that innocent phrase made your stomach churn. This was bad. “I just need to lay down. I’ll be as good as new tomorrow, I promise”

“Alright, see you tomorrow, Y/n.” John said disheartenedly before walking away, Jimmy and Bonzo following after saying their goodbyes to you. 

And so, you went to grab your things, relieved that your excuse had actually worked and you’d be able to walk out without raising suspicion. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

A voice behind you said apprehensively. Your body stiffened and you made your best effort to casually turn around, lifting your closed fist up to your mouth and faking another cough as you nodded. 

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you said with a smile. Robert didn’t return it. The blond singer just stared at you up and down, his lips pursed in a concerned grin. 

“Okay,” he finally said before nodding and going after the others, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The moment he disappeared behind the corner, you released a long, shaky breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. 

You sighed as you threw your key in the bowl next to the entrance before closing the door behind you. However small and hideously furnished, at the moment that hotel room was the coziest, safest place on Earth. 

You looked inside the mini fridge in search of something to drink, finding only a couple of beer cans. You shrugged as you took one and opened it, a pleasant fizzing sound emerging from it as your made your way to the couch before turning on the television, even though you knew you probably wouldn’t pay any attention to it. Robert’s odd attitude had planted a seed of uncertainty in your heart, and you were seriously struggling to pay it no mind.

“Alright,” a soft, tentatively hopeful voice in your brain whispered. “but what if he does feel the same way?” 

You even shook your head at the possibility. Or impossibility, would be a more accurate way of putting it. This was no longer Rob, the quirky teenager who wrote songs in his notebook and only dreamed of one day singing them to the masses. 

This was Robert Plant, The Golden God. Girls –beautiful girls– seemed to throw themselves at him wherever he went, or stared at him with amazement and even devotion from the pit when he was onstage. Perhaps he was even flirting with one of them at that very moment. 

“Seriously, why are you doing this to me?” You asked your brain out loud with a groan. You’d positively go insane sooner or later if you continued like this. Now you had actually begun to regret your decision of returning to the hotel in instead of going out with the boys and having fun, as it looked more and more cowardly with each passing minute. Sure, he’d be there but maybe the more naturally you acted around him, the faster your crush would disappear? 

It sounded logical to you. If you repeatedly acted as if nothing weird happened, then you would end up believing it and everything would go back to the way it was. 

“Yeah, right,” you said to yourself begrudgingly before standing up. You wouldn’t let some stupid, insecure thoughts ruin your night. 

Picking up the phone, you dialed the front desk to be met by a familiar beeping sound for a couple of seconds.

“Good night, how can I help you?” A lady answered in a sweet voice. 

“Hi, I know it’s late but is your room service still available?” you asked, picking up the small menu that laid on the nightstand. 

“Yes, it is, what would you like, Miss?” 

“I’d like a large pepperoni pizza, please.” 

After thanking her, you marched to the bathroom to take a quick but well-deserved shower. Not even five minutes later, right as you were walking out comfortably wrapped in a towel, a knock on the door made your stomach instinctively growl.

“Well, that was fast,” you thought as you made your way to the door and swung it open. 

However, instead of the room service person you expected, you were met by Robert’s surprised glance as he helplessly stared at you for the single second it took for both of you to react, you slamming the door shut on his face with a yelp and him repeatedly apologizing, immediately looking away even after you had closed the door. 

“What are you doing here?!” You asked, bewildered, as you made your way to your closet and found the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed, throwing it on as you hurriedly made your way back to the door, opening it to find the poor singer looking awfully flustered. 

“I want–” he stammered and cleared his throat, “I just wanted to see if you were still feeling better. I mean, if you were feeling sicker already.” 

He blinked a couple of times and shook his head bashfully, frustrated at his involuntary lapsus. 

“What about the boys?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Robert just smiled and shrugged dismissively. 

“They can do just fine without me. How are you feeling?” 

“Golden!” you said, your voice raising almost an octave out of nervousness. Yeah, you were many things, but a professional liar wasn’t one of them. “Do you...want to come in?” 

He nodded and both of you stepped into the room. It wasn’t until then that you realized he had brought an acoustic guitar with him. After looking around the room, Robert finally deposited it atop the coffee table. The room probably seemed small compared to the much, much nicer ones the hotel where the band was staying at had, but he couldn’t care less. 

“I brought you chicken soup,” he announced, lifting the paper bag he was carrying. “Seemed to me that you were coughing earlier, and the cabbie said there was a small restaurant not far from here and...I hope it helps.” 

“Thanks,” you said, a warm feeling spreading through your chest as you gifted him with a sincere smile. Now you almost felt guilty about lying to them about being sick. 

“So,” he said, gesturing towards the T.V. “What are we watching?” 

“Oh, I wasn’t really paying any attention to it,” you admitted, to which he chuckled and settled on the couch. 

“You just needed some background noise?” he asked, familiarized with your habit that stemmed from your hatred of silence. “Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing,” 

He patted the guitar case and then the spot next to him on the couch, which you settled in with just a little hesitation. 

“With what tale of vikings or Celtic legend will you grace my ears tonight, Rob?” you asked, to which he half-heartedly laughed. 

Your smile fell a little. There it was, those odd gestures that had become increasingly frequent and made you so uneasy. He pressed his lips together until they were just a thin line and took a deep breath before shaking his head. 

“None, really. I wanted to show you something I’ve been working on. Well, we’ve been working on, the melody is Jimmy’s but he said he wanted me to put words to it and...never mind, I’m rambling again.” 

You nodded in agreement with a shaky snicker as you brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them. Robert carefully placed his fingers on the strings and began to play, only to interrupt the melody after just a couple of chords. 

“It’s just...It’s not done yet, alright? This is just...a sample, if you may.”

“Quit stalling!” you said with an impatient laughter, shoving his shoulder playfully. He normally wasn’t afraid to show you the songs he wrote, so you knew there was something about this one. 

“Alright,” he said quietly before he began to strum the chords gently once again. He swallowed hard as he parted his lips and began to sing in that clear, whispering voice of his. 

“It is the summer of my smiles

flee from me, keepers of the gloom

Speak to me only with your eyes,

it is to you I give this tune…”

The melody was gorgeous, but that was no surprise. Jimmy had an amazing talent for those things. However, it was not the melody that had captured your attention. It was the lyrics, and the evident feeling with which Rob vocalized every one of them. He kept singing, humming during the bits he still had no lyrics for. 

“I’ve felt the coldness of my winter

I never thought it would ever go 

I cursed the gloom that set upon us, ‘pon us, ‘pon us

But I know that I love you so

But I know that I love you so…” 

He strummed all the chords one last time to close the song and stared at you nervously. 

“That’s...that’s all I have so far. What do you think?” 

“Rob, that’s beautiful.” You said, almost breathlessly. It really was. Even though to you his lyric writing ability was unbeatable, and this had been just a small display of it, he truly had something special there. “I can’t wait to hear it when it’s complete. I don’t know where you get all these beautiful words and ideas from.” 

“I do.” He blurted out. You looked at him and tilted your head, puzzled. He did? What was that supposed to mean? Of course he did, that was kind of obvious. However, as you looked at him inquiringly, he just kept staring back, like he expected something to fall into place in your head at any moment. Suddenly, he moved his hand forward and placed it on top of yours. 

“Y/n, I didn’t come here just to check in on you. I need to talk to you about something.”

Those words sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. This was it. He knew. What else could that possibly mean? You were about to blurt out any excuse to explain your recent behavior, try to dig a new way out of that situation, figure out a new escape plan; until you felt the warmth of Robert’s palm when his free hand cupped your cheek. 

Then, he so slowly began to lean close to you, closer than he had ever been, until his warm, musky breath hit your face. 

“I know where I get those words from. I’ve known since the day you got me that notebook and told me it was where many songs that’d go down in history would be written. And I’ve known since you fell asleep on my shoulder during that first flight to America, and you can’t possibly know how many moments of my life wouldn’t have been complete without you ever since. And before I start rambling again I need you to know, I love you Y/n.” 

“You do?” you asked, half expecting to wake up from whatever hope-fueled dream this felt like, but as that smile you loved so much that hadn’t changed in years tugged at the edge of his lips and his hand squeezed yours tighter, you realized this was all real.

“Me too,” was all you managed to say, breathlessly, overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through your chest. 

It didn’t take him a single second to close the breach between your lips and his, bringing his other hand to cup your face as well before slowly letting them fall down your neck, finally settling them around your waist, pulling you closer and allowing you to carefully slide your arms around his neck. 

“I knew it was a bad idea to hold myself back,” he said with a chuckle after slowly pulling away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “I just thought...I don’t know, you were acting so oddly around me lately that I thought you knew and you were trying to push me away, you know?” 

“I guess we are two birds of a feather, huh?” you said with an amused smirk. 

Robert didn’t say anything. He just smiled as he brought you in for another kiss, and you knew that neither of you would have it any other way. 

[deafgaynerd]

what happens after dinner

Malcolm and Edrisa attend family dinner for the first time as an official couple.

(written for @brighttanaka)

check it out on ao3

Malcolm Bright walked into the Major Crimes meeting room to clean up their most recent case board. He had caught their killer by doing what he does best, going just far enough into danger that he succeeds (while also making everyone else worry) but not far enough to die. He organized everything into case files to put into storage. The Major Crimes team filed into the room for a debrief. 

Gil Arroyo, Dani Powell, and JT Tarmel joined Malcolm in the room. They didn’t sit down, instead electing to stand around the table as all attention turned to Gil. He went over assignments for paperwork, gave out praise for closing the case and thanked Malcolm for joining them. He did this after every case, thanking Malcolm for his work as if he was unaware that Malcolm was always, constantly itching to work on a new case, to solve a new murder. Gil made sure each case ended in a way that if Malcolm ever had to stop consulting, heaven forbid, his last case ended well and he was in good standing with each person on the team. That, and he knew that someone needed to praise Malcolm for being as smart as he was. Many people just expected him to be smart, they didn’t feel the need to congratulate him or tell him that whatever he did for the case was helpful and productive. Malcolm needed this occasionally though, and since Gil knew this, he made it a part of their case-ending routine.

Gil ended the meeting with a promise to see them all at family dinner and sent them all to their respective partners. Bright is the last to walk towards the door before he’s summoned back to talk with his surrogate dad.

“I know this is Edrisa’s first family dinner as your girlfriend, but make sure she knows that she doesn’t have to act any different than she is. We all know her, and we love her for who she is, she doesn’t have to impress us by being someone else,” Gil told Malcolm as he picked up the file box and walked towards the door.

“You do know that I can’t make Edrisa do anything, right?” Malcolm reminds the lieutenant. “I will remind her, though. If only to help reassure her. Dinner’s at 7:30 right?”

“Yeah, but you know your mother, you better-” Gil began.

“-Get there by 6:30, I know. Thanks, Gil. I’m going to go see if Edrisa is ready now. See you later.” Malcolm left Gil to put up the case file in the records room. 

Malcolm made his way to his girlfriend’s office a few levels down. His new romantic partner was the medical examiner for this NYPD precinct, Edrisa Tanaka. Edrisa had an eccentric personality that Malcolm had been drawn to ever since he started consulting for Gil. They had so much in common and were constantly in awe of each other’s intellect. They understood each other very well and were nearly perfectly in sync, saving each other from dangerous things at crime scenes, and just being able to brainstorm about cases together. 

