#consider this a jump back in time before they were dating official but the tension is there as it should be

[mastcrmarksman]

@pympartic didn't like for a starter, but i bat my eyes; bestie <3 gimme the boys

The archer tilts his head as warmed hands go to touch his face to tilt his chin upwards. Clint had watched as Hank warmed his hands with hot water than dried them after insisting he sit down. ❝ Comes with the job, Pym, d'ya remember that part of the putting on the tights? ❞

[be4chywritez]

cat-sitter | max verstappen

max verstappen x roommate!reader

You’re Max’s cat sitter but maybe you were than that.

prompt: Fixing each other’s clothes (+ saying “you look good.”)

beachy’s masterlist🐚

request are open!

Max was always on the move, his busy schedule keeping him away from home more often than not. Jimmy and Sassy, were his babies, but their care became difficult with his constant travel. After a series of unreliable pet sitters, Max decided to find a live-in cat sitter, someone who could provide consistent care and companionship for his beloved kitties.

You, an animal lover with loads pet care experience, stumbled upon Max’s ad. The idea of living in a luxurious apartment while taking care of two adorable cats was too good to pass up, especially given the high cost of living in Monaco. After a successful interview and trial period, you settled in.

Jimmy and Sassy quickly bonded with you. Your affectionate nature filling the apartment with warmth. Over time, You and Max developed a close friendship, sharing stories and experiences from different worlds. The arrangement was perfect, and you were more than just a cat-sitter —you were what Max considering a close friend and maybe he developed a crush on you, but you didn’t know that.

- ✰ -

Max was getting ready for an important gala. The apartment was a mess multiple dress shirts and shoes thrown around, you lounged comfortably in your comfy clothes, enjoying watching TV with Jimmy and Sassy. Max emerged from his room, struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt, his cheeks flushed from anger, you assumed.

“You look like you could use some help,” you teased, noticing his frustration.

He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, these buttons are impossible.”

You walked over and began to button his shirt, your fingers moving deftly over the fabric. Max watched you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks,” he said as you finished, adjusting his collar.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. “You look good,” you muttered quietly, almost to yourself, as your hands smoothed out the chest of his shirt.

Max’s gaze softened, his expression warm. “You look good too,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

For a moment, you both stood there, the air between you thick with tension. Your heart raced, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. Both of you jumping apart hearing Sassy yowl, you smile softly.

“I should let you finish getting ready and go check on them,” you said, turning to walk away.

Max watched you, disappointment in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the gala? It could be fun.”

You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No, thanks. You go have fun.”

As you walked away, you could feel Max’s eyes on you. He sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment. The gala was a prestigious event, but the thought of going without you felt strangely hollow.

You sat down looking at Sassy and Jimmy who know stare at you, bored looks on their faces, “cockblockers,” you mutter turing back to your show.

Max came out, clearing his throat you and the cats turn around, Sassy scans him up and down then goes back to sleeping in your lap.

“So how do I look?” he asks, messing with his watch you scan him swallowing deeply, “Uh you look good, you’re going to have women all over you.” you say giving him a smile, his eyes light up you both stand their looking at each other before his phone rings, “it’s Yazmin,” he says, your heart drops to your ass.

Yazmin was a girl Max went on a few dates with but they never made it official, “She’s going by to the gala too?” you ask trying not to sound jealous.

“Uh yeah, great PR y’know.” he chuckles awkwardly, your smiles fades, but you nod.

“You should get going Max, traffic is going to be bad.” you say monotonely facing the TV.

“Right, you sure you’re good here?” he asks you only give him a nod, he sighs giving one last glance before closing the door behind him.

Max attended the gala, but his heart wasn’t in it. He mingled with the who’s who of the racing world, smiling for the cameras and making small talk. Yazmin clung to his arm, her laughter loud and her comments superficial.

“Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” Yazmin whispered to Max, pointing discreetly at a woman across the room. “quite hideous, don’t you think?”

Max forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

As the night went on, Yazmin’s became more apparent. She wrinkled her nose at a charity auction for an animal shelter. “Ugh, why would anyone waste money on stray animals?”

Max winced, thinking of you and your gentle way with Jimmy and Sassy. He excused himself and checked his phone, hoping for a message from you. There was nothing. Yazmin noticed his distraction.

“Max, are you even listening to me?” she snapped.

“Sorry, Yaz. I just… I need some air,” he said, stepping outside to clear his head.

Back at the apartment, you tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept replaying the earlier moment with Max. The way he looked at you, his soft compliment, and the unexpected tension between you left you feeling confused. Jimmy and Sassy sensed your unease and cuddled closer, their purring a soothing comfort.

You wondered how Max was doing at the gala. A part of you regretted not going, but the idea of seeing him with Yazmin had been too much to bear. You sighed, deciding to make the most of the quiet evening.

The gala finally ended, and Max found himself eager to leave. He looked around for Yazmin and was met with the sight of her sucking faces with a boy way younger than her. Upon closer look, he realized the boy was an F2 driver. Max grimaced but said his goodbyes and made his way back to the apartment, feeling a sense of relief as he stepped through the door.

The quietness of the place felt like a balm to his soul. Jimmy greeted him with sleepy purrs, his warm body weaving around his legs.

Max looked around, hoping to see you. He found you in the living room, the TV still on, but you were fast asleep on the couch. He smiled softly, feeling a surge of affection. You looked peaceful, one hand resting on Sassy, who was curled up beside you.

He approached quietly, not wanting to wake you, but Jimmy beat him to it, meowing loudly. You stirred, blinking up at Max with sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “How was the gala?”

Max shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours. “It was okay. Missed you there, though.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. “I didn’t think it was my kind of scene.”

Max nodded, understanding. “I get it. But it would have been more fun with you there.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by a warmth. Max took a seat beside you, his proximity sending a flutter through your stomach.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Max looked at you, his gaze intense. “When you said I looked good. It meant a lot coming from you.”

You smiled shyly. “Well, you did. You do.”

Max reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “And you look good too. You always do.”

The air between you thickened again, but this time, it felt different—more certain, more intimate. Max leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Max,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. Max responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. The kiss quickly grew more intense, and you found yourself laying back on the couch, Max’s body hovering over yours.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The feel of his weight on you, the taste of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. You stared up at Max, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What about Yazmin?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Max smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “She found an F2 driver.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you. Max brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“You sure you don’t want to come to the next gala?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled up at him. “I’ll go with you anywhere.”

He grinned, leaning down to peck your lips, both of you smiling softly at each other.

“Good to know.” he murmured, nestling himself into your neck.

[myloveforhergoeson]

Edge of Seventeen ~ 2.6k

hi - this is the beginning of chapter 24 and will be a part of the official post later this week. if you don't want spoilers, don't read on! if you want to read a little scene before roxy's birthday so we can kind of celebrate it on the 30th, it is here for you :)

thanks to @uncarved-turnip for helping headcannon the boy's favorite hockey teams! <333

Thursday night. 

Or as the boys had fondly renamed it “Crib Hockey Night,” though, if you asked Roxanne, almost every single night was hockey night once the NHL pro season had begun earlier in the month. Though the boys really only turned the games on if their favorite teams were playing - they were far too busy to watch every single match - tonight was an especially important night. 

James’ favorite team, the L.A. Kings were in a fierce battle against Logan’s favorite team, the Vancouver Canucks. Both boys were dressed completely up in all of their merchandise, which were mainly fleece pullovers, wool beanies, and knitted scarves, so they had set the air conditioner to near freezing, and were fighting with each other for the entire first part of the match. By the first intermission, the teams were both tied with one goal each and the tension in the room could not be more palpable. 

Despite having their own separate favorite teams, both Kendall and Carlos had seemingly taken sides as well, but it felt more like Kendall taking Logan’s side and Caros taking James�� side than picking a team to win the current match. The other two, decked out in their own favorite team’s gear despite neither of them having played for a few days, were even placing bets as to whether James and Logan would get physical after the end of the game despite whoever actually won. 

Roxy had baked chocolate chip cookies in lieu of choosing a side, seeing as she knew the end result of the match would cause a messy fight between her friends regardless. However, since she was dating the biggest L.A. Kings fan in the world, she found herself cheering a little harder whenever she thought they made a good play. 

Tucked into James’ side on the orange sectional of 2-J, the girl munched down one of her treats as she watched, while trying to take in as much of the space heater-like warmth rolling off his body as she could. Crib Hockey Night was no joke; For a moment she swore she could see her breath condensating as she shivered into her boyfriend to steal a bit more of his heat. 

 The chill was one of the only two downsides to their game-watching habits, but the boys swore it was necessary because it made them feel like they were actually there at the rink. And, of course, it gave them an excuse to dress up in all their expensive sweater-jerseys and excess merch they could never wear out in sunny Los Angeles. The second downside was the self-censoring the boys had to participate in, considering Kendall’s 12-year-old little sister was hiding away in her room. There was always something about sports games that riled fans up to the point where they yelled at their TV as if the people on the other side of the screen could hear them. This game was no exception, especially due to the nature of James and Logan’s team rivalry. 

Paying more attention to her baked good than the next play proved to be a fatal mistake for the writer, who looked down just at the wrong time. In those few seconds, James had jumped into the air, practically screaming, “What the fu-dge was that, Drewiske?!” as one of his favorite players earned himself a penalty. 

With her space-heater still standing, watching the screen so intently Roxy thought for a second he might be brainwashed, the girl shivered a little extra as she waited for him to sit back down and warm her up again. 

From the longer section of the couch beside her, Kendall broke his focus on the TV for a moment to grab another cookie before noticing his friend’s discomfort. 

“Jesus, Rox, you look like you’re freezing!” He exclaimed, rapidly taking his Minnesota Wild patterned scarf from around his neck and holding it out for her to take. 

Before her fingers could make contact with the knitted fabric, James gasped, finally ripping his attention from the game before stepping in front of the exchange to stop it. 

“No! Don’t touch that, it’s unlucky! He’s trying to trick you, Roxy, I swear!”

In response, Kendall just snickered. Each of them had their own superstitions and lucky items when it came to their games. In James’ mind, touching the merchandise of another hockey team on purpose was as good as a death sentence for the Kings.

Roxy was a bit grateful he was extending the belief onto her, despite how ridiculous it truly was. She raised both her hands in the air innocently, “Sorry, I just didn’t bring any winter gear from home. My L.A. wardrobe is almost exclusively cropped, thin, or short clothing.”

“I see no problem with that.”

She swatted James' arm playfully as he sat back down, trying to bite back her grin, but she doubted he could feel it through all his layers.

On the other side of the couch, Carlos let out a chuckle as he pulled his helmet off only to pull off a Toronto Maple Leaf beanie beneath to hand off to her. “Come on, man, her lips are practically blue.”

“Ooh,” Her boyfriend smiled, smacking his friend's hand out of her way. “That’s an easy fix.”

In an instant, his freezing hands cupped the side of her face before he leaned into her and stole a few slow kisses; The buzzer on the TV blared in their ears, signaling the start of the second intermission. 

That sure warmed Roxy right up. 

Ignoring the chorus of, “Ugh!” from the other three, she nearly whined when he pulled away, hating the sensation of his lips leaving hers before she buried her head into his chest in pure embarrassment. At least that was warm too. 

It wasn’t long after James pulled off his own scarf, gently wrapping it around her neck and tying it in a pretty knot before extending an arm around her waist to pull her in closer as they tried to ignore the commercials playing over the loudspeakers. 

The sound of jingling keys caused the five of them to turn their heads toward the kitchen, where Mrs. Knight was piling up her reusable grocery bags and heading toward the door. 

“Anyone need anything from the store?” She cheerily asked, picking up her purse from a hook beside the entryway. 

While most of them shook their heads, Kendall perked up, “Would you mind grabbing some extra snacks and pop? I was thinking of having a party on the first.”

A party?

“Of course, honey! Just be sure to keep the guest list small. What kind of cake do you want?” 

“Vanilla, please, with that buttercream frosting you make.”

A birthday party.

Pausing to write down her son’s request on a small notepad she had in her bag, Mrs. Knight nodded, red waves bouncing over her shoulders. “If you think of anything else, just text me, okay?”

Giving her a thumbs up, Kendall turned his attention back to the game with the rest of the band. 

Meanwhile, Roxy did some mental calculations as his mom made her way out the door. After the fiasco with James and Carlos’ birthdays on tour and how distraught he had been about celebrations, she thought he could have at least given her a heads up about his if he wanted to throw a party - especially one the day after Halloween.

Playing with the tassels on the scarf James had let her borrow, the girl cleared her throat over the sound of the announcers rattling on and on about some unimportant team stats. “Your birthday is on Sunday?” 

The boy reached out to take another cookie off the plate she had brought, eyes still trained on the game as he let out a weak, “Mhm.”

“Huh,” She thought aloud absentmindedly, watching as the Kings made a particularly good play. Against her side, she could feel James flutter with excitement and it distracted her just enough to mumble out. “I didn’t know I was older than you.”

Logan was the first to register her statement, jaw dropping slightly as he turned to face her with a confused squint in his eye, though she was too busy watching the Kings dump the puck. 

Next was James, glancing toward his girlfriend as she took another bite of her cookie and flinched at the loud crack one of the Canuck’s sticks made upon contact with the disc to shoot it out of their zone.

It was finally Carlos who voiced his puzzlement with a, “What?”

“Yeah,” Kendall tacked on, finally following. “What he said.”

Uncomfortably shifting further into James’ side now that all eyes were on her, she simply kept her focus on the game. Roxy was pretty sure the Kings were about to lose. 

“When’s your birthday then?” James finally asked her, seeing as she didn’t think the information important enough to offer up without prompting. 

“The thirtieth.”

“The thirtieth? October thirtieth?” Her boyfriend repeated, glancing to his upper left before asking. “As in, tomorrow, Roxy?”

Nodding, she sensed a bit of urgency in his tone she didn’t quite understand.

Arm slipping out from around her waist, James’ eyes were wide as he turned to face her, “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He probably hadn’t meant to puff out his chest, but he did, making himself look all the more taller than she was, even sitting down on the plush couch cushions.

“I made cookies!” She protested, finger gently pointing over to the plate on the coffee table in front of them. “It would’ve been Oreo fluff salad but I ran out of my last pudding packet earlier.”

“Oh, that’s what those were for…” Logan trailed off, rubbing one hand on his arm to warm up a bit. “I figured you just felt bad the Canucks were going to unleash a can of-” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “whoop ass-” before bringing it back to a normal level, “on the Kings and you made them so James would feel better.”

Just as James shot back, “The Canucks are not-” a buzzer sounded off over their speakers, signaling the end of the game. The five had been so engrossed in their own conversation that they had missed the tiebreaker shoot-out that ended the match entirely. 

Canucks 2, Kings 1.

This only soured James' dampening mood and everyone could tell his temperament was only growing worse by the moment - especially Roxy, who was beginning to feel as though she had done something wrong.

At the very least, Logan was kind enough not to gloat about his team’s victory for the time being, though most of them knew he would the minute he felt it appropriate. 

“Look I don’t-” Roxy felt her heartbeat quicken, but not in the fun, fluttery way she was used to around James. As her chest began to constrict under the scrutiny of his gaze, it was getting harder to formulate her thoughts. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything! None of you ever asked.”

If she had the choice, the writer would have this conversation with him literally anywhere than right in front of their friends who were just sitting around them, awkwardly pretending like they were invested in the commercials airing on TV. 

“Roxy…” Taking a deep breath, the boy closed his eyes for a moment before slowly opening them again. It wasn’t long after he reached out to grab one of her hands, squeezing it tightly in his own. “I’m not upset, it’s just… This is your first birthday as my girlfriend - As a friend of ours.” 

He vaguely gestured toward Logan, Kendall, and Carlos as he continued, “We can’t make that special for you if you don’t let us know. How else are we supposed to coordinate gifts and throw you killer parties?”

Ah.

Looking down at her hand in his, Roxy gently rubbed the back of his knuckles with her thumb, feeling her heart beat steady now that he was able to explain himself better. “Birthday parties are important for the four of you - I know that! And don’t get me wrong, I love to party, but a whole party dedicated just to me is not my style. Back home, all my dad and I would do on my birthday is eat sweets and watch TV, just like we are now, so I’m perfectly content… Besides, no one ever comes to parties the day before Halloween.”

None of the boys liked the certainty with which she said her last sentence.

“So, let’s have one on Halloween then. A joint costume party for me and you!” Kendall piped up, already shooting off what she presumed were a few text messages to his mother to grab some more supplies from the store. 

“I’m sensing I don’t have much say in this matter.” 

Jumping up from the couch with excitement, Carlos grinned, “Nope! We just have to make some decoration adjustments...”

He and Logan began bouncing ideas off of each other while the frontman was still engrossed with his messaging. Another game was beginning on the TV, but none of them were all that interested considering their new planning developments.  

It was always shocking to their assistant, the way the band could just up and decide something, then it would magically happen, just like they had hoped it would. So, if they wanted to throw a costume party in less than 48 hours, she knew it would probably be one of the best the Palm Woods had ever seen. 

Now I have to get a costume… The girl thought, settling into her scarf a bit more before James poked her in the side to catch her attention. 

“You know what comes next now, don’t you?” He practically whispered to her, as if he were about to share a secret. While she shook her head in response, she watched as his eyes darted between the other boys. “I need to know what you want for your birthday. Tell me before the others figure it out!”

The urgency in his tone was back again, but this time it made his girlfriend laugh, “Gifts are supposed to be a surprise! Besides, you already whisked me away to Los Angeles twice this year to live my dream… I couldn’t possibly ask you for anything else.”

Though he grumbled a bit at her answer, she pressed a gentle kiss to the edge of his jawline before reaching over to the coffee table and picking up the TV remote.

  “There’s gotta be something you want to do at the very least!” James was very persistent as she flipped through the channels in search of something new to put on. 

“Are you forgetting we have both school and work tomorrow?”

Coughing into his elbow, though he was very obviously faking, he followed with, “I don’t know about you but I think I’m coming down with something...” 

“Alright,” She reluctantly gave in, flipping on an old Gilmore Girls rerun. “I guess I did already track my parts for ‘Big Night’ so I shouldn’t be needed... but if Gustavo gets mad, I’m pinning it all on you.”

As he kissed her cheek in excitement, Roxy could feel the smile plastering itself across his lips. 

It was the first time in quite a while she would be looking forward to growing a bit older.

[damnedparker]

transatlanticism

pairing: tasm (andrew garfield) peter parker x reader (gender neutral; no y/n)

warnings: heavy grief talk. sad peter. sad reader. lots of talk about gwen. post tasm2, you're in college. major hurt/comfort for the both of you. fluff but in a sad way? lol. you, peter, and gwen were all close in high school. peter and gwen still dated. you and peter are dating.

summary: the first anniversary of gwen's death has arrived with a cold wind and a blanket of grief for both you and peter. but you have each other for warmth.

i couldn't seem to fall asleep so this came out of that. it's 5am, i did proofread and slightly edit this but otherwise it's pretty raw. my heart hurts and i need to give peter so many hugs.

named after this song. if you wanna listen while you read. i basically wrote this while having it on repeat.

As soon as you woke up and rolled over to find Peter staring blankly at the ceiling, you knew something was wrong. It only came to your sleepy brain once you went to check the time, and your eyes glanced at the date.

It had officially been a year since Gwen had died.

Leading up to the date, Peter had been having more and more off days, so you knew today would be really hard for him. It would be hard for you, too. The three of you had been inseparable in high school, even with Peter and Gwen dating, they never made you the third wheel. And you never felt that way. Maybe Peter got a little too touchy with her when you hung out, but Gwen was always quick to put him in his place.

God, you missed her.

"How long have you been awake, baby?" You spoke softly, not wanting to be too loud. As if it would disrupt the quiet, or break the fragile tension that seemed to hang in the air at the unspoken anniversary the two of you were painfully aware of.

"Couple hours. Couldn't get back to sleep." He never took his eyes off the ceiling, letting out a sigh through his nose. You nodded. After a few moments, you gently, carefully pressed your hand into his where it was lying face up next to his head on the pillow. He didn't pull away, just gave your palm a firm squeeze. To say I know and I'm glad you're here at the same time.

Another few minutes passed as you just watched Peter get lost in his thoughts, the only sign he was still aware of you and his surroundings being his thumb. It was rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand, every so often dragging rhythmically up and down the side of your hand instead.

"You hungry, bub?" You whispered. Peter seemed to consider his feelings for a moment, clearly lost thinking about other things.

"A little," he paused, finally turning his head to look at you. His warm brown eyes, usually crinkled with a sleepy grin in the mornings, were instead still soft, but swam with emotion. It hurt your heart. "Pancakes?"

"Sure," you gave him a weak smile, half-assed but only what you were able to manage in the heavy air. He returned a similar expression. Another squeeze to your hand. You pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before slipping out of the covers to get up. The laminate was cold under your feet, sending a chill up your spine and matching the one that had settled over your heart. You pushed it to the side and made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Wash your face. Wake yourself up a bit.

Routine was supposed to be comforting, right?

Eventually, you arrived in the kitchen and threw together some pancake batter, having memorized how to by now with how Peter seemed to be obsessed with your pancakes. You were thankful that learning to cook was working out, since otherwise the two of you would be drowning in ramen and takeout. Well, more than you already were as two nineteen year old college students living on their own.

As you were locked in a staring contest with the skillet on your tiny little stove, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Peter pressed himself against you from behind, his arms coming to hold you tightly. He left a kiss on your shoulder before mumbling into the fabric of his old t-shirt you had claimed as pajamas months ago.

"Smells good, baby," he took a deep breath, steeling himself in your presence. Something to ground him. Keep him moving forward. "Can I help?"

--

Breakfast got made in relative silence, the clinking of utensils and sizzling of bacon the soundtrack to the task at hand. You were just glad Peter was up and around. The last time it was this heavy was the first month after her death. He hardly left his bed, and if he wasn't there, he was clinging to you, holding on to your very presence to remind him to keep moving. You both shared your grief, finding comfort and solace in each other than eventually bonded your friendship even closer than before. And a few intense moments later, you supposed you were dating. There was no "will you go out with me?" or any formal question, it just kind of happened. Suddenly, kissing goodbye was normal. Holding hands. Not being able to sleep without the other.

It didn't come without guilt. From both of you. But talk after talk, you both knew in your hearts that it was what you needed. Gwen was special, always would be, especially for Peter. She had a hold on his heart that would never go away, but there was more than enough room for you. He knew his heart would always be held in both of your hands, but he knew it would be safe. No matter how much hurt seeped into it whenever he thought about Gwen. You were always there. And you understood.

The two of you decided to eat on your small balcony, overlooking New York as it woke up for the day. Peter rested his head on your shoulder, a position you would never believe was comfortable considering his height, spending more time poking at his eggs than eating them. It took forty minutes for him to finish his plate, when it usually took about five to scarf down the food. But you didn't mind. Never would. You were glad you got to come to terms with waking up for one of the worst days of the year with him. Just his weight against you settled the pain in your heart to a dull throb. More present than ever, but bandaged up with the knowledge that it would get easier.

As Peter rinsed off the dishes to place in the sink to wash later, you leaned against the counter, watching his hands as he worked. The two of you had the day off, no responsibilities to take care of, so you were trying to figure out what to do so you wouldn't just spend the day sad in bed.

By the time he was finished, you were so caught up in planning you didn't hear the water shut off, or notice Peter wiping his hands dry on a towel. You only noticed when he pressed close to you again, kissing the side of your head. You let his arms come to wrap around you, reaching up to hold the arm of his around your front.

"I need to shower," he seemed to say absent-mindedly, until he directed his next words at you. "Will you...?"

"Of course, Pete." You knew what he meant without saying it. He didn't want to separate from you, even for a moment. Alone with his thoughts, especially today, was a dangerous game he didn't want to play. And part of him felt protective over you, when the ghost of his past failures felt like it was breathing down his neck.

The shower was filled with gentle touches and soft music. Something slow, quiet, and comforting to match the care each of you took to help wash the other's hair, your bodies. Peter began to press kisses across the planes of your skin, chaste, but still loving as ever. Until he got a little too close for comfort with a still soapy part of your shoulder, which left him spitting and scowling. The first laugh, in a day that felt so void of such joy, escaped your lips before you could stifle it. Peter's eyes softened back into that warm, content glow at the sound. Even with the bitter taste of soap lingering in his mouth, he couldn't help but grin. A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, one you could feel from the hand still pressed against it. He chased after your laughter with a kiss, one that made you pull away too soon for his liking, although the giggle that tinkled out of you sent a comforting warmth down to his toes.

"You still taste like soap."

He just grinned and left a wet kiss on your cheek instead.

--

After your shower, the blanket of grief having been lifted just a bit to give you some air, Peter asked you to go with him to visit Gwen. You agreed, of course. Peter had never gone with you to her grave; the two of you had always visited separately. You knew it was something deeply personal for him, as it was for you, and you had never pushed that boundary because there was no reason to. But this step he was taking made you proud of him, and made yourself feel secure, knowing he trusted you this much to let you in. And you felt immense relief, knowing you wouldn't have to go alone. Visiting alone always left you in tears that seemed to not be able to subside for days. And you're not sure you could get past that on your own anymore. Especially today.

It was cold outside. Overcast. Not freezing, but enough to make your bones ache a little and your body shiver if the breeze hit you right. The cemetery was a bit of a walk from your apartment, sure, but Peter's hand in yours helped make it worth it. He made simple conversation as you went along, every so often swinging your hands just so between the two of you. A habit that not even a somber mood could break. It was comforting.

His soft chocolate curls shifted in the light wind as you waited for the crosswalk together, and you couldn't help but stare. That worried crease between his eyebrows was still prevalent, had been ever since this morning.

"You're staring." He interrupted your train of thought.

"You okay, bug?"

"...Not really." A squeeze to your palm. The crosswalk light changed and the two of you moved along with the handful of other people going the same direction. Peter was quiet for a moment before returning the question to you. "How are you doing?" You just gave him a weak smile in lieu of a reply. He understood immediately, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The two of you reached Gwen's resting place with no troubles, having been there so many times before. You gently placed the flowers you'd brought, ones Peter helped pick out, in front of the stone. Peter pulled you into his side, arm grasping onto your waist under your jacket snugly. You just rested your head against his chest as you both stood there, letting yourself finally remember and grieve. It was as if a brick smashed through the wall you'd been meagerly holding up all day, tears spilling from your eyes and over your cheeks without pause. It wasn't a sob, or a loud cry even, just silence until you took in a heaving breath that Peter took as confirmation you had let go. He had, too, nearly the same time as you, the memories and image of Gwen in his arms, no longer bright and eager and full of quips to give him at any notice. He took a deep breath as the tears rolled down his own face, fully pulling you into an embrace that you both needed. He rested his chin on the top of your head as you both just cried. No words, just sniffles and the rustle of fabric underneath his fingers in an impossible attempt to pull you so much closer. The way he needed.

