#especially since my roommate wants to use Saturday to clean the living room

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 4, day 27, decided to give Knell a Rheddig mask to see how it looks and, uh, as it turns out, I made her head too tall XD I also need to get more references for the mask, because I think I didn't a few details quite right. Namely the shape and curve of the beak and the eye motifs. But that's okay! This is a learning process, and the mask is in its own group so I can hide the whole thing without losing it lol

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE SUN WILL RISE (part 2)

A/N: im so glad you guys liked the first part! i hope i'll be able to live up to your expectations with the rest! also, pls don't ask about my alleged posting schedule... i don't have one lol, im just going with the flow

PAIRING: College!Long-hair!Harry X Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

“So how is living with Harry going?” Iris asks, drumming on her text book, avoiding to finish her ready. The two of you are sitting at a picnic table near the library. Originally, you planned to go there, but it’s such a beautiful day. Iris is great at not studying, that’s why you usually prefer to be in the library, because there she can’t really talk. You need all the extra study time, law is hard enough on its own, especially for you since you don’t actually want to study it.

“Um… It’s fine,” you mumble, highlighting a line without looking up, but you notice how you stiffen up at his name.

It’s been three weeks of living together with Harry and three weeks since he made it clear the two of you will never be friends. You allowed yourself one night of self pity before you told yourself that it’s not worth it. If Harry doesn’t want to be your friend, then that’s his loss. You don’t need him, you’re fine with knowing someone doesn’t like you. It happens, right?

Living together has been actually neutral. Both of you have been living according to what you discussed that night. Harry doesn’t queue at the bathroom and he lets you know when he leaves or has arrived back, even if it’s just with a knock on your door. One weekend he slept at someone else’s on Saturday and he left a note for you saying that he would be back late Sunday. 

You constantly hear him when he is at home, you haven’t been able to not listen to him. His footsteps, the way he makes dinner or the soft music he listens to when he is studying. All in all, he is a good roommate. Not messy, or at least not outside his room, he cleans up the kitchen after he cooks, you haven’t found hair in the sink after he shaved and he is quiet, makes sure his music is never too loud. You can’t complain about him.

But he is still as cold as an ice-cube towards you.

“Just fine? Where are the dirty details? How many girls has he brought up?” Iris pushes some more and you give up, dropping your pen to your textbook.

“None. He is a good roommate, we have rules,” you simply say.

“No girls?” she raises her eyebrows. “I always imagined him to be a huge womanizer.”

“Yeah, me too,” you agree. You haven’t really paid any thought to it, but Iris is right, you’ve always thought that Harry is popular amongst women and he uses it to the fullest, but now that you think about it, you never actually saw him with anyone. No making out at parties and you don’t remember him leaving early from a party to hook up with someone.

“Maybe he is just testing the waters. One night, you’ll wake up to moaning,” she chuckles and you frown at the thought.

“I hope not, I’m not interested in hearing that.”

“You never thought about how he is in bed?”

“What?” you cough at the unexpected question.

“Come on, he is obviously good looking, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about having sex with him.”

Of course you did. But you’re not gonna just admit it.

“Umm…” you breathe out nervously and Iris continues.

“The tattoos, the rings, the long hair, I bet he is good in bed, a guy like him just simply can’t suck looking like that.”

“Iris, are you trying to tell me something? You might be having a crush on Harry?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Crush? No,” she chuckles. “I’m just not blind. But actually, I used to think he was into you.”

“Me? What made you think that?” you ask, unable to hide your shock. 

On the outside, it’s not that obvious that Harry doesn’t like you. Your other friends just think the two of you are not that close, they don’t feel the passive hatred you do radiating from Harry. But to think that he was ever into you? That’s unexpected for sure. 

“I remember when we first met him, at that party. He kind of always positioned himself close to you, I caught him staring at you a lot of times and he looked like he was very interested in you, just didn’t know how to approach you. I saw that look on his face a few more times, but not lately though,” she shrugs as you process her words.

Harry? Interested in you? He made it clear he is everything but interested, but could it have been the situation in the past? You remember the first time the two of you met, you found him good looking, but you didn’t see what Iris did, mostly because you were trying not to be a creep and stare at him. And now you find out that all along it was him who was ogling you? That doesn’t add up, not with how he acts towards you these days.

“I don’t think there was anything behind that,” you say and Iris just shrugs before turning back to her book, successfully planting the seed of something unknown into your mind.

You were expecting a call from your parents, but you still jump when your phone starts ringing one afternoon when you’re in the living room studying. Your dad’s name appears on the screen and you reach for the phone taking a deep breath.