Of course, Malcolm and Edrisa had things in common other than work. They were both interested in the same type of things, between human anatomy, ancient weaponry, and classic stories, among other things, they curated a wonderful friendship that blossomed to a romantic one. Malcolm was always worried that with everything that he deals with, he would overwhelm Edrisa, but she reassures him this isn’t the case, whenever he needs to hear it. 

Edrisa and Malcolm fit each other well, so well, in fact, that Edrisa says “Hi Bright!” before Malcolm has pulled his second foot across the threshold of the morgue. He smiled and walked the rest of the way to his girlfriend. “I figured you would be done soon,” she revealed. “I knew you finished the case, and Gil’s speeches tend to be around the same length each time.”

Malcolm smiled at her, nodding. “Are you ready to head home to get dressed for dinner at the Whitly House, Ris?” He asked, moving directly in front of her to capture her attention.

“I just have to finish filling out today’s paperwork on this autopsy, it should only take a few minutes.” Edrisa told him, smiling. She then proceeded to explain what she had found out in this autopsy, a case Bright was not assigned to, and Malcolm listened intently, fascinated by not only her findings, but the passion with which she talked about her cases. Once Edrisa had finished, Malcolm helped her gather her things and they headed to the car. 

When they got home, Edrisa held up two outfits. “Which one do you think would go over the best with your family?” She asked. “Ainsley helped me pick out some clothes that would look appropriate for your mother, which one do you think I should wear? I don’t want to wear something that would upset Jessica Whitly, ” 

Malcolm studied the two outfits. One was a knee-length, emerald dress. The other was a navy blue suit with a lighter blue patterned shirt underneath. “I think you should go with the suit, it feels more ��Edrisa.” Besides, my mother loves you already, Everyone who will be there loves you already. This will go fine, I promise.” 

She nodded and left to change. “I know that I already know everyone, Malcolm, but this time it’s different. This time we’re going as a couple.”

“Edrisa, it’s just our friends and my family. You got this. We’ve got this. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.” Malcolm reassured her. She walked out and he couldn’t help but stare. She looked gorgeous. “Wow, Ris, you look amazing.” He got up and walked over to her, grabbing her hands and looking into her eyes. “We got this.” He said again.

“We got this,” Edrisa repeated.

The pair arrived at the Whitly House at 6:30 on the dot. Gil was already there, of course. So were Ainsley and Dani, since Ainsley had decided to live at home again to help out their mom and Dani coming over to visit her girlfriend before dinner. The only couple missing were the Tarmels. They started joining family dinners when Dani and Ainsley got together, because it didn’t feel right to have 3/4 of the team at dinner. They also invited Edrisa, before she and Bright had gotten together, and she had been participating. It had been a few weeks since Malcolm and Edrisa became a couple, but Edrisa had been busy for the past few family dinners. This was their very first one as an official couple.

At 6:45, JT and Tally came in, sheepishly. “We’re sorry, Jessica, the babysitter was late.” JT informed the night’s hostess. “We made dessert though. We brought brownies.”

“Who is this “we” you speak of, JT Tarmel.” Tally scolded, making Jessica laugh. Gil took the tray of brownies from JT and put them in the kitchen. 

“Now that we’re all here, let’s have a drink and prepare for dinner,” Jessica announced. 

At 7:30, the group sat down at the dinner table as the waiter brought out their dishes. They ate peacefully for a while, making small talk with the people around them. It was nice, getting to catch up with all their friends outside of work. They made sure to have family dinner at least once a week, because Jessica wanted to know what was happening with her children. All of them, which now included JT and Tally. 

“Edrisa, I hope Malcolm is treating you well,” Jessica said loud enough that everyone can hear. “I taught him better than to treat you poorly.” 

“Oh! Ma’am, Malcolm is wonderful. He’s so attentive, he’s kind, he’s sweet, he doesn’t leave a girl hanging, if you know what I mean,” Edrisa says, smiling at Malcolm who, all of a sudden, has a look of panic on his face. Most people can’t tell, but Edrisa has noticed. “He’s very thoughtful,” Edrisa continued, “and he loves me, too, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” She looked at Jessica with that statement and Jessica couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sure he does,” she responded before going back to talking with Gil. No doubt, they’re discussing how all of their kids ended up dating each other. Or, something about how they ended up here. They’re sentimental like that during family dinners. 

After dinner and dessert, the couples broke off, heading to their own places. Edrisa and Malcolm went back to Malcolm’s place, where Edrisa always stayed over the weekend. They crawled into bed, Edrisa reading Dracula, sitting up against the headboard, and Malcolm scrolling on his phone, reading over a new psychological research paper. Edrisa has a favorite out of Malcolm’s clothes to wear, his old Harvard sweatshirt. No matter how many times it gets washed, it always smelled like Bright, and it was the warmest and coziest out of all of his tops, and he knew to leave it ready for her when they came home for the weekend. 

After finishing his article, Malcolm rolled over to lean against Edrisa. “Are you done yet, Ris?” He asked her. She looked down and smiled, before lifting her arms up to let him lay on her more. 

“I am not done reading yet, no. I’ll tell you when I am.” She responds to him. Malcolm takes the invitation and lays his head on her shoulder while she reads. He wraps his arms around her torso while she brings her hands back down, using his back as a resting place for the book and running the other hand through his hair. She knew that the best way for him to not have nightmares was for him to be holding onto her, and she knew that dealing with his family always exhausted him and he could use the rest. 

Malcolm eventually fell asleep cuddling her while Edrisa finished rereading her book. She turned off the light and moved just enough so that she's laying down with him. She fell asleep in his arms and it’s the best sleep either of them has had in a while. 

[allsassnoclass]

how about “i know we hate each other but it’s christmas eve and your flight was cancelled please come inside” for muke? xx

Here you are my darling I hope you enjoy it!

Ficmas Day 6

Rating: teen and up

Read on AO3

Michael is woken up at ten in the morning by Mariah Carey passionately singing about what she wants for Christmas, accompanied by a voice that Michael has become unfortunately accustomed to within the past four months.  He groans and flops over, pulling his pillow over his head and hoping for the thousandth time that his neighbor might suddenly lose his voice, or at least lose the ability to blast music when Michael is still trying to sleep.  He’s coming off of the night shift and it’s Christmas Eve.  He should be allowed to actually sleep.

The pillow doesn’t help, so he slaps his hand against the wall as loudly as he can.  That doesn’t seem to help either, and Luke keeps hitting high notes that would be really impressive if Michael wasn’t currently plotting his murder.

Plotting Luke Hemming’s murder is something that Michael does frequently.  He’s never immediately disliked someone so quickly, but Luke is not only a professional at waking him up during what little sleep Michael is trying to get, but he has managed to set off the fire alarm with his cooking failures three times already, he sometimes keeps a bike in the hall that Michael almost always manages to run into no matter where it is, and when he watches TV it’s always bad reality programs at top volume.  His mail continuously somehow ends up in Michael’s slot, and he never says “thank you” when Michael gives it to him.  He has an endless trail of people tramping in and out of his apartment at all hours, but Calum said he got passive-aggressive about buzzing him up when Michael was still in the shower, despite them having met in the lobby multiple times and Luke knowing that Calum is Michael’s emergency contact.

When Michael ran into him during his move-in and said hi, Luke’s dog had growled at him.

Dogs love Michael.

Despite his cherubic blonde curls and dreamy blue eyes, Luke Hemmings might be the devil.  This was only confirmed when he started playing Christmas music and decorating his door the day after Halloween.

Michal isn’t a grinch.  He likes Christmas as much as the next person who grew up celebrating it, but he likes when it’s confined to the proper month.  There’s something to be said about the feel-good movies and lights twinkling against the snow at night, but he works overnights at a 24 hour grocery store, and at this point Christmas music makes him want to claw his ears off.  Luke doesn’t seem to listen to anything else, and he has a wreath and line of jingle bells on his door.  Michael doesn’t even want to see what the inside of his apartment looks like.

His one solace is that today Luke is catching a plane to go back to his parents’ house.  Their bedrooms share a wall, and Michael has heard him making plans to load up Petunia and spend Christmas at his childhood home.  Michael is not so lucky, confined to his apartment for the holiday.

He’s not sure what his plans are yet.  He’s trying not to be too sad about it, but it’s difficult when everyone under the sun is getting to spend it with family and he’s going in for a night shift.

The song on the other side of the wall switches to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”  Michael tries to block out Luke’s self-dueting and viciously stamps down the jealousy bubbling in his gut.

-/-

Luke finally leaves the apartment at 2 pm.  Michael hears him cooing to his dog and the jangle of keys as he locks up, and then the apartment is blessedly silent.  He lays in bed for an hour scrolling through his phone, but eventually seeing everyone’s messages about the holiday and seeing their families becomes too much and he gets up, making his way to the shower.  The apartment is colder than usual, and when he looks out the window he only sees a mass of white, swirling too fast to make out individual flakes.  Chicago seems to be living up to its nickname.  Maybe it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have to drive far to get to work tomorrow.  He bundles up in his coziest sweatshirt and sweatpants and his favorite pair of fuzzy socks, anyway.

Michael is getting something to eat when he hears Luke’s voice again, still talking to his dog.  It’s clearly coming from the hallway, and Michael frowns when something thumps, followed by Luke apologizing.  He leaves the plate with his half eaten toast on the counter and presses his ear to the door, trying to make the words take distinct shape.

“... know, girl, but we’re almost back,” Luke says.  “Then we’ll… I don’t know.  We’ll figure something else out, right?  Fuck, where are my fucking keys?”  Something else hits the floor.  Luke sniffs.

“Fuck,” he says, but it’s small and fragile.  Michael hasn’t heard Luke sound defeated before now, and he doesn’t think he ever wants to hear it again.  To know that someone who typically is annoyingly joyful is unable to keep up that demeanor outside the privacy of his own home makes Michael’s heart break a little.

Maybe that’s why he opens the door.  Michael doesn’t know; if he was asked, he’d have to say that he was reaching for the doorknob before his mind caught up with his limbs.

Luke scrambles at the sound, wiping at his eyes.  He’s crouched on the floor, mittens in his hand, a large duffle on the floor next to him and a backpack open in front.  Petunia’s dog crate is blocking part of the hallway.

“Luke,” Michael says.  He doesn't have anything else to say; he didn’t think this far ahead.

“I’ll be quieter,” Luke sniffs.  “Sorry.  Don’t want to ruin your perfect day.”

“That’s not why I’m out here,” Michael frowns.  “It’s just a normal day for me.  Did your flight get cancelled?”

“What do you think?” Luke snaps.  “It’s a blizzard out there.  All flights are grounded until at least tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Michael says.  Luke’s face twists up, and he looks down and takes a breath.  He paws through something in his backpack, but it’s packed in pretty tight and he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, hands falling uselessly after a moment.

“I can’t find my keys,” he says, voice small again.

“Oh.  Do you… you can come and look for them in my apartment, if you want.  Just so you’re not spilling all your stuff in the hallway, you know?”

Luke frowns.

“I guess I could make hot chocolate, too?” Michael offers.  “I mean, it must be pretty cold out there, with the snow and wind and everything.”

“You hate me,” Luke says flatly.

“I know.  Well, I don’t--” he sighs.  Even when he’s trying to do something nice for him, talking to Luke is infuriating.  “Look.  I know that we don’t like each other, but it’s Christmas Eve and your flight was just cancelled.  Do you want hot chocolate or not?”

Luke looks at his backpack, then at the dog crate.

“Can I let Petunia out?”