"I miss her so much, Pete." Your voice came out cracked, broken, and watery. Any words of comfort died in his throat.

"I know," was all that came out. Hoarse. "I do, too." He murmured, burying his nose in your hair. He hugged you even tighter, anything to press you as close as possible to him. Peter didn't know what else to say. Especially not when you looked up at him with such teary eyes, chest heaving, trying to even out your breaths. He hated this. Hated knowing you felt the same pain that lingered in his chest on bad days, and even crept up sometimes on good ones. It was something no one deserved to feel, especially not you. Not you when all you did was try and heal him. Give your heart and bare your soul without any doubt, because you trusted him. He felt the same with you, but he wished he could fix this. He was never any good at helping situations that can't be fixed with webs, spidey sense, math, geometry; not even a hug. It sent him into despair.

You sensed yourself that he was tumbling down that rabbit hole again, and you reached right down to catch him with your hands still at his neck, still in his hair, and your eyes holding his in a desperate, loving gaze. Peter somehow found the ability to form words now, crawl up and out of that hole, although he couldn't help feeling that they were useless.

"Are we ever going to be okay?" His voice barely reached above a whisper, matching the light breeze as it drifted across the graveyard. Shifting the trees, blowing the petals of the flowers so tenderly placed at the grave next to you.

"Mostly," was all you could muster. It was the truth. Grief lightened, it slowly drifted away, but never fully released its claws from your heart. You both knew that. Even just a year let you feel that.

Peter shut his eyes, pushing his forehead against yours in an attempt to be as close as possible. He shielded you from the cold, hands warm underneath your jacket as he clutched you near.

[jarofstyles]

can you please do y/n cleaning up college!harry after a fight and theres just a lot of tension bc theyre not yet officially together

Yes 😎🤺🤺

_____

“Y’know, you didn’t have to hit him.” Y/N grumbled.

Currently, she was spending the end of her Friday night in Harry’s apartment. Not the party they’d both said they were going to. She was cleaning up his bloody knuckles and the slight cut on his cheek that he had gotten from a very stupid fight at said party.

“Yeah, I did.” His words were simple and he felt them to be true. Of course he didn’t like being hurt, he didn’t like Y/N being annoyed with him. They weren’t officially a couple and just figured it out but he liked her so much that it was ridiculous. He felt extremely protective of her.

He winched when she took the alcohol soaked cotton pad and gently wiped it over his knuckles, the sting making him hiss quietly. He scowled slightly when she raised her face and raised a brow at him, as if it was proving her point. He wasn’t. He was justified.

Harry knew that she was absolutely gorgeous. Magnetic, beautiful, kind, intelligent, and funny as all hell, and he was surprised when she actually decided to spend time with him. To kiss him a few times. It hadn’t gone past that but they had a few sleepovers and cuddled. It was a gray area but still, he considered her his. He wasn’t pleased when he had left to go to the bathroom at said sticky, gross house party and returned to see some prick from the swim team trying to chat a very visibly uncomfortable Y/N up.

He had stepped in and wrapped his arm around her waist, and the drunk boy thought he was slick by saying they were ‘having a conversation’ and for Harry to ‘come back later’. It only escalated from them, when Harry insisted he wouldn’t and the boy muttered something about Y/N. Saying ‘her pussy probably wasn’t that good anyways’. He was livid.

So it turned into a fight. One that had to be broken up, and Harry had been blinded by rage and irritation that anyone could say that shit about his girl. Something he had slipped up and called her when defending her from the piece of shit.

Y/N wasn’t mad. She was worried for his injuries, despite how minor they were. She didn’t like the idea of him getting hurt, especially because of her… but there was no denying how attractive it was that he had been so quick to defend her. How he had jumped in and was so personally offended for her that he felt an anger intense enough to get physical. All that, and the fact that he has called her my girl. God, it had gone straight between her legs.

“Mm.” She hummed in disbelief. “Well, I suppose you’ve got to defend your girl. So I’ll let it slide.” Her little smirk made his cheeks heat up, flushing as he realized she had caught that. She didn’t seem angry about it, but he was still nervous considering she hadn’t had the discussion with him about it yet.

“Listen- Y/N, M’sorry if that was out of line to say. I know we haven’t had any official dates or conversation about it and I probably shouldn’t have-“

He was cut off with a soft pair of lips on his. A bit stunned, he took a second before responding to the kiss, a delighted and surprised hum leaving his throat. Pulling her further between his spread legs, he sat on the bathroom counter and cupped her face ever so gently, like she was the most precious treasure. Kissing her and savoring every joining of their lips as she continued to give him short, smooth pecks until the smiles on their faces got a bit too wide to continue, his stomach turning with butterflies as she giggled.

He loved kissing her. He had only had a few tastes of her, but from what he did have? He knew that if he was allowed he wouldn’t ever pull away. He would kiss her forever.

“You should have. If you want me… m’yours.”

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false�� rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @hisokaslefttiti

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 67: Soulmate (Take 1)

Harry had really great plans for the day that Ginny Weasley turned 18.

He was in the kitchen at Grimmauld making breakfast when she came bounding in through the front door and down into the kitchen.

"Hap-" he started before she had jumped into his arms and kissed him.

With a happy sigh he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other through her long hair and kissed her back.

"Happy Birthday," he finished but she wasn't paying any attention. She had pulled back and was looking at her arms and hands.

"Where is it?" she muttered.

"Sorry?" Harry asked.

She tugged her shirt off over her head to look at her torso.

"Gin, maybe not in the kitchen," Harry started to say, "Ron and Hermione will be down for breakfast any-"

"Do you see it?" she asked quizzically, turning to show Harry her back.

"See what?" he asked.

She shook her head, "My soulmark."

"What?" Harry said, even as Hermione came into the kitchen.

"Hermione," Ginny called, "do you see my soulmark?"

Hermione came over and looked at her back and hummed, "No, sweetie."

"Are you sure?" Ginny whispered, still scouring her front. Ginny looked over at Harry, her eyes desperate, "Did one show up for you?"

(Read more below the cut)

"One what?" Harry asked. "Can someone tell me what is going on?"

"I was so sure," she whispered before she burst into tears.

"Ginny!" Harry said, feeling alarmed and completely lost, he pulled her into his arms and held her close, "Tell me what's wrong," he begged but Ginny didn't say anything at all.

He looked over her head at Hermione, silently entreating her to help him, but she just shook her head.

Finally Ginny seemed to compose herself. She took a few deep breaths and pulled back. "Right," she said, wiping her tears. "I'm going to go. It's probably best if we don't see each other for a while."

"What?" Harry asked, his head spinning, he was dreaming. He had to be.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'll always love you, Harry," she whispered before turning and fleeing from the room.

Harry stood there, completely dumbfounded until the smoke alarm started going off and he looked over to see that the bacon he'd been working on before Ginny arrived was nothing but charred stubs.

He vanished the bacon and set the pan off of the burner before turning to look at Hermione who was watching him with pity in her eyes. "What the hell just happened?" he asked.

-------

So, soulmates were a thing. Apparently.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder why no one had ever told him that once you and your soul mate were both 18 a soul mark would appear on your skin after you kissed, signalling that you'd found the person you were supposed to spend forever with. What was even the point of Hogwarts if they didn't teach you about basic things like soulmates? And honestly, why hadn't Ron and Hermione said anything at the very least?

It took Ginny less than three months to figure out that Blaise Zabini was her soulmate. He tried not to resent her for it, he wanted her to be happy, of course he did, but Harry was still painfully single and had no real interest in trying to date. People never saw him as just Harry, dating would be a complete nightmare.

She'd asked him to be one of her groomsmen for her wedding about six months after they'd broken up and he'd said yes, what choice did he have?

It was a terrible decision, really, even if you were only considering the fact that they'd been dating mere months ago but there was also the unfortunate fact that Draco Malfoy was one of Blaise's groomsmen so he had to see him all of the time.

They didn't fight constantly, like Harry had suspected they might when he'd heard that Malfoy was going to be part of Blaise's party but there was always this weird sort of tension between them.

He couldn't seem to stop watching him, or thinking about him, and so he did the only thing that made sense to him. He decided to become his friend.

"Hey," he said, plopping down next to Malfoy at a planning brunch when the wedding was about six weeks out.

Malfoy looked around before looking back at Harry, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah," Harry said, popping a grape into his mouth.

His cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink before he said, "Ahm, hello, then."

"How are you?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked at him, "I'm fine. Are you concussed?"

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it, "No."

"Under a spell of some sort? Potion, perhaps?"

"No," he said, "Don't be ridiculous."

"Of the two of us, I am not the one behaving abnormally."

He sighed, "Look, I just," he trailed off not sure where that sentence was going, "I want to get to know you. It's weird and whatever but I'm just really curious about you, all the time."

"Ah, sixth year all over again," Malfoy said, taking a drink of his mimosa.

"No, nothing like that. I don't think you're up to anything sinister," Harry defended. "I'm just curious." Then he raised an eyebrow, "Admit it, you're curious about me, too."

"I'm no such thing."

"Come on," he said, nudging the other man with his elbow. "I've caught you looking at me almost as many times as you've caught me looking at you."

Malfoy huffed but the corner of his mouth tipped up, "Alright, fine. I'm a little curious. But don't let it go to your head."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

---------

After two weeks of being friends with Draco Malfoy, Harry basically wanted to spend every waking moment with him. Draco was dramatic and snarky, he had sharp sense of humor that often left Harry in stitches.

"So I told him," Draco said, recounting a tale from going shopping for dress robes for the wedding, "that white was for the bride."

Harry giggled, sipping his pint, "And?"

"He told me that Ginerva informed him that she'd be wearing a green dress."

He nodded, "We picked it the other day."

"And when I asked him why, he said it was because she wasn't a virgin but he is."

"Wait, really?" Harry asked, brow furrowing.

"You didn't know that Ginerva wasn't a virgin?"

His skin heated, "Err," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "not that. I knew that because that was..." he trailed off, clearing his throat, "My fault, actually."

Draco looked scandalized.

"Oh, don't give me that!" he said, shoving the other man's shoulder. "Everyone was a mess after the war. I was just surprised that Blaise isn't."

Draco flushed, "It's actually fairly common among pureblood circles to wait for marriage."

"Wait," Harry said, "Are you-" he started, then stopped himself, "Sorry, you don't have to answer that."

Draco straightened his shoulders, "So what if I am?" he asked defensively. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"No," Harry agreed hastily, "Nothing at all. Sorry. Just that infernal curiosity."

"Maybe it would have been different," Draco said softly, like a confession, "After the war. If there was someone that I'd been in love with, like you and Ginerva were."

He took another sip of his drink before replying, "Well, like I was, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head, "Nothing, I'm happy for her. Just," he trailed off, "It's going to sound awful."

"It's just me," Draco said softly.

Harry gave him a little smile, "There's no 'just you' about you."

He huffed, clearly not taking it the way Harry had meant it.

"She just moved on really fast, you know?" He shook his head, "One minute I think we're happy and in love, the next she's telling me that I'm not her soulmate and breaking it off without even a conversation."

"What kind of conversation were you hoping to have?" Draco asked curiously.

"Like if this soulmate lark was really that big of a deal. I mean isn't it possible that I could have made her just as happy?" he asked.

"It's not just about being happy," he said.

He sighed, "Fine, but couldn't I have loved her just as well?"

"Maybe," Draco said, "but soulmates are more than that. They're the one perfect compliment for your soul. Soulmates match in every conceivable way; it's not that they'll never fight or that everything is perfect, it's like," he trailed off, like he was trying to put something difficult into words. "When you can see the water and the sky meeting, like when they blend together so that you can't quite tell which is which and that's okay because they're made of the same thing."

"Do you know who your soulmate is?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head and took a sip of his drink, "I'm not sure people like me get to have one."

"People like you?" Harry asked.

He raised his left arm, "I already have a mark, maybe one is all I get."

"In that case," Harry said, tapping his scar, "Maybe one is all I get, too."

"It's not the same."

He shrugged a shoulder, "you didn't want yours anymore than I wanted mine." Draco was quiet for a minute so Harry bumped him with his shoulder, "If it does turn out to be the case, I'll grow old with you if you'll have me."

----------

In the last month leading up to the wedding, Harry and Draco were pretty much inseparable to the point where people started to ask if they were dating.

They weren't, of course, but it put the thought in Harry's head and he found that he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He watched Draco throughout the wedding, the way his eyes misted over as they were saying their vows, his huge genuine smile when they were officially wed, the wistfulness on his face when toasts were being made. Harry's heart felt like it was somersaulting in his chest.

After Blaise and Ginny had their first dance, people were invited to join them on the dance floor and Harry couldn't take his eyes off of the other man. "Draco?" he said and he genuinely couldn't remember ever being this nervous.

"Hmm?" the other man replied, watching with a little smile as Blaise spun Ginny.

"Will you dance with me?"

Draco's head whipped around to look at him so fast that Harry was worried about his neck. "What?"

He swallowed, "Would you dance with me?"

"Why would you ask me that?" Draco asked. "Are you making fun of me?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, look at pathetic Draco Malfoy, everyone!" he hissed. "No one will ever love him, but I'm Harry Potter and I take pity on all sorts of sad, pathetic creatures." Draco stood up and glared at Harry, "No, thanks. I'm not in need of rescuing today."

He stormed out and after a pause where Harry tried to figure out what had just happened, Harry chased after him.

Draco was making his way down the walkway, "Bloody stupid Manors with stupid anti-apparation wards."

"Draco!" Harry shouted.

"Stop!" Draco begged, turning to look at him. "Please. I know you're trying to be kind but it's tearing me to pieces."

Harry froze in place and held out his hands like he was trying to sooth a startled creature, "Listen to me. Please," he added. Draco didn't reply but he didn't move away either. "I'm not trying to be kind or take pity on you, or whatever," he said. "I genuinely wanted to dance with you."

"Pfft," Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"Because I like you," Harry confessed. "I thought that would have been obvious by now."

"You like me," Draco repeated incredulously like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

There was a pause as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts before he exploded, "Because you are Harry Potter!"

"And?" Harry asked, then he took another step toward him, "Draco, it's just me," he whispered, echoing the sentiment that Draco had said the last time they had an emotional conversation.

"There's no 'just you' about you," he murmured, shaking his head as a tear slipped down his cheek.

Harry reached out and brushed the tear away, "I really like you," he whispered.

"What if you're not my soulmate?" Draco breathed. "What if I let you dance with me, I let you kiss me but you're not the one for me? How can I-"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said fiercely. "We can just be together. Surely everyone doesn't find their soulmate."

"But won't you always wonder?"

"Won't you always wonder about us if we don't at least try?" Harry returned.

Draco bit his lip but then nodded. "Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me," he repeated. "I need to know. I can't possibly let myself get any more attached to you if I can't keep you."

Harry cupped his face with both hands and kissed him softly and the moment their lips touched, it felt like something was igniting deep in his soul, his body coming alive and humming at the touch.

Draco must have felt it too as his body surged against Harry's, his hands grasping Harry's waist and pulling him in tighter against his body.

When they broke off panting, Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, "Does kissing always feel like that?"

"No," Harry whispered, brushing his nose over Draco's.

Draco's thumb rubbed over Harry's hip, "I'm afraid to open my eyes," he confessed.

"It doesn't have to matter," Harry said.

"But it matters and we both know it."

Harry groaned and pulled back, "Okay. Where would it be?"

"Could be anywhere," Draco replied, looking at his hands and arms, "But it's most commonly on your hands or..." he trailed off as he pulled up his left sleeve, "arm," he whispered. "Harry."

Harry looked over at him and saw that flowers had bloomed across his forearm where his dark mark had been.

"Your scar," Draco gasped, trailing his fingers over Harry's forehead.

"What?" Harry asked.

A tear slid down Draco's cheek, "It's my constellation," he whispered.

Harry tugged him in close and pressed a kiss to his chin. "I guess you were right," he said.

"About what?"

"I guess we do only get one."

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

Day 66: Bond | Day 68: Rain

Okay, so I genuinely love the soulmates trope and it was super hard to write this as a ficlet! I needed more words! Anyway, this one might get fleshed out in the future (and I have a Soulmates chapter fic that's already halfway done). I don't feel like this is my best work but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway! xo

Related note: I wrote a second ficlet for this prompt. I imagine that the people who sent me the prompt were hoping for something along these lines, but here's what I might have written if this was a generated prompt. Day 67: Soulmate (Take 2)

[ushidoux]

What We Inherit  - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: Ushijima’s childhood has a greater effect on him than he lets on and you only just start to realize once you meet his parents. (~2.6k words)

Warnings: divorce discussion, angst with a soft ending, character study of a sort?, sfw

A/N: Ushijima needs more background so here’s me trying to grasp at straws for an understanding of his character.

---

Ushijima favors his mother, you realize suddenly.

Not favor in a preference sort of way - while you can tell he’s an attentive son (to the point that you are worried he is too much so, stiffer than usual and mildly anxious), you realize the reason why your gaze lingers a little too much on the details of her face and the way she walks when she rises out of her seat is because she is so much like him. Or rather, he is like her.

For some reason, this sudden recognition is groundbreaking.

After all, it’s odd to compare this small, unassuming woman to your boyfriend who frankly embodies strength, but the links of blood are there, and obviously so. You can see him in the same hazel eyes that seem to pierce through you, the smile that is soft and polite but restricted, and even the way she walks, back straight and shoulders squared in confidence but touched with a feminine grace.

When your eyes blink and reopen, he looks almost exactly like her.

“You took a long time to visit,” she admonishes him once he returns from storing away the fresh fruit he’d brought as gifts to sit beside you in the living room. Her tone is not exactly harsh but it’s not exactly teasing, and she doesn’t look at him while she speaks - she’s too focused on you. Before you can take the time to further dissect her sentence and decide if the tension you’re feeling in the air is imagined or not, she shifts gears.

“Is he good to you?” She asks you suddenly, her eyes that are his not leaving yours as she brings a cup of perfectly tepid tea to her lips.

It’s such a direct statement that you’re startled by it. It gets to the crux of your meeting without need for pleasantries; in fact, she hasn’t asked you anything past your name, and you wonder if it’s because she doesn’t care, if she plans to ask later or if Wakatoshi has told her all she needed to know about you. 

You immediately eke out a “Yes, of course,” however, because it’s true. He is good to you. He’s been nothing but good to you for the past couple of years, and even though you’ve only been dating officially for the past year, he’s promised you he will continue to be this way for as long as he lives. It’s almost irresponsible that he says something so definitively, but you trust him with all your heart.

She seems satisfied with this answer because she smiles and sets her teacup on the table with barely a sound. “I’m glad.”

Her smile is like his too, you take note. When you turn to glance at Wakatoshi, he too is smiling down at you, filled to the brim with pride and affection. 

---

The Ushijima family home had started off intimidating but had become warm, much like him, as time passed. That ease began with his mother relaxing out of a kneeling position into a seating position and finally asking you about yourself. 

It turns out Wakatoshi had spoken to her about you, although some of her details were incorrect, and for with every clarification you ended up making, you could see his ears grow pinker and pinker by the second.

His mother, of course, didn’t notice, her eyes growing wide and nodding intently as you gave her more and more details about your life as though she were hearing things for the first time. 

“I told you all these things, Mother,” he finally intercepted when he’d felt that the constant barrage of questions had started to overwhelm you, although it seemed he was the one being overwhelmed by the exchange between you two. 

You gave him a glance in surprise, as did she, and then she nodded, folding her hands together, the stiffness and extreme formality returning slightly to her demeanor. It made you a little upset, the way she seemed to retreat back into her shell, and you pouted ever so slightly at him.

Picking up on your pout, his mother finally teased, “Wakatoshi-kun’s always been serious like that, ever since he was a child.”

It was a bit ironic to see this very poised woman also call her son ‘serious’, but you smiled weakly in response, reaching over to hold his hand. 

There you noticed again that he was stiff even if his face was unreadable as always. For a split second, you wondered if there was a flash of resentment you saw in his features, but you decided that that too, you had imagined.

“I suppose I can show you some childhood photos. That’s what’s normally done at meetings like this, is that not so?” 

Without waiting for an answer, she rose and whisked out of the room, leaving you and Toshi to each other. 

Once she was out of earshot, you squeezed his hand tightly. 

“She’s very nice, Toshi, you should have brought me sooner,” you whispered with a soft playful pat on his shoulder. He didn’t offer much but a soft hmph in response, so instead you scanned the room, taking in the sparse decorations in the living room.

Most of the decor was traditional and minimalistic and separating from Wakatoshi, you gravitated towards a display case in the corner. As expected, trophies and ribbons from his matches were proudly shown here along with other trinkets and knick-knacks.

What surprised you was a picture slightly tucked away in the corner of Wakatoshi, much smaller, smiling and clearly as carefree as any well-affirmed child would be, resting comfortably on the shoulders of a then-young man with a matching grin. Next to them was his mother, also younger, her hair loose and flowing, unlike the semi-neat bun she wore today, and just as genuinely happy as they were. Her arms wrapped affectionately around the man you presumed to be Ushijima’s father, and her eyes were almost closed, squinting cheerfully in the bright sun.

They looked so happy, you remarked. Even if it was in the past, it was a nice memory to be brought to the forefront, not something to be stashed away.

Unconsciously you reached for it for a closer look, not realizing your boyfriend was behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I found the album,” His mother announced, peeling your attention away from the snapshot in time. You still had the picture in your hands when you quickly went back to sit, and jokingly, you pointed out:

“I think I found a good one already!”

His mother took one glance and for a split second, you could see her placid demeanor break, but then she let out a soft chuckle without further comment, instead opening the heavy photo album to gush about her perfect son.

---

The short-lived shaken expression on once-Mrs. Ushijima’s face haunted you longer than you expected, and you found that you were still thinking about it long after you had left the home and were back home with your lover.

“Toshi,” you finally ventured to ask, now under the cover of night as you lay in bed together just moments before sleeping. He moved ever so slightly, his heavy arm shifting from draped over your shoulder to over your midsection to make it easier for you to turn to face him, which you did promptly in the dark. “Did your mother ever consider getting remarried?”

“I don’t think so.”

You paused, carefully choosing your next words. You wanted to ask him if what you’re sensing, he’s sensed, this very small bit of remorse that you picked up. Maybe it was too much to assume, so instead you end up saying nothing. 

He picked up on your need to say more and interlaced his fingers with yours, pulling your arm up so that he could press the back of your hand to his lips.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not upset about them, not at all. Besides, step-siblings might have made things complicated.”

What you wanted to ask was, does your mother regret it? 

---

A year and a half later, in sunny California, you’re seated side-by-side with your Toshi and before you is a smiling man who looks every bit as cheerful as the man who carried his son on his shoulders in that single image burned in your memory.

Again, you realize Ushijima favors his father.

Admittedly, not as much as his mother, but you still see him in the broadness of his hands, the animated and focused way in which he talks about work, in the way he listens intently to your every word, although his eyes aren’t as sharp as Ushijima and his mother’s - they’re soft, round and brown and they’re surrounded by the beginnings of crow’s feet. 

Ushijima is noticeably more relaxed around his father, you note, but the same bit of tension fills the warm air when Mr. Utsui asks you when the wedding is.

“We haven’t decided yet,” he cuts in, speaking for you now even though you had reached a steady pattern of conversation with his father. You’re a little bit annoyed at the curt way he interjects, but especially at the fact that he does this, when you’ve been not so subtly talking about marriage for a couple months now.

In fact, it’s when you shift from talking about your future together in grand terms (let’s buy a house, let’s have three kids, maybe a dog) and instead specifically bringing up when to be wed that you realize he cares more about his parents’ failed marriage then he lets on.

A ring didn’t stop them from separating, he insists. To you, it sounds initially like I don’t know if I want to marry you, but you know in the depth of your heart that he would choose you over himself any day. 

But the concept of marriage itself bothers him and while you sympathize with him, it’s hard for you to let go of the idea of a ring, a pretty white dress, and taking his name. 

It’s with that same premise that he’s visibly irritated by his father’s abrupt joke, and you and Mr. Utsui are both taken aback when you see the visibly irritated expression on his face, but his dad laughs loudly to defuse the situation.

“Jumping the gun there, aren’t I?” he says, reaching across the table to affectionately pat his son’s shoulder. “You just look so comfortable together! In fact, it reminds me of your mother and I back in the day.” 

The statement meant to palliate him makes the situation all the more precarious.

Really, it’s careless the way his father says it so easily, and you can see the comment has hit something deep inside your Toshi by the very slight tension you see in his jaw and the way his eyes narrow. It’s as though, in a single sentence, his father has both denied his childhood pains and plainly uttered a curse onto your relationship, and Wakatoshi won’t allow it.

“Please refrain from comparing us to the two of you in any way from now on.”

His words are controlled, precise and seething, and you wince reflexively. The sugary sweet, half-eaten stack of pancakes in front of you no longer seems appetizing, but you pick off a blueberry with your fork and eat it to give you something to do while your heart pounds.

What will his father say in his defense?

“You’re right,” Takashi says - he wants you to call him by his first name because you are important to his son - with an understanding nod, his eyes still kind despite the fact that his son’s look is almost menacing, even if he doesn’t intend to be.

“You’re not at all like us.”

---

In the quiet aftermath of the tense brunch date, you finally decided to give up on the idea of a wedding. 

You could argue that there was always therapy, but you weren’t sure to what extent the old wounds inflicted so early and so neatly tucked away could be healed with talk and introspection. No longer were they simply wounds but reminders of the following:

Marriages fail. Love doesn’t always last.

You inched a little closer to him as you walked together on the beach through the night, unsure if your increased need for closeness was related to the chill of the small breeze picking up from the waves or because you were starting to wonder if Ushijima’s father was wrong. 

What if you were the same? What if you did end up like them? Thousands of miles apart, with uncomfortable painful memories of each other and a son who repressed his resentment… There was no way to know, was there?

You stopped suddenly, your heels digging into the sand as you broke the pregnant silence between you two.