“Hi dad,” you greet him, answering the call. 

“So you are bringing your partner to the wedding?” he says without as much as saying hello. Judging from the voices coming from around him he is working. It took him almost a month to call you, that’s how much it concerns him what’s going on with you.

“Well, yes. I’m bringing someone,” you say. Even though he is not in the room with you physically, you straighten your back as if he could see you and tell you off for having a bad posture. 

“I hope he is not some random hook up, it’s your sister’s wedding, not a fraternity party.”

You grit your teeth at the belittling voice he is using, like you’re just a child. He is treating your sister’s wedding like it’s the queen’s coronation, he wants everything to be perfect down to the smallest bit, including your plus one and he’s afraid you might bring someone who wouldn’t fit into the picture.

Well, he will surely have an opinion about Harry’s tattoos and long hair, so choosing him is kind of your way of rebelling against his expectations.

“He is not a hookup,” you quietly answer. 

“Great, bring him home for Christmas so we can approve of him,” he says, your eyes widening and before you could even protest he ends the call.

Holy shit. Your father is expecting you to bring Harry home for Christmas, but there is no way you can convince Harry to do that, but if you show up without him… You can already see the disappointment in his eyes, your throat is closing up and your eyes are watering even though it’s just the end of September. 

“Hey, I’m leaving–Uh, you alright?” Harry asks from the door and you jump at his voice, you didn’t realize he came out of his room. Breathing heavily you rub your eyes and clear your throat before looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What were you saying?” you ask, knowing well you look anything but fine and Harry is not stupid. But he just stares back at you with that unreadable look on his face before speaking up again.

“I’m leaving,” he repeats and you nod.

“Okay. Bye,” you say, busying you with your textbooks again, feeling him staring at you from the door for a couple more moments before he turns around and leaves. 

Your lips are wobbling as you hear him open the front door and then shut it. You weren’t expecting him to sit beside you and comfort you, but the way he just left without another word was just beyond. He keeps proving again and again that he really does not want to be around you.

Yet you still feel a kind of pull towards him that you can’t explain. 

You try to focus on studying for a while, but it’s practically useless, you remember nothing from what you’ve been reading all along.

Huffing angrily you pack up everything in the livingroom and decide to just order something to eat and call it a night. But when you walk past Harry’s door you find yourself stopping and playing with the idea to peek inside. You even reach for the doorknob, but then you let your hand fall. You will not violate his privacy like this, no matter how he acts.

You ditch the idea to get food, just take a speedy shower and go to bed only to lie in bed awake, thinking about everything that’s been stressing out. Hours go by and you’re still up when you hear the front door open and close, footsteps echo in the hallway as Harry is walking around, doing his business. You hear him take a quick shower, then a short trip to the kitchen and when you think he is about to lock himself up in his room, it sounds like he has stopped at your door. 

You sit up in your bed, trying to listen to his movements outside, but you hear none, which makes you think he is standing at your door. Just when you’re about to check what’s happening, you hear him walk away, out to the kitchen and then into his room, the door finally closing. He really was standing at your door, but why? Maybe he was just checking something on his phone and happened to stop there on his way as he typed, or he just saw something on the floor.

After the way he just left earlier, there’s no way he wanted to check in on you. He doesn’t care about you.

You lie back and force your eyes closed, slowly drifting to sleep finally.

When you wake up in the morning, you feel like a truck has hit you, your sleep was anything but relaxing last night, woke up several times and you had some weird dreams that left an uneasy feeling in your chest. Rubbing your eyes you head out into the kitchen to make a coffee for yourself, hoping it would give you enough energy to leave for your morning class you’d rather skip, but if your dad ever finds out you skipped class because you were tired, he would disown you right on the spot, so it’s not an option for you. 

Your eyelids feel like deadweight as you keep blinking the sleep away, walking into the kitchen. You’re heading to the espresso machine in the corner you bought last year to fuel your caffeine obsession, but then you notice something on the counter.

There’s a big takeaway cup from your favorite café that’s just one street away, your name written on the side of it in pretty cursive letters. You eye it with suspicion as you walk closer to inspect it, there’s no note, no nothing, and you definitely did not leave it there. Taking the lid off you inhale the scent of your favorite coffee beans, you can tell it’s what you always order whenever you have enough time to pop in for a drink.

You definitely did not buy it, but that only leaves one person who could have gotten it for you.

Walking out into the hallway you see that Harry’s sneakers and keys are gone, so he has already left for school. It’s hard to believe that he went out of his way, woke up early and got you your favorite coffee before leaving to his class, when he’s made it clear you’ll never be friends. 