“Sure, as long as she doesn't growl at me.”

Luke considers for another moment, long enough that Michael has to tamp down the urge to fidget with his sleeves.

“Okay,” he says.  Then, after a delay, “Thanks.”

Michael nods once, then retreats back into his apartment and holds the door open.

Luke gathers up his backpack and drags the dog crate behind him, immediately crouching to undo the clasp once Michael closes the door.

Petunia woofs in the crate while he fumbles with the latch, launching forward and nearly tackling Luke once he finally gets it open.  He hugs her to him, burying his face in her back, and Michael makes himself look away, reaching for the mugs instead and checking to ensure there's water in the kettle before putting it on the stove.

If Luke wants his cocoa made with milk, he can suck it.  Michael hopes he isn't expecting whipped cream, either.

"Can Petunia be on your furniture?" Luke asks, still hugging the wriggling beast.  She's a solid dog.  Michael isn't sure how Luke got her crate down the stairs.

"Sure," he says.  Luke gets her go and she wanders around the apartment sniffing every corner.  Michael hopes he didn't leave any snacks lying around.  He breaks eye contact with the kettle to peer around the corner and ensure that his bedroom door is closed, too.

"So," he says as he gets out two packets of cocoa mix, ripping them open and pouring them into the mugs.  "Where... um, where does your family live?"

He glances at Luke, standing in the middle of the room and looking around with a slight frown on his face.

He could try to seem less judgmental.  Michael's trying to help him out here.

"They're in California," Luke says.  "The northern part."

"Oh.  That'd be a long flight."

"Yeah," Luke says.  He doesn't say anything else and Michael has just about run out of his small talk, so he turns back to the kettle and wills it to heat up faster.  Petunia's dog collar jingles and Michael looks back long enough to see her hop up on the couch next to where Luke has finally sat down.

"You don't have any Christmas decorations up," Luke says.

"Oh," Michael replies.  "No, I guess not."

"Do you not celebrate?  Sorry, I don’t know your religion or anything."

"Not really," he says.  "I mean, I kind of do, but I'm an atheist, and since I can't go home doing Christmas by myself felt depressing.  Calum and I already exchanged gifts."

"Oh," Luke says.  "Where does your family live?"

"St. Louis.  I have a shift tomorrow night, so it didn't seem worth the drive."

"Sorry," Luke frowns.

"S'okay.  Better than trying to go home and having the flight be cancelled."

Luke purses his lips.  Michael hopes he doesn’t start crying.  Thankfully the kettle chooses that moment to squeal, giving Michael something to do besides stare dumbly at Luke.  For someone who spent what was probably a very frustrating and frazzling amount of time at the airport, his hair looks infuriatingly good right now.

"Do you want marshmallows?" he asks.  "They're a little stale."

"Sure," Luke says.  "Thanks."

Michael gets the marshmallows from his cupboard and plops a few into each of their drinks.  He gives Luke the mug his parents got him with his college logo, keeping the Marvel one that Calum bought for himself.  Luke takes the mug with both hands, their fingers touching, and Michael tries not to snatch his hand back.  Petunia leans forward to sniff, making Michael give her a wide berth on the way to his wicker armchair.

"Are you scared of my dog?" Luke asks.  "Look, I know she has some pit bull in her, but that doesn't mean she's a monster.  She's really sweet."

"She growled at me when we met."

"When was that?"

Typical.  Michael isn't even a big enough blip on Luke's radar for him to remember that they met when he moved in.  Sure, Luke probably met a lot of people that day, but Michael lives right next door, and they've obviously seen each other a lot since then.

"When you moved in.  I was leaving for a shift, you were moving boxes around, and she came out and growled at me."

"Huh."  Luke looks at her.  Petunia looks right back, completely unbothered.  "She's really not typically like that.  The stress of the move made her moody.  If you let her sniff you now, she'll let you pet her.  Come on."

He sets down his cocoa and gestures Michael forward.

"Dude, it's not a big deal."

"It is," Luke says.  He looks sincerely distressed.  Michael immediately wants to correct that, like Luke has some sort of weird superpower that makes everyone around him want to keep him happy.  "I want you to like my dog.  She wants to like you, too."

"Fine," Michael says, rolling his eyes.  "I'll meet your stupid dog."

Luke beams.  He has dimples.  Somehow, this is the worst thing that has happened to Michael today.  His insides feel funny, like he swallowed pop rocks.

"Be nice, Piggy," Luke says to the dog.  Michael cautiously holds out his hand, letting Petunia snuffle at it.  Soon enough she must decide that he isn't worth the trouble because she puts her head back down and lets Michael run a hand over her back.

"She really likes it when you scratch behind her ears."

He tries that out, watching the way her ears flick forward and back and how she keeps moving her eyes from him to Luke.  She sighs and smacks her lips twice, kicking out her back leg and stretching further on the couch.

"See?" Luke says.  "She likes you."

Michael smiles, sitting gingerly on the edge of the couch so he can continue to pet her.

"I miss dogs," he says.  "I keep wanting to get one, but I work too much right now."

"What is it you do?" Luke asks.  He drinks some of his hot chocolate, pulling a face but going back in for another sip.  MIchael’s not sure if that means his cocoa sucks or is acceptable.

"I work nights at a grocery store, but I babysit for some of the families here, too."

"Really?' Luke asks.

"Don't sound so surprised," Michael snorts.

"Sorry," Luke says.  "You just don't strike me as a kid person."

Michael shrugs.  Luke has a point.  Michael was an only child and he gets tired and grumpy easily.  Still, hanging out with his kids usually isn’t that bad.

"It pays well.  They're little demons, but at this point all of them like me, so it's not too bad.  The hardest thing is pretending to be bad at their video games so they don't get upset because I'm beating them."

“I guess,” Luke says.  “I’m a hairstylist, and our salon is pretty high-end.  We don’t get a lot of kids, thank goodness.  I’d be scared that they’d move and I’d cut off the wrong chunk of hair.”

Huh.  That must be why his hair always looks so good.

“You think my hair looks good?” Luke asks.

Shit.  Michael is too used to being alone in the apartment and allowed to speak all of his thoughts to the air.

He shrugs.

Luke makes a pleased noise and drinks more of his cocoa.  His cheeks look a little red, possibly a side effect of him still wearing his coat even though he’s inside with a warm drink.

Michael goes back to his chair and picks up his own cocoa.  Luke takes a few more sips, but it seems like he has used up most of his small talk, too, although he tries as he goes through his backpack, commenting on the book he tucked in there but probably wouldn’t have read and occasionally cooing at Petunia.  Michael is grateful when he finishes his own drink and can take it to the sink to rinse it, spying his half-eaten toast and taking a bite along the way.

Luke finds his keys quickly, zipped into an outside pocket.

“Thanks for the cocoa, and letting me let Petunia out,” Luke says, standing in the middle of the room again, backpack on and keys in hand.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael replies.  “Hope you have a good Christmas.”

“You too,” Luke says.  Michael looks at everything in the room other than him.  Luke grabs his things, calls to Petunia, and leaves for the apartment next door.

-/-

There’s a knock on Michael’s door a few hours later.  It’s still snowing pretty heavily outside, white flakes standing out against a black sky whenever they pass by a light, so it must be someone in the building.  Michael hopes it’s not someone needing a last-minute babysitter.  He’s still tired and trying to savor his one night off, even if he doesn’t have any plans beyond video games and movies.  He’s going to have to resist shouting at the tv into the early morning now that Luke is home again, but he was still looking forward to it.

Luke is standing outside his door.

“Hi,” Michael says slowly.

“Hey,” Luke says.  “Do you want to have dinner?”

“What?” Michael asks, sure that he heard something wrong or is misunderstanding something.

“I dunno.  You’re here, I’m here, neither of us are doing anything.  I don’t really want to eat alone on Christmas Eve.”

Oh.  Michael hopes for once his pale complexion isn’t betraying him, but he can feel his ears burn.  Luke is not asking him on a date; he’s just bored and lonely.  Luke also has automatically assumed that Michael doesn’t have a life and isn’t doing anything which--while true--is a little offensive.

“Okay,” he shrugs.  “What do you want to eat?”

“Well…” Luke looks down at his feet, ever so slightly pigeon-toed.  He has really nice legs, even when they’re covered in baggy sweatpants instead of the usual skin-tight pants Michael typically spies him in.  “I wasn’t planning on being here for a bit, so I have some pasta but no sauce, or I have pancake mix.  We might be able to walk to the Chinese place at the corner, but I don’t know if they’re open with the blizzard.”

“Pancakes sound good,” Michael says.  “I have some eggs, if you want those.”

“Thanks,” Luke says.  “I have some bread for toast and jam and butter.  That’s a full meal.  Want to come to mine?”

“Sure,” Michael says.  “I’ll get the eggs.”

Michael lets his door swing closed.  He toes on his shoes and grabs his phone, then almost forgets the eggs anyway and has to double back to the kitchen.

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to walk right in to Luke’s apartment or knock out of politeness.  After a moment of deliberation he chooses the latter, navigating around the wreath to rap his knuckles against the wood, which sends Petunia barking and therefore might have been the wrong choice.  Luke doesn’t seem bothered when he opens the door, though.  He just smiles and steps aside, then tells Petunia to stop.  Petunia actually greets Michael at the door, too, snuffling at his feet before trotting after Luke to the kitchen area.

"Woah," he says involuntarily once he gets a clear look at the apartment.  There's a fake tree in the corner, which he expected, but what takes him aback is the tinsel hanging from the ceiling in green and red, the small Santas and snowmen standing proud on available surfaces like the TV stand, side table, and counter, and the numerous other fake evergreen springs scattered around.  There are Christmas pillows on the couch.  There's a wooden reindeer on the wall.

Michael knew that Luke loved Christmas given the numerous carol-sessions and decorations seen from outside the apartment, but somehow he still hadn't considered that the inside would look like this.

"I got started already," Luke calls from the kitchen.  Michael breaks himself out of his decoration shock and follows him into the small area, looking in the mixing bowl Luke gestures to.  The batter inside doesn't appear to be mixed very well, just milk sitting around a mound of powder.  "I don't know when you usually eat, since you work so late, but I hope you don't mind.  If you hate it you don't have to eat it or whatever; I'm not the best cook and I know that you're just humoring me."

Luke puts his hands on the counter and sighs.

"Sorry.  I'm rambling."

"It's okay," Michael says.  "I prefer rambling to awkward silence."

"I'm great at awkwardness," Luke says.  "I excel at being awkward.  If it's possible to make a situation more awkward, I can do it."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Michael says, eyeing him.  This Luke is different than the Luke Michael so often sees in the hallway.  He's softened by the grey tracksuit he's wearing, hair now pulled half-up, slight embarrassment staining his movements.  This Luke is approachable and comfortable.  Michael thinks he can find his footing here.  The Luke that he interacted with before today is intimidating in his heeled ankle boots and silk shirts.  This one seems like... well, a little like a dork.

Michael reaches for the pancake mix box while Luke takes a fork and starts stirring.

"Hey, did you put an egg in?"

Luke freezes.

"This needs eggs?"

Huh.  This Luke is a dork who is hopeless in the kitchen.

"You weren't underestimating your cooking skills earlier," he says.  "Have you made pancakes before?"

"It was a while ago, okay?" Luke defends.  "I eat out a lot."

"Every self-respecting person should be able to make pancakes," Michael says.  He takes one of the eggs and cracks it over the bowl, Luke pausing in his mixing to give him room.  Thankfully, Luke seems to have a griddle plugged in and warming up.  Michael thinks it probably was a housewarming present that doesn't get much use.