“Toshi,” you murmured softly. Still holding your hand, he turned to face you, his eyebrows just slightly raised as he watched you in the moonlight. 

“I won’t talk about marriage anymore. I get it now,” you finally decided, your voice wavering ever so slightly unlike your steadfast resolve.

He looked into your eyes, again trying to parse out what you were feeling from the slight knit in your eyebrows and the very slight tremor in your hands.

“It’s cold,” he replied simply, taking off his hoodie and putting it around you. “Here.”

You frowned as you pushed your arms through the sleeves, your hands curling into tight fists. If you were going to bend like this, he should at least acknowledge you!

“It’s still important to me, and I think we would be different, but I understand your feelings,” you insisted, staying in place.

He had to give you something, anything. It wasn’t selfish to ask for a little bit of credit, was it?

You saw him flash a small smile, then lean over to give you a kiss on the cheek. Before pulling back, he let out a small laugh, the first since hours earlier.

“You don’t want to get married anymore, sweetheart?” He teased, his arms rubbing up and down your shoulders, and your frown grew deeper. This was an odd time for one of his jokes.

“I’m being serious!” Your voice came out whinier than expected, to the point that you were almost embarrassed, but it only made his smile grow wider.

His hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face, making sure that all you could see was him, speaking sincerely to you under the night sky.

“That’s too bad because I bought a ring.”

Your heart stopped.

But then it restarted, and instead of shivers, a new warmth seemed to run throughout your entire body with every new beat in your chest.

“W-what?”

“I want to marry you.”

I want to marry you. The words seemed to bounce around your now empty head, making a ruckus you couldn’t exactly think through.

“But you said…?”

“I don’t need a ring to prove that I’ll love you forever, but if it’s important to you, I’ll work hard and buy you a ring for every single year we are together.”

He must have picked up the habit of saying careless and deliberate statements from his father because you were now choked up with tears that you couldn’t wipe away because your hands were too busy resting on his that held your emotional visage.

“T-Toshi…”

“We’ll be different from my parents, ____,  I swear.”

You felt as though your heart would burst, so all you could do was nod. It didn’t help that his eyes seemed to shine far too much tonight as well. Was it just a trick of the moon or was he trying to convince himself too that he wouldn’t do you wrong?

“It’s true that I don’t have the ring on me, but I want to formally ask you today before I dare put a ring on your finger,

Will you marry me?”

Again you nodded, tears finally rolling down your cheeks in relief, because the answer had always been yes.

And you knew for sure, that the two of you would fight like hell to be happily married after.

[randomrosewrites]

Could you do an Albedo x reader where the reader is Klee's actual older sibling?

a/n: This idea is really cute and I kinda got ahead of myself and it's almost 3 pages lol

Life and Love

Pairing: Albedo x GN reader Tags: Fluff, domestic life, shyness, Klee being adorable as always

Albedo is first introduced to you from Alice when he first arrives in Mondstat. Though he doesn’t learn much from you, as Klee’s the one that bombards him with questions and chats excitedly with him.

Being her older sibling, you share some physical traits with Klee, like her pointed ears. Though the two of you couldn’t be more different in terms of personality.

While Klee runs around, full of energy, you’re always following behind her, carefully watching to make sure that she doesn’t hurt herself or others.

Albedo doesn’t see much of you initially, he’s always busy in his lab or up on the mountains. Though he does drop by your house as a common courtesy, or when he walks Klee home after a long day.

One day, he’s on Dragonspine, deep into an experiment when he hears a familiar cry. He turns around and makes out two figures in the snow.

“Hello Mister Albedo!” Klee waves at him. She runs forward and jumps into his arms, making him stumble backward. He shifts his arms to hold her better.

“What are you doing here, Klee?”

“We came to see you here!” she exclaims, cheeks red with the cold. “I wanted to see you so bad.”

“She wouldn’t stop asking to come until I brought her,” you sigh, brushing the snow from your coat. “So here we are.”

Albedo sets Klee down by the fire. “I see. Well, can I get you anything to drink? I’m sure it was a cold trip.”

“Ooh, I want hot coco!” Klee chips.

Klee drinks her coco then promptly falls asleep, curled up against your side, tiny hands grabbing onto your coat. It’s here that you and Albedo have your first real conversion. A bit rocky and awkward, but the more you talk, the more you begin to warm up to each other.

In the following weeks, your trips to the mountain or to his lab are more frequent. Klee is always eager to see him, sometimes bringing gifts of crayoned drawings or fresh fish (totally not ones she blasted with her pyro bombs). Albedo always accepts them gratefully, cooking up Sunshrine Sprat for you to take home and hanging up the drawings on his wall. It’s a warm welcome to his life.

Sometimes, on the odd occasion that he’s stuck, you’re more than willing to listen to him talk through his experiment and give your opinion. Even if you know next to nothing about what he’s doing, Albedo appreciates that he can talk with you.

Romantic feelings creep up on Albedo slowly over time. He finds himself wishing for you and Klee to visit him more often, he gifts you warming bottles and bioluminescent crystalfly cores to keep you warm at night, he clears a chair and a small stool to make things more comfortable for you and Klee when you come to visit.

Even then, he’s not aware of his own feelings until Kaeya jokingly teases him for his ‘uncharacteristic fascination’ in you. Which makes him consider the weight of his feelings.

He’s not really sure what to make of it. His relationship with you and Klee is very precious to him, he doesn’t want to ruin it by overstepping any boundaries.

So, for the most part, his feelings remain buried, only showing themselves in small ways. Albedo and Klee will gather your favourite flowers and then surprise you with them. Albedo asks Klee what drinks you like, then always makes sure that he has a supply in his lab.

Inevitably, Klee’s the one that lets it slip that Albedo’s feelings might be a bit more than platonic.

“Are you here to help Mister Albedo Draw?” Klee asks when you enter his lab one day. Crayoned drawings are scattered across the table, mixed in with official reports written in Albedo’s neat script.

Albedo, working on an experiment, freezes as if he’s been hit with a cryo attack. You raise a brow, confused. “What are you talking about, Klee?”

“His sketchbooks are full of pictures of you! I saw him trying to hide them when I came in but I saw them!”

Across the room, Albedo’s ears turn bright red. Your stomach flutters and your heart races.

Does he? Albedo only draws things that pique his interest. While he’s shown you some of his drawings of Sucrose or Klee, you’ve never heard anything about drawings of you.

You clear your throat. “You weren’t snooping again, were you?”

“Nuh-uh!” she protests. “I’ve been a good girl, promise!” she looks between you and Albedo, frowning. “...Did I say something wrong?”

You pat her head, ruffling her hat. “No sweetie, you’re fine. I came by to tell you that Mister Kaeya’s taking a trip to Starfell lake. Wanna join him?”

Klee’s eyes light up. “Yes!” She hops off her stool, stuffing drawings and crayons into her bag as she goes. Klee gives you a hug before racing to the door.

“I’ll be back before supper. Bye! Bye bye Mr. Albedo!”

“Goodbye Klee, stay safe,” the alchemist says.

She races out of the room, shutting the door a bit too hard. Some of the bottles in the shelves rattle. The tension in the laboratory is suffocating. Neither of you dare to look each other in the eye.

“So, you draw me?” you begin.

Albedo pauses and inhales sharply. “Yes. I apologize if that makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if that’s what you want.”

“No it’s...fine. I’m surprised, but I don’t mind.”

Albedo turns to look at you, head tilted slightly. “Why would you be surprised, you’re a beautiful person.”

His confession, pure and honest, has you at a loss for words. “I just...didn’t think I was that interesting to you.”

Albedo’s gaze turns from soft to alluring. “You’re very interesting to me, Y/N.”

Even though you both have your suspicions about the other’s romantic interest, it goes unspoken until a few more weeks go by. It’s almost comical how natural the transition feels, when Albedo suddenly asks if you’d allow him to court you.

You nearly drop the book you’re holding and stare at Albedo as if he’s sprouted a second head. “What did you just say?”

Albedo’s face is blank as he repeats himself. “I said, would you like to be courted next week?”

“...Albedo, are you trying to ask me out?”

“Yes...did I say something wrong? I’m not really used to Mondstadt romance customs…”

A smile spreads across your face and you can’t help the laugh that exits your throat. “No one says it like that. Who told you that’s how you ask someone out? Kaeya?”

The blush on his cheeks is all the answer you need.

Needless to say, you accept. The shift from platonic to romantic with him isn’t all that different from how things normally are.

Albedo’s not really one for hard labels or tradition. He doesn’t feel the need to outwardly say the two of you are dating, or even call your relationship ‘dating’ either. He’s romantically interested in you. You’re romantically interested in him. That’s all there is to it.

You do make a point to tell Klee, among other people close to you, and it goes rather smoothly.

“Hey Klee.”

“Mhm?”

“Me and Mister Albedo like each other. Kiss on the lips like each other.”

“Oh wow! Does that mean he’s my big brother?”

She’s very sweet and happy about it, even if she’s not too sure what people in romantic relationships do.

Dates are odd. Half the time they’re crashed by Klee, who insists on joining in whenever the two of you have ‘playdates’. Albedo’s schedule also makes it hard for anything formal to happen.

Affection is also tough. Albedo’s not one for PDA in the slightest, but anything behind the doors of his lab is fair game. Kisses, hugs, cuddles, etc.

...the only problem is that there’s been numerous times where Klee has barged in suddenly, making the two of you jump away from each other, embarrassed.

It’s never something that bothers you or Albedo, just frustrating. But Klee makes it hard for you to remain that way when she acts so cute, telling you about the latest thing Kaeya told her.

Whenever you do want some alone time, you hand her off to Kaeya, who makes sure to keep her entertained while you and Abledo get some alone time. (He returns Klee later on with his hair braided poorly and a bunch of hairpins stuck in it.)

Sometimes, when the weather is nice, all three of you go to starsnatch cliff and have a picnic. Klee chases the dandelions in the wind while you and Albedo watch her from the blanket, fingers interlaced together.

And on those clear-blue days, where the wind blows through your hair gently, drying the paint on Albedo’s paintings, you feel nothing in your heart but love.

It’s perfect, a small slice of Celestia for the three of you as a family.

[oh-katsuki]

Payback: Part 2 (Armin x Reader x Mikasa)

Pairing: Armin x Reader x Mikasa

Content: Mentions of sex, vulgar language, allusions to voyeurism / exhibitionism

TW: None

A/N: No smut in this one.  Archive Fic

Part 1 | Part 3

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to fuck your best guy friend in a closet while your friends played 7 minutes in heaven in another, but it wasn’t your fault, especially when Armin looked so good with your fingers in his hair. However, you could have gone without Mikasa walking in while he’s balls deep.

She stood in the doorway, eyes wide at the sight in front of her. Mikasa had always liked you, ever since she’d met you. She liked the way you walked and the way you talked and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love the way you looked. Mikasa thought she knew you pretty well and she knew that you had someone you were hooking up with. What she didn’t know was that it was Armin, and walking in on him railing you was the last thing she’d expect to happen. She had no clue how to react, that is until your embarrassed cry rang out through the room.

“Oh my god!” You pushed on Armin’s chest, your arms flying up to cover your chest as he stopped pumping into you. He turned his head, his eyes widening as he met Mikasa’s gaze.

“Mikasa, you find the cups?” You could hear Jean’s voice growing closer as he made his way to the closet. Getting caught by Jean was the absolute last thing you wanted in this situation and you brought your finger to your lip, urging her to keep quiet about what she’d just seen.

Ripped from her trance, Mikasa tore her eyes away from you and stumbled slightly over her words before leaving the room, beginning to pull the handle shut.

“Uhm, nope. Not here.” She tossed one more look back into the closet before closing the door.

What the fuck was she supposed to do? She could tell that her gaze had lingered on you too long, she could tell that you’d noticed the way her eyes lingered on your glistening cunt. As she walked away from the door, she could feel her arousal pool low in her core and she couldn’t help but think of how fucked over she’d be if you found out.

—–

The next few days, you couldn’t manage to catch Mikasa alone. It was like she’d been avoiding you and had stopped frequenting the places where she usually hangs out. Shit, you couldn’t even catch her eye when you were in a group together.

You could understand why things might be awkward, you really could. Who wants to walk in to see two of their childhood best friends fucking? However, it was no secret that you had a sex partner and Mikasa knew that you didn’t date, not officially at least. She just didn’t know it was Armin of all people and she certainly didn’t expect to be into it.

As a rule, you liked to have one exclusive hookup partner whose company you could enjoy without feelings. Mikasa understood this, but that doesn’t mean it softened the blow. Besides, you couldn’t pretend that you hadn’t noticed the way her eyes lingered on you that night.

Mikasa was hot. Shit, you have to admit that you’d imagined what she’d look like squirming under you while you slipped your hands under the waistband of your pants and teased yourself, but that doesn’t mean you’d act on it. Not right now at least, especially since you had your thing with Armin. So you had to find her, explain to her that what you and Armin have isn’t emotional and should be kept a complete secret.

—-

You’d finally done it. It took a week but you’d finally ended up in a room alone with her, the two of you sitting on your dorm room bed because the rest of the group had decided to run out and grab drinks from the vending machines by the dining hall. Mikasa didn’t miss the encouraging wink Armin gave you as he left with them.

“Hey.” You spoke first, taking initiative in the conversation before it had the chance to get away from you.

“Hi.” Fuck. This was awkward. How were you supposed to get over this? It was right about now you found yourself wishing that Armin had done this instead of you.

“Look, about what you saw at the kickback last weekend…” Your gaze met her own and your hand reached up to rub the back of your neck.

“You don’t need to explain yourself, it’s okay,” Mikasa spoke, giving an awkward chuckle. You could tell how her back stiffened and Mikasa prayed you didn’t see the way she instinctively rubbed her thighs together remembering the thought.

She felt so perverted. Mikasa had been avoiding you on purpose because she hadn’t been able to get the sight out of her head. Why had you looked so good that night pressed up against the wall, your head thrown back and a cry caught in your throat? Honestly, Mikasa thought she’d lose her mind with that memory ingrained in her head. What made it worse though was that this fantasy she’d constructed was made better by the fact that Armin was there. Sure, Mikasa had always found Armin attractive but after seeing that she couldn’t deny that she wanted him, no, she wanted both of you.

“No, no, M. I really feel like I need to explain myself, I mean that’s… so fucking awkward.” You laughed, dropping your hand from your neck. Admitting the awkwardness of the situation seemed to relieve the tension that had settled over the room. Mikasa gave a short laugh, her cheeks turning pink at the nickname.

“Look, Armin and I have been hooking up with each other. We’re like… mutually exclusive hookup partners, I guess?” You paused when you saw her quirk her brow in confusion, immediately jumping into the next part of your sentence as you assume what she’s going to say. “But don’t worry, it’s not like we have any feelings for each other or some shit! It’s uh- well, it’s just sex.”

Mikasa stayed quiet for a second before she tilted her head to the side and parted her pretty lips to speak. “I don’t… I don’t think Armin knows you’re exclusive.”

That… was not the reply you were expecting to hear. Mikasa must have picked up on your confusion because she spoke up once again.

“I mean he probably just didn’t know but, he’s been… sleeping with other people.” Oh. Well, that certainly breaks your rule about one partner.

It’s not that this bothers you emotionally, but you have this rule for a reason. It’s a hassle to deal with STD tests and worrying about all that shit when instead you could just have one regular and exclusive hookup partner. You were certain that Armin misunderstood, that he meant no harm because even though the man had a dick game for the gods, his “picking up on social cues” game was weaker than average. But sure, you were a little jealous, a little angry that he’d do that shit without asking, it made you vengeful. It made you want to get back at him.

Mikasa’s gaze lingered on you, searching for your response. She couldn’t read you, but the way your eyebrows furrowed had her thinking that you may be up to something. You definitely were, you were thinking about what you could do about this. Sure, it made you mad, maybe even a little hurt, and you were completely fixated on the idea of payback.

Meanwhile, Mikasa studied your side profile and the curve of your lips. Her eyes trailed down your neck and collarbone, over your breasts, and down the rest of your body. Fuck, you drove her crazy. She knew you had a lot of experience with both men and women, you just had that air of confidence about you that screamed “sexually experienced”. Mikasa was no blushing virgin herself, but she couldn’t shake the thought of the way you’d teach her. Your experienced hands running over her body and the way your tongue would roll against her. The thought had her rubbing her legs together to relieve the dull ache that was building.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel it too. You didn’t miss the way she rubbed her thighs together, the plush fat widening slightly as she shifted pressure. Mikasa had always been hot, but this was the first time you found yourself genuinely considering hooking up with her. You wondered how those thighs would look around your face and how the skin would feel under your fingertips. She seemed so submissive like she’d be such a good listener. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be good for you. Then Armin popped into your head. Fuck, you wanted them both at once.

That’s when it came to you and, without wasting any time, you leaned forward and whispered a sinful idea into Mikasa’s ear.

[sunshineandbnha]

After All These Years - Denki x reader (Denki birthday special)

Word count: 2,355 Warnings: not edited A/N: I really did try to get this out on his birthday, but now it’s 8 minutes too late. It’s kinda rushed, but I really like this idea. Hope you like it.

~

"It's almost our third year in UA."

"I know, crazy right." Kaminari laid back in the grass. His hands were folded behind his head.

The wind combed through your hair. It was a nice day and you both agreed to meet at the park.

"You know, back when I applied to UA, I thought I'd have a girlfriend by now."

"Yeah." You absent mindedly nodded.

"I know! If we're still single when we're thirty, we'll marry each other!" 

You laughed, not taking his suggestion seriously. "Well, I would want to date someone before I marry them. Besides, how do you know I won't become a hobo by then." you said jokingly.

He let out a sigh. His gaze drifting down to his side. "I just don't want to be alone." 

You paused before rolling your eyes a little, but you decided not to tease him about it. You jokingly agreed, "Yeah. Sure."

~

It was your first day off in a while, and you took this precious time to sort through the growing mess in your room. Picking up each individual item and trying to figure out what to do with it. You came across an old photo. The frame around it was a nice wooden brown, though it was clear from touching it that it was just plastic. It had collected some dust

It was a photo of you with your friends while you were still in highschool. Among them was Kaminari. You smiled as you sat back on the one area of your bed that wasn't cluttered from cleaning. It had been years since then.

Wait.

"Shoot!" You stood, "It was his birthday today wasn't it?"

You quickly walked out of your room to find your phone. Both to check the date and to text him if it was. You were in the process of searching for it when a knock at the door interrupted you. You didn’t recall anyone saying they were coming over. You carefully walked up to the door.

"It's me, Denki."

You opened up the door to the smiling blond on the other side. 

“It’s my birthday! Miss me?”

"Hey! Not that I'm upset, but what are you doing here?"

"I thought I texted you that I was coming over?" He said.

With an eyebrow quirked, you found your phone after a minute of searching and checked.

"Oops. Sorry, I had it on silent."

“No problem.” He bounced on his toes. “It’s been a while since we saw each other in person. Like, a month or so?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Wait a second, that was in winter.”

His eyes widened. “Oh! Right! Yeah, it was cold that day. So, ouch, five months ago.”

“Good for catching up. Sorry, I completely forgot it was your birthday. I swear I had just remembered and was about to text you before you knocked.”

“It’s all good.”

You nodded and fell into an awkward silence. Both wanting to talk about something, but having no idea where to start.

Kaminari smiled. “So, thirty, right? Back in U.A. I almost thought I’d never get this far.”

“Yeah.” You laughed. “We’re getting old.”

“I know,” he nervously nodded. “So are we gonna date now?”

“Excuse me?”

“Remember about fourteen years ago when we said if we didn’t find anyone by now, we’d start dating?”

“Holy- we’ve been friends that long?” You shook your head. “But, I did? I don’t remember... well, I guess I kinda remember that now that you mention it?”

“Oops, I guess it was a while ago.” His head sunk into his shoulders and looked to his side with a nervous grin. “But… wanna try?”

You bit the inside of your lip and looked up. Well, considering this was your day off, you didn’t have much better to do. Of course, there was the clutter in your bedroom, but you were also subconsciously keen on looking for an excuse not to do it. Plus, you really didn’t have a problem with going on one date with him. And…

"Fine. We'll go on a date and see how we feel by the end of it."

His golden eyes lit up and his smile grew the biggest you'd seen it in a long time.

You loved to see him happy.

"But, I have one condition," you had said, "it can't get out to the media."

The media and citizens loved to meddle in pro heroes' love life. Simply going to a café together would get you on trending pages for the next week. And though you never experienced this, you've seen how stressful it could be. Lord knew how much hate Shouto's girlfriend received from his fangirls when a camera first caught them. There was even a rumor about reporters going to her apartment when someone found out which complex she lived in.

Of course, you didn't know her or Shouto personally. It happened around five years ago, and you didn’t even know if they were still together. But it was enough to convince you to try not to get caught up in that kind of drama if you could help it.

"This mask is kinda stuffy," Kaminari tugged at the black mask on his face.

You walked by his side on the sidewalk. The air felt still and hot. But at least the night prevented it from getting any warmer. The temperature actually felt comfortable if you were sitting.

"Sorry. I just don't want someone to see us together and blow it out of proportion. Especially since we don't know how we feel about this yet."

"True. But it's so hard," he whined.

"Hopefully you didn't pick a restaurant to go to."

"I actually didn't. I hope you'll really like it."

It all felt so strange, because it didn't feel odd. You were both talking and hanging out like you usually would. The only difference now was that there was the official title of "date" going along with it.  You both spent a lot of time together like that when you were still high schoolers. He actually asked you out a few times, but you always said no and insisted on being just friends.

Though just a few months before graduating, you started to develop feelings for him. You ignored it. You knew he didn't feel the same. It hurt to see him asking other people out at that time, but it was fine. It hurt, but you knew your silly feelings meant nothing and you liked being friends with him.

You past shops, getting closer to the park.

Initially after graduating, you didn't see each other very much. You were both busy and it put strain on your friendship, or maybe just you. It was because you wanted to talk to him, you really did, but you had other, more pressing, things you needed to do. It was around that time, when you weren’t constantly seeing him for the first time in a few years, that you realized how much you relied on him, despite you being the one to remind him of homework and keep him out of trouble.

You wandered into the park. Kaminari took your hand and led you off the path and towards the pond.. You tilted your head in confusion, but followed. He stopped by the water next to a cherry blossom tree, though by now the pink petals were gone and replaced by glossy green leaves.

He stared out onto the water, you did the same. The night seemed so much more still here. The sky was a beautiful black with flecks of diamonds that reflected off of the water.

You almost forgot you were still holding hands.

"I've always wanted to take someone special to me here on a date." He smiled. "But I've never gotten to before."

"So, I'm the first?" Out of all everyone, were you really the only one to get to see this with him.

"Yep."

You thought for a second. "What about Natalie?"

He gave a small laugh, but one that was filled with some sort of bittersweet emotion. Sadness? Longing? None of those were really the right word. Maybe if there was a word that meant "remembering a happy what-could-have-been".

"Yeah. Natalie was amazing, but by the time I was comfortable enough to take her here our schedules didn't allow it."

You picked at your memory. "She was born in America, right?"

"Yeah, but she couldn't remember it since her family moved to Japan when she was three."

You nodded, then your eyes drifted downwards. "Sucks she had to move to Paris for her career."

"Yeah. But that’s in the past. I hope she's doing good right now. I bet she has awesome clothing lines out now." He stared up in the sky.

The tension was way too thick for you right now. You playfully bumped his arm. "Admit it, you liked her because she could draw."

"Yeah! Her drawings were amazing!" his eyes lit up and had a distant look, like he was remembering them. Then he paused "Waiiiiit, are you saying mine aren't good?"

"What? No, no!" 

You burst out laughing and he did the same. It rang out across the water and in the night air, where everyone could hear, but you didn't care. It felt like your own tiny world.

"You know," you started. "Back when you said that whole 'if we're thirty and single' thing, I thought you were joking. You know,” you said before he could respond, “Back in the last year of U.A. I actually did start to have feelings for you.”

“What?!” he jumped back in surprise. "You liked me? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because you didn’t feel the same.” 

“True,” he said in a quiet voice, “But I did earlier, you were just a year too late. I mean, since then I mostly saw you as a friend, but another part of me wondered what it would be like if we did date.”

You hummed and nodded. “But for me, it took me forever to get rid of those feelings. A part of me almost didn’t want to do this because then that time would be wasted.” Especially when it hurt so much and took so long.

He glanced at you, but didn’t say anything. You didn’t blame him. If you were him you wouldn’t be able to find any words for what you just said too.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

A silence fell on you.

He bit his lip. "So, I guess you're my friend, a really close one, but at the same time I also see you as something more. If that makes any sense." 

You nodded. "Yeah, I think it does." 

"So, you actually, really, like me, at least at some point?" He said slowly.

"Yes. Stop asking. This is really embarrassing." You covered your face with your hands.

"Hey! Don't cover your face!" 

He fought to get his fingers around your wrists to pull them apart. You did your best to keep them in place, hands shaking in effort, but he was stronger. You angled your face away in a futile attempt to prevent him from seeing it, but all with a smile on your face.

He put his finger under your chin and turned your head toward him. He was already smiling. The small amount of light coming from the city reflected in his eyes. But then his features softened. He leaned in ever so slightly.

"Gosh, you're beautiful." 

You could feel his breath fanning your face as he whispered. You felt yourself being pulled closer to him, as if some magic force moved you, and your lips met. The moment they touched, you felt a tingle, not quite like electricity, but there was no other way to describe it. You felt yourself relax. Muscles you didn’t even know were wound up went slack. You found your hand reaching to the back of his neck and gliding up into his hair. His arm snaked around your waist to hold you closer.

It was like your forgotten dreams were coming back to life, stronger and more vivid. You felt walls you built crumbling down before him as you melted into the kiss and the moment. And for that moment, you were the only ones in the world.

Then that moment ended. You suddenly squinted from a sudden flash of light.

The kiss broke from your mutual confusion. You blinked hard and looked to see where it came from. What you found was a guy, who appeared to be in his twenties, though it was hard to tell in the light. And in both his hands, he held a phone, ready to take a picture.

Oh, this was NOT happening.

You stomped up to him. The look of fear on his face was comical. It was hard to tell, but you think he turned pale.

“Delete that right. Now!”

He frantically nodded, fumbling with his phone. You stood over him, staring at his phone to make sure he deleted it and didn’t upload it to the internet. As you did so, Kaminari walked beside you and bumped you with his elbow.