This is something friends do, which Harry doesn’t want to be.

Pushing the initial shock into the back of your mind you take the coffee and finish it while getting ready for the day, you keep the gesture in mind, surely planning on asking him about it later.

Around lunch time you meet up with Vivian and Tanner at the cafeteria and just as you settle at an empty table Harry walks in, joining the three of you. It’s the first time you see him since yesterday when he obviously saw you having a breakdown following your call from your dad. He sits next to you like everything is going as normal, he mostly engages in the conversation when Tanner asks him, but otherwise, he is silent. 

When Vivian and Tanner get into a bit of a fight on their own, you finally decide to bring up the surprise coffee this morning.

“Hey, um… thanks for the coffee,” you softly say so only he can hear you, though your friends are way too busy arguing with each other. Harry glances at you just for a split second before his gaze returns to his plate and he nods.

“No problem,” he hums.

You have so many more questions for him. Why did he bring it to you? How does he know it’s your favorite? But you don’t want to push your luck and just enjoy this moment of positivity that’s the first one in your relationship with Harry… probably ever. 

This one little gesture showed you that there might be hope, that maybe you and Harry could actually be friendly towards each other. You just had to be very careful.

Following the coffee incident it seems like the wall Harry has built between you and him has shattered and light is not peeking through the holes. The day after he asked if you needed anything from the grocery store. Whenever he left he didn’t just throw a bye at you, he usually told you when he was coming back. He washed the plate you once left in the sink because you were in a hurry and when you forgot to wash a shirt you wanted to wear he offered to wash it with his load. Tiny little gestures that were slowly but surely melting the ice. 

In return you’ve been trying to be super nice to him as well. Every time you order takeout you always ask him if he wants anything, so far he took up on the offer once, but that’s something too. You’ve returned the coffee favor too, you learned how he likes his, black, no sugar, no milk, and you’ve brewed him a cup a few times when you woke up before him, leaving it on the counter with a post-it note to let him know it’s for him. 

It no longer feels like you’re living with a ghost and he only had to see you cry once to be nicer. You’ll take it as it is.

On the first Friday of October Iris convinces you to go to a party. You’ve been dodging the invitations for a while, saying that you need to study, but she only accepts this excuse a handful of times before she refuses to let you rot at home for another evening. 

So when you’re done with your classes that day, you squeeze in a quick study session before getting ready for the party. Harry arrives home when you walk out of the bathroom in your fluffy bathrobe and your hair up in a towel turban. 

“You’re going to the party tonight?” he asks, walking towards his room, meeting you halfway as you head to yours.

“Yeah. You’re coming too?”

“Yes. Want to Uber there? Tanner said he would pick me up, but I know he wouldn’t drive if it wasn’t for taking me there.”

“Sure,” you nod, your mood already brightened from even the suggestion. 

“Cool. Let me know when you’re ready,” he simply says before disappearing in his room.

Just that interaction alone made you want to go to the party a hundred times more. This could be the end of the “we are not friends” era, when Harry finally ditches the cold act towards you and maybe, just maybe, you might even ask him about Christmas. You still haven’t figured out how you’re gonna work things out with your dad’s request to bring Harry home for Christmas, if he could join you even just for one day you’d be saved. But you know you would have to butter him up for that. 

Even though you live in the same apartment, sharing a car feels way more intimate for some reason. Maybe because he offered to do it, he willingly let you share the ride with him when your living situation was more of a must situation. He needed a place to stay at and you had one. 

You pay for the ride and as always, Harry asks if you want him to Venmo you his part.

“No need,” you shake your head. Something flickered through his face, but you couldn’t catch it before it was gone. 

Walking into the party with Harry by your side might make the two of you appear like friends. Your gaze meets several girl’s envious stares and you’re not even touching Harry in any way. The conversation you had with Iris pops up in your head and you wonder if he has ever hooked up with any of the girls that are throwing deadly glares in your way. It really is unusual that you have never really seen Harry with girls, not a girlfriend or a hookup when he obviously has the looks. 

“Want to ride home together too?” Harry asks, leaning closer to your ear as you make your way inside and a shiver runs down your spine as his hot breath hits the shell of your ear.

“Sure,” you nod, already feeling dizzy and you haven’t even had a drink.

The almost friendly act you’ve been having with Harry has been affecting you way more than you’d like to admit and you’re definitely not used to having him so close to you.