"What kind of eggs do you want?" Michael asks.

"Uh, scrambled."

"How many?"

"You choose."

Michael has never cooked with Luke.  Michael has never seen Luke eat and therefore doesn't know his appetite.  Michael has no clue what to do with that answer.

"Can I have a pan?" he asks.

"Sure," Luke says distractedly, forcefully stabbing at the egg in his mixing bowl to break the yoke.  "They're right over there."

He kicks his leg out towards one of the lower cabinets, right behind where Petunia has taken up residence.

"Hey Petunia, want to move?" he asks her, crouching and slowly opening the drawer.  She stares at him.  He scratches behind her ears and continues to pull the drawer out as far as he can, but it's not far enough.  Eventually she must find the drawer pushing into her back more inconvenient than shifting her position, because she heaves herself up and leaves to sit by her food dish in the corner instead.

"Is this mixed enough?" Luke asks.  He tilts the bowl and Michael cranes his neck to see.  The fact that Luke is asking him at all is weird, because Michael himself isn't exactly in the running for a Michelin star, but there's something to be said about the easy way Luke has admitted his weakness here and turned to Michael for help.  Michael himself would probably just keep messing stuff up rather than admit he needed guidance.

"Um, it's a little lumpy still."

Luke sighs and begins mixing again.  Michael finds a suitable pan and begins cracking eggs.

True to his promises, Luke keeps rambling all throughout the dinner-making process.  He talks about his favorite foods and his friends and asks Michael if they can add chocolate chips to half the pancakes, as if Luke is the guest here instead of Michael.  When he remembers to catch his breath, he asks Michael about himself, seeking the information he had already ended up word-vomiting.  It's a lot more endearing than Michael thought it would be.  For how annoying he finds Luke, there's something endlessly charming about hearing him nervously spout facts about himself.  It's even more charming when he doesn't reprimand Michael for eating some chocolate chips straight out of the bag.

He manages to get batter on his nose halfway through the cooking process.  When Michael points it out, Luke's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and Michael makes himself turn to start the toast.

The pancakes land themselves on a plate and Luke gets out another two for them to use.  Michael splits the eggs between them and Luke hands out the toast, then they take two of the stools at the counter to eat.

They're not exactly the best pancakes he's ever eaten, but they're not bad at all.  They're made even better by the fact that Michael isn't eating them alone.

Being on a different schedule than everyone else and living alone means that the vast majority of his meals are spent by himself, typically with the tv on just to give a bit of noise.  While Luke turns on the radio softly, Michael barely registers it, too busy listening to Luke's stories of the salon and countering with tales from the night shift at the grocery.  It's deceptively easy to keep conversation flowing between them.

Before Michael has taken his first bite of pancake, he's already decided that hating Luke was a stupid decision.

Of course, Luke is just lonely on Christmas Eve.  While he's smiling and laughing hard enough at things Michael says to sometimes duck forward, close enough to rest his head on Michael's shoulder if he wanted, there's no guarantee that something like this will ever happen with them again.

Michael chews his last few bites slowly.

“Hey,” Luke says as he’s putting the plates in the sink, where the mixing bowl and pan are already taking up residence, “do you want to stay for a bit?  If you don’t have work or anything?  I usually watch some movies on Christmas Eve, but if you don’t want to we can do something else, like…”  He looks around his apartment, biting his lip.  Michael does not stare.  “I have some decks of cards?  We can have more hot chocolate?”

“I’d be down for a movie,” Michael says.  Luke's shoulders slump in relief.  It makes Michael feel better that Luke would be relieved over him staying.  He's astoundingly easy to read up close, emotions flickering over his face and seeping into his body language to create an open book.  It makes it easier to believe that Luke was asking out of a genuine desire to keep his company, rather than misplaced politeness or simple loneliness.

"Great!" Luke says.  "Awesome."

"What do you usually watch?" Michael asks.

"Uh, the Lord of the Rings."

That wasn't what Michael was expecting.  Honestly, he was betting on Elf.

"Like, all three?  Isn't that twelve hours?"

"We usually have them going right after lunch.  I think my parents hoped that watching would tire us out so we wouldn't wake them up early to open presents before church."

"Did it work?" Michael asks.

"Nope," Luke grins.  "Jack--one of my brothers--always ensured we were awake when the sun rose."

"If I had a brother wake me up that early, I would kill him," Michael says.

"Not me.  I wanted him to," Luke says.  "I loved running to the living room and seeing all of the presents and our stockings lined up.  I didn't want to wait a moment more than I had to."

Michael tries to picture a younger Luke Hemmings running excitedly to look under his Christmas tree, early rays of dawn streaming in through a window and fresh snow on the ground.

He doesn't know what Luke looked like back then.  It puts a damper on things, but the image is soaked in nostalgia and happiness regardless.

"If you wake me up early tomorrow it'll be the last thing you do, but we can watch Lord of the Rings," he says.  Luke grins.

"Can we make a blanket fort, too?" he asks.

"What are you, six?"

Luke's face immediately crumples.

Shit.

"No, not like that!  It's not a bad thing!" he backpedals.  "Like, I'm just teasing.  I do it with all of my friends.  If Calum had asked I'd have said the same thing even though I want to."

Luke eyes him critically.

"We're friends now?"

Michael rubs at his chest.  He hadn't even thought before he had said that.  He shouldn't have assumed.  If Luke hadn't warmed up to him in the entirety of their four months as neighbors, why should one night make any difference?

"I guess," he says.  "Why not?  I gave you eggs."

"Yeah, a true sign of friendship," Luke says dryly.

Fuck.  He fucked this up.

"I should go," he says, starting for the door.  Luke lurches into motion, catching his arm as he passes.  It sends goosebumps erupting across his skin, freezing him in his tracks.

"Wait, don't," Luke says.  "Sorry.  We're friends.  Don't go, please.  I didn't--we're friends.  I want us to be friends."

He releases Michael's arm, and Michael feels like he can breath again.

"We're really bad at this," he says.  It makes Luke laugh, lifting at least half the heaviness in the air.  "We're friends, we're going to make a fucking blanket fort, and we're going to watch Lord of the Rings.  Right?"

"Right," Luke says.

"Good.  Let's get started on that blanket fort."

Luke's definition of a blanket fort is more of a nest.  They don't have anything tall enough to prop up a ceiling unless they take the cushions they need to use as a floor, even with Michael going back to his own apartment to bring pillows and blankets.  In the end, Luke moves his small coffee table and they simply pile as much padding and blankets as they can find in front of the couch.  Luke pops a bag of popcorn and offers beverages.  Once he gets settled Petunia flops down next to him, leaving Michael to set up the movie with Luke giving directions, since neither of them could disturb Petunia in good conscience.

Luke ends up disturbing her anyway to take her outside for the bathroom so she doesn't interrupt the movie.

Being alone in Luke's apartment with no distraction is strange, so he takes out his phone and texts Calum.

To Calpal: im in lukes apartment we had pancakes and now we are watching lord of the rings

From Calpal: ???? hot mean neighbor luke?

To Calpal: yeah his flight was cancelled

From Calpal: ????????????? I thought you hated him

To Calpal: hes kinda a dork cant cook for shit his dog likes me now hes kinda funny too we are officially friends

From Calpal: ??????????????????????

Luke’s door opens, and Michael has to scramble for the popcorn so Petunia won’t be able to get at it while Luke takes off his boots and jacket.

To Calpal: g2g tell you later

“Hey, Petunia,” Michael says when she presses against him, stretching for the popcorn he’s holding out of reach.  He runs a hand over her back, fur cold and damp.  “Is it still snowing?”

“A little,” Luke calls.  “I think it’ll stop soon.”  He gets the main light, leaving a lamp on a side table lit, then flops down on the blankets and cushions, shoulder knocking Michael’s briefly.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Luke presses play, and the opening instrumental and Galadriel’s narration fills the small apartment.

Luke is chatty during movies.  Michael would be more annoyed by it if this wasn’t clearly a movie he had seen millions of times before with a million memories to accompany.  Besides, when Michael says he’d like to be a hobbit so he could snack all the time, Luke makes another bag of popcorn for him without asking.

“Do you think--” he asks, then stops.  On screen, the Fellowship arrives at Lothlorien.

“Do I think what?” Michael prompts.

“Do you think I’ll be able to go home tomorrow?”

Michael looks at him, lounging back on the cushions with one of the blankets pulled around him.  He let his hair down, curls shadowing his face a bit more in the low light.

“Yeah, if the snow stops,” he says.  “But if not… if you’re still lonely, you can hang out with me until I go to work.”

“Really?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, why not,” Michael says.  “If you’re not sick of me, I don’t have any plans.  I was just going to play video games.”

Luke smiles at him.

“I like video games.”

“Great.  We’ll play video games.”

Michael turns back to the movie, but Luke’s hand snakes over a snoring Petunia and grabs his own.

“Thank you,” he says.  “Really.  You’ve made what would’ve been a really shit time into a surprisingly nice Christmas.”

“It’s not even Christmas yet,” Michael says, feeling his cheeks heat up.  Thankfully Luke won’t be able to see it in the low light.

“You’ll make that nice, too.”

Michael squirms under his attention.  It feels too nice, and that’s something he can’t afford to consider right now.

“Um, I think there’s an important scene coming up,” he says.  Luke squeezes his hand again, but returns his attention back to the screen.  

Michael is the one to put the second movie in, because Luke is still sniffling over the ending of the first.  Michael’s not sure if he’s allowed to tease him for it, especially when his own eyes welled up.  He cries over movies pretty easily, and there’s something to be said about the loyalty and love packed into the last piece of the story, something that Michael occasionally wonders if he’ll ever find.

He comes close with Calum, but Calum also has a roommate and boyfriend.  Michael wouldn’t mind another person to love, too.

“I think this one is my least favorite,” Luke says drowsily when Michael presses play.  “Too much Gollum.  He used to give me nightmares as a kid.”

“Really?” Michael asks.  Luke nods.

“That, and the scene in the first one where they’re making the Uruk-hai and they appear from the mud.”

“When I was young, I had lots of nightmares about showing up to school in my underwear and everyone laughing at me.  It would happen once a week.  I started ditching school because it made me too nervous.”

Luke hums.

“I wouldn’t have laughed at you.”

“It was middle school.  Everyone would’ve laughed.”

“Not now,” Luke says.  “I know you now.  I’d wait until I knew you were okay to laugh.”

“Thanks,” Michael says.  Luke nods.   He keeps sinking lower and lower into the blankets, eyelids drooping more every time Michael checks on him.  Michael himself would still be in the middle of his shift at the grocery store on a typical day, and he could keep going for hours.  The relaxed atmosphere they’ve formed might let him clock out early, though.

They watch most of this movie in silence, Luke’s commentary diminishing more and more as the movie wears on.  There are a few times where Michael thinks he’s finally fallen asleep and he should take his leave, but then Luke will shift or say something else.

“Michael?” he asks eventually, voice small and eyes closed.  He’s curled on his side facing him, giving up any pretence of continuing to watch.

“Hm?”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Sure,” he says.  Luke smiles and snuggles deeper into the blanket.  His breathing evens out more, slipping seamlessly into sleep.  Michael looks at the way his eyelashes brush his cheeks, savoring the unguarded expression on his face.  He’s almost ethereal like this, as fair and otherworldly as the elves on the tv but twice as captivating.