“Still shy?” he whispered.

You pouted, eyes turning down slightly. You waited for the guy to be done. After inspecting his recent photos to make sure he did, you gave his phone back. He apologized before running away.

“I just don’t want anyone to know for now. It's just... this is personal for me. Just... give me time, okay?" you said.

"I've been waiting forever to be with you. I'm pretty sure I can wait to tell my friends about it." He wrapped his arm around you.

It was a beautiful night. The still water glistening. The trees decorating the horizon. The stars shining above you, witnessing the event. Crickets applauded you. Aside from that, the world was quiet, as if respecting this special moment 

.

.

.

"But seriously. Don't tell your friends about it, okay?" 

"Okay. Okay. I won't. I promise."

"That's what you said with the pop tart incident!" 

"Okay then, I pinky promise. On our love... and friendship! Alright?" 

"Alright."

[inkandpen22]

Somewhere (1/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader  

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Series Summary: Based in the early summer of ‘78, tonight Y/N is celebrating her 18th birthday. Her protective older brother and their friends take her out dancing. She envisions the perfect night! 

A/N: In this story, muggles are aware of the wizard world. The series is based on West Side Story and POV switches between Sirius and Y/N. The red dress is based of the Saturday Night Fever red dress btw lol 

Masterlist

Reader

While business slows down in the boutique, I hurry along on finishing last-minute tasks before the weekend. The goal is to get all of these orders done before closing. 

“Hey, Lauren?” I shout for my best friend as she finishes stocking up the backroom for the weekend. 

“Yeah?” She calls distantly. 

“Could you bring me two of those navy cardigans when you come back out?” I recite, looking over the shipment list in front of me. 

“Sure thing!” She complies. 

Today is my eighteenth birthday. To celebrate, my older brother, Brady, is taking me out to the disco with our friends. It’ll be the first time I can go out to a club and drink. That’s not the most exciting part of today either! I’m officially an adult, a functioning, independent, member of society. My brother and his friends will no longer see me as the youngest who’s in constant need of looking-after. Brady has always been overprotective, but Lauren has tried to help convince him that I can take care of myself. Lauren and Brady have been dating since they were in high school, almost five years now. They’ve graduated from college and Lauren is eager to be married. In my opinion, it’s only a matter of time. I can’t see either of them with anyone else. Plus, I already consider Lauren my sister. 

Lauren appears out from the backroom with a bright grin as she joins me at the register counter. “So, are you excited?” 

“Yes! It’s going to be so much fun!” I gush, practically bursting. “Finally after four years of watching you guys go out with me, I can join!” 

She gives me a knowing look, “did you ever end up showing your brother that dress you picked out?” 

I bite down on my lip, pretending to return my attention to the order sheets in front of me. I can already hear her reprimanding, Brady’s too when he sees the bright red off the shoulder dress I picked up yesterday from the shop down the street. The fact that it’s off the shoulder will go over like a led balloon. 

Lauren’s jaw drops, “Y/N!” 

“I know, I know,” I sigh, trying my best to avoid a lecture. Moving around to the other side of the counter, I head to the office with the order sheets. 

Lauren follows on my heels, “he’s never going to let you go, especially if you step out of your room in that dress and those matching heels you bought!” 

“But it’s my birthday!” I plead, turning to face her with puppy-dog eyes. “My eighteenth, the most important one! It’s my first night as an adult.” 

Lauren sighs defeatedly and I continue to express a poor, pitiful, pout. I can tell she’s on my side, but she also doesn’t want to go against her boyfriend. I understand her predicament, yet then again, my brother can be unreasonable too. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” she offers, rubbing her temples stressfully. 

I jump up and down, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Oh, thank you!” I repeat profusely. If Brady is going to listen to anyone, it’s her. 

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t get excited just yet,” she parts from me with a stern expression. “Your brother won’t be happy. I will vouch for you, but it’s up to you to stay in line. Tonight is your chance to really prove to Brady that you’re not a baby anymore.” 

I nod my head frantically, “yes, yes, of course! Tonight will be perfect! Promise!” 

Lauren narrows her eyes with a smirk, unconvinced. She hums, taking the sheets of paper from me to put them in the office. 

Tonight will be perfect! I can feel it. I’ve been waiting for this night ever since I can remember. After tonight, everything will be different. 

____________________________________________

Reader

As I listen to my Gloria Gaynor record, I stare at my reflection in my full-length mirror. More specifically, I admire the red satin dress that hangs off my shoulder. It’s everything I imagined it would be. As I think about it, it’s funny, I don’t feel any older, I don’t look any older, yet I feel different. 

Over the music, I hear a series of knocks on my bedroom door. "You coming, Y/N?” Brady calls from the other side. “Lauren and the others are here!"

"In a minute,” I announce, lowering the volume of my music. “I have to do my makeup!"

"You look fine as you are!" My brother insists as I hurry into my bathroom. "Besides, someone is really excited to see you..." he insinuates.

"I have to look immaculate,” I argue, rushing to put on my makeup in front of my skin. “Plus, Jay can wait!"

Working as fast as I can, I follow a makeup tutorial Twiggy did for Cosmo. It’s crucial I perfect my eyeliner and large lashes. 

"We're just going to the disco," he huffs, growing impatient. He would never last as a girl.

"It's my eighteenth birthday!” I remind him. “It's the first time I can drink and actually go into a club. Let me do what I want!” I then shoo him away, "go entertain your friends downstairs!"

"You have ten minutes!” He announces as a form of compromise. "Everyone's waiting for us!"

Mouthing the words to Gloria’s latest album, I’m practically dancing already and we’re not even at the disco yet! If only tonight could last forever. I want to ponder every minute, every second because tomorrow will be just another day and the magic will be gone. 

Sirius

James stopped by my apartment to go over things for his wedding to Lily, but I have other plans. 

"A disco?" James repeats with a frown, rolling over to lay onto his stomach on my bed. “And why would we want to do that?” 

"Muggles really love them!” I tell my best friend as I move about my bedroom to get ready. “Plus, it’s the start of summer! We are officially Hogwarts graduates, what better way to celebrate!” 

"Why can't we just go to a bar in Diagon Alley?" He reasons. 

"You'll like this place, promise! Muggle music…” I struggle to describe it. “It’s unlike anything I've ever heard before!"

"But muggles are so... mundane,” he shakes as though he just caught a chill at the thought of them. 

"I invited Remus and others too," I mention, certain that'll help convince him to come.

"At least we'll know people, I suppose," he shrugs, at least now considering the idea. 

"Just give it a chance, James. Watch, after tonight you're going to want to spend every night of our summer holiday there!" I predict, nearly positive it’ll happen. 

"Oh alright,” he complies with a huff, rising up from my bed to get ready. “I guess we don't have anything better to do," he grumbles on his way to the door. "Plus, we won't have to worry about any Death Eaters joining in on the fun."

Reader

I hurry down the stairs, to join Brady and his friends, Jay, Adam, and Henry, in the living room. The boys and their girlfriends have already started drinking while listening to some Queen in the background. They’ve gathered around on the couches and armchairs as they’ve done countless times before and after going out together. My brother is the only one standing, leaning against the fireplace mantel with a glass of scotch. Brady is the first one to notice me enter the room, he takes in my appearance in a scan of his eyes and waves me over. Clenching his jaw, he downs the remainder of his drink. 

“What are you wearing?” He asks rhetorically, wasting no time to reprimand me. 

“A dress,” I sass. 

“Cute,” He remarks sharply, not finding amusement in my response. “Go change, now.” 

“Oh come on, please,” I beg, taking his hand pleadingly. “It’s not that revealing and it’s my birthday!” 

He shakes his head, pointing toward the steps. “Go, hurry up.” 

“One night! One night and I’ll return it first thing tomorrow!” I negotiate. 

He glances between me and his empty glass, twirling around the leftover ice cubes, clearly debating whether he should accept my offer. 

“Please…” I mutter, pouting dramatically to get a rise out of my brother. 

He huffs and turns to the group. "Alright!” He shouts to gain their attention.” All eyes shift to me and my brother. “Jay, boys, I need to keep an eye on Y/N,” Brady commands of his buddies as he wraps an arm around my waist protectively.  “It's her first night out and the last thing she needs is uninvited attention, especially from wizards," he mutters the last part with disgust.

I look up at my brother in confusion. “Do you think they'll actually go to a human club?" I ask him, the idea never once crossing my mind. 

Wizards don’t really interact with us. In fact, they’ve created a whole other system and lifestyle apart of our own to avoid us. Different schools, stores, forms of government. I would imagine they have discos of their own. 

Lauren steps forward, "they're actually considered human-"

"Lauren!" My brother barks, causing his girlfriend to bite her tongue.

"That's debatable," Brady’s best friend, Jay, grumbles disdainfully, focusing on the drink in his hand. 

Henry and Adam hum in agreement, looking at Brady like he’s a preacher. 

"If we do see some, just stay clear, okay?" Brady orders strictly. Based on the sharpness of his stare, I best not test him. 

"How will I be able to tell?" I mumble, having only seen a wizard once or twice my whole life, at least consciously. 

According to Brady, and the others, wizards have the uncanny ability to appear normal just like us. However, in recent years, there’s been trouble amongst the wizard race. There’s a group of wizards who want their society and ours to be completely separate. My family and Brady’s friends are quite fond of the idea. In fact, most people are too. It’s such a frequent topic in the news,  in addition to the tensions surrounding it,  that I’ve grown annoyed by the dramatics. 

"Believe me, you'll know,” Brady assures. “They're so dependent on their magic that they can't help but use it."

"Okay, I will..." I mutter, wondering if I’ll truly see magical-beings tonight.

_________________________

Masterlist

[nameawoman]

A Little Love

A/N: here she isss!!! this is the piece that i wrote for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge that was set up by the amazing @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles (thank you for organizing all of this!! you’re all legends!!)

extra big thank you to lydia @youresogolden-h and brailey @daydreamsofh for being such sweet beta readers <3

this is my first ever attempt at writing fic, so i hope you enjoy it!

****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption

Harry is your best friend and your coworker, but you see him as more. Maybe you both just want a little love.

word count: ~8K

**April 25, 2020, 11:15am**

It’s a comfortable spring day in San Francisco. The windows are cracked, letting in sweet smelling fresh air and the moderate bustle of people out and about. Despite the perfect weather to be out at the market or taking a walk in the park, you’re currently at your neighbor’s apartment, slouched on the couch in the living room and in the midst of a New Girl marathon. Or rather, you are in the midst of a New Girl marathon, but your friend has not looked up from the guitar he is restringing for the past fifteen minutes.

You’ve been stealing glances at Harry from the other end of the couch. He has the guitar laying across his lap. He’s able to take all of the strings off and put three new ones on without a problem, but something about the fourth string seems to be giving him a lot of trouble. Every time he gets the string wound up on the tuning key, it snaps loose, like it can’t hold the tension. After several attempts with the same result, Harry sets his string winder on the coffee table and lets out a frustrated huff while scratching his forehead.

Although you know it’s probably best to not make a comment while he’s annoyed, you decide to make one anyway.

Just as he grabs the winder from the coffee table and goes in for another attempt at the string, you blurt out, “I thought the whole point of watching Netflix at your house instead of mine was so you could work and watch at the same time.”

Harry rolls his eyes and slowly cranes his head to look in your direction, “I am watching.”

“Right, so tell me what Miranda has been up to,” you challenge.

Harry lowers his head in concentration, making another attempt at winding up the string on the tuning key, “She’s like… going on a date or something.”

“Miranda isn’t even a character in the show!”

The tuning key once again snaps loose. Harry’s nostrils flare and he mutters a quick “Fucks sake.”

A moment passes where the only sound in the room is the TV. You’re trying to gauge whether or not you’ve actually pissed him off a bit. You decide to bite your tongue and see what he is going to say next.

Harry finally shifts his eyes from the guitar to you, “Obviously I can’t work and watch at the same time.”

You give him a pointed look, “You think?”

“I promise I can finish this project pretty quick, and then I’ll watch, like, four episodes, uninterrupted. I just need to go get some parts so… would you mind pausing it?”

Once the show is paused, Harry gets up from his spot on the couch, gently sets the guitar on the floor, and turns to exit the living room. However, he is stopped short since your legs are making a barricade between the couch and the coffee table. With a mischievous grin on his face, he uses his shin to slowly push your legs away from him so that your feet slide off the end of the table and onto the floor. Your jaw drops in exaggerated offense. Giggles erupt from both of you as he narrowly avoids your attempts to trip him while he steps over your legs and then jogs across the room to his workspace.

A huge benefit of living a couple of buildings away from your best friend is that any given day of the week can be spent like this. The both of you can always be found at either one of your apartments watching hours of Netflix, working on projects, or sharing meals.

Just as you were enjoying the moment of silence that fell onto the room, your phone and Harry’s phone buzz on the coffee table. With a quiet groan, you slowly sit up from the couch to see a text from your boss, sent in a group chat with yourself and Harry.

Would either of you be able to work the closing shift tonight? Sarah called in sick and the rest of the shift leads can’t work today.

Although you and Harry were both looking forward to having a Saturday off, you knew the bar was a little short-staffed this weekend, so you both kind of saw this coming.

“Is that who I think it is?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, Adam’s asking one of us to work the closing shift tonight. Sarah called in sick and I guess Charlotte can’t work today.”

Harry groans as he makes his way back to his previous spot on the couch and plops down with a screwdriver and a plastic bag containing what looks to be a new set of tuning keys in hand.

Harry takes a moment to look around his living room, taking in all of the instrument cases stacked around the small apartment, scratching his jaw in thought. “I mean, I would take it, but I’ve got a lot of projects that have to get done this weekend.”

“I guess that just leaves me then,” you say flatly, sinking further into the couch and staring straight ahead out of the window across the room.

“‘M’ sorry,” Harry says with a light chuckle at your dramatics, “I’ll owe you one.” His offer comes out more like a question.

You look back in his direction to see him with a wide, dimpled grin staring back at you. You know he’s just trying to make you feel better, and it works.

After sending a quick text to your boss letting him know you would be there tonight, you sit up straight and grab the remote from the coffee table. “That’s a really tempting offer. I’ve got a lot of sick days saved up, you know?”

“Heyyyy,” Harry draws out in a playfully offended tone.

You chuckle before asking, “Can we just finish this episode so I can go home and get some rest before work?”

“Yeah I think we can do that.” He sets the screwdriver and plastic bag on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, folding his hands together to rest on his stomach.

You press play on the remote and settle into another day with your best friend.

**April 26, 2020. 1:47am**

About ten minutes until the bar closes, and there are still three large, lively groups hanging around. You and your coworkers have done as many pre-closing tasks as you possibly could, aside from taking the drink glasses straight out of the customers’ hands. Now it just seems to be the longest waiting game ever until you’re officially allowed to kick everyone out.

While you’re all busying yourselves with wiping down counters and straightening chairs, the front door swings open.

Just as you’re about to put on your best customer service face that you can muster, you see a familiar blue and white plaid jacket and fluffy brown curls. Harry is strolling in, surveying the crowd of customers as he’s making his way to where you’re standing at the bar. You see that he is donning a form-fitting grey t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on it, light brown high-waisted pants, and a delicate looking pearl necklace. He always seems to be able to effortlessly look put together, even when he is making bold choices.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and ask with exaggerated charm, “Come here often?”

“Oh god.” He laughs at your ill attempt at comedy through a pained expression.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “Same as always.”

Harry has made it a routine to walk home with you when you’re working the closing shift. Even when you insist that there’s no need for him to stay up so late when he’s not working.

He glances around before looking back at you, “Is there anything I can help with right now?”

You shake your head. “Just waiting for them to leave so we can clean everything.”

“Bollocks,” he mutters before puckering his lips.

You decide to go around the corner of the bar to the prep area where the music controls are. Hopefully the customers will take the hint that it’s time to leave once you lower the volume.

After a few minutes, all of the staff are breathing a collective sigh of relief when one group makes their way to the door and the other two groups shortly follow suit.

By the time you follow the crowd out and you lock the door, it’s 2:05 a.m. Considering how busy it was tonight, you’re counting this as a small victory.

Harry and your other coworkers are going around cleaning up glasses and bottles and taking them back to the sink while you make your way to the register to start your shift lead duties.

Once the tips are divided, you take a look around and see that your coworkers are steadily making their way through the cleaning checklist. With Harry’s help, things are moving along pretty quickly. You pull the first bundle of cash out of the drawer and start counting.

After getting the cash drawer sorted out, and counting out a new one for Monday, you hear your coworker saying your name. “I think we’ve done everything on the cleaning checklist. Is there anything else you need help with?”

“Actually, all I have left to do is inventory. I’m not gonna hold you hostage for that, so you guys are free to head out if you want to.”

Your coworkers are saying goodnight and clocking out shortly after. Once they're gone, you’re left with the faint buzzing of the refrigerators and the light music over the speakers. You turn around to face the shelves of bottles and notice a few that are running low and need replacing. You go down the ‘employees only’ hallway to the back stockroom and grab all the bottles you need. Hugging them to your chest, you make your way back down the hallway. You walk about halfway when a figure jumps out of the supply closet to your right, causing you to jump backwards and let out a scream.

Harry’s howling laughter echoes through the hallway as you try to catch your breath and will your heart to stop racing.

You finally regain some composure and turn to fully face Harry. His laughter has reduced to occasional soft chuckles falling past his pursed lips. If your arms weren’t full, you would most likely be smacking him for scaring the shit out of you.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You do your best to give him death glare, but your voice is now shaking with laughter as well. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop any of this stuff, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but you should have seen your face. Holy shit.” He opens his arms and slowly steps toward you to bring you in for a hug.

“Well if you’re so sorry, put these on the shelf for me.” You say as you thrust the bottles into his chest, making him grunt out a laugh.

You walk to the front with Harry trailing behind you. All you have left to do is make a few notes for Adam before finally clocking out. You’ve never been more excited for your head to hit the pillow when you get home.

As you’re making your notes, Harry is pacing about behind you, straightening out all of the bottles on the shelves. He lets out a long observant hum.

“What?”

“Just noticed this guy’s almost empty,” he holds up a bottle of tequila and swirls around what little liquor is left in it. One corner of his mouth turns up before he looks at you, “Enough left for two more shots, probably.”

“Is that so?”

“Y’ wanna find out?”

“I don’t know,” you say as you tilt your head up and tap your chin in thought “I don’t know how I feel about taking shots with people who jump out of supply closets to scare me.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that.” He’s exaggerating and drawing all of his words out as he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you so that his hands are resting on your left shoulder and he rests the side of his head on the back of yours. “I’m sorry. Please take a shot with me.”

Although it's pointless since he can’t see your face, you roll your eyes in response, “Fine. Pour me one.”

His hand gives your shoulder a light squeeze before he moves away and reaches under the counter then puts two shot glasses onto the bar. He reaches behind him for the nearly empty bottle and pours the perfect amount into each glass. Taking them both in his hands, he extends one to you.

You don’t miss the chuckle that he lets out as you take the glass from him. After giving him a questioning look, you notice a slight blush on his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Was just thinking. This,” he gestures to the two of you and the glasses you’re both holding “reminds me of the day you got into the art institute.”

Around this time a year ago, you had spent weeks pouring over your application for the San Francisco Art Institute and months after that waiting to hear anything back. When you got the acceptance email toward the end of your shift at work, Harry was the first person that you told. Just over a year ago, you were standing with Harry behind this same bar when you told him the good news. Your chest filled with warmth at his reaction. He wrapped you in a nearly suffocating hug as he loudly declared, “I told you you had a kick ass portfolio! So fuckin proud of you.”

Right after he released you from the hug, he poured each of you a shot. Harry then made the impromptu decision of doing a bar crawl after you both got off, deeming the two shots “not enough celebration”.

After a night full of slightly over the top celebrating, you were practically dragging Harry home. It wasn’t until you got to his apartment building that he realized he had left his keys and wallet at one of the bars. Not wanting to drag him back across town, you ended up bringing him back to your apartment just around the corner.

It took a lot of coaxing, but you were able to get him to drink a big glass of water before helping him brush his teeth with your spare toothbrush.

You have a lot of vague and fuzzy memories from that night, but there are two that remain crystal clear. One is the moment when you were clumsily leading him to your couch and he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Wish I could kiss you.” And the other is the way your stomach dropped and your heart nearly fluttered out of control at his drunken confession.

The conversations about that night always turned into jokes about you being able to handle your liquor better than he could. His comment was never brought up by either of you. You weren’t sure if he would even remember it, or if either of you really wanted to.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “we should never be allowed to celebrate anything after that. We were miserable the next day.”

You lock eyes with him and for a split second there’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Like a different kind of softness that you hadn’t seen before this moment.

It’s fleeting, however, because he glances down at your hands and clinks your glasses together. You tilt your heads back at the same time, feeling the burn in your throats and letting out sharp exhales once it’s passed.

Harry takes your glass from your hand and silently goes to the prep area. You hear the sink running as you finish up your notes to your boss and you clock out.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah I just need to get my-” you stop mid-sentence when you turn around to see Harry already holding out your bag that had been hanging up in the prep area. You mutter a ‘never mind’ as you take it from him.

Harry grabs his jacket from the pool table and you stroll to the front door together, turning off lights as you go.

You finally step out into the chilly nighttime air. The only noises are coming from the small scattered groups of people gathering in front of the bars on the block that are just closing.

After locking the doors, you and Harry start trudging along the sidewalk up the steep hill. If you had known that it was going to get so much colder and windier during the night, you would have brought a jacket with you. You fold your arms and grit your teeth as another cold breeze hits you from the front.

You don’t even notice Harry taking off his jacket until he’s holding it in front of your face. You pause your walking for a moment to gently take it from his hand.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold?”

“Well I’m not gonna watch you shiver all the way home.”

You frown a bit as you look at the jacket in your hands. You can still feel the warmth from Harry’s body heat on the hand that’s grasping the inside of it. Having that little bit of warmth already makes you feel better, but you hate to think that he’s going to be the one gritting his teeth against the cold.

He says your name through a chuckle and you look up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just put the jacket on and let’s get you home, yeah?”

**April 26th, 2020. 5:30am**

It should be considered a crime to be wide awake at this hour, considering the small amount of sleep you’ve gotten. The only thing you had the energy to do when you got home last night was change out of your work clothes and fall into bed. You remember glancing at your clock and reading 3:15 a.m. before your eyelids grew heavy and closed.

The reminder of Harry’s drunk confession that you thought was water under the bridge is now flooding your mind as you desperately try to fall back to sleep. You try to push down the memory of his giggles as you made the strenuous effort of finding the switch on your living room lamp while having nearly all of his body weight leaned against you for support. You try to push down the memory of his flushed cheeks in the glowing yellow light when you finally got him settled on your couch. You try to push down the memory of running your fingers through his soft curls and giving his hairline a soft kiss before going to bed. You try to think of literally anything else.

It isn’t until the very first hints of daylight enter your room that you decide to give up.

The floor is cold on your feet as you walk to your bathroom, rubbing your tired eyes.

After a quick shower and putting on your favorite t-shirt and jeans, you feel less sluggish. You focus on going through your kitchen pantry to find something for your growling stomach.

Although you wish that you were still sleeping soundly in your bed, you think of how rare it is to get to see this city both at the dead of night and when it’s slowly starting to wake up. To be able to greet the light in your living room as it dances across the pictures on your walls and you mill about with your bowl of cereal.

The pictures lined up on your walls remind you of the project that you started last week that you need new photos for. You go to your closet and get the bag that holds your digital camera. Your mind is buzzing at the thought of taking it to the park before it gets too crowded.

You put on a jacket and shoes, pull your camera bag over your shoulder, and head out into the chilly Sunday morning.

********************

You round the corner of your block and start making your way down the steep hill, admiring the multicolored houses across the street that are glowing softly in the morning light. A smile spreads across your face as you reach into your bag for your camera and your fisheye lens. Once you’ve captured a few shots that you’re happy with, you move on toward the park.

You’re coming up on Harry’s building, and you instinctively glance up at the second story bay window that you know belongs to his apartment. Because this side of his building is still in the shade at this point in the day, you can see that his light is on.

“What’s he doing up?” you think to yourself. He’s always been an early riser, but considering how late you both stayed up, you would hope that he had been able to get some extra sleep.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, Harry appears in the window. His blinds are wide open, so you can clearly see him stepping up to his record player and delicately placing the needle on the vinyl. A toothbrush hangs out of his mouth.

What your eyes are more drawn to, however, is his choice of clothing, or lack thereof. He’s standing in front of his window in nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You knew the t-shirt too well as the one he found at a thrift store years ago and became obsessed with after reading the ‘Treat People With Kindness’ logo on the front. He steps back from the record player and tilts his head back to brush his teeth. You watch as his jaw flexes and is accentuated by the light scruff of facial hair along it.

It’s becoming alarmingly clear to you that you are alone in the middle of the sidewalk, about thirty feet away from your best friend’s window, ogling him as he’s minding his own business. As much as your palms are sweating and your stomach is doing somersaults at the prospect of being spotted, you cannot bring yourself to continue walking. You wouldn’t mind becoming a permanent part of the sidewalk if it meant having this kind of view.

Harry turns and walks away from the window. You finally snap out of your daze and hurry past his window, thankful for the help of the downhill slope to move you along. Once you get to the corner of the block, you stop and lean your back against the building. Lightly smacking your forehead, you mutter out loud to yourself, “What the hell was that?”

********************

The trip to the park turned out to be a perfect way to spend the morning. You ended up taking a lot of pictures of murals and flowers before the park started to get too busy.

With your favorite album playing through your headphones, your mind is now buzzing with the excitement of having new photos to edit.

Once you cross the street, you’re now standing on the corner of your block. One way would lead you once again past the window to Harry’s apartment. The other way would help you avoid another potentially awkward sighting, but was much longer and usually includes lines for overcrowded restaurants.

Keeping your head down, you continue walking straight ahead in the same direction that you came from.

As you’re hiking up the hill, you suddenly hear a voice that you know is not coming through your headphones. You turn your volume down and listen to your surroundings. Plain as day, someone behind you shouts your name. You rip your headphones out and whip around to see Harry waving at you from his window.

“Hey! You wanna come up for breakfast?”

Your feet are firmly planted to the sidewalk, much like they were about an hour ago when you stood in the same spot and ogled this man.

You opened your mouth, not knowing what to say, and pathetically jabbed your thumb in the general direction of your apartment. “Actually I… I-I was gonna-”

“I’ve got coffee from Trieste,” he says in a sing-song tone.

You internally roll your eyes and curse him for knowing that you can never deny coffee from your favorite place in town. Plus, wracking your brain for a good excuse to be on your way is becoming difficult due to the hunger pains starting up in your stomach. That bowl of cereal is only holding you over for so long.

You look up at his dimpled face and relax your shoulders, “Okay, yeah. Yeah I’ll come up.”

“I’ll unlock the door for you!” is the last thing you hear before he shuts his window and you make your way to the stairs.

You climb up to the second story and turn down his hallway. When you’re standing in front of his door, you can hear music playing.

You open the door and you’re met with the sounds of trumpets. Harry has Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” playing on his record player. He has it just loud enough to where it won’t annoy any of his neighbors, but it still fills every corner of the living room. It’s not the first time you’ve walked into a similar scene here. You know this to be one of his favorite songs to play in the morning.

You close the door behind you and take in the state of the room as you walk through. The instrument cases are a little more organized than they had been yesterday. Smaller ones are stacked up next to his workstation and the larger ones are stacked up in the corner next to his couch. His laptop sits open on the coffee table and a haphazard stack of blank paper repair tags sat next to it.

The camera bag on your shoulder is now starting to feel heavy, so you plop down on the couch. Your ears perk up at the sound of Harry singing along with the record from the kitchen.

“You can have an aeroplane flyin’. If you bring your blue sky back.”

Following the smell of coffee, you walk over to the doorway of the small kitchen. Harry is  standing at the counter. Thankfully he is not wearing the outfit that you saw him in earlier. He’s wearing brown trousers and a cream colored flannel with black and green stripes. He also has on his signature pair of scuffed up black vans.

There is a small table and two chairs in the corner of the kitchen next to the window with a vase of sunflowers and a couple of books sitting on it. You walk over to the table to inspect the books more closely. Art as Therapy by Alain de Botton & John Armstrong and The Course of Love, also by Alain de Botton. Before you get the chance to flip them over and read the descriptions, Harry clears his throat.

“Coffee’s ready.” He sets the kettle down on the counter and dances his way over to the cupboard where he keeps his mugs.

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face, admiring his ability to always be so energetic in the mornings.

He takes the filter out of the chemex and chunks it in the trash before pouring the coffee into two mugs. The way he turns with a mug in each hand, extending one to you, is extremely reminiscent of last night. After you take the mug from his hands, he scoots past you into the living room. The volume of the music lowers to a faint background noise before he appears again in the kitchen.

“So,” he pauses to reach into the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it on the counter, “what are you doing up so early? Figured you’d be in bed till noon. Seemed pretty exhausted last night.” He takes a long sip of coffee, waiting for your response.

Suddenly you’re doing everything to not look in his direction. Your eyes are shifting from the table to the flowers to the mug in your hands.

“Um… yeah I woke up at like 5:30 for some reason and couldn’t go back to sleep. So I just decided to take a walk with my camera.” Your last few words echo from your mug before you take a big sip.

Harry clicks his tongue. “M’ sorry, that sucks. Did you at least see anything interesting?”

You involuntarily gasp at his question, causing the coffee to go directly down the wrong pipe. Several harsh coughs erupt from your chest.

Harry acts quickly, muttering a quick “shit” before taking the cup from your hand and setting it on the table along with his. He steps behind you and you hear a chair scoot out from the table. His hands gently wrap around your upper arms, prompting you to have a seat. You fold over in the chair, gripping the edge of the table for stability. After a few more strong coughs, you’re finally able to catch your breath.

Harry’s fingertips rubbing soothing circles on your back sends electricity up and down your spine.

His hand slides off of your back as he steps away from you, “Alright? Want some water?” He’s already walking over to his cabinet and pulling out a glass before you respond.

Once you clear your throat, you croak out, “Yeah I’m fine, that’s fine.”

He sets the glass on the table in front of you, turns back to the carton of eggs on the counter and starts cracking some into a pan.

After taking some sips of your water, you say, “So I was going to ask you the same question. What are you doing up so early?”

“Well, funny enough, I also had to wake up around 5:30. I’ve got a client coming to pick up her trumpet this morning and I had to get everything sorted and clean up a bit before she got here.”

Nodding your head, you tease, “Oh yeah, it looks really good in there. Was starting to forget what your floor looked like.”

Your heart leaps at the sound of Harry’s belly laugh. “Wow. Wowwwwww. Already giving me a hard time. At this hour. Jesus.”

You laugh at his exaggerated reaction while he simply shakes his head.

There’s a knock at the front door. Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Must be her, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to do those?” You stand up from your spot at the table and gesture to the pan.

“Sure, that’d be great, thanks,” he says over his shoulder when he exits the kitchen.

A moment later, you hear the sound of a woman’s voice greeting Harry. It sounds like they’re just standing in his entryway because you can’t really make out what either of them are saying.

Meanwhile, you go about scrambling eggs, making toast, and getting out plates and silverware. By the time Harry is back in the kitchen, you’re already starting to put everything on the table.

You pick up the books from the table and hold them up to Harry, “Where do you want these?”

“Oh uh, I’ll just put those on the coffee table.” When you hand them off to him, he holds up the copy of Art as Therapy. “This one’s for you though, make sure you take it with you today.”

You tilt your head in question.

“Just thought it looked like something you would enjoy. Saw it when I was looking for this other one.” He holds up The Course of Love.

Before you could say anything, he’s disappeared again into the living room.

Once you’re both sitting at the table and digging into your breakfast, Harry asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

You squint your eyes at him. “I mean, I don’t really have anything planned. Why do you ask?”

“Well that client that was just here offered me two free tickets to her jazz band’s show tonight as, like, an extra ‘thank you’.” He shrugs, “Might be fun to go to.”

With a straight face, you reply, “I can’t, I’m booked tonight.”

You stare at each other for a minute in silence trying not to crack a smile, until you both start snorting.

“I know you’re free because the bar is closed and Sarah is still sick.” Harry tosses his fork on his plate and leans back in his chair like he’s just won an argument.

You mirror him by crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “What if I have plans with Mitch? Sarah’s boyfriend?”

Harry furrows his brows and looks at you, baffled, “I know who Mitch is, why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Because I knew it would throw you off.”

“Alright, I’ll just take Mitch to the concert then.”

You drop your jaw and lightly kick his leg under the table. “What time is this concert?” You ask, slipping out of your teasing tone.

“It’s at seven.” Harry leans forward and lifts his coffee from the table, holding it up to you.

You grab yours from the table and clink it with his before finishing off the remainder of your coffee.

***********************

Back at your apartment, you’re leaning back in your chair at the desk in your living room, waiting for your pictures from today to upload on your computer. Your hands run over the smooth blue and green cover of Art as Therapy. In the few years that you have known Harry, you’ve swapped countless book recommendations back and forth, and the bookshelves in your apartments are constantly changing due to all of the borrowing you both do. You’ve even gotten each other books for birthdays and other holidays. This is the first book that he has bought for you completely unprompted. You hadn’t even heard of the author until today, so it’s not like he heard you mention in passing wanting to read his books.

You flip the book over and read the description, then flip to the first few pages to see a statement about the authors. “Their proposal is that certain great works of art offer clues on managing the tensions and confusions of everyday life and that, approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.”

Quickly shaking yourself out of your own thoughts, you check the progress on your photos. Approximately 20 minutes remaining.

You huff, slap the book closed, and toss it on the desk before getting up and walking to your room. There’s an old shoe box on one of your shelves that you like to go through when you’re feeling sad or having a weird day, which feels about right at this moment.

You plop down on your bed and set the box in front of you, opening up the lid. The rush of nostalgia and warmth that comes over you when going through this box is overwhelming sometimes. It’s filled with miscellaneous photos that you’ve taken on your film camera over the past few years. There are some that capture your favorite buildings and murals throughout the city. There are a lot from when you went to the pride celebrations last year. The majority of the pictures in the box capture candid moments of your friends and family. These kinds of pictures are the ones that remind you of why you love photography so much and even after getting high marks on your work for the institute, these are the ones that you end up feeling the most proud of.

You see your friends from out of state standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge from the time they paid you a surprise visit. Another one shows your cousin at his college graduation. There’s one of your friend and coworker, Sarah, and her boyfriend Mitch from the day you and Harry helped them move into their new apartment, proudly holding up the keys, smiling from ear to ear.

And then there’s quite a lot of Harry. Harry playing pool at a bar across town, Harry at the beach tossing a football with Mitch, a kind of blurry one of him going crazy at an Ariana Grande concert. You laugh out loud when you find the one of him proudly wearing your dress during a drunken game of truth or dare, and the one of him making a ‘kissy’ face at you in those obnoxious Gucci sunglasses that he wore for pretty much an entire summer. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve experienced together until you go back and look at these pictures.

You’ve been flipping through them pretty quickly, but you come across one that makes you freeze. It’s from your friend’s birthday party a few months ago. You got someone to take a picture of yourself with Sarah and Mitch, but Harry decided to jump in. In the picture, Mitch is in the middle of you and Sarah, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and Harry has his arms hugged tight around your middle and his cheek is pressed to yours. It could be seen as a form of affection, if his face wasn’t covered in icing from your friend’s birthday cake. The photo is perfectly timed to capture everyone’s shocked laughter.

Just by looking at this photo again, you can feel his smile against your cheek and his arms holding you close. It’s a feeling you’ve been wanting more of ever since that night. Maybe that’s the ‘intimate question’ you’ve been asking yourself- Do you really want more with Harry?

**April 26th, 2020. 6:58pm**

You’re sure nobody on the street could miss you and Harry. After saying quick ‘thank you’s to the uber driver, you grab hands and start jogging toward the entrance of the SFJAZZ Center- a three story building with windows wrapping all the way around. The show is supposed to start in two minutes. You would have arrived much earlier if Harry hadn’t left the tickets on his kitchen table. You’re both dodging and weaving through people on the sidewalk, you in your favorite floral dress and Harry in a bold green suit jacket.

Once in the lobby, you both reduce your pace to a brisk walk and you readjust the bag on your shoulder. Harry’s hand is still holding yours as you’re both scanning the lobby for the right place to go. You spot a couple of employees closing doors labeled ‘main hall seating’.

“Over here,” you say, pulling Harry along with you.

Luckily, you’re able to catch the ushers in time to show them your tickets and be let in. The expansive auditorium is filled with the sound of chattering people and musicians warming up their instruments.

Thankfully, your seats are in a row toward the back and to the left of the stage, so you don’t have to make too big of a scene when scooting past people. Right when you settle in, the house lights dim, the chatter rapidly dies down, and the band on the stage goes silent.

The lull is soon replaced with applause when a woman walks out and stands center stage. She introduces herself as the director of programming and welcomes the audience. “Thank you all for being here tonight. Your support means so much to this center as we continue to make music and art and do what we love to do.” She pauses to hold up a booklet in her hands. “As you may have seen in your program, tonight’s performance is a special one.”

For the first time, you glance around the room and notice almost everyone but you and Harry has a program in their lap or held in their hands.

The woman on stage continues. “Some of you may know this, and some of you may not, but April is the birth month of American jazz singer, Billie Holiday. So, to honor her legacy, this lovely band sitting behind me has put together arrangements of some of her greatest hits.” Applause fills the room once again.

“Some of the performances tonight will feature vocalists and some will be done with the band only, so I hope everyone will find something they enjoy. Now, without further ado, I present to you A Little Love, with Billie Holiday.”

There is applause for a third time, but your hands are suddenly too heavy in your lap to join in. As the director exits the stage and another woman, presumably the vocalist, takes her place, your mind is reeling at the situation you’re currently in. How have you wound up at a jazz concert dedicated to love, that you decided to attend on a whim, with your best friend that you suddenly have overwhelming feelings for?

All of the subtle signs and notions of feelings you have had over the years have turned into blaring alarms, and they’re all pointing to one person. The man sitting right next to you, who is also sitting stock still in his seat.

There’s a drumroll from the stage followed by a light and smooth saxophone solo that brings you back into the moment. The vocalist begins the captivating first verse of Billie Holiday’s You Go to My Head.

You go to my head

And you linger like a haunting refrain

And I find you spinning round in my brain

Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You slowly sink about three inches down into your seat. You wish you had a program now so that you could at least use it to fan your face. You reach your hand up to dab at your forehead.

At the same time Harry takes a deep breath and lightly trills his lips while itching the bridge of his nose.

The vocalist continues to sing the lyrics that are hitting you directly in the gut.

The thrill of the thought

That you might give a thought to my plea

Casts a spell over me

Still I say to myself “Get a hold of yourself”

Can’t you see that it never can be

You glance around the auditorium as much as you can without turning your head in Harry’s direction, wondering if anyone else is feeling the temperature rise or the tension that seems to be wrapped around the both of you.

You go to my head

With a smile that makes my temperature rise

Like a summer with a thousand Julys

You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Though I’m certain that this heart of mine

Hasn’t the ghost of a chance in this crazy romance

You go to my head

Your mind is reeling yet again at the situation you’re in. This must be some kind of elaborate prank that the universe is pulling on you. You’re half expecting a spotlight to fall on you and Harry that nobody in the room would even question.

The feeling doesn’t lift as the concert goes on. Soulful songs about a lover’s eyes, falling in love, how easy it is to live when you’re in love. Even where there is not a vocalist, you seem to know what the songs are implying.

Something that comes up in your rapid stream of thoughts is the author’s note you read earlier, “approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.” You ask yourself the question again: Do you want more with Harry?

You think about the pictures of the times you’ve spent together. Crazy shifts at the bar, days in the park, breakfasts, dinners, late nights staying up talking about god knows what. You know the answer. You’ve always known the answer.

It seems like your heart has caught up with your thoughts, because it’s pounding in your chest.

Halfway through the final song of the night, you decide to steal a glance at Harry. Slowly turning your head, you peek through the corner of your eye.

A quick jolt of electricity runs through your entire body when you see that Harry already has his eyes on you. You turn your head back to the stage, but you can still feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

When thunderous applause breaks out after the final song, Harry turns his head back to the stage as you both limply clap along with the audience.

******************

This is the most quiet car ride of your life. There isn’t even any music being played in the background. The only words that have been exchanged between you and Harry since the concert ended were when he asked you if it was okay for the uber to just drop you both at your building and you answered with a simple ‘sure’.

There are so many feelings swirling around in you that you don’t know what to do with, and you definitely don’t want all of them to spill out in this stranger’s car, so you keep your jaw clenched as you look out of the window.

The car comes to a stop outside of your building and you both mutter ‘thank you’s as you climb out. You both silently make your way through the lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway to your door.

Just last night you were making the same trip. You were making light jokes about wanting to steal Harry’s jacket and he was joking back, accusing you of wanting him to freeze to death. You had to remind each other not to laugh so loud so you wouldn’t disturb anyone. Now the only sound in the hallway is your shoes on the floor.

Once you reach your door, you open your bag and start digging for your keys. “Thanks, um, thanks for inviting me. It was a really good show.” You find your keys and push them into the lock before turning your eyes to Harry.

He has one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… Yeah it was... it was fun. Glad you could come with me.” He moves his hands from their places and awkwardly moves his arms out for a hug.

You smile and let out a sharp exhale through your nose at the awkwardness of this whole situation, but you gladly reciprocate the hug. Your arms completely wrap around each other, your hands tightly gripping his jacket. You can smell his cologne, like ginger and honey and cedar, and it’s making your head spin. You embrace for a few seconds and then release each other.

Harry sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and slowly takes a few steps to turn away.

You turn the key in the lock, then turn your head to watch Harry take his first few steps away from you. You don’t want him to get any further.

“Harry?”

He stops and turns around to face you. “Yeah?”

You cannot believe the question that’s coming to your mind, but it’s the only thing that’s been coherent enough to put into words. You gulp and take a deep breath before asking, “Do you… do you still wish you could kiss me?”

You watch about three different emotions pass across Harry’s face. His mouth opens, his head tilts to the side, then his mouth closes and his eyes shift to the floor.

You feel a flood of regret. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. That was stupid. He doesn’t remember. Just play it off.

You know your face is flushed with embarrassment as you speak softly, “I’m sorry. I just. That night that you were really drunk and I brought you back here, you said that you wish- that you wished y-”

Hearing Harry say your name stops your rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I know what I said.” He’s eyeing you cautiously and taking a couple of steps toward you again. “And… yeah. I still wish I could kiss you. Felt that way for… a while now.”

Tears are brimming your eyes as you look into his, trying to absorb what he’s just said. Then it’s almost like the floor beneath you tilts in his direction, nudging you to move forward until you’re standing directly in front of him. You can smell his cologne again.

With your eyes still locked into his, you slowly raise your hands to place them on the back of his neck, thumbs stroking the corners of his jaw.

After taking a shaky breath, you whisper, “I wish I could kiss you, too.”

Harry gulps and shifts his eyes down to your lips. He takes a deep breath through his nose before you feel his hand lightly grip your waist and his other hand takes a similar position on your neck.

You both stand there for a few breaths, eyes roaming over each other’s faces.

You start to lean in and then stop about half way and close your eyes. You’re both just waiting to see who will close the gap.

After a moment, you feel Harry’s grip on your neck and waist tighten and you feel him leaning in. Then his lips are on yours. They’re on yours again and again. You tilt your heads to deepen the kisses and he takes a step toward you. You follow his lead until your back is pressed against your door.

As much as it pains you to do so, you have to stop so you can catch your breath. You reach one of your hands into his hair and lightly pull him away. Both of you are breathing  in sync.

Once your breathing is evened out, you lock eyes with Harry. Your heart flutters when you exchange shy but knowing smiles and his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

After clearing your throat, you move your hand to your door knob. “Do you want to come in?”

Harry glances at your hand then returns his eyes to yours. He purses his lips and takes a sharp breath in. “I just want to know what you want.”

What just happened a few seconds ago already seems monumental to you. After the emotional roller coaster of this day, you’re not sure whether or not you’re ready for more tonight.

You take your hand from the doorknob and run it along his shoulder to return it to its previous position on his neck. “Honestly, I’m so fucking exhausted from today.” You watch as Harry nods his head in understanding. “I think all I want tonight is to hold you,” you notice the softness in his eyes, the same softness that you noticed for a fleeting second in the bar last night. “And keep kissing you.” This makes a lopsided smirk pop onto his face. “And I want to talk in the morning. About us.”

Harry leans in and presses a sweet peck to your lips. “I think we can do that.”

*******************

If anyone would have told you that your day was going to end with you and Harry in your bed, your head on his chest, and him running his fingers soothingly over your back, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Harry?” you say softly, just as your eyelids are starting to get heavy.

His fingers stop for a moment, “Yeah?”

Thinking over the sequence of events that led you to where you are now, you start to erupt into sleepy giggles. “Did you know that the performance was gonna be,” you pause, trying to find the right word, “that?”

Harry lets out a deep belly laugh and when you glance up at him, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t have planned that if I tried.”

Before you know it, you’re both laughing uncontrollably, recounting the insane timing of the whole situation.

Harry rolls to his side so that he’s facing you and places a lingering kiss on your lips. “I’ll have to tell that client that any repairs she wants are on the house now.”

You throw your head back laughing and he pulls you into his chest, smothering your neck with kisses before resting his chin on top of your head.

If this is all you could have for the rest of your life, just a little love from each other, you would never want anything more.

************************************************************

thank you so much for reading!!

if you enjoyed this fic, please remember that reblogs and/or nice messages mean the world to fic writers. <3

you can find my masterlist here and my inbox here

& make sure to check out the other amazing fics on the pypfc masterlist

[purplerose244]

Irrational - Chapter 1: The first star in the morning

​Hello everyone!! The @spacecampweek is finally here!! 😍

I cannot wait to see all the content for these two math dorks! Here is my contribution, a collection of oneshots including all the prompts, starting with the first, “Stars”! ✨

Enjoy!! 💙💙

Summary: Seamus was going to smack that idiot of his best friend right in the head for putting him into this situation. A private moment with his little crush, sure, what a marvelous plan of his! There was only one thing he didn’t take into account: this space nerd’s absolutely terrible flirting techniques.

Read it on the AO3

“… have I… have I told you about that time I went for the tryouts of the basketball team?” Seamus huffed with superiority, mostly for the sake of breathing out some air on this overly hot day. “I’m sure you can tell, I’m a pretty athletic person. The only reason I didn’t join was because I needed to keep up my grades or whatever, school is a total pain.” He smirked towards his right. “Maybe I can bring you to the gym sometimes, teach you how to make three-pointers? I’m sure you’d like that.” His overly confident tone fell into oblivion, as silent kept prevailing. He could feel the sweat going down his neck, behind the high collar of his black jacket.

Good lord, he was wearing a leather jacket. A freaking. Leather. Jacket. When he thought this day couldn’t get any more awkward.

“Four.” Seamus jumped over his seat.

“Huh?”

“Four times.” At last, the Cantaloupian had finally raised his eyes from his phone, showing him the most annoyed look he had ever seen on a human being. “You have mentioned this casket sport of yours at least four times tonight. Merely to answer your question.” Without much of a nod or an impressed look, his pretty nose went back to the lightened-up screen. Never mind, this day had all the chances to get plenty of more awkward.

He was losing him. Oh gosh, he was totally blowing it.

This made no sense! Sure he and Tight Jeans Hank had gone out only a few times before he got head over heels for Mary, but he was totally into the three-pointer thing! Sure, making up an excuse after that on why they never actually went to the gym had been a little draining, a little shameful, but at least there was that! He wasn’t completely out of his game.

… was he? Quick, another one! Huh, what did work out with that one guy from math class before he discovered he liked astronomy better?

“Huh, uhm… you know one time we got Mrs. Janeth so mad I was called into the principal’s office, but I got out without a single problem! You didn’t expect me to be this much of a bad boy, didn’t you? Yeah, this math student is good with numbers as a cover, my call is… being… mischievous…” Oh the cringe. It was going to be all worth it if he got at least a change from the guy sitting at the passenger’s seat. “Heh, people still wonder how I did it.” He grinned towards him, wiggling his eyebrows. “I could tell you, but it has to be… our secret.” Wow. He was channeling his interior Steve. The only difference was that that knucklehead at least was actually good at sports and actually good at getting into troubles.

Heck, even Pepperjack was more of a rebel!

Ah. Silence. Not even the Cantaloupian checking his phone was making any noise.

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were still all over the screen. He didn���t even bother to give him a look this time. “Would not be much of a secret in that case, now would it.”

The blonde was starting to think there was some kind of massive secret stored into that device. His eyes fell on it. Nope, this guy was literally tapping onto apps and exiting them without doing anything. Seamus almost laugh at the awfulness of all, wondering if it was too late running out in the woods and hope his allergy was going to kill him sooner or later. Then he stumbled with his memory to Spring Fling, the date he got – that had spent most of the night making out with someone else in the bathroom, but still.

Alright, confident. An intriguing, intimidating guy, one Krel might wanna know better.

“W-well, the best part of having secrets is sharing it with others! Saying, see this bruise I have?” He pointed at his temple, panicking for a second to remember where it was. His mind went right, and he really hope he wasn’t just pointing at his cheek like an idiot. “I got into this massive fight after class, it was insane! I won’t bore you with details, the usual argument with those bozos from our rival school, but if you think this dent is bad you should see the other guys! Pretty cool huh?”

Silence again.

A sigh. It held together such an annoyed power it left him baffled for a second. Krel was narrowing his eyes so much they looked closed.

“Forgive me, I am still trying to master the art of sarcasm, so I will have to warn you beforehand: I am about to use it.” He cleared his voice. “Wow, that is impressive and totally not an idiotic behavior, thank you very much for telling me.” He made a very forced, very exaggerated smile, before dropping it while still looking at him and then going back at losing time on the phone.

More death wishes filled him. Seamus grimaced, sneezed, and checked if the windows were actually closed while grunting under his breath. He breathed through his nose, hands gripping the wheel simply to have something to do.

It was official. This was the worst first non-date of history, and it was all his fault.

… or Steve’s. Yeah, Steve’s fault sounded better.

The ground of the woods was most likely all over the wheels of dad’s car which was going to drive him mad once again, the occasional sniff of pollen into the air had been making his eyes tear up even since they got here – the windows were actually closed, how, stupid allergy –, and he was stuck there ruining all the chances he never had in the first place. Yes, it made so much more sense blaming that good for nothing jock. The only reason Seamus was there in the first place was because his Vespa was out of service – he had said something something creeper walking on the crosswalk, he had stopped listening at some point –, and he had promised his girlfriend to go back to the kissing tree as soon as the situation was calmer or whatever. Seamus, being the good friend he was – especially since Logan was grounded –, had joined in to give them a lift and wait in the car for the two lovebirds to have their mushy moments, feeling extremely single in the process.

When he had seen Aja and Steve getting out of the Tarron’s residence, Seamus had waved.

When he had seen coming along as well none other than Krel Tarron, he had briefly considered pushing onto the accelerator and leaving everyone and everything into the dust. His body had not complied – the traitor. The happy couple had positioned themselves in the back seats, with Aja saying her little brother had decided not to be a recluse for tonight, while the Cantaloupian genius had comfortably seated himself next to him, giving a smile.

A smile.

How dare he? A smile!?

It was Steve’s fault, it definitely was. There was no way Krel would have come out of his own will, it was notorious he despised social gatherings with intellectually inferior people – mood – and hated nature even more – bigger mood. His sister had never been able to convince him before, he knew that because Steve had made it a habit narrating his escapades with Aja after every single date, and it had always started with “We left the buttsnack home and…”. The first time Seamus offered a ride home to the two of them, and magically the little crush he had only confided to Steve and Logan – and Mary but Mary was gossip queen so that didn’t count – had decided to tag along with them. Suspicious, very suspicious.

So, there they were. They had been stuck into his car for an hour at least now, waiting to check if Aja and Steve planned on staying here for longer or eventually head back. Seamus really hoped for the second. He had no idea how the tension had raised up to this point, nothing was working! Krel was barely acknowledging him, and he was starting to wonder why he decided to join in in the first place. Maybe he lost a bet with Steve or something, that would have explained it.

… it did explain it. He was here against his will, with him, having the worst time of his life. Seamus pressed his lips together, the silence weighting onto his stomach. Maybe he could ask something else? What more anecdotes did he have left? The full score at Alex, getting kicked out of Sam’s…

… why was he feeling worse?

His phone vibrated right there. He had no doubt who was disturbing and judging by the sudden vibration from Krel’s phone the other half of the couple was sending similar messages.