Michael puts the third movie in once it’s time.  He’s asleep within ten minutes.

-/-

Michael wakes disoriented, tangled in multiple blankets and propped on too many pillows.  There’s noise somewhere near him, someone else shuffling and the rustle of a jacket being put on, but it doesn’t feel out of place.  This person isn’t an enemy breaking in.

“Wha?” he asks, trying to turn towards the noise.

“Sorry, sorry,” Luke murmurs.  “I’m going to try to see if I can get to church.  Go back to sleep.”

Soft fingers brush his hair to the side, lingering.  He leans into the touch before it’s gone.

He rolls over and goes back to sleep.

-/-

The smell of coffee draws him fully out of sleep a while later.  Michael blinks and does his best to detangle himself, sitting up and looking around groggily until he processes Luke standing at the counter, mug in hand.  It’s a sight that Michael could get used to if he was allowed.  He’s in his typical jeans and fancy shirt, a juxtaposition to yesterday, and Michael isn’t sure what that means about the dorky guy who wanted to make a blanket fort rather than the one who always brushed by Michael in the hallway.

He clears his throat.  Luke’s answering grin is wide and familiar.

“Hi,” he says.

“Good morning,” Luke says.  “Afternoon.  Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he hums.  “Coffee?”

Luke pours another mug, offering Michael cream and sugar.  He brings it over, and this time when their fingers brush over the mug Michael doesn’t feel the need to snatch his hand away.

“How was church?” he asks.

“It was good,” Luke says.  “The plows were out overnight, so I was only a little late.”  He looks down at his mug, fingertip tracing the rim.  “I wish I had been able to go with my family.  It’s fine though.  Mum will probably have us go on Sunday.”

Michael nods.

“I, uh, got a message from the airport, too.  My flight got rescheduled.  I’m going to have to leave in about an hour.”

“Oh,” Michael says.

“Sorry.”

“What?  No, this is a good thing.  I’m glad you get to go home,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too disappointed.  He had been looking forward to spending part of the day with Luke more than he thought, and to have that taken away from him feels like a punch to the gut.

“Guess we’re going to have to reschedule the video games,” Luke says.

“Yeah.”

“Or,” he says, “we could go on a date?”

Michael gives himself whiplash with how quickly he looks up.

“I, uh, don’t know if you even like guys,” Luke says, “but I’ve had a lot of fun with you, and I’ve always thought you were cute.”

“I thought you didn’t like me until yesterday.”

Luke shrugs.

“I can think you’re hot and be frustrated about it at the same time.”

Michael nods because yeah, that tracks.  Michael has never kidded himself about how nice Luke is to look at, even when he was cursing his name for waking him up with Christmas carols.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah, you agree that you’re hot and frustrating?  Or--”

“Yeah, let’s go on a date.  Or stay in on a date.  Whatever you want.”

Luke grins.  Michael hides his smile behind his cup of coffee, but Luke can probably see it anyway.

“Want some pancakes?” Luke asks.  “We have the leftovers from yesterday.”

“If you can handle heating them up.”

Luke swats at him on the way past and Michael tries to trip him in retaliation.  It almost works, earning him a reproachful look that he responds to with a wink.  Luke ducks his head.

Michael is going to flirt with him so hard in the future.  He can’t wait to see Luke’s face turn different shades of pink.

They have to clean up the blanket fort after breakfast, and by then Luke barely has time to get Petunia ready before needing to leave.  Michael offers to drive him to the airport, but Luke says Petunia rides best in his car, and he’d rather park it at the airport so he doesn’t have to call for a ride home.

Luke walks him to his door, even though it’s only a few feet away.

“Hey,” he says.  “Thanks again for making me pancakes and watching movies with me, and for inviting me in for hot chocolate earlier.  I’m glad you did.”

“I’m glad you said yes,” Michael says.  “Let me know when you get back.”

“I will.”

“Have a good time,” Michael says.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Michael.”

Luke leans forward and kisses his cheek.  When he steps back, he’s smiling again.  Michael mirrors it and stays standing in front of his door until Luke has disappeared into his.

His apartment feels small and empty after sharing Luke’s for the night.  There’s no pillow fort spread on the floor nor dog lounging on the couch.

Of course, Luke’s apartment will be empty soon, too.  He’ll be with his family, enjoying Christmas day with them, while Michael’s own parents will be without him for the first year since he was born.

He brings out his phone and dials his home number, listening to it ring a few times before someone picks up.

“Michael?  How are you?  Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mum,” he says.

“Oh, we miss you, darling,” she says.  “We wish you could be here.  Are you still having an alright time?”

“I actually am,” he says.  “I, uh, was celebrating with someone this morning.  Have I mentioned my neighbor Luke?”

“No, I don’t think you have.  Why don’t you tell me about him?”

Michael gets comfortable on his couch and tells his mother all about spending Christmas with Luke Hemmings.

[fleetwoodmactshirt]

roadtrip headcanons (requested)

i think they’d all have a different vibe and a different energy. i didn’t really rank them best to worst, i just explored what i think the vibe of a road trip with each of them would be like. i also let loose and slipped in some super self-indulgent personal hcs/one-shot au idea that is a WiP about ezra as an intriguing handsome stranger you encounter on your solo cross-country road trip. as a treat. s/o to @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ for suggesting whiskey’s fav song.

frankie morales is the road trip king. no matter how spontaneous, frankie can whip a road trip plan together smoothly. he’s got a spacious truck, he’s got a cooler, he’s got the coziest blankets, he’s got the travel pillow, he’s got the camping gear, he knows the best scenic routes, he’s got the best classic tunes, he’s got the best snacks. he makes homemade sandwiches and burritos, wraps them tightly in tin foil. he heats up frozen pizzas, cuts them into slices. he stores it all in the cooler for lunches. when the supply runs out, you gorge yourselves on burgers and fries at roadside diners. but every morning he’ll stop in the nearest town to buy some apples, or some fresh fruit/veg of some kind. if they’re ripe he’ll get avocados that he’ll cut in half for you both to scoop out with a spoon to eat plain while you sit together in the bed of his truck in the shade of a lake you’ve stopped at for the afternoon. but he surprises you with your favourite junk food and snacks. he lets you borrow his cap if the sun is in your eyes; he’s got a spare, more threadbare one in the glove box. he’s low key done the research on the best places for stargazing; you lie back nestled together under a blanket, in the bed of his truck, gazing upwards; you listen as he describes the constellations, tracing them out with his finger.

max phillips. business road trips but max’s...condition necessitates driving at night only. liminal spaces. driving through the night, sleeping in business hotel rooms during the day, dust motes floating in the thin streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the curtains you’ve pulled shut. you see incredible sunsets and sunrises from the highway. you also see some undeniably weird shit late at night on road trips with max. he watches you eat breakfast food at 2 am in neon lit 24/7 diners. while on the road he passes you lots of candy throughout the night; he stocks up from the hotel vending machines. but no matter how much caffeine and sugar he tries to fuel you with, sometimes you’re lulled to sleep by the peacefulness. you nestle your head against max’s shoulder; it’s not the most comfortable position to drive in but he can’t bring himself to readjust and shift away from you. solitary brightly lit gas stations that are like an oasis of light breaking the pitch darkness. the two of you feel utterly alone sometimes; the world has shrunk down to only you, max, in this car, driving along this empty, dark stretch of road, a blush of purple on the edge of the horizon signalling the dawn.

based on how oberyn canonically took his daughters to explore an abandoned holdfast, i think his road trip energy would be all about the journey and not the destination. road trips with oberyn and ellaria would be meandering and adventurous. sometimes you’re riding shotgun and sometimes you’re sitting in the backseat with ellaria laid out and napping beside you, sun hat dipped down covering her eyes, her long legs stretched across your lap. if the three of you come across a motel you enjoy he’ll feel no urgency to leave; the days blur together and soon you’ve spent a week soaking up sun by the pool and sleeping in late entangled together in a pile of limbs after long passionate nights. day by day you may not even travel very far; he wants to stop and explore. hike amidst rock formations, swim in hot springs, explore the local museums; whatever catches his or your fancy. if he sees a billboard on the side of the road advertising local caves, or a petrified forest, or hears rumour of nearby ghost town that’s all but disappeared off the map, you’ll suddenly find yourselves veering off down small country roads, hours from the highway, seeking out pleasure, adventure, mystery. 

marcus has a hilton rewards card so you’re staying at hilton garden inns every night. clean sheets. comfortable beds. complimentary breakfast. it’s very pleasant. middle class fancy. holds out his hand for you to drop some snacks into his palm so he can remain focused on the road while you’re both munching. let’s you curate the spotify playlists.

roadtrips with javier are always last minute decisions to just take off, head to a gorgeous but isolated beach you’d heard about that’s a few days from here. he doesn’t get many opportunities for long stretches of time off, so when he does you don’t hesitate. you might not even wait for a rational time to leave. it’s midnight and you guys just speed off into the darkness. you just threw some essentials into a bag, jumped in his jeep, and booked it. you gotta buy toothpaste and toothbrushes at a gas station, and you borrow javi’s deodorant stick because you forgot yours. greasy fast food containers, half-empty cigarette packs, and snack wrappers litter the dashboard. his aviators perched on his nose, one hand resting on the wheel, the other curled around your thigh, javi on a road trip is relaxed. he’s leaving all his burdens, his worries, everything weighing on his chest, all of it, behind him. literally, the more distance you guys put between yourselves and where you were, the more uplifted his spirits. when your favourite song comes on the radio, and you’re shimmying in your seat, he can’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze flicking between you and the road. he sings along under his breath, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a slow smile spreading across his face.

whiskey pulls up to your house at 5 am on the dot, the obnoxious custom sound of the horn of his bronco rattling the windows and scaring the birds out of the trees lining the street. country music jams ONLY. you argue over his taste in music; does he enjoy being a walking cliche? he will not accept any song that doesn’t have a twang to it. he’d be an aux cord hog if he knew what an aux cord even was. so much for your favourite spotify road trip playlists. “spot fly? spot what fly, where?” still has mixtapes he made himself, the same ones he’s been playing since forever. forces you listen to all his favourite songs, the ones he knows all the words to, while he obnoxiously sings along and ignores your eye-rolling. but he doesn’t ignore how your feet start tapping absentmindedly to toby keith’s ‘whiskey girl’. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk that quickly becomes a broad grin as he reaches over to smack your thigh, laughing he’ll make a country girl of you yet. startled out of your daze, you vehemently deny you weren’t enjoying the song, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. he insists he knows the best places to stop, which means you always end up driving far off the highway to some little mom and pop diner that has killer apple pie for lunch. in the evenings you always end up in some honky-tonk bar that’s joined to a motel and yes, there’s line dancing, and yes he manages to twist your arm and convince you to join in. 

ezra…..as a man who’s floated from planet to planet, following jobs and leads, for the better part of his life, he’s found himself smooth-talking his way into being a lot of people’s unexpected travel companion out of necessity over the years. road trip ezra is on the run from someone or something; maybe the law, maybe not. all you know is this beautiful, mysterious stranger you met under dubious circumstances somehow, with his roguish grin and drawling accent, his kind eyes and eloquence, convinced you to let him ride along with you. you ran into him in the grungy diner attached to an even grungier motel in some desolate nowhere town. you recognized him; he’s unmistakably the lone figure on the side of the dusty road, his thumb stuck out, that you drove past yesterday. you’d driven past but that blonde streak had been unmissable and you won’t admit it but you’d felt his gaze on you long after you’d left him in the dust. ezra’s endless chatter on the road isn’t unwelcome; he knows seemingly innumerable facts about local folklore, flora, and fauna, and he never seems to be depleted of stories. you’d made the conscious and contrary decision to make this cross-country road trip alone, rebelling against a lot of cautionary advice, but somewhere along the way loneliness had creeped in under your skin and settled there. this handsome stranger may have an edge of danger to him but later when he’s bringing you to heights of ecstasy in a motel room you won’t give a damn.

maxwell lord flies everywhere in a private jet. the worst.

din djarin’s entire life is basically one long never-ending road trip. but in space. i figure earth-bound din on a conventional road trip would basically be how we see him: no nonsense. no frivolities. no music; travels in total silence. gets where he needs to go. stops for soup, as needed. stops for repairs, as needed. stops to work an odd job with some really sketchy people for some gas money, as needed. din’s road trip energy would be like that john mulaney joke. you’d see the mcdonalds sign lit up and shining in the distance and plead for him to stop so he’d pull into the drive-thru, order one black coffee and keep driving. except if you’ve got the baby with you; he gets a chicken nugget happy meal for the kid. he’s a good papa! and of course you’d get whatever you wanted too, he provides and cares for his loved ones after all.