THEPalchuk: Hey man

THEPalchuk: Me and Aja are staying around more

THEPalchuk: Pick us up in one hour?

THEPalchuk: Thanks you’re the best!

Great, like he wasn’t currently questioning his flirting skills as much as his entire persona. What was left in his repertoire? Nothing was helping so far, maybe he needed another approach. What choice did he have though? His stories were usually somehow effective, being like Steve didn’t seem better, Mary just so happened to have guys always in line for her for whatever reason, what else could he…

“Johnson?” He held back another jump, because Krel was finally looking at him and it was progress and- “Would it be too much bother if I asked you to bring me back home?”

Oh. Oh.

In his head played the game over soundtrack from GoGo Sushi. Dang it. He wished he had more time to prepare for this day, but right now it felt like it was inevitable. He definitely did something, said something weird. Was there even a possibility in the first place? With someone like him? He had met Krel Tarron in between classes on a completely random day: the guy had completely destroyed Mrs. Janeth’s theory about triangles without breaking a sweat, had broken into the science lab apparently making a mess of the only functioning computer, and had gotten sent to the principal at the end of the day as a result, without getting into troubles afterwards. This guy had managed to be an absolute nonconformist and a shameless rebel… using math.

Yeah, he was on another level, there was no point. He was so going to scream at Steve on organizing this, it was meant to go bad. Worst of all, it didn’t feel like he could get over it anytime soon. Maybe because it was something that didn’t even start.

He started the car, holding back a sigh.

“No problem, right away.” Krel gave him a mild grateful smile, and Seamus felt the urge to cry.

The trip back was somehow even more awkward than the hour spent waiting. Not necessarily for the deadly silence still permeating the car, mostly for the amount of thoughts that were running wildly into his head. What now? He didn’t even know if the Cantaloupian had noticed his attempts at flirting, did he reject him or was he simply so bored he couldn’t take it anymore? Did it matter? The natural consequence was to stay as far away as possible and ignore his entire existence during high school, then get into the furthest college possible – Australia sounded good – and forget about finding love forever. Sure Krel was in most of his classes, and that guy was most likely going to be an Elite student with him and Claire, which meant they were going to be paired up for some stupid vanity event of the school; also he happened to be his best friend’s girlfriend’s brother, so no way it was the last he was ever going to see him, but he could deal with it.

He could… deal with it…

… he didn’t want to, though. He didn’t want to stop talking to him or stop wishing to talk to him. That guy was in sync with his friends, he was so smart it was unbelievable, he was fun to be around and even right now that the embarrassment was at its peak, Seamus couldn’t help noticing how pretty he was, somehow even in the act of ignoring his existence. In light of all of this, was this really the only way to go? It always was with the other guys…

There was a stop ahead. He respected it, lightly biting his lip. No, with all the others he never made contact after failure because he never cared for it, because they weren’t good people, and because he didn’t want to admit how much he had made up for the sake of one terrible date. He could reach a compromise, right? To be able to talk with him. Nothing in between, only the truth.

His very dorky, uncool truth.

He continued to drive, pondering over everything, only to notice a parking spot next to the crosswalk. He went, noticing the other’s weird look on him. He hurried to speak before he could.

“I’ve never been at the tryouts.” Krel fully turned to him, eyes widened.

“… what?” Seamus winced, rubbing his neck.

“The basketball thing? I never did it. I wanted to, I’m really not bad at it… but I didn’t finish homework for that day and my dad didn’t let me.” Ah, there it came, the absolute shame – gently provided by Mr. Johnson, trademark. “The grades stuff, that’s kinda the excuse I always use whenever someone ask me why I’m not in the team. It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s better than saying I have no freedom at all.” The Cantaloupian looked baffled. The blonde took it as a chance to keep going. “As for the principal call, you wanna actually know the secret? I was never in trouble in the first place, Mrs. Janeth wanted to personally congratulate for making it into the International Mathematical Olympiad. I didn’t want people to think I was lame.” Gosh it burned. It felt kinda nice but it was also awful. He sighed at the end, pointing at his temple. “And about this? The fight? As if, I tripped on my way to the planetarium… because I love space… and there people don’t make fun of me for it.” Oh. He didn’t mean that last one, he didn’t want it to hurt. It still did. Not even Steve or Logan knew why he had been keeping his passion lowkey only for close friends.

It was good… it was good, right? It was as genuine as he could get, because despite everything he still wanted to be able to look at him in the eyes without second guessing himself. He was a lame-o who could barely do anything without his dad’s approval, he was an absolute nerd who was good at math only because he had to, and he was a dork with an absolute passion for space that got him so much mockery in the past, before he started to mock back.

A leaf flew over the windshield of the car. He could feel his sweat turning into ice. Was it too late after all? He lost his chance with Krel even at being a friend? He could feel his eyes on him.

It was silence. Then, a long sigh of relief came from him.

“Oh thank Seklos, I was convinced you were being serious before.”

… huh?

“Huh?” He looked at him. Krel was smiling. He was… smiling? “Before?”

“You were turning into an even bigger oaf than Steve is, which is quite the accomplishment let me tell you.” He looked down, finally putting away his phone. Despite wishing for it the entire time, Seamus felt a wave of anxiety rushing over. “I knew for a fact that I was going to be in your company during the entire time, given that the Staja is a force too chaotic to be around without risking someone’s life.” Despite the tension the blonde snorted. The Cantaloupian seemed to like that. “I was even looking forward to it. I’ve always wondered about the sleeping guy from class.”

Holy. Freaking. Mole.

Seamus was agape, he was pretty sure his jaw was dislocated without repair. He wasn’t sure if this was actually happening, or the last sniff of pollen had put him into a state of hallucination – he didn’t mind trading an anaphylactic shock for this. He managed to breathe again after a while, trying to remember how to speak words.

“Wait- You- I… you were watching me too?” Ah, why the too, why did he have to admit of staring at him while trying to stay awake during class? Why was he such a-

Wow. Wow. Was that embarrassment?

Coming from the prideful Krel Tarron?

“I was… mildly checking.” Okay, this was definitely a coma-induced dream, no way he was that lucky – and could this guy stop looking this adorably shy, he needed his heart to come back to life. “You always raise your hand when Mrs. Janeth asks something, even before the question has been said. You seem to be constantly bored during the lesson, which I can completely understand. You seem to be one of the few people who can at least dream to measure up with me in regard of intellect.” Mm, maybe this was actually real, somehow that came out extremely irritating and incredibly endearing at the same time. “I was interested into knowing that person tonight… I have not seen him for now.” His eyes went down, a little bitterly.

He was going to care about that in a moment. First, his mind needed to compute. What was happening here? Were Steve and Logan into this? Were they following him with a black car from afar ready to scare the crap out of him as soon as he was going to believe that a guy this cool actually wanted to know the real him?

… jeez, he really needed to work onto his self-esteem.

Besides, it was Krel, the frankest person he had ever met. There was no way he was pretending, he was so sure it almost scared him.

Apparently, this was happening, this was a meeting of some sort. One that for now, he had been screwing up big time. He was trying so hard to be liked, trying the best that had worked before, but did it work really? He had never actually been in a relationship, every single guy had evaporated as soon as they had found something better to do than hang out with this weird space nerd. Instead, Krel was waiting. Krel was there to actually know about that part of him.

The real him.

“… are you really in a hurry to come back home?” He got a confused stare. But if he really had something close to a chance, he was fine with making it interesting. “In case not… could I arrange a meeting?” He forced a very nervous smile. “Between you and him?”

Krel looked at him in surprise.

Then he smiled. He smiled.

“Alright, one more chance. Make it count, Johnson.”

His father would have not liked how fast he was driving, even while making sure to respect all signs – he wasn’t that reckless, even if the idea of bothering his old man was tempting. It wasn’t a long trip anyway, he knew the way by heart at this point. Arcadia soon got less lived around them and started to raise up, into a road leading higher and higher while surrounded by those dang trees. His passenger was looking out of the window, clearly curious but without asking a single thing. Seamus didn’t mind it. Maybe he just wanted to appreciate the moment for now, having him intrigued by the situation, before something went wrong again.

No. No. No more screwing everything, not this time. He could make this work.

The planetarium was there almost too soon, as he had only started to notice the eyes of the Cantaloupian occasionally drifting from the glass to him, equally intense. He placed the car into a completely empty parking lot, got out and breathed in. At least here there was way less vegetation, he could almost take a full breath without coughing. He quickly went over Krel’s side, opening the door for him and offering his hand.

He got a weird look in return, a little smile and a tan hand into his. Seamus really didn’t want this to be the first and last time.

“Have you ever been at Arcadia’s planetarium?”

“I am familiar, not a frequent visitor though. I was here for the Science Fair, and once in the first days since I land- got here.” He stumbled a little and focused on looking around, frowning. “I did not find anything particularly interesting though. Only incorrect.”

“Oh, if you’re up for a conversation about mistakes made into the planetary system I’m all ears, but let’s get inside first. I’m bringing you somewhere special.” He walked towards the building, aiming for the back of it, hoping that the occasional cat had decided to do its stuff somewhere else, at least for tonight. Only halfway there it hit him that their hands were still united. He was actually holding his hand. The realization made his body tremble. “Huh, I…” He looked over his shoulder, trying to think how to ask someone if it was okay to hold hands while already doing it in order not to make him go away – why was his brain always this convoluted?

Krel blinked at him, with those pretty brown eyes of his. There was such a control into those irises, smarts and brilliance but not only. It was the kind of look that had seen much, stuff he probably couldn’t even understand. There was simply something that made him want to know more about him.

He clenched his hold. Seamus could feel his heart doing backflips.

“What is it?” This mischievous genius smirked. Absolutely aware. What a day was this day.

“… nothing.” Seamus grinned back, starting to accept that from now on everything was going to be absolutely mind-blowing. “I have been here so many times, and if I know something is that the employees here are… really bad at their job.” He eyed the backdoor. Then the doormat. A freaking doormat, what a cliché. “I swear, one could break in and they would barely notice.” Reluctantly he let go of his hand, slipped it underneath the obvious hiding spot and got the key.

“That is really careless. Although having access to this place could be useful, I did see some interesting components for potential devices last time I was here.”

“Dang, you’re a dangerous one… wait, you’re an inventor?”

“In a way, I’m mostly an engineer.” Total. Heart eyes. “How did you discover this entrance?”

“I used to be a kid who barely had friends, hate with passion staying at my own house and I wished for nothing more than to climb onto a rocket and leave the planet to explore the entire galaxy.” Huh. It used to sound way less edgy when he was younger. “At some point dad discovered that he could leave me here with an adult and he was able to go by his day doing business or whatever without a problem, so I spent a lot of time around here. It gets easier to discover tricks when you’re a kid.” He unlocked the door, bowing at the other. “After you, Mr. Rebel.”

Krel rolled his eyes with a smirk, getting in.

It was as silent and dark as he expected it to be. Also empty, as he expected the nightguard had ditched his job once again – he mentally thanked his careless of tonight. He had been there enough to memorize even the vague noise of the neon, it was echoing into his ears even now that the lights were off. He took out his phone, brightening the way for them to walk. He barely had to think about it, his feet already knew where to step and what poster to pass by, even in complete darkness. His attention was mostly on the guy following him anyway… he was bringing a guy to his special place. He was bringing a guy into his stupidly nerdy corner in this stupidly nerdy place he had adored ever since he was a kid. He was actually doing it.

Wow, Mary would have screamed murder at him for being this uncool. He decided he could deal with her fits later. For now, the projector room.

It pleased him the look of Krel’s face, as it was genuinely the first time he had been there. There were so many seats, the projector was in the middle of the room. It was dark, but the glass dome above them gave a bit of a view over the night sky. Nothing else, absolute simplicity. It was so peaceful here. It made him sigh of relief every single time.

Right now though, it was enough silence to hear his own heartbeats, as the Cantaloupian’s curious eyes went all over the room. He really wanted to be up to his expectations.

“Fascinating.” He looked up to the sky view. “What is the purpose of this place?”

“You’ll see.” Seamus took off that awful jacket of his with a certain satisfaction and put it onto one of the seats. He patted the one next to him. “Give me a moment.” Krel obeyed, taking place, while the blonde went over the controls. He had seen it plenty of times, he had done it as well. Only a few controllers, along with the audio guide. “Get ready for the show!” He hurried to take place where he had left the piece of clothes, deliberately sitting on it – he never wanted to see it again, at least until winder, screw being cool or whatever.

A very familiar excitement took over when the first stars appeared, manifesting the galaxy as a whole. So many points made of light, further than his mind could ever go, yet so reachable in a way his mind couldn’t explain. Soon enough planets came into view as well, Saturn first in all of its beauty, showcasing the rings into the black space.

He took a breath, feeling the familiarity of the place… and something more.

“Space, the ever-present dome of endless wonder,” The audio guide roared through the video, toning it down a little had been a good idea. He remembered when he was a kid, and he had been so conflicted between putting his hands over his ears or risking becoming deaf only for the sake of knowing more about the universe. “And just when you think the universe can’t get any more mysterious…” He knew that explanation by heart at this point.

So he noticed the change nearby. He thought he was imagining it, because it wasn’t the first time the thought had hit him. Then his fingers met others, his heart screamed, and he decided that no dream of his had ever been this vivid.

“I like this place.” Krel was talking softly, close to his ear. It sent a shiver onto his back.

“H-happy to hear.” He let their fingers intertwine, trying to focus less on how everything could end up so horribly and more on how enjoyable everything was. He could live this moment, without thinking of the bad possible outcome. “… you know, the planets got colored like that to appeal the kids I think. The first time I watched it I’ve already studied my kiddie book about planets, and I was so disappointed that they weren’t being accurate.” He snickered, letting his eyes wander on how the celestial corpses were moving in circles. “Thinking that there is so much out there…”

“Yeah… so much.” Krel breathed out. “Galaxies so distant, Earth might never get the chance to reach. Everything is so far from everything here.” His tone had gone down a little, pensive.

The audio guide continued, Seamus was unconsciously moving his mouth along the description that was already stuck into his head. Krel had gone completely silent, even though his warm was still into his. The blonde had no idea what was going on in that impressive brain of his, but whatever it was, he didn’t want to stay away from it.

With his free hand he pointed at the projection, the fragment with all the stars.

“You know, I used to think that space was a little scary. It’s so vast and we humans will probably never live long enough to see it all.” He smiled, remember the stories about the stars his mom used to read for him. “Then I discovered how far stars are, and that from every single planet of the Milky Way the constellations all look the same. It’s like they reach all those places.”

“… what about beyond that?” Krel swallowed, clenching his hold. “What if there are even further planets out there?”

“Well, stars are many lightyears away from here, and one lightyear is 5.8 trillion miles. That’s one heck of a trip.” He got a look that said ‘I knew that’ and laughed, making him smile a little too. “All I’m saying is that, at least for a part of the galaxy, the sky will look the same. And even if we discovered even further away planets where they don’t know about Andromeda or Sagittarius, there will be other stars over there, reaching out for other places, but stars nonetheless.” The projection changed again, coming back to Earth. “As far as one can go, there are still things that feels like home, you know? That’s why, even though it’s terrifying, I kind of can’t wait to know if there’s more out there.” His throat felt lighter. Oh. He had rarely ever been able to say, was this ok-

Oh. Oh. He was wrong, Krel had never smiled before, not this evening, not even a single time. Because this was his real smile, a radiant curve with those lucid eyes, reflecting the light of the projector. He turned to him, and Seamus almost gasped out of the view alone.

Beautiful. Krel Tarron was really beautiful.

“That is a comforting thought.” His voice wasn’t far anymore, it got back some vigor. “So, this is the real you?” Seamus swallowed. Right, it all came down to that.

“I guess so… yeah, pretty much.”

“Good. I like this Seamus much better than the other one.” Okay, calm down. He was simply making a comparison with how jerky he was before. No need to get all riled up by his wording. “Although I am not completely convinced about the situation, perhaps this matter needs to be deepen on another occasion. Perhaps in another place, at another time… with the two of us.” Okay, no calming down, forget all the rationality he was so going to freak out.

It took him a moment. Then, mustering all of his courage at facing the last doubt that he was going to get slapped or laughed at as soon as he turned, he looked at the guy sitting next to him. No laugh. No slap. Not at all.

“Does… does that mean… another date? A-a proper one?” The Cantaloupian’s shrug said maybe, his extremely wide grin said yes. Seamus was too happy to care about the mocking intention. “Huh, uh, uhm.” Answer stupid, answer! “Yes. That is… sure, why not, it sounds good.” He so needed to work on his communication skills, especially since he was about to meet him so much more from now on – holy everything he just got a date out of Krel Tarron didn’t he. “I can pick you up one of these days, we can go to Sam’s or something…” Wow, a diner, such a romantic place for a date. “O-or something else, maybe I should ask Steve about idea- Oh, dang it!”

Krel’s expression fell. Oh, apparently he wasn’t the only one questioning himself.

“What is it? Is it no good?”

“Oh, no way, it’s nothing! I’m happy!” He straightened his back, glad that they were still holding hands despite everything. “It’s just that… urgh, I hate when Steve’s right about something, he gets super unbearable. Now the fact that he arranged the whole thing and it actually worked will be his biggest accomplishment, not looking forward to that.” He could already see the t-shirts ‘I got this buttsnack a date’ with his face on it. With that being said, it seemed almost an overly fair trade, weeks of mockery coming from that guy for a single date with the Cantaloupian.

Who was staring at him with an arched brow, slowly straightening his back with a wince – yeah, his own back wasn’t doing much better, these chairs were pretty uncomfortable.

“What do you mean he arranged this?” How subtle Steve was?… could Steve actually be subtle?

“Well, you know, it’s pretty evident.” Seamus scratched his cheek with his free hand, laughing a little. “He was the one knowing about my… uhm, interest in you.” Nice understatement. Those brown eyes widened. “The day I offer him a lift with my car you come along, there’s not much else to deduce here.” It was weird that someone this observant hadn’t noticed the coincidence.

Krel was smiling, again, and his cheeks were lightly red. It almost stopped his heart. Then he frowned, like another thought had taken over his more pleasant one.

“You think Steve pushed me to come today?” Seamus blinked. That was a weirdly worded question. He simply nodded. “What makes you think that?”

“Please, that guy would do anything to make me in the situation to make an absolute fool of myself! Granted, I didn’t need much of his help at this turn.” Krel was still blinking, looking baffled. “Besides, who else would’ve cared for this? I don’t think your sister knew about me, Logan is out of the picture tonight, and I’d be terrified if Mary actually managed to be involved without… what? What is it?” The guy was staring so intently, it was hard keeping track with that kind of look.

The hold clenched again. Krel was focused on nothing but him.

“I am simply a little taken back. I thought the fact that I came along only when you were there would have given away my intentions.” His inten- Oh. Oh. That syllabus must had shown onto his face because Krel laughed. He laughed and it was beautiful, even though his brain was having a grand hard time at functioning. “Steve simply said you were there to give him a ride, it was a good occasion. A plan of mine at least.” Still not functioning. “Speaking of, perhaps we should let them know we might be a little late at picking them up. I am in no hurry to leave anymore.” Still hardly understanding. “You are perhaps a little less brilliant than you think you are, Seamus Johnson.” Still non computing. Krel stared at him, right into his eyes. “But you are a nicer company than you might believe to be.” He got closer. Not functioning, not computing not-

Cheek, kiss.

Kiss cheek, cheeky kiss, kiss on the cheek with kiss-

Krel was kissing his cheek.

It was warm and soft, and it made his brain absolute short-circuit. Their noses almost brushed when he pulled away, and Krel’s hair moved a little, lightly smelling like metal. He was an inventor, he said. What else? What else was this person was? He really wanted to know, he really wanted to ask. All he could muster right now though was some sort of whimper, that made the Cantaloupian giggle some more, before getting back on his seat while still holding his hand.

The audio guide’s voice was still as powerful as ever, and at the meteor section something into his head woke up. Seamus realized that, once again, he wasn’t hallucinating. He couldn’t reach his warm cheek with his free hand without looking incredibly awkward but it was fine. It was okay, absolutely okay, and he couldn’t stop grinning because of it.

Turned out, it wasn’t Steve’s fault. It was Krel’s fault.

He was more than happy to go along with it.

[starshine583]

Crossing a Line (18)

(I’m just gonna keep changing the title set up until I’m satisfied lol anyway, enjoy reading chapter 18 of the Le Paon AU as the tension rises!)

Part 1 / Part 17 / Part 19

The lead of the pencil scratched across the paper as Marinette drew another flower. True to his word, Felix had passed her classroom after each period, subtly giving her a nod or wave to acknowledge the check in. Marinette decided to mark off the classes by drawing flowers. That way, anyone- *cough* Alya *cough* -watching would think she was just doodling. The strategy’s worked well so far, and now she only had one class left before lunch.

Marinette pulled her lip between her teeth and reached down to fiddle with the peacock miraculous again. She’d hardly let it go since her confrontation with Felix. He seemed genuinely surprised about the consequences of the wish, but she’d seen too many ‘genuine’ things from him to trust that again. So It helped ease her mind a bit knowing that Felix was currently powerless. If he did intend on twisting the odds again, he’d have to jump through a few more hoops than before. 

That begs the question, though: If Felix was telling the truth, what happens next? She’ll get back her miraculous and heal Emilie, but will Felix keep fighting with Hawk Moth? What if he still felt a morbid sense of loyalty towards the terrorist? What if Hawkmoth pressures him to get the miraculous anyway as payback for the peacock miraculous? Does this whole fiasco boil down to what Hawkmoth really wants?

“Hey, girl! You ready for lunch?” Alya asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Marinette blinked. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, it’s time for our lunch break.”

Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were already filing out of the classroom. Was class over? She didn’t realize she’d spaced out that long.

“Anyway, I was thinking of the park? We haven’t eaten there in a while.” Alya continued thoughtfully.

“Oh, actually,” Marinette said, “I’m eating lunch with Felix today.”

She held back a wince when Alya’s gaze snapped to hers. “You’re what?”

“Yeah..” Marinette sighed, standing up to gather her things. “He- um -we have a few fashion things to talk about? So we decided to eat lunch together.”

“And when were you going to tell me?” Alya asked, clearly offended that she’d been left out of the loop.

“It only just happened this morning.” Marinette offered sheepishly. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Please don’t make it that big of a deal.

“What? Girl, that’s a big score! Even if it’s not an official date, it’s still lunch together!” Alya insisted, now getting giddy with the news. Great. “I’ll forgive you for forgetting to tell me, but I want all the deets afterwards as an apology!”

Marinette plastered on a smile. She couldn’t blame her best friend for accidentally hitting a sore spot. Her romantic feelings for Felix fading away because of a betrayal involving both of their miraculous is a scoop that even Alya couldn’t have guessed. Marinette didn’t guess it either. “Sure, Alya.”

The two girls said their goodbyes, and Alya pranced off to tell the rest of the girl gang about Marinette’s “unofficial date” with Felix. It was a hollowing feeling, watching everyone get to live their lives as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. Marinette was barely holding it together, fueled by her rage and determination alone, and no one knew. Well, no one except Felix, but he’d been the cause of the damage. That wasn’t exactly a comfort for her. Will she have to act like nothing’s happened between them for the rest of her life? That will be hard considering Alya and the others are still trying to push them together.

Marinette checked her phone as she walked towards the cafeteria. She’d tried to call Chat Noir as Jiāng húlí several times, but he must not have been transformed. It went straight to voicemail. She had to give Master Fu the fox miraculous soon after, so she crossed her fingers that he might get the message of her distress and contact her.

A part of her wondered what he would say if he knew what had happened. He’d been the first to warn her, after all. He told her that Le Paon wasn’t to be trusted, and what did she do? She threw away the statements without a second thought. All because of some fickle emotions. At least she’d learned her lesson: Villains can shine and sparkle like heroes (or more) as much as they want, but at the end of the day.. At the end of the day, they’re just that. Villains. 