SEND ME ANY QUESTIONS/HC PROMPTS/REQUESTS YOU HAVE

[janetfraiserdeservedbetter]

Pins and Needles (Chapter Five)

(Read Chapter One, Two, Three and Four here!)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1499

Fandom: Stargate SG1

Pairing: Sam Carter x Janet Fraiser

Summary:  Janet is a single mother and owner of a tattoo studio. Sam is a florist who has just moved into town. Janet's infatuated. Sam's a disaster gay. Flower shop/Tattoo parlour AU.

Notes: Sorry this took so long and it’s not very long but I’m trying to get the next chapter done! Thanks for sticking in there!

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

“You sure you’re okay?”      Jack and Janet sat in her truck outside of his house, the full moon casting shadows across the stone path that led to his door. Tall trees loomed over them like great beasts, moving together with the winter wind blowing around the parked car. The smaller woman sighed, staring out into the darkness, hands gripping the steering wheel tight.      “Yeah,” she said finally, her honeyed eyes glancing over at him, illuminated only by the dim cab light. “I’m okay. It’s been a long day, that’s all.”      “Course.” Janet turned her gaze back to the house. They hadn’t been alone like this since they cut off their ‘arrangement’ and Janet suddenly felt so incredibly lonely. She’d made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t be jealous of the relationship that seemed to be forming between Jack and Sam but she couldn’t help but the bitterness that formed in her mouth when she thought of them together. “Hey, you know if you need anything…”

     “I know.”      “I can take Cass for the rest of the weekend; give you some time to do what you need to do.”      “Thank you, Jack, but I think the more normal I keep things, the more normal I’ll feel.”      His hand found hers on the wheel. Their eyes met again and then their lips, her fingers abandoning her death grip to take purchase in his short hair. It was a familiar dance, one that used to thrill and delight her but now it seemed outdated and dull. After only a moment, the redhead pulled away, pressing herself back into the seat with a heavy exhale.      “Jack…”      "I know. We said we wouldn’t.” He clicked his tongue, gaze dark in the night.      “It wouldn’t be fair on you, honey,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes.      There was a long pause. “Sam?”      They both knew that there was no point in her answering. Her attraction for the woman was as clear as day and as much as she wanted it to be Jack because he was handsome and warm and emotionally unavailable and that meant low commitment, there was something so infatuating about the woman she’d known for a week.      “I’m sorry,” she said finally, still tasting his familiar taste on her lips.      “Don’t be. You deserve the world, Jan, and Sam’s great.” They shared a smile and Jack unclipped his belt. “See you ‘round.”      With that, he was gone. She watched him trudge up the path and into the dark house and sat there a little while longer before heading home to her own lonely bed.

She was glad that Cassie was staying with a friend for the evening, partly so the girl didn’t freak out about the break-in and partly because that meant that Janet could have a breakdown without her daughter worrying.      As soon as she arrived home, she’d started running a bath and stripped to her underwear, lighting a few candles in the bathroom as she grabbed a bottle of wine and set up her Bluetooth speaker. There was no need for a glass, she decided and moments later, she was sinking naked, into the water. The bubbles threatened the edge of the dub dangerously as she reclined back, letting Stevie Nicks’ raspy voice fill the room around her. Janet took a long gulp of the wine and closed her eyes, pushing the stress of the day from her as she sang along.      All regard for the neighbors went out the window when ‘Dreams’ started and Janet found herself singing the lyrics into the darkness, loudly and without any thought but for herself.      “...They say women, they will come and they will go; When the rain washes you clean, you'll know, you'll know...”      The tears started unexpectedly. Her hands shook as she put the wine down, gripping the bath for support, her chest aching and body quaking. Fire burned behind her ribs as she gasped for air between the sobs. She wished that she hadn’t turned Jack away but more than that, she wished Sam was there. She’d treated the blonde so badly that morning and yet Sam had been so nice to her after the break-in.      Janet wiped her face with a towel, using some of the yoga breathing to calm herself. She reached for her phone, freezing when she saw a missed call notification. It was the same number that had called her that morning at breakfast; even though she’d blocked his number, every so often she’d get calls from unknown numbers and she assumed it was him trying to get to her and Cassie. She’d changed her number countless times but he always found a way to contact her.      He had a right to see his daughter, he argued. Janet told him that he’d given up that right when he threatened their lives. She had a restraining order against him but that could only do so much.      Not wanting to deal with that right now, she deleted the notification and sent a quick text to Sam.            I was awful today, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you sometime?      She set her phone back down and finished her wine. It wasn’t until the water was cold and the candle almost burnt out that she stood, wrapping herself in her largest, coziest towel and retreating to her bed alone.

“So, have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday?”      Janet and Cassie sat in a bright corner of Daniel’s cafe, almost completely surrounded by piles of old books but basking in the warm sun filtering through one of the only windows in the shop. Every day was getting colder so the pair had opted for hot chocolates to pass the time as they read their respective books.      Cassie looked up from hers, a copy of ‘The Great Gatsby’ that she was reading for class, and shrugged, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.      “I don’t know. I think Damien wants to take me to the bowling alley…”      Janet’s brows shot up and she grinned playfully. “Damien, huh? Just the two of you or…?”      “No,” she responded too quickly, cheeks pinkening. “I mean, I’m sure he said something about his friends coming too.”      “Mmhm,” Janet took another sip of her drink and smirked, looking back down at her ‘Tattoo Life’ magazine that Daniel ordered in specially for her.      “Do you think Jack and Vala can come over for my birthday...for dinner?”      There was never a day that Janet didn’t feel guilty for the lack of family that her daughter was growing up without. Her own parents had almost disowned her when she got pregnant out of wedlock and had actually gone through with it when she got divorced and came out. Her former in-laws were dead and any support the pair had before the divorce was left behind in Montana.      “I’m sure they’d love that, honey.”      “Sam too?”

An hour later, Janet left the cafe to check on her own store. She and Jack had patched up the broken window the night before but she really needed to organise a more permanent replacement and get some admin done. She loved her job but she hated paperwork the most. Daniel would keep Cassie occupied for some time while Janet got some work done.      The small woman stopped in front of her rather sad looking shop and sighed. The business was doing well but this incident would put them back until the insurance could be sorted. Gathering herself, she unlocked the door and made her way into the dark studio. If not for the glass and some tattoo books strewn across the tiled floor, it would have been hard to tell that there ever was a break-in. Setting her coffee down, she sat behind her desk and got to work.      She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, on hold with the insurance company and security firm but eventually, there was a gentle knock on the glass-paneled door. Janet looked up and couldn’t help the smile that came across her face when she saw Sam.      “Hey you,” Sam smiled back as Janet got to her feet, stretching, “I saw your light on and I thought I’d come to say hi.”      Janet ran a hand through her hair, suddenly aware that she must look a sight in front of the angel that was Sam.      “I’m sorry about yesterday,” the smaller woman felt her cheeks warming but she reminded herself that she was a bad bitch and continued. “I was jealous...of you and Jack and I had no right to be.”      Blue eyes blinked at her for a long moment and then Sam grinned.      “Thank you. Maybe you can make it up to me. Over dinner?” Janet was speechless. She stared at Sam, her tired brain trying to catch up. “I’m free tomorrow night…?”      It took Janet another moment to gather her wits and she felt herself back.      “Yes ma’am. I’ll pick you up.”      “It’s a date.”

[dinoyoongi]

Confirm or Deny (1)

SYNOPSIS: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

PARTS: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR |

PAIRING: Namjoon x You

GENRE: Romance, Angst

WARNINGS: Language, brief mentions of sexual situations

WORD COUNT: 3363

AUTHORS NOTE: I’m not sure how many parts this will have - I’m just going to write until I’m satisfied and break them up in chunks. Please show it some love if you like it and want more! And yes, this is inspired by the very real “scandal” between iKON’s Yunheyong and Momoland’s Daisy. 

________________________________

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you,” a deep voice butchers the celebratory song as its owner ducks down to slide his body into the car. Despite the spacious backseat, he's scooting his body so that he's pressed up against yours. You can't help but giggle, playfully covering your ears. Namjoon chuckles. “Alright, I get it. I should stick to rapping.”

“No way. Jungkook who? You are the real main vocal of BTS,” you tease, leaning in with puckered lips.

He laughs loudly, meeting you halfway and giving you the softest, sweetest kiss. The satisfied grin on his face when he pulls away has you melting to the seat. “Hello. Happy Birthday, Sweets. How was your day?”

“It's not my birthday yet, you goof.”

“I know, but I feel bad that I can't see you on the actual day so I'm going to be extra obnoxious about it tonight, okay?” he offers and you accept with a grin. On the other side of the partition, the car revs to life and begins to move. Namjoon entwines his fingers with yours, toying mindlessly at your various rings. “Did you finish recording the new song?”

“I did! I'm the only one done with vocals, actually. The producers were really happy with what I did so unless I'm needed for extra adlibs or backing vocals, I mostly have the next few days free.”

“I'm excited to hear it. That's a really good team of producers so I have no doubt that it'll be a hit.”

“I hope so,” you bounce slightly, the thought of performing the new track on stage overloading you with a mix of excitement and anxiety. “I knew the second I heard the demo that this should be the title track. I think it's my favorite song we've ever recorded.”

“Can I get a special preview?” Namjoon asks, leaning in with the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes you have ever seen.

You laugh, giving him a soft shove away from you. “No way. You have to wait with all of the other fans.”

“Even if I give you your present early?” he bargains, holding a small, white box up to his face. You pretend as if you're considering his deal, tapping your finger against the side of your mouth in contemplation. Thirty seconds of this pass before Namjoon groans. “Times up! Deal is off the table. Now you'll have to wait until after dinner for your present. I hope you're pleased with your decision.”

You laugh at his dramatics as the car comes to a stop in front of the restaurant. “However will I live with the regret for the next hour and a half?”

___________________________________

Two hours later, after plates of steak, crème brulee and many glasses of wine, Namjoon slides the white box to your side of the table. Opening the top, you're startled when you see the logo for the luxury brand on the front. Eyes wide, you glance up to your boyfriend in shock. “What did you do?”

He shrugs as if he didn't just potentially drop thousands of dollars on you. “Happy Birthday, Sweets.”