Felix may sound sweet and worried, and she may still be in love with him to an agonizing amount, but Marinette is committed to not learning that lesson a second time.

~~~~~~

Felix brushed a hand against his vest as he slipped his tablet into his bag. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d grown to wearing the peacock miraculous. Without it on, his outfit felt.. incomplete. 

“Do you think we can make it to that restaurant in time?” Allegra asked to no one in particular, wrapping her purse around her shoulder.

“If Felix gets his driver to take us.” Claude replied with a smile.

Felix glanced up from his bag. “Oh, I can’t join you for lunch today.”

Claude snorted. “Come on, Fe, you can’t get out of it that easily.”

“Yeah, you should have learned that when you tried a lame excuse last semester.” Allan added with a smile.

Felix rolled his eyes. “No, I really can’t. I’m having lunch with Marinette today.”

The group paused, their eyes widening from shock.

Then-

“What?!” Claude burst out.

“You finally got together!” Allegra cheered. 

“When did that happen?” Allan asked.

Felix waved down their reactions, along with his own guilt. “It’s not like that. In fact, I..”

Her near-murderous glare resurfaced in his mind.

“I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.” He admitted softly.

The group frowned, each sharing a look with the other.

“But you guys are perfect together.” Allegra attempted to console. “You’ve gotten along wonderfully so far.”

“She accepted your offer to lunch, right?” Claude added. “That’s a good sign.”

Felix held back a bitter laugh. They were not talking about the same situation.

Allan gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Don’t worry, man. If you love her, and she loves you, everything will turn out fine.”

But is love enough to overcome betrayal?

He hoped he was wrong when he said he didn’t think so.

“I’ll see you after lunch.” Was all Felix ended up muttering. Marinette would be waiting for him. No need to break her trust in him further, if that was even possible. 

“Bye..” Allegra said, a hint of concern in her tone. Felix was concerned too. Not only had he lied to Father about his knowledge of Ladybug’s identity, he had secretly stolen Ladybug’s earrings, and now he was giving them back, all without Father's consent. This was no doubt the best course of action, but that didn’t mean the consequences would be any less severe. Felix imagined he’d be pulled from school when Father found out and grounded from everything. Marinette would most certainly be banned from their premises a second time. 

He’d backed himself into a corner, and the only option now was to race against the clock and heal Emilie before Gabriel could figure out their plan and unleash his rage. 

-

Courage was the first thing to go as Felix approached Marinette’s table. She’d chosen to eat outside, taking the table furthest from the school grounds. It gave them the most privacy without actually leaving. He wouldn’t expect anything less from the clever Ladybug, but it pained him that she felt the need to take such precautions. 

Quietly, he set his bag on the ground next to the chair across from her and sat down. Marinette didn’t react. She merely sat there scribbling something in a notebook. He peered over the paper as best he could without standing and managed to catch a couple of words.

Escape Plan.

Felix looked down at his hands, shame churning and twisting inside him. So there really was no trust left between them, huh?

“How were your classes?” He asked, if only to break the soul-crushing silence.

Marinette shot him a glare immediately. “Don’t act like you care.”

Felix tensed. “I-” I do care. So much. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

Marinette scoffed and set down her pencil. Or rather, slammed it on the table in annoyance. “You want to talk? Fine. Who’s Hawkmoth? How did you two become partners?”

Felix grimaced. She always managed to ask the hardest questions. “That’s a.. long story.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes, and he could tell he’d given the wrong answer. What else could he do, though? Hawkmoth was his Father. Felix couldn’t just give him up.

“Fine.” She said, pure agitation in her voice now. “How did you know who I was? What gave me away.” 

“Ah, well..” He might as well tell her, right? They both knew each other’s identities so what was the harm? “Yesterday, after the akuma attack, I saw you swinging off alone and thought I’d follow you-”

“Wait.” Marinette interrupted, her eyebrows knitted together. “Did you say yesterday?”

Felix nodded. “We’d been planning to follow you for a while, but Chat Noir always got in the way. Yesterday was the first time I’d been able to catch you alone. That’s when I saw you transform.”

A mix of emotions washed over her features, mostly skepticism. “So you mean to tell me that you haven’t known Marinette was Ladybug this whole time? That you only found out last night, a few hours before you stole my miraculous?”

Now Felix was frowning. “Yes? Did you think I would risk saving you or coming to your house as Le Paon if I knew you were Ladybug? I can be reckless, but I’m not that reckless.”

Marinette didn’t reply. She stared down at her notebook, lost in deep thought. When she finally spoke, though, it was soft, and he almost had to lean forward to hear it. 

“Then why?”

“Pardon?” What did she mean ‘why’?

Marinette looked up, and Felix’s heart sank when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. 

“Why?” She repeated, harsher and louder than before. “Why waste all those nights coming to my house or talking with me at school if you didn’t know who I was? What was the point if not to get close enough to take the earrings for the wish?” 

“Marinette, I..” Felix trailed off, frozen by her sudden grief. She looked so desperate, so broken, and he did this to her. 

He reached out to her, touched her hand to comfort or relieve or something, but she pulled away.

“Why say you love me,” She whispered, looking back down at her notebook, “if you didn’t mean it?”

Felix almost shot out of his chair at the accusation. Was this what she’d been telling herself since yesterday? That all of their times together, their not-quite-dates, their kiss, his love.. was some sort of elaborate lie to get jewelry? No wonder she was furious! He’d be beside himself if he found out she was lying to him like that!

“Marinette,” He began carefully, “I know our friendship is currently unpleasant and shaky at best, but please trust me when I say that I meant every word I said to you.” 

Marinette sniffed and brushed a few stray tears away. Each one dropped another anchor on Felix’s heart. 

“How can I?” She asked after a moment. “How can I trust you when you didn’t trust me? We spent months together, Felix! We had sleepovers and deep, late night talks and ate ice cream together and supported each other over everything. After all of that, why would you-” Her quiet sob cut her short, and she shook her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Now that was a question. Why didn’t he just talk to her? He thought he was avoiding hurt by taking the earrings quickly, but that obviously failed. He may have avoided physical injuries, but he’d much rather those at this point. 

No, the real reason was that Felix didn’t want to be torn over whether he should continue to save his mother or not. He had the miraculous. He had the wish. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel and didn’t want to know if the light would be dimmer than he’d originally thought.

“I was a coward.” He admitted, burying his hand in his hair. “After missing my Mother and wishing her back for so long, I was afraid of what you would tell me when I told you the truth. I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that the miraculous might not bring her back.”

Gosh, he’d made so many mistakes. He shouldn’t have accepted the peacock miraculous. He shouldn’t have let his Father terrorize the city for so long in a misguided cause. He shouldn’t have procrastinated about talking to Ladybug for possible peace. He shouldn’t have kept fighting when he learned that Adrien was Chat Noir. He shouldn’t have taken Marinette’s earrings when he learned the truth. He just shouldn’t have.

Marinette sighed, bringing him from his thoughts. “Okay.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Okay?”

Marinette brushed the last bit of tears from her eyes and nodded. “I can’t say that I completely trust you yet, but.. If you’re serious about this, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Felix’s heart skipped a beat.

“T-That’s all I need!” He promised. Talking with him during lunch had been better than he’d dreamed. Giving him another chance was an absolute miracle for him. “Thank you.”

Marinette didn’t answer. With the conversation more or less finished, she pulled out her lunch box to start eating. It was then that Felix’s own stomach growled, and he coughed. The tension from their predicament caused him to forget the reason they were able to meet outside and talk in the first place.

“So.. I have a question.” Felix said as he pulled out his own lunch. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Marinette briefly glanced up from her soup. “..I guess.” 

Felix drew in a small breath. “Assuming you didn’t follow me like I did you.. how did you know who I was?”

Marinette jokingly sucked in a breath between her teeth, giving a ‘yikes’ expression. “Yeah~ my discovery wasn’t as nice as a simple stalking.”

Felix smiled. Seeing her jest brought him a small, renewed sense of hope that everything might turn out okay between them after all. “So? What happened?”

“Remember that night you came to my house after getting shot?” 

He actually grimaced and touched his side. “Do I? If I didn’t have Duusu, I’d still be wincing every time I breathed.”

“About that..” Marinette said, pulling on her pigtail slightly. “I may or may not have actually been the one to heal you.”

Felix blinked. That.. that made a lot of sense. “But Duusu never mentioned anything about you healing me?”

Marinette dropped her pigtail to push her fingers together as she explained, “When you passed out on my bed, you ended up detransforming too. That’s how I figured out your identity. Of course, I freaked out a bit, but you were still bleeding so I put that aside for the time being.”

A small smile crossed Felix’s lips. Only Marinette could push through a ‘huge reveal’ like that and talk as if it were nothing.

“It was around that time that my powers activated and healed your wound. Duusu was very sweet about the whole thing, and after a small conversation, she promised not to say anything unless you asked specifically.” Marinette finished. “You have no idea how frustrating it was. I couldn’t talk to you about the miraculous because I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet, but you wouldn’t talk to Ladybug.”

Felix let out a sheepish laugh. “Right.. I’m sorry I put you through that.” 

Marinette shrugged. “Can’t take it back now.”

Felix nodded. No matter the amount of regret and guilt welling up inside him, he couldn’t change the past. He supposed he could soothe himself by saying it wasn’t all bad, though. Taking the peacock miraculous was undoubtedly a horrible decision, but it led to him seeing Marinette on a more personal level, which then led to a more personal friendship between them. Well, for him it did. She wasn’t aware of his identity at the time.

“Hold on.” Felix spoke up, sitting up slightly at his miniature revelation. “You said you figured out my identity when I passed out from the gunshot. That means you knew who I was when I kissed you.”

A blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks. “Well.. yes.”

“And you kissed me back.”

Her blush deepened. “Yep.”

Felix’s heart pounded in his chest. “So.. what does that mean?”

It was selfish and unfair to ask her such questions during these trying times, and some might say it should be obvious by now, but he wanted- no, he needed the confirmation. Did she love him or not?

“I..” Marinette fiddled with her utensil as she searched for words. “It’s complicated. I can’t say that I don’t love you-”

Felix sucked in a quiet breath. 

“-but it’s different now.” She answered honestly. “I just.. I need time. I’m still on the edge because of what you did, you know?” 

“Take all the time you need.” Felix responded, hoping his eagerness didn’t bleed through his voice. Marinette loved him! I mean, they’ve already kissed, like, twice, but still! Just to hear it from her lips made his heart nearly burst. 

A small smile graced Marinette’s lips, and she went back to eating, as Felix did a moment later. It was hard to eat when one’s entire body was buzzing with euphoria, though.

The bell rang a few minutes later, causing them to say their farewells to each other and separate. Felix knew there were still a decent amount of trials left to face before this was over, but after that confession.. He couldn’t help feeling a tad optimistic.

~~~~~~

It was commonplace for students to flood out of the classroom at the end of their last class, and although Marinette usually picked up the pace to leave, she was certain she’d made record time that day. Felix must have had the same idea, because he was at her side within seconds as well. She offered him a small glance, acknowledging his presence, but nothing more. 

The conversation they’d shared over lunch had been relieving to say the least. When he essentially told her that he still loved her, she nearly sank to the floor with the amount of weight that’d been suddenly lifted from her shoulders. That meant this dwindled down to Felix wanting to save his Mother and making the wrong decision to do so. However, Marinette didn’t want to let her guard down just yet. She had no way of knowing how informed Hawkmoth was on the situation. Even if Felix means well, there might be traps lying ahead of her at the Agreste Mansion that he’s unaware of. 

“By the way,” Felix spoke up, earning her gaze again, “Father may or may not have banned you from our house after your last visit, meaning we’ll have to be careful about your entrance.” 

Marinette pursed her lips. That probably shouldn’t surprise her. “When did this ‘banishment’ happen?”

Felix’s eyes flicked up briefly in thought. “Uh.. I think a few weeks ago? I meant to tell you before today, but things kept coming up.”

Marinette hummed, knowing the exact ‘things’ he was referring to.

“Oh, Marinette’s coming with us today?” 

Marinette turned to the new voice and saw Adrien exiting the classroom. She almost forgot that he’d be riding with them.

“She wanted to borrow a book from our Library,” Felix answered smoothly, “So I invited her over.”

Adrien smiled. “Great! I have to practice piano, but I trust Felix to help you out.” 

“Thanks.” Marinette said politely. I hope I can trust him too.

“So how did you get Father to agree to this?” Adrien asked next, mostly facing Felix now.

Marinette didn’t miss the subtle look of agitation that Felix shot his brother. 

“He doesn’t know.”

Adrien’s eyes widened, and an amused smirk slipped onto his lips. “Oh? How do you plan to get her inside then?”

Marinette crossed her arms, a smirk of her own creeping up. She’d like to know that answer as well.

Felix playfully rolled his eyes. “I have my ways.”

-

A shiver ran up Marinette’s spine as Felix led her through the back entrance to the Agreste Mansion. Who would’ve thought that the only secret way in and out was a walk-in freezer that connected to the outside world? It made her wonder how Felix managed to come across this little escape tactic. Was it pure coincidence? A mere observation when orders arrived? Or had he been actively searching for a hidden exit?

Goosebumps crawled across her skin, and she gave in slightly to the cold, letting herself shudder and rubbing her hands against her biceps for warmth.

Felix glanced over his shoulder at her, seeming blissfully untouched by the drop in temperature. “Are you cold?”

“What? Being cold in a freezer? Of course not! I was just about to take off my jacket.” Marinette retorted. 

Felix chuckled, his breath clouding in front of him. “I see we’ve resorted to sarcasm now? You must truly be at your limit.”

“Yes, it’s been a long day for all of us, I’m sure.” Marinette replied, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

Felix reached ahead and pushed open another metal door, revealing the kitchen area of the Mansion on the other side. Marinette didn’t hesitate to dash through the doorway. She shuddered again as the room temperature wrapped around her, neutralizing the previous chill of the air. Sweet, blessed heat.

“Is that better?” Felix asked, closing the metal door behind him.

Marinette nodded. “Much better, thank you.”

Felix offered a smile. “Of course. The library’s right around the corner.” 

The two made their way out of the kitchen and down the hall. Felix checked for Gabriel’s secretary or Gabriel himself, and when he called the all clear, they slipped into the library together. 

Marinette caught a glimpse of Adrien walking up the stairs as they moved. He noticed her too and shot her a wink. Marinette allowed herself a small smile at the sight. At least Adrien wasn’t knee-deep involved in this miraculous mess.

“Thank you for doing this.” Felix commented as he walked to one of the aisles. “It really does mean the world to me that you’re still willing to help Mother after everything we’ve done.”

Marinette shrugged, not missing the fact that he said ‘we’. It seemed strange that he would group Hawkmoth in with his actions in relation to his mother, as if this might have been a goal for his partner as well. “I’m the hero of Paris, right? I have a responsibility. I can’t just turn my back on the people who need me.”

Felix nodded. “Right..”

He stopped at the end of an aisle and brushed his fingers across the second to top shelf. Once he got to a certain point, Felix stopped and pulled out a couple of books. Behind the books lay a rectangle outline on the back of the shelf. Marinette watched with awe as he easily pulled the rectangle out of the wall, revealing a small drawer.

“When did you make that?” She asked, marveling at the detail.

“Well, when you have a Father like mine, you learn to-” Felix stopped short, his body stiffening.

Marinette frowned and took a step forward. “Felix? Are you okay?”

Felix didn’t respond, instead staring down at the drawer in disbelief. 

“They’re.. They’re gone.”

Marinette’s heart stopped.

“Gone?” She repeated. “What do you mean gone?”

“I-I mean gone!” Felix said, his voice quickly rising in panic. “They were right here! I put them in this pocket and went to bed, and I haven’t touched them since!”

Marinette to control her breathing as she took in his words. If the earrings weren’t here, where were they? “Felix, if this is some kind of trick-”

“No! I swear they were right here!”

“Indeed they were.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold when Gabriel’s voice rose behind them. Felix shot up as well, pure terror exploding across his face. The sight unnerved her to the core. She’d never seen Felix so scared.

“I’ll admit I’m impressed.” Gabriel mused. “That little drawer of yours is a magnificent hiding place. Had it not been for our security cameras, I don’t believe I would have found it.”

Marinette’s gaze flicked to the ceiling, where a tiny camera was placed. A touch of annoyance swirled through her mind. She should have known there would be cameras everywhere.

“I have to say I’m disappointed, Felix.” The man continued. “I gave you the opportunity to help your poor, sick Mother, and what do you do? You lie and go behind your own Father’s back. I wasn’t even aware you knew who Ladybug was, let alone that you got her earrings.”

Despite the fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through her, along with the steadily growing horror, Marinette turned to face Gabriel. The news that Felix had been acting of his own accord the entire time surprised her, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. Only two people aside from herself and Felix knew about Felix’s motives or the fact that he was Le Paon, and Gabriel Agreste certainly wasn’t Master Fu. 

“Hawkmoth.” She said, her hands clenching at her sides. It wasn’t a question.

Gabriel looked down at her, a disturbing, small smile creeping onto his lips. He didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest that she’d discovered his identity. 

She felt Felix take a step closer to her.

“Ah, Mlle. Dupain Cheng.” Gabriel purred. His eyes shined with absolute glee in a horrible, psychotic way, like he’d finally lured his prey into the perfect trap. “I thought I made it quite clear that you are not welcome on my estate, but my son clearly has trouble following the rules. However, I have to wonder: Why would he bring you to the miraculous’ hiding place? Perhaps Felix decided to show me Ladybug’s identity after all.”

“Father that’s enough.” Felix stated sternly, finally regaining his voice. He stepped around Marinette, putting a make-shift barrier between her and Gabriel. “There’s no need to fight. Marinette has a solution to heal Mother without the wish! She just needs her earrings back to do it.”

Gabriel scoffed, his smile immediately fading. “Don’t be naive. She only wants her earrings back! You think she won’t say anything to get them?”

Marinette saw the edges of Felix’s expression fall.

“Isn’t it worth trying?” He continued, his voice falling from stern to pleading. “We can’t use the wish, or someone else will get hurt. There’s a curse that comes with it. If we save her life with the wish, someone has to take her place.”

“You wouldn’t sacrifice anything to have her back? To be a family again?” Gabriel shot back. 

“Not when we don’t have to!” Felix countered. “We don’t even have Chat Noir’s ring yet. The least we can do is try to heal her peacefully without consequences!”

“So you’re choosing that brat over me? Your Father?” Gabriel asked, his eyes narrowing with disgust and disapproval. 

Felix clenched his fists. “You’re choosing to sacrifice someone’s life over saving everyone!”

“No.” Marinette spoke up, having enough. How could a father pull their own son into terrorist attacks? How could he push Felix into danger time and time again with no remorse? It was unspeakable!

She stepped forward and stood tall as she continued, “He only wants the power. This stopped being about Emilie and family a long time ago.”

Gabriel scowled. “How dare you question my integrity! Losing Emilie was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I will do anything to get her back!”

“Where are my miraculous?” She demanded, ignoring his ‘righteous fury’.

“Safe.” He responded sharply. “And out of your reach.”

“I won’t let you use the wish.”

A grim smile twisted onto Gabriel’s lips once more. “I’d like to see you try now that you’re powerless.”

Marinette was tempted to smile herself as she grabbed the peacock miraculous from her back pocket. “Not quite.”

Let’s see what Felix miraculous can really do.

Tag List:  @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @starlit-winter @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asianfrustration13  @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @make-the-stars-stay @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace​ @the-navistar-carol​ @sannsibarr​ @grumpy-vixen-kitten​ @hauntedfreakdeputyhero​ @utcaro​ @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @tori-mmm  @fifaanayd  @novicevoice  @dreamykitty25 @mischief-not-managed-posts @amayakans  @arsaem  @athena452 @pink-and-bunny

[quickspinner]

Blue Lightning

This is a sequel to Pink Frosting and while it should be mostly self-explanatory, it will make more sense if you read that story first.

Happy birthday to one of our lovely, dedicated fandom cheerleaders and fellow writer, @bloody-no-kissu! I'm a bit late but I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

This fic was inspired by a few things. One of the @mlweeklyprompts a few weeks back was Trope: Blankets/Shirt Collar Shifting Just Enough To Have Bandages Peeking Out, and there was also this really cool video of a strong lady dancing in roller skates going around, plus it was Bloody's birthday and she inspired the original Pink Frosting fic, so all of those influences just came together to inspire and motivate this fic. I hope you enjoy!

Read it on AO3 | Fiction Master Post

Luka hummed to himself as he left the boat, which wasn’t unusual, but there was an extra bounce in his step as he began the familiar trek to the T&S Bakery. Because it was Wednesday, and Wednesday was his unofficial date night with his extremely very official girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. The grin that split his face wasn’t at all in line with his reputation for being calm and easygoing. He and Marinette were dating. Luka would never get tired of that thought. He was dating Marinette and she was his girlfriend and it was everything he’d ever pictured in idle, wistful daydreams.

Man, he felt lucky. He’d been in love with Marinette for years, but no matter how close they became as friends, she never seemed ready to cross that line. Luka had just accepted that it wasn’t going to happen, and tried to just be the best friend he could be to her, right up until she flung herself right across that line and into his arms and kissed the daylights out of him. It still gave him goosebumps thinking about it, even though they’d been dating for months now.

Luka greeted Sabine on his way through the bakery, waving to Tom behind her, and then puffed his way up the frankly indecent number of stairs it took to reach Marinette’s room. Her door was open and he knew she was expecting him, so he just called a greeting as he peeked in cautiously. 

“Hi, Luka,” Marinette said distractedly. She was leaning half into her closet, reaching for something above her head. “One sec, I just need to get this down.” 

“Do you need a hand?” Luka asked, lips quirking in amusement as he came the rest of the way into the room. Marinette gave him a dirty look over her shoulder and he just grinned innocently back at her, folding his arms across his chest.

“No, I got it,” she grunted, rising up on her toes and catching the edge of the box with the tips of her fingers. Luka’s eyes automatically flicked to the hem of her shirt as it rode up, expecting a glimpse of toned muscle rippling under smooth skin, but that wasn’t the view he got. 

“Here we go,” Marinette sighed, bringing her heels back down and turning to set the box on her desk. 

Luka was beside her before he’d even made a conscious decision to move. He caught her arm and lifted it out of the way, pulling her shirt up to expose her side. 

“Luka!” she gasped, jerking away and shoving her shirt back down, but they both knew it was too late.  

Luka straightened and looked at her, lips tight. She blushed and folded her arms, turning away from him a little, tugging the hem of her shirt lower. Not that it mattered. He’d already seen, and as much as he preferred to let Marinette have her space and come to him when she was ready to talk about things...but, well, he was human, and seeing her hurt was not something he could just let go. 

“Marinette,” Luka said, his voice tight though he tried to keep it calm. “What happened?”

“Nothing important,” Marinette shrugged, and then she shrank under his gaze. “I just fell.” 

“How hard did you fall,” Luka asked, one fist clenching as bad memories flooded in, “That you needed bandages on your ribs?”

Marinette pressed her lips together and stepped back from him a little. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Maybe not,” he sighed, fighting the urge to catch her and pull her back. “I’d like to think by now you should have a little faith that I’ll try, though.” 

She blushed at that, and looked ashamed, her gaze falling to her feet. Luka sighed again and forced his fingers open, then tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. “Just tell me, Marinette,” he said, some of the hurt he was trying to hide seeping into his voice. “Do you really feel like whatever happened is so bad that you can’t share it with me? Haven’t I always supported you?”  

Her eyes flicked up to the pink-tipped locks falling over his forehead, and she flushed with shame. “Of course you have,” she murmured, shoulders slumping.

“Then please, trust that I’ll be here for you however you need,” Luka urged, letting his hand fall to take hers. He tugged her gently over to her chaise and they sat down together as Luka considered his words. “I’ve always tried to let you talk about things in your own time, but I’m really kind of scared right now. I haven’t seen you hide an injury like this since—” Since she’d been fighting supervillains and bullies on the regular. Not that he was supposed to know about that first part. “Since the bad days.”  

“No,” Marinette sighed, bringing her hands up to frame his face. “It’s not—not like that, Luka. It’s just...well...stupid. I feel stupid. I did something stupid and I didn’t want to tell you and now you’re upset with me.”

“I’m upset that you were hiding that you were hurt,” Luka told her, putting his hands over hers. “I—you know I hate to pressure you, but you’re hurt and I’m not feeling very reasonable about it.” 

Marinette chewed her lip and looked away with a sigh and a defeated expression. “It’s really not a big deal. Not like you’re thinking anyway. I really did just fall. On my skates.” 

Luka blinked. “Your roller skates?” he asked stupidly, and Marinette rolled her eyes at him.

“Yes, my roller skates. I was wearing pads but I...well I was trying a trick I saw one of the other girls do, but I didn’t land it, and I hit the rail on my side, and…” And she had enough experience with rib injuries after everything that happened that she’d just taped herself up and gone on. But— 

“So this happened at derby practice?” Luka asked, confused about why she would try to hide it, especially if the rest of the team knew.  

Marinette winced. “No. After derby practice. After everyone else was gone.” 

Luka’s frown deepened. “You tried a new trick without anyone spotting you? Without anyone even coaching you? While you were alone?” 

Marinette sighed, pulling her hands away and turning away from him. “And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” 

Luka sat there for a moment, lips pressed together, and then he stood up abruptly. “I need a minute,” he said shortly, crossing her room and jerking open the trap door. He went down the stairs quickly, and paced in the living room where he didn’t have to hide the thunderous expression on his face. Part of him wanted to yell at her, to lecture her, to tell her how stupid and irresponsible that had been, and what if she had hit her head and there had been no one there to find her? He knew from his own ice skating experience that you couldn’t just pick up a jump without coaching, without having someone to break it down for you and show you how to achieve it safely. 

And why would she do something like that, especially after how hard she had to work to convince her friends and family that she could be trusted on skates at all without killing herself? She finally convinced them, all of them, that she wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen, that she could actually be good at something physical. Luka had seen it; he’d been there at every bout and seen the way her friends had slowly gone from skepticism to grudging respect to enthusiasm. 

Finally, Luka stopped pacing and put his hands over his face, taking a moment to breathe and calm down. He needed to hear Marinette out and freaking out wasn’t going to do anybody any good. The last thing he wanted to do was damage her trust in him. 

She looked miserable when he came back into her room, curled in on herself, one hand on her injured side and staring at the floor. It broke his heart a little and Luka sighed to himself as he crossed over to her, sitting back down in his place beside her. He cupped her cheek and raised her face so he could look in her eyes. Her lashes were wet and he hated it. 

Luka leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she liked, but she only closed her eyes and let her cheek sink more solidly into his palm. Luka kissed her softly, and she pressed into him, clutching at his hoodie for a moment. He slipped his other arm carefully around her and focused on his feelings for her, kissing her as tenderly as he knew how. I’m here, he thought at her, I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe and I love you. I won’t leave you. 

Slowly she relaxed against him, tension easing out of her as they kissed and kissed again. She got like this, sometimes, afraid she would suddenly be too much for him, that he couldn’t possibly love her at her lowest—as if he hadn’t loved her through every up and down for years, even if they’d only gotten together recently. Luka was happy to reassure her in any way she needed. 

When the kissing wound down to an easy, natural end, Marinette buried her face in his shoulder. Luka held her, rubbing her upper back softly, staying well away from the bandages. “Can you tell me why now?” he asked softly, after a few minutes. 

Marinette groaned. “It’s stupid.” 

“Tell me anyway.”

Marinette sighed and pulled away from him, going over to grab her tablet from her desk. She brought it back with her and plopped down next to him, pulling up a video.

Luka watched the video, recognizing Marinette’s roller derby team by the uniforms, though the faces weren’t people he knew. They were on the rink but it wasn’t a bout; it looked more like a dance. The video shifted and showed what looked more like a skills drill, people weaving in and out of obstacles, cheering and showboating the whole time.

“The team—well, the whole league, actually—does exhibitions like this,” Marinette explained. “For fundraising or just to get their name out there. This one was a few years ago, but there’s one coming up soon. Some of the girls have been practicing some choreography and things for it, and I just...well that one—” she pointed to the video as a girl pulled off a trick that looked simple, though Luka doubted it really was. “I thought maybe I could do that one. I was the last one leaving the rink anyway, so I just...decided to give it a try.” She made a face. “Obviously, it didn’t go well.” 

“Did you tell anyone you wanted to learn some of these tricks?” Luka asked, frowning slightly. 

“No,” Marinette admitted quietly. “I guess I...well…I didn’t want any of them to see me mess up. They don’t know clumsy Marinette, except Alix, and I didn’t want to be that person anymore.” 