With the most delicate touch you never knew you were capable of, you slide the velvet cover off of the top. The gasp is automatic when you see the necklace that is nestled in satin. A black amulet adorned with a large gold moon and several smaller, silver stars sits on a rose gold chain. It's beautiful – easily the prettiest piece of jewelry you've ever laid eyes on. But more importantly, it's you. Somehow this small trinket encompasses your style, your personality, your tastes – you. And Namjoon …

“Did you design this?” you ask in awe, blinking dumbfounded to the man in front of you. He grins sheepishly, his cheeks tinting red before giving a curt nod.

“Is it okay? I tried to do something that I knew you-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you're already on your feet and crossing the table, wrapping your arms around his neck. The move takes him off guard and he wobbles in his chair, gripping you around the waist to keep you from tumbling. He's surprised to see your eyes full of moisture when he pulls you back to look at him. “Hey, hey. What is this? Why are you crying? Do you not like it? I can get you something else!”

“No, you dummy,” you cry, punching him weakly in the chest. “I love it so much but I don't deserve it. Why did you do this?”

You're pulled onto his lap where you bury your face into his neck, the familiar scent of his cologne soothing your sudden mood swing. “What do you mean you don't deserve it? Y/N, you've been my best friend and best support system for almost nine years. We've gone through so much together and I would literally give you anything in the world. You deserve that and more. I love you, Sweets.”

You sniffle, his words wrapping around you like the coziest blanket. “But my group isn't popular like yours. I can't spend this kind of money .. I can't … I can't give you these kinds of-”

He effectively shuts you up with a searing kiss. When he pulls away a few seconds later, whatever words you had were gone. “I don't need you to buy me anything, okay? I just need you.”

The skin of your cheeks start to burn and you know that your cheeks are probably fifteen shades of red at the moment. Namjoon is the king of making cheesy, romantic comments but you wouldn't have it any other way.

___________________________________

“Do you really have to go?” you whine, pulling on his arm with a death grip. “You can come back to my dorm and stay the night – Ji-na is away filming Law of the Jungle so I have the room to myself.”

Namjoon groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “C'mon, Sweets. Don't tempt me like that. I have a four o'clock wake-up and there's no way I'd get any sleep if I stayed with you.”

You sigh, heavy and dramatic, your grip on his arm tightening as you lean closer. “I guess you're right. Well then, something to tide me over until next time?”

You're not sure where the abrupt confidence comes from, but you're suddenly swinging a leg over his lap and vigorously diving into his lips like a vampire frenzied for blood. He inhales sharply against your mouth and you take advantage of his parted lips to slide your tongue against languidly against his. You feel the vibration of his deep moans from his chest and the hardness of something else from his lap, both of which are pressed so deliciously close against you. Namjoon has to forcibly tear himself away from your mouth, breathing ragged and heavy with swollen lips. You grin at your handiwork.

“You,” he mumbles, gasping for breath as he adjusts himself in his pants. You giggle at the sight. “You are trouble and I will pay you back for this with interest.”

He says it as a threat but you both know it's a promise of the very, very nice things that he'll do to your body the next time you both have a night off. You're already mentally counting down the days. Pulling his face mask up over his chin and making sure his hood is fully concealing his upper half, he opens the door, taking a few long glances around before stepping out. He's almost completely out of the vehicle before he remembers something and leans in again. You crawl across the seat to meet him halfway.

“We'll find time this week for you to stop by, okay? I know Yoongi and some of the other boys have gifts for you. Although,” he pauses, smirking proudly when he catches a glint of the amulet dangling from your neck, “I feel sorry for them. Their presents won't get the same reaction as mine did.”

Your hand instinctively reaches for the pendant, thumb rubbing fondly against the gold. You roll your eyes at his cockiness. “You don't know that. What if Yoongi gets me a pony?”

“Wait – did you really want a pony?”

You laugh loudly, craning your neck upward to chastely kiss his lips before shoving him out. “Go. Rest. Kick ass at the photoshoot tomorrow, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweets. Text me when you get home.”

You're given one more sweet smile before he closes the door, tucking his chin to chest and spinning around to hurriedly jump into a different car that sits behind yours. Leaning back against the seat, you pull on the pendant again, sighing happily as you already begin to miss the man who gifted it to you. As the car pulls away, neither you, Namjoon or either of your drivers spot the large camera peeking over the top of a fence nearby.

Behind the camera, a man grins.

____________________________________

“Happy Birthday!” a chorus of chaotic voices ring out as you step into the kitchen a few days later. Your group mates surround the dining room table, a large cake in the middle lit with exactly 24 candles.

“Cake at nine o'clock in the morning?” you ask sarcastically, receiving six set of eyeballs rolling in return. Namjoon doesn't call you Sweets for nothing. You're the queen of all things sugar. You make your way around the room, wrapping each of the girls in a warm hug of thanks. There's a feeling of contentedness as you approach each girl. You trained with Big Hit for three years before the scandal with Glam saw the removal of every female trainee. Although they transferred you to another entertainment company, you couldn't help but feel as if you were losing everything. You had cried so much after you first practice at Hot Star Entertainment. You cried for all of the hard work you lost; you learned so much and established yourself with so many of Big Hit's trainers. You cried because you already missed Namjoon; the two of you had been pretty much inseparable since the day you were introduced as fellow trainees. You cried for the girls you trained with; they were your closest friends and you had all drawn up so many scenarios in your heads about debuting together. But in this room, surrounded the remaining six members of FRNZEE, you can't help but feel like you hit the jackpot.

“Make a wish and blow out the candles!”

Hovering over the cake, the heat of the candles warms your cheeks. You close your eyes, pulling from your gut everything you currently wished for. Only one thing stands out and you wish for it with everything in you. I wish to keep being this happy. You exhale and prepare to blow the candles, when a door suddenly slams open. The noises startles you, your eyes popping open, seeing a very frantic manager standing in the doorway. Staring directly at you.

_________________________________

BREAKING: FRNZEE's Y/N & BTS' RM Reportedly Dating

FRNZEE's Y/N and BTS' RM are reportedly dating! Dispatch has acquired several exclusive photos that show a man rumored to be BTS leader RM, exiting a car that was shared with FRNZEE's Y/N. Several of the photos show the man kissing and laughing Y/N before getting into a different car. Y/N and RM trained together at Big Hit for three years before all female trainees were removed due to ex-Big Hit girl group Glam's scandal. It's reported that the two have remained close and have been dating for years.

Big Hit Entertainment and Hot Star Entertainment have not yet released official statements confirming or denying the news. Look out for more updates soon!

Numb. That's all you feel. Your eyes frantically scan the words over and over again, hoping that if you looked enough times, they'd just disappear. How did this happen? The two of you were so careful. You're always so careful. You've been having secret dates and meetings for nine years without any incidents. Namjoon. How is he? Is he angry? Is he worried? Is he upset with you? He always spoke of someday announcing your relationship to the world; when BTS' fame fizzles a bit and they wouldn't be so impacted by the relationship status of one of the members. As it stands now, so many of their fans would abandon him for having a girlfriend. It's a hardship you learn to cope with when you're an idol. Like it or not … your life is not completely your own. That's why you're so careful. That's why every meeting is planned so cautiously, the details of location, driver, car, times and so much more are combed through with the keenest eye to ensure all privacy is secured.

Your phone vibrates on your lap. Without looking at the screen, you swipe the green bar and raise the device to your ear. “Y/N! Did you see the article?”

At the sound of Namjoon's panicked voice, your tears are instantaneous.  

“Namjoon, I'm so sorry,” you sob. Pulling your knees to your chest, you hide your face in the denim of your jeans. Hands rub soothing circles over your shoulders, your head, your back. Your members are just as stunned as you are. “I don't know how this happened. I'm so, so sorry.”

“Sweets, no,” Namjoon mumbles with a heavy sigh. On the other end, there's chatter in the background and you know he's probably in a similar situation as you. “It's my fault. I didn't look closely enough when I got out of the car and I definitely shouldn't have opened the door again to talk to you. They've got a clear picture of your face. Nobody can deny that it's you.”

“I know. I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Is Big Hit upset? Will you be in a lot of trouble?”

“Big Hit has known that we're dating for years. They just expected us to be a lot more careful so they're disappointed. At this point, I'm not sure what's going to happen.”

“What are we gonna do?” you whisper. Namjoon's chest throbs at the sound of your voice, quiet and defeated.

“We're going to get through this, okay? This is today's news but tomorrow there will be a bigger scandal and people will forget all about us. Please don't stress about this, okay? You've got your comeback to focus on. Make sure to rest.”

“I will,” you promise. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweets. I have to go now but I'll call you later when I hear from the company,” he tells you. The chatter from the background picks up and he sighs heavily. “And Sweets? Happy Birthday.”

You're still feeling numb when you hang up the phone. Ji-na wraps an arm around your shoulder, her concerned eyes meeting yours. “What did he say? Is he angry?'

You shake your head. Despite the current hurricane swirling over your head, you muster a small smile. “He's the best. He's just worried about me.”

Ji-na taps your hands lovingly. “Does Namjoon have a brother? Maybe one that's single?”

The two of you burst into giggles. You melt into Ji-na's side, soaking up the comfort in her sisterly embrace and cheesy jokes. You were one year older but between the two of you, she has always felt like the unnie. When you're sick, she makes you porridge. When you're sad, she buys you candy. When you're struggling with a particular dance move, she spends extra time in the studio going over the choreography with you so that you're not doing it alone. You would get through this with her and Namjoon by your side. You didn't have any doubts.

___________________________________

“Y/N.”

Head snapping up at the sound of your manager's voice, you see him standing in the doorway, phone outstretched to you. “They already submitted a statement.”

Ji-na glances between the two of you, confusion marring her features. “The article was only released an hour ago, though. How can they submit a statement that quickly?”

You nod in agreement. “And they didn't even speak with me about this. I know they're aware of my relationship with Namjoon but how can they comment on this without asking me?”

Your manager stays silent, pushing the phone into your hand. You frown at him for a few seconds longer, hoping his face will give you some kind of warning as to what you're about to read. You give up and look down at the illuminated text.

Your heart drops to your feet.

BREAKING: Hot Star Entertainment confirms relationship between FRNZEE's Y/N & BTS' RM!

“They really confirmed it,” you mumble to yourself in awe. Is this really happening? You knew that this would go one of two ways – either they'd confirm or deny. Those were the only two options. Either your relationship with Namjoon would go public or you'd keep planning secret dates.

“If you think about it,” Ji-na interrupts your self-ramblings softly, “they didn't really have a choice. There is photographic evidence of you kissing him. They could deny that it was Namjoon but what good would that do? Every netizen in the world would be on your ass trying to crack the case on who was in the car with you. It's less messy to just come clean.”

You nod in agreement. Of course, she's right. You'd never have a peaceful comeback with a photo of you kissing a mystery man floating around. You'd be hounded on every interview and variety program you appear on. And … would going public with Namjoon really be that bad? You're prepared to lose some fans and you're sure he is as well. But no more planning dates months ahead of time, no more sneaking around as if you're criminals running from the law, no more wearing hideous dark hoodies and baggy clothes on dates.

It sounds amazing, actually.

You've just given your manager's phone back when one of your fellow members runs into the room. She skids to a halt when she sees you, taking a moment to compose herself in the doorway before stepping calmly into the room. Her eyes move from you, to her phone, to you, to her phone.