“Marinette,” Luka said softly, sliding his hand up to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s not clumsiness to fall when you try something new. I’ve fallen on the ice rink lots of times. It’s just part of the learning process. You’ve got plenty of strength and flexibility, it’s just teaching your body to do the right things in the right order. If you want to try and be part of the...exhibition team, or whatever you guys call it, then I think that’s a great idea. But I want you to do it safely. If you got hurt, it wasn’t because you aren’t capable, it’s because you didn’t have anyone there to teach you. Do you really think the team will laugh at you? Did they laugh at you when you were first learning to skate the incline rink?”

“No,” Marinette admitted, and then made a face. “Well, sometimes. But not in a mean way.”

Luka kissed her forehead softly. “And they won’t laugh at you in a mean way now. Even if you try and don’t like it, or you’re not any good—which I highly doubt since you’re amazing at everything you really put your mind to—they won’t tease you for it, will they? You’ve been so happy since you started doing roller derby, Marinette. If you want to get involved in more team activities I think that’s awesome.” Marinette gave him a tentative smile, and he smiled back. “If you want, I can come to your next practice. If you just want some moral support while you discuss it with the girls.” 

Marinette’s lips turned down. “I should be able to do something like that without you.”

“You’re plenty able,” Luka said, resting his cheek on her hair. “You just don’t have to.”

He felt her sigh and consider. He came to her practices, not regularly, but often enough that no one would think much about it if he was there. He had the impression from the giggling and whispering that the other girls thought it was cute. 

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Marinette asked in a small voice, and Luka turned his face and kissed her temple. 

“You know I love watching you in those shorts,” he teased, and then yelped as Marinette jabbed an elbow in his gut. “Ow,” he pouted.

“Here I thought we were having a serious emotional conversation and you just want to ogle my butt,” Marinette huffed, folding her arms.

“I learned how to ogle you and carry on a serious conversation at the same time years ago,” Luka teased. “It’s practically a survival skill for teenage boys. Especially those of us lucky enough to have super hot girlfriends.” 

***

A few days later, Luka lounged on the bleachers at the rink, a pair of headphones plugged into his guitar as he noodled idly and watched the team. He’d been a little self-conscious at first, but Marinette had been excited the first time he asked to come, and Suzette gave permission, so he tried not to think too hard about the fact that none of the other significant others ever seemed to show up. He grinned and winked at a couple of Marinette’s teammates when he caught them staring. They giggled and waved as they went on their way. The girls all knew he was completely devoted to Marinette, so he felt safe flirting a little, just for fun. Really it was less about the flirting and more about making Marinette look good. He had an inkling that Marinette kind of liked showing him off, which did all sorts of pleasant things to his insides, so he did his best to be charming without being a creep.

When he could spare the attention, at least. He loved watching Marinette on the rink, strong and graceful and confident, now that she’d moved past the initial awkwardness of learning how to move in her skates and building up the muscle she needed. Luka could see, even if Marinette couldn’t always, how much she contributed to the team and— 

Something banged on the rail in front of him and he started as Alix grinned at him, eyes knowing under her helmet. “Wake up, Couffaine,” she laughed, banging the back of her pad on the rail again for good measure. “Your lovesick puppy look is distracting everyone.” 

“Sorry,” Luka grinned, chuckling. He turned his attention back to his guitar as Alix rolled her eyes and skated off. She caught Marinette around the neck and gave her a vicious noogie, complaining loudly that her boyfriend was getting drool all over the rink. Marinette tossed her off and chased her around the rink. She still wasn’t quite fast enough to catch Alix, but the entire team whooped and started around the rink, and the whole thing became some kind of free for all that Luka couldn’t quite follow, until Suzette intervened and got them back into their drills.

Finally Suzette called that the team was free to go and just the exhibition squad should stay. Luka put aside his guitar and walked out onto the rink, slipping an arm around Marinette’s waist as she skated up to him. 

“Ready?” he asked softly, and she nodded. They made their way back to where Suzette was giving instructions, and all eyes turned curiously their way.

“Um,” Marinette began nervously. “I was hoping that maybe I could, um, join the exhibition squad? I know I’m new and I don’t really know that much but I’m a fast learner and I could—” She cut off the ramble as Luka squeezed her hip.

Suzette smiled warmly at her and Alix gave her two thumbs up. “Of course you can,” Suzette told her, and then her smile faltered slightly. “Although I’m not sure if there’s enough time to get you up to speed with the other girls for this exhibition…” She looked down her clipboard, tapping her pen on her lips thoughtfully. “We could have you do a solo skills exhibition like Alix, except…”

“Alix is a lot better than me at all those things,” Marinette shifted uncomfortably. 

“You haven’t been doing them as long,” Suzette reminded her kindly. “We could maybe use that as an asset, though. Show them a beginner level drill while Alix handles the advanced stuff. If we came up with a few things and you really drilled on them—” Suzette began, but she was interrupted before she could finish the thought. 

“What about jam skating?” one of the girls spoke up. Everyone turned to look at her and she shrugged slightly. “It’s always a crowd pleaser. It’s fun and as long as the song is killer, it’ll look good even if it’s simple. We start out teaching her the basics and if she can manage some fancier tricks we can work them into the routine later. Marinette’s strong and flexible, I bet she can make it look good, and that way she can still participate but we don’t have to shoehorn her into something where she’ll have to do a lot of work to catch up.” She looked at Marinette. “How does that sound? I bet you can put together a killer outfit. If you like it, we can work on more complicated stuff for the next fundraiser.” 

“That sounds really fun,” Marinette admitted shyly. Luka squeezed her hip again. “I’m sure I could come up with a great song,” she added, glancing up at Luka. He blushed a little and winked at her. 

“I’m sure we can find something,” he agreed.

“Okay then,” Suzette grinned. “You can work with Danielle and we’ll see how it goes, and work it out from there. Welcome to the squad, Marinette.”

***

A couple of weeks later, Luka was lounging on Marinette’s chaise while she sat hunched over her desk, brainstorming outfits for her exhibition skate. “How’s the jam skate prep going?” Luka asked, bending over to plug his guitar into the tiny pink amp that now lived under her chaise. Marinette had giggled all afternoon the first time he brought it over, but it was perfect for letting him practice while she worked, without being in her way when he wasn’t there. Marinette had decorated the casing with some of her flower decals and now it felt like it had always been part of her room.

“Not bad,” Marinette said, refocusing on the outfits she was sketching. “It still feels a little awkward. Danielle’s trying to teach me this quick-change move and I keep getting my feet tangled up, but she promises me that’s normal and that I’m doing well.”

“You mean she didn’t call you clumsy and laugh you off the rink?” Luka chuckled, and Marinette pitched a discarded, crumpled up sketch over her shoulder at him, smiling in satisfaction when she heard it bounce off his head. 

“You were right,” she said, reaching for a different pencil. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“I just want to hear that it’s going well,” Luka said innocently, and Marinette rolled her eyes. The soft notes of Luka’s guitar—no, actually, that was a lot more energetic than the last thing she’d heard him working on. 

“I haven’t heard that one before,” Marinette observed. 

“I know,” Luka chuckled. “I thought you might like something with a kick for your jam skate, so I’ve been messing around with a few things. I think I’m on the right track with this one.”

That got her attention, and she put her pencil down and got up from her desk. “You don’t have to write something new,” Marinette protested, shoving his legs aside so she could sit down next to him on the chaise. “You’ll have to finish and record it, and there’s not much time if I’m going to get a routine worked out and practiced—I can use a commercial album, or one of Kitty Section’s songs.” 

“I want to,” Luka shrugged. “Mom can record it for us. It’ll be good enough quality to play over the PA system. I can finish it in a couple of days, no problem. Besides, it saves you guys having to do anything about getting rights and stuff.” He grinned, reaching over to rub his thumb along the furrow between her brows. “Put a Kitty Section patch on your outfit and we’ll call it even.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I would have done that anyway.”

“I know.” Luka leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re the most supportive girlfriend I could ever ask for. You might as well be the band’s PR manager at this point. The least I can do is support you too.” He kissed her lips, too, since he was there already, before winking and sitting back.

“Mm-hmm,” Mariette smiled, sliding over and leaning into his space before reaching up to flick his pink-tipped bangs out of his face. “You’ve always supported me. I’m sorry I didn’t...well, that I hid things from you before. I should have trusted you would understand.” 

Luka smiled, though his gaze was suddenly fixed on her mouth. “Forgiven. I’m just happy you’re happy now. I—Mmm.” He cut off in a contented hum as she closed the last bit of distance and kissed him. He smiled at her when she pulled back, but she set her hand on his, pushing lightly, and she grinned when she saw him swallow as he set the guitar aside. 

As soon as it was out of the way, Marinette slid into his lap and put her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. “You’re the best,” she sighed, and then kissed him again. “I’m so lucky to have you.” 

Luka tried to answer but a kiss just below his jaw ensured that nothing came out but a strangled squeak. Marinette had no intention of letting him argue, and Luka seemed to realize that, so instead he just put his arms around her and closed his eyes as she peppered kisses over his face and neck. At last, Marinette took his face in her hands and kissed him slowly and tenderly, and as she pulled away, a sudden inspiration hit her. Luka opened his eyes and found her looking at him intently. 

She reached up and traced a line with one fingertip from his forehead, down over his eye, to his cheekbone.

Luka raised his eyebrows. “Marinette?” 

“Hmm?” Distracted, Marinette was still staring at him—not at him, exactly, but at his face. Except she wasn’t really seeing his face, her mind already racing, elements she had been struggling with suddenly coming together in her mind. 

The warm pressure of Luka’s mouth on hers brought her blinking back to reality. “Marinette,” he murmured, before kissing her again. “Come back to earth, please. At least long enough for me to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” Marinette gasped. “I’m so sorry, Luka, I—” but he was already shaking his head.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said fondly, brushing her bangs back gently. “I get it. But I’m not going to see you tomorrow so I’d like a decent goodbye before you get lost in the zone.” 

“Of course,” Marinette smiled, and put her arms around his neck, forcing herself to focus on him for the moment as he kissed her. “I love you,” she breathed against his lips, and he smiled. 

“I love you too,” he whispered, and kissed her again before pulling back. He packed up his guitar and slung the case over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to eat,” he told her, chuckling as he saw her already shuffling around on her desk. “Set your alarm so you don’t stay up all night.” 

“I will,” Marinette said, smiling at his care of her as she went over to her desk and flipped to a new sheet of paper, sparing a moment to appreciate the way he always knew when to give her space. She hummed a little bit of the peppy song he’d been working on as she picked up her blue pencil and began to sketch.

***

Despite her genuine excitement and enthusiasm, Marinette had had her reservations when Danielle suggested jam skating. She was acrobatic enough, when she wasn’t being a total klutz, but Marinette hadn’t been sure she was graceful or rhythmic enough for something that was supposed to be a kind of dance. She’d trusted her teammates though and it turned out that she was actually halfway decent at it after all. And it was fun. 

“Yes, girl,” Danielle yelled from where she was leaning against the rail, watching Marinette. “Now you’re getting it! It’s about time you stopped thinking so hard!” 

Marinette flashed her a grin as she whipped by.

“This music is killer,” Danielle commented when Marinette finished and skated back to her. “What’s it called?”

“Oh,” Marinette reached up and ruffled her bangs away from her sweaty forehead. “I don’t actually know if it has a name? Luka wrote it and recorded it for me.” 

Danielle grinned. “Are you kidding? Is there anything that boy won’t do for you?”

Marinette shrugged, blushing as she looked at the floor. “Not much,” she admitted, grinning. “He’s pretty amazing. He’s always been there for me, even before we were together. Even when it hurt him.”

“Ooohkay don’t get all sentimental on me,” Danielle said, throwing an arm around Marinette’s shoulder. “I’m not trying to pry into your business. I don’t know what happened in the past but right now? You two are pretty sickening. Gotta admit, though, I wish I had a relationship like yours. Does he have a sister?” she teased, and Marinette shoved her back with a grin.

“Yes, and you’ve seen her before, the tall girl with the black hair and the purple tips and the cute blond girlfriend hanging all over her.”

Danielle groaned, dropping her head back. “Figures.” 

Marinette patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“Well, you’ve got the rink for a while longer,” Danielle sighed, leaning over the rail to grab her bag from the bleachers. She slung it over her shoulder. “You can stay and practice a little more if you want, and then next time we’ll work on putting some fancy stuff in the middle.” She poked Marinette in the belly. “Maybe some breakdancing-type moves during one of those sick guitar riffs. Might as well show off some of those crazy ab muscles of yours.”

Marinette giggled, and waved as Danielle left. She did a few lazy loops around the rink, practicing her footwork, letting the breeze of her passing cool the sweat on her skin. She was tired, but it was the good kind of tired, the ache of hard work and the glow of accomplishment. 

“Looking good. You always do, though.”  

Marinette swung around, nearly losing her balance, to find Luka standing at the edge of the rink, grinning at her. 

“Luka,” she skated toward him, beaming. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I thought I’d go home with you,” he said, and then, to her surprise, he hopped over the rail, and she saw he had a pair of skates on. “But I was hoping maybe you could show me some moves first.”

“Really?” Marinette backed up a bit to gaped at his feet, and then looked up at him. “But...you don’t have to do that.” 

“I know.” Luka shrugged his hoodie off, laying it over the rail, and stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging as he glided towards her. “But it’s important to you, and you like it. So I’d just like to give it a shot.” 

Marinette swallowed hard, still drifting backwards, eyes darting over the muscles in his arms and shoulders, the easy motion of his hips as he skated towards her, and the sly smirk curling his lips— 

Crap. He was smirking because she was staring. He bent down as he reached her, mischievous blue eyes peeking at her through the pink-tipped strands falling over his forehead. “Marinette,” he sing-songed teasingly, and blushing, she shoved his face away. He stumbled a little on his skates—Marinette supposed they weren’t exactly like ice skates, where she’d never seen him so much as wobble. 

Luka chuckled and maneuvered next to her. “Okay, so where do we start?”

Marinette swallowed her nerves. “Um, the back and forth? Like this.” She demonstrated with her feet. 

It didn’t take him long to get the hang of it, or the next two she showed him. Marinette wanted to pout. Luka was all sinuous, fluid grace, and it wasn’t fair. Oh, she knew he had his fair share of clumsy moments, usually when he was thinking about a song (or sometimes when he was thinking about her), but when it came to something like this, something that depended on rhythm and showmanship...he was in his element no matter the medium, and it showed. He had a confidence in himself and his body that she’d never been able to match outside of the suit.

Then he looked up and smiled at her, and she was reminded that this strong, hot, gorgeous man thought she was the greatest thing on earth, and she felt...she felt like it was true. Her smile lost some of its tightness, and some of the tension went out of her body, and she quirked a challenging eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, how about this one?” She knew he’d be able to do it, because this one was all balance and hips, but it wasn’t about how he moved right now. She put her hands behind her head and kicked her hips out to get the momentum she needed, and grinned to herself when she saw that she had his complete, undivided attention. It was intoxicating, having that complete laser focus entirely on her, and it made her want to really sell the performance.

“Well,” she said, after he’d watched her for a moment. “You think you can do it?” 

“Show me again,” he said, his voice at least an octave deeper than it had been a moment ago. “A little slower, please.” 

Marinette did it again, slower, keeping her eyes on him as much as she could. He shook his head slightly, lips curling. “You’re too good,” he murmured, and then smirked at her before trying the move himself. He had it down before long and Marinette giggled. 

“Okay, let’s put it together,” she murmured, sidling up next to him. Marinette started some music on her phone, counted out the beat in her head, and began putting the moves she’d just shown him together in a simple routine. 

Luka watched her intently for a moment, and then started to move next to her. It took him a couple of tries but he got it, and they grinned at each other as they moved around the rink in synch. It wasn’t perfect, they both stumbled a couple of times, and more than once they forgot where they were in their little routine, but they giggled their way through it and Marinette thought they were actually doing pretty well. 

Impulsively, Marinette flipped out of formation with him, circling around him as he kept going with their little routine. She threw in a little flare here and there when she knew he was watching, and then moved around to skate in front of him, mirroring the moves. That was harder and it took more concentration, she couldn’t show off as much. But it was worth it to be facing him, to see the way he looked at her. 

Finally he put on a quick burst of speed and caught her around the waist, and then stumbled over his toe stop, and Marinette had to hold him up, laughing. He grinned sheepishly as they skidded to a less than graceful stop, but didn’t let her go.

“You know something,” Marinette said, looking up at him through her lashes. “My boyfriend is really hot.” 

“You know something else?” Luka said, already bending towards her. “My girlfriend is irresistible.” He nipped at her jaw, palm flattening against the small of her back to press her close to him as he mouthed his way down her neck. Marinette tilted her head back and moaned softly, letting her hands drift down to his biceps. Luka moved down to her collarbone and Marinette leaned a little too far back. She yelped as her skates began to roll out from under her, but Luka caught her, letting her feet slide between his as she hung in his arms. He grinned down at her, and she giggled. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere a little more stable?” he suggested, with that same gentle mildness as always, that never mocked her or made her feel like she was...too clumsy, or too awkward, or too much of a spazz, or just too much.

This was one of those moments it hit her, how much, how truly he loved her, and as always it made her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes burn, and she yearned to show him how much she appreciated it, and how much she loved him in return, for just being the sweet, trustworthy, patient, dependable man that he was. 

She bit her lip, tightening her fingers on his biceps, and leaned up enough to kiss his lips lightly. “Let’s go.”

Luka smiled, and lifted her back onto her feet. He held her while she got her legs back underneath herself, steady as a rock as always. She smiled up at him, at his soft blue eyes looking at her under the pink-tipped fringe of his hair, and hoped the little surprise she was planning for the exhibition would show him how much she really did appreciate him.

***

Juleka was smirking, and Luka didn’t know why, and that was...worrisome. He tried to look like he didn’t care too much, because if she thought he really wanted to know, she definitely wouldn’t tell him. 

“Are you coming to the exhibition today?” he asked, as casually as he could, and Juleka’s smirk got broader, and now he was really worried.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Juleka mumbled, her expression shifted to a wicked grin. 

Oh, that was bad. That was almost definitely bad. Especially given that Juleka had disappeared for almost the whole afternoon for the last two days. Coupled the fact that Luka had picked up a couple extra shifts and hadn’t seen Marinette in a few days...he had concerns. As if Marinette didn’t knock him on his ass (mostly metaphorically, but occasionally literally) on the regular without special Plans. 

Yeah, with the way Juleka was suddenly cackling at him, he was pretty sure he was doomed, he just wasn’t sure how . 

It was a really long day, and when they finally slipped into the seats Tom and Sabine had saved for them, right up in front, the grins on Tom and Sabine’s faces didn’t do much to ease Luka’s concerns. He tried not to let his knee bounce as they waited, but gave up even trying to keep his fingers in control, letting them tap out the rhythm of the music playing on the leg he was desperately trying to keep still. 

***

“That feels like a pretty big crowd,” Marinette breathed as she peeked out of the locker room door. 

“Good,” Alix said cheerfully, adjusting her helmet. “More people means more money.”

“Yeah, of course,” Marinette said lightly, like she wasn’t suddenly shaking in her skates. 

“Hey.” Marinette jumped as Alix threw an arm around her shoulders. “I know it’s kinda freaky, but you’ll be fine once you get out there. Besides, you and I both know there’s only one person in that audience you actually care about impressing.” She took a lock of Marinette’s hair in her fingers and waved it in front of Marinette’s eyes, before letting it slide away. “I hope you brought a mop and a bucket because that boy’s going to melt down completely, you know that right?”

“I know,” Marinette giggled. “That’s the plan.” She and Alix grinned at each other and shared a fist bump. 

***

There were several clubs participating in the exhibition, and the programs were interesting but the wait was killing him. 

He sat up a little straighter when Suzette finally took the microphone. Marinette was up first, he knew. Suzette introduced herself and told the crowd a little bit about the team, and then began to back up to the sidelines, calling, “Ladies and gentleman, give it up for our very own Petty Gâteau, Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Marinette’s new to the team and she came to us with barely any experience on skates and a lot to learn, but with a little perseverance and a lot of hard work, she’s become an absolute terror of the derby track! Not only is she a great jammer in the bout, she’s been learning jam skating and today she’s performing a routine she calls Blue Lightning.” 

Luka had barely registered the name when Marinette burst onto the rink, throwing her arms up in the air as the spectators applauded, and Luka lost his breath as he watched Marinette take a lap around the rink, hyping the crowd. Marinette wore a black sleeveless crop top that left her toned arms and midriff bare, with a sparkly blue lightning bolt lined in pink emblazoned bold and proud across her chest. She wasn’t wearing her helmet for the jam skate and her hair was loose, its bright blue streaks whipping around her grinning face—wait.

Luka’s mouth dropped open and he stood up, gripping the rail as he stared, and Juleka began to howl with laughter beside him. Marinette’s hair had always had a slightly blue look to it in the light, but now it was shot through with bright, jagged streaks of blue. His blue. His knees went a little weak and his heart began to pound as she locked eyes with him and winked. God. He dropped heavily back into his seat as Tom and Sabine began to giggle. 

“Either I owe you big time,” he muttered to Juleka, who was practically in tears from laughter at this point, “Or I’m going to kill you. I haven’t decided which yet.” 

Marinette really only got a glimpse at his face when she whipped by but she liked what she saw. She waved and blew kisses and circled to the center of the rink. The excitement of surprising Luka already had her on edge, and the energy of the crowd was addictive, so when the music started she maybe put a little more snap in her hips, a little more sass in her smile, a little more whip in her hair, and she had to laugh the next time she passed Luka, who was by now leaning on the rails for support while Juleka patted his back with faux sympathy. 

Marinette laughed as her feet wove through those quick-change moves she’d had so much trouble with a few weeks before, grinning triumphantly when she managed them without trouble. 

She wished she could have seen Luka’s face when she “fell” back, landing on her hands and kicking up into a handstand. 

Marinette finished her routine with a flourish and took another lap around the rink, waving both hands at the audience, though her attention stayed on Luka. She skated up to him as Suzette cried, “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our own Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” 

Luka leapt to his feet as she approached, and his hands were on her face before she even leaned over the rail, and as they shared a brief but fervent kiss. Through the whooping and applause they heard Suzette laughing over the microphone as she announced, “And just in case you were wondering, she’s taken.”

Marinette pulled back, blushing prettily, and turning even redder as she saw the way Luka was looking at her. She blew him one more kiss, waved to her friends, and skated off the rink to get changed for the bout. 

She was fired up when it came time for the actual competition, throwing her weight around and pushing off with her strong legs. There was no hesitation about her anymore as she worked with her teammates, calling out formations and strategies, slamming herself up against bodies of teammates and opponents alike as the situation required. 

In her eagerness she got called for a penalty, and since this was an exhibition bout more about entertainment than anything else, she ended up doing one armed push-ups balanced on her toe stops. She grinned to herself as she heard Luka’s roar cheering her on. Her quiet boyfriend knew how to make himself heard when he wanted to.

She maybe did a few extra push-ups, just to show off, and nearly fell over laughing when she saw Luka pretend to swoon onto Juleka. He nearly landed on the floor when his sister shoved him off mercilessly. Marinette blew him a kiss and got back in the bout, but she felt as if his eyes were burning her the whole time, even when she couldn’t see him.

They certainly burned her when the bout was over and she could look over at him again. Deciding it was best not to go over there again this time, she let Alix tug her along with the rest of the team back to the locker room. 

Marinette took her time getting ready, lingering until the locker room was empty. Alix was the last one out before her. She smirked at Marinette and gave her a two-fingered salute on her way out of the door. 

Marinette slowly, deliberately packed up her things, enjoying the pleasant flutter of anticipation in her stomach, the rush still singing in her veins, and then slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the locker room, humming Blue Lightning under her breath. 

Sure enough, no sooner had she come out of the door than a strong arm slipped around her waist and whirled her around so that her back was against the wall. Luka loomed over her, grinning as he nudged her nose with his. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. “Anything else you need to do?” 

“Nope,” Marinette giggled, letting her bag slide off her shoulder and to the floor. 

“Good,” he sighed, and bent down to kiss her—more softly than she expected, but as soon as she kissed him back and lifted her arms around his neck, he pressed her into the wall with a little moan and kissed her and kissed her, murmuring sweet little things that she barely managed to take in, about how proud he was of her and how amazing she was and how much he loved her while she squirmed and giggled and kissed him back. She laughed into his mouth as his thumbs slipped under her shirt to stroke across her abs.

“Luka, that tickles,” she told him.

“You’re so unfair,” he fake-whined teasingly. “You’re feeling up my muscles all the time, and then you go out there like that and now I’m not allowed to touch?”

“Your muscles are really nice,” she defended herself, grabbing his hand and sliding it flat against her stomach. “You can touch, just....” She cleared her throat, but her voice still sounded huskier than usual as she said, “Harder.” 

Luka growled and kissed her again, rubbing his palm firmly across her belly, and maybe she shifted a little on purpose to make her muscles flex beneath his hand, and he moaned into her mouth. Marinette couldn’t help reveling at least a little bit in her power over him, shifting again, and the noise he made had her giggling into the kiss. 

“You covered it up,” Luka murmured, reaching up to stroke the hair that now looked almost completely black.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, it doesn’t show as much when my hair’s up,” Marinette remembered, reaching up to touch her pigtails. 

“I want to see it again though,” he complained, and Marinette giggled, reaching up to pull the bands out of her hair. She shook it loose and smiled up at him. 

“Sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about it, just put it up out of habit.”

Luka smiled and threaded his fingers through her hair, letting the strands slide slowly through them so he could admire the fall of the blue streaks. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” He sighed and rested his forehead on hers gently. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Marinette told him, rubbing her nose against his lightly. “Besides, fair’s fair.”

“But I didn’t—” 

Marinette’s finger on his lips silenced him. “I know,” she smiled. “You weren’t expecting anything from me. But what I meant was, it’s only fair that I get to wear your colors if you get to wear mine. In fact, I was thinking maybe I need to start incorporating a little more Luka-blue in some of my accessory designs. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been buying out my online shop, monsieur.” She giggled. “Not that wearing my flower keychain on your guitar case was particularly subtle.”

Luka smiled, unrepentant. “I like having little reminders of you. Thinking about you makes me happy.” He bent and kissed her softly. “I’m not opposed to you thinking of me, either, so if it makes you happy, I’m all for it. Now, can I take my amazing girl for some ice cream, or are you too worn out to go walking all over Paris looking for Andre?”

Marinette shrugged. “Andre’s is nice, but I think my legs would prefer the little parlor on the corner if that’s okay.” 

Luka chuckled. “Sure thing.” 

Fiction Master Post