“What's going on?” you ask hesitantly. Her throat dips with a large gulp and the hair on your arm instantly rises. She's nervous. Why is she nervous?

“Big Hit released their statement too,” she squeaks, handing the phone to your manager. Your breath hitches in fear when your manager's face drop with shock. Ji-na snatches the device away from him, her eyes glancing over the article quickly before settling her gaze on you.

“Y/N ...” she trails off.

“What is it? What's wrong? Was he kicked out of the group? You guys are scaring me,” you snap. When nobody hands you the phone, you kick yourself off of the wall and fumble to your feet, quickly grabbing the phone from Ji-na before she can move it out of your path. You don't even have to fully read the headline before you're falling to your knees again.

BREAKING: Big Hit Entertainment denies relationship between FRNZEE's Y/N & BTS' RM after Hot Star Entertainment confirms it!

Minutes after Hot Star Entertainment released a statement confirming the relationship between the two idols, Big Hit Entertainment has released their own statement denying everything. “RM and Y/N have been friends since they were trainees at Big Hit and remain close but are not involved in a romantic relationship. RM denies being the man in the photograph.”

Hot Star has yet to comment on this news. Stay tuned for more updates!

He denied it? He denied you?

“Y/N, don't jump to conclusions. Big Hit probably released this statement on their own just like our company did. He wouldn't do that to you.”

“The comments are so brutal. Oh my god.”

“That's the director calling me. I'll be right back.”

“Y/N, are you okay? Do you want me to call Namjoon for you?”

“Y/N?”

“She doesn't look so good. Ji-na, go get a glass of water and a wash rag!”

And then everything goes black.

READ NEXT CHAPTER --->

[thorsstorms]

The Bestfriend

Winter Soldier/James x Reader (soulmate AU)

She thought she had grown out of her night mares, until she has another years later, and she remembers it this time in vivid detail. The heartbreaking sounds of a man in pain. Her soulmate was not what she expected, but shared dreams means they are your soulmate, right? She was going to love him no matter what.

Warnings: Shit ton of angst and worry.

Marvel Masterlist

The Bestfriend

She stared at the TV screen on her floors’ lobby wall, watching it with peeled eyes just as a few coworkers next to her were. It was only a normal morning, they all start the same. But what kind of morning is it ever when something like this happens. Not to compare it to 9/11 but.. That was also a very normal morning. No one expects to be bombed while enjoying the start their morning. Especially not congressmen and women, leaders from around the world, and her own boss.

She could not think straight, watching as they covered what happened only minutes ago.

“Has anyone heard from Mr. Stark?” She hears someone ask from behind her. Mumbles were there in reply but she turned away from the screen and strutted straight back into her office, shutting the door behind her. It was alarming. What if the tower was next? Who was one to know?

She called Peppers’ cellphone with the land line sitting on her desk. It rings and rings as she taps on the desk nervously. Of course Pepper does not answer, to her own dismay. It was silly to think she would.

She left the tower, rushing the entire way home. She really just wanted to be in her safe space. Her apartment was cozy, nothing bad can happen within her walls, surely. Besides, she could do her own work at home. All she needed was her laptop and cell phone. Emails were easy to handle. The only reason she got her own office in the first place was because Mr. Stark, now just Tony to her, was asking for special favors that were not in her job description. There were little things… purchases, meetings, deliveries that he didn't want Pepper to worry about. Ahem, know about, so she did a little black mail. She was so sick of her little cubicle. She found it unnecessary if she could do it from home but her boss wanted her there, so she never complained. The office was such an upgrade though. The view, the large oak desk and the couch. Not to mention the wall of her own books and items of her own pleasure. The third coziest place to her. The second being her own apartment; the first is an almost forgotten dreamscape garden with her favorite person in the world.

She still considers her special James as her favorite person, despite the feeling of abandonment. She tried not to dwell on it anymore. She liked to pretend he was out there living his life happy without her, not bearing to think about an alternative.

She left messages for both Tony and Pepper saying that she went home, as well as over two thirds of the building. If they needed her for dealing with PR they knew they could just call, but until then she would be doing her work from home.

The TV got turned on after she settled herself on the couch. Her phone was eerily silent on the end table, everything felt eerily silent. The TV was her choice of background noise while she wrapped a blanket around her and opened her laptop knowing that she was going to be more than busy with Tony’s emails, considering.

~

“Yes, I’m fine Mom. I left the tower a few hours ago, right after it happened.” Her family knew where she worked, of course. Doing her own work became increasingly harder to do when calls and texts started to flood in as the news spread, all to make sure she was okay. She closed her own eyes and laid her head on the back of the couch. Overwhelmed was an understatement.

She listened to the ramblings of a protective, yet loving mother. She was always so worried for her daughters’ safety. Especially with no one else to keep an eye on her.

It seems like everytime she gets out or scrolls social media there was another couple. An engagement, a pregnancy, a new house together. Everyone is finding their soulmates while she gets to watch. Everything was happening around her and she was just there, along for the ride. Nothing exciting ever happened.

Times like these her mother wished her daughter could find her soulmate sooner than later. Her mother was clueless as to her daughters knowledge of her own solmate, or even her lack of knowledge on her soulmate.

He’ll show up, she tells herself every night.

“The bomber has been identified as James Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier.”  

The world freezes as she stares at the screen. A close up shot of a masked man.

It couldn't be.

She feels her heart ache, tear in two with hope that he’s alive and fear that he’s alive.

They’ve made a mistake, she thinks.

“No, no.” She whispers to herself. The call was long forgotten and ended with automatic fingers. She covers her mouth as she watches the screen begging it for more information, but not much was given. Other then, “orders to shoot on site.”

She doesn’t hear herself as she cries into her hands, but feels the lump of fear try to morph into a feeling of relief that he was alive. She feels frantic. He’s so close to her. She may be in New York, but he was not too far. D.C. is not too far.

He’s real.

She doesn’t think as she dials Tony’s number again. He has to do something. She’s going to tell him that James is her soul mate. The dial tone ends and she clips the call off knowing he’ll never listen to a voice message. She types a sloppy text, fingers too shakey but way to urgent to fix it.

“Tony plese call me i saw the news you cant let them kill james hes my soulmte i promise ill explain bt dnt let htem. You have to do soemting”

“Tony pleae call me”

“You cant let them sget him first.”

He never texts her back. It’s horrible, he probably thinks she is crazy and she just knows he won’t understand. She can’t bring herself to eat. Or sleep, as much as she wants to sleep and get away from this mess.

~

It’s been two days and there has been silence on her end. The news has nothing new. There is know way to contact Tony, she’s tried everything. Building the courage to clean herself up a little and do something productive was not an easy task to accomplish so soon.

She moped around the apartment, not bearing to even look in the direction of her bedside table where a stack of dream journals lie. She knows what is in them. Her life with James was articulated on every page, ink covering every square inch, front and back. She can't look at them knowing that it could have all been for nothing.

It could never be for nothing, she would never regret what she feels for her James. Her James didn't do this, he could not have.

Her james was kind, and gentle with everything he touches. His fingers picking up a small pink Peonie and resting it on the table. Pink was his favorite. Her James was a curious soul, he always wanted to know more, even if he didnt vocalize it. She could see it in his eyes. Her James was full of life. He was trusting and showed his emotions through actions. She read him like a book.

Her James could not be this man they charge with killing the King of Wakanda. She doesn’t believe it for a second.  

A knock on the apartment door knocked her from wallowing and from the hole she was slowly digging her emotions into. She was sure she was at the stage of anger. How could anyone think of her James to be so cruel?

She quickly got dressed and walked to the door while  squeezing her hair dry from a shower. The persistent knocking continued until she whipped the door open, displaying her irritation. It was wiped quickly when she came face to face with Captain Rogers staring her down. She stiffened as the man stepped forward into her apartment, she backed up from him not protesting. He looks behind him, checking the halls right and left before shutting the door and locking it, turning to her.

She was tense, her face going pale by the look on his face.

Tony must’ve told him, and now Captain Rogers was here to get information so he could hunt down James and be the one to kill him himself.

“How do you know Bucky?” His voice commanded an answer.

“Who?” She asks, lowering her shoulders in confusion.

“Tony said you know him. Did Tony lie?” His tone was stern, giving no room for contemplation.

“James?” She tried to conceal how breathless her voice is. She doesn't want him to get hurt but honestly, Rogers was definitely scaring her.

“I- I don't, I. It wasn't him.” She mutters quickly. She is not sure how to go about this but knows she doesn't want to be the reason her James ends up with a bullet hole through his head. “He wouldn't do that. He’s not the Winter Soldier or whatever they are calling him. He-He just wouldn't do this! You have to believe me!”

She could feel tears welling in her eyes. She was not keen on confrontation, especially with someone that has such a demeaning presence but she would do anything to stand up for her James. If that means powering through and defying orders then she would gladly keep her lips sealed.

“I do believe you.”

“I promise that isn’t him- what?” He believes her?

“Just tell me how you think you know him!” Steve was close to losing his patience on this girl, raising his voice.

“He- I know him from my dreams. He’s my soulmate, we share dreams.” She rambles still stuck on the fact that he believes her. If he believes her then he might not want to hurt him, right? “I promise I don't know anything. I haven’t seen him in almost a year. He never let me ask about him. He didn't like talking about it. Really I don't know anything. But I promise you that James wouldn't have done this.”

She finishes trying to catch her breath.

“I’m going to find him.” Steve says. It’s final, she can hear it in his conviction.

“No, no, please,” She begs him, her heart thrown out the window and all sensible thought didn't make sense anymore. “Please they have the wrong person. James is good, he is kind. He loves me, I know he does.”

She feels a tear slip but she doesn't pay any mind to it. She was not letting Captain Rogers leave here without being convinced. He can't hurt James, he just can’t.

“He’s been hurt and there are bad people that have hurt him but he doesn't deserve to be framed for this. I don't know what he’s been through but I can only imagine. Captain,” She pleads, “if you could have seen him the first time I found him. He was screaming, for ages. Every night he was so terrified of something but I don't know what it was. They've done something bad to him but he’s escaped from them. He escaped the darkness.” She cries, ready to beg at her knees.

She is so consumed with convincing the man before her that she doesn't notice his own reaction to her words. How would it feel to hear that his best friend tortures himself with nightmares every night? Has been hurting for decades with no one to help him?

His eyes water at the thought but pushes it away. Steve reaches for her arms, but she flinches away from him, rocketing to the other side of the room.

Steve’s hands shoot in front of him to show that he earns no harm to her, his brow furrowing at the fact that she was scared of him, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I won’t let anyone hurt him,” he assures her.

She calms, wiping her face and clasping her shaking hands behind her back. Who was she to argue with his declaration to keep her James safe.

“I don’t understand, Captain Rogers.” She mutters but he hears her loud and clear.

“He’s my best friend.” He takes a few steps closer to her, showing his hands in submission. He wasn't going to hurt her. “From before I went in the ice, he’s been my best friend since we were young. I dont- I dont know whats happening or why he’s still alive, I’ve run into him before. Hydra has done something to him. But I’m going to get him back.”

“Hydra?” She asks, her face darkening in confusion. “Is, is that what the darkness is called?”

“I assume so. I get it, when I find him, you will be the first to know.” He watches her face brighten up, a small twitch of her lips at the thought of seeing him in person. Alive and hopefully, well. “And please, call me Steve.”

Steve does not stay much longer with her. She has a number to contact him and vise versa but he leaves without giving her much more information. How cruel is it to turn this into a waiting game?