You part ways soon, joining Iris and Vivian while he mingles in the crowd and finds his own little group. It’s just another frat party, nothing special and you nurse the same drink for hours, not quite in the mood to get drunk. Sometime around eleven Vivian disappears with Tanner, as always, so you and Iris decide to watch the intense beerpong game that’s taking place outside. You spot Harry on the other side, standing with some guy you’ve seen him with several times before, a red solo cup in his hand and he has a lazy smile stretched across his face as his dull eyes are following the game. He has definitely had a few drinks already, more than you, that’s for sure.

God, he looks so good, his hair pushed back with a pair of sunglasses, his tattoo covered arm flexing as he gestures around while speaking, he shouldn’t look this good, not when he’s acted like a dick for almost two years. 

“Y/N, hi!” you hear someone behind you, a gentle tap on your shoulder and you realize that you’ve been staring at Harry. Turning around you find Curtis, you had Roman law with him in your first year, you sat next to each other for two semesters and even studied together for the exam. You always joked around that Roman law brings people together the most. 

“Curt, hi! Long time no see!” you grin as you share a quick hug. Curtis is now a year behind you, because he spent last year in France on an exchange program and he couldn’t get all of his credits accepted, so he has to do a bunch of sophomore classes now.

“Ah, you know, I have a lot of catching up to do now that I’m back,” he chuckles.

The two of you engage in a conversation about his year in Paris and what he missed while he was away. You listen to his stories with envy as he tells you the countless times he and his mates lounged on the grass at the Eiffel Tower or when he was drinking fine wine on a balcony that looked over a busy street. He also mentions a guy he met, Henri, and judging from the blush on his cheeks they did more than just eating croissants in bed. 

The beerpong game is now long forgotten, you go back inside with Curt and join him and his friends in the kitchen, they are sophomores so they ask you about classes and professors they can expect for their next year.

Hours pass by and you barely even notice, only snap out of the conversation when Vivian and Tanner appear, looking for you. 

“Everything alright?” you ask, seeing the concern on their faces.

“We have a bit of a situation,” Vivian frowns. “Harry has had one too many drinks.”

“Oh, is he okay?” 

“Fine, just shitfaced,” Tanner sighs. “But we should take him home. Unfortunately, he keeps saying that he needs to leave with you, because he promised.”

Your heart skips a beat. Harry is thinking about you when he is drunk out of his mind, even though it was a simple agreement he could totally ignore, but it seems like he took it way more seriously than you thought.

“Okay, where is he?” you breathe out nodding. 

Your friends lead you out to the backyard and straight to a lounge chair where you see Harry sitting sideways, he is leaning onto his knees, his head hanging low so his hair hides his face like a curtain.

“Hey man, brought you Y/N, can we go now?” Tanner squeezes his shoulder to catch his attention and he lifts his head, his glassy eyes almost immediately finding you. 

“Y/N! There’s my roommate!” his face lights up and he grabs your hand, staring up at you, surprising you with the physical touch. The warmth of his hold is setting your skin on fire, he has never touched you for more than just half a second when he brushed past you for example, so having his hand holding yours is a whole new experience. 

“Tanner told me I have to leave,” he slurs, still holding onto your hand as he looks around. “But I told him I’m only leaving with you.”

“That’s nice of you, Harry,” you smile. “I’m here now, we can go home.”

He nods and attempts to stand up from the lounge chair, but he falls back before making a second attempt which finally succeeds. He curls an arm around your shoulders and puts part of his weight on you, Tanner seeing this moves to be Harry’s support, but you just shake your head.

“It’s fine, I got him,” you say, while pulling out your phone and calling an Uber quickly.

“I’ll pay for this ride, I swear,” Harry groans from beside you when he sees the app open on your phone. 

“No need.”

“Fucking hell, Y/N. You are so annoying!” he huffs, but he is quick to explain himself. “Not in a bad way, I mean,” he adds, his words melting together, his accent now a lot heavier than usually. “I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says and you have a feeling there was more behind his words.

“It’s alright,” you tell him. 

It takes some time and extra help from Tanner to get him out of the party. The Uber arrives just on time and it’s a struggle to put Harry into the car, but you finally manage.

“I’ll take it from here, you guys just enjoy the rest of the night,” you tell Tanner and Vivian.

“Are you sure? You’ll need to get him upstairs too,” Vivian points it out. 

“I can do it. Thanks for the help,” you smile at them before getting in the car too.

“Did I mess up your night?” Harry sighs, his head falling against the back of the seat, eyes barely open as the driver heads to the address you gave him.

“No, I was getting tired anyway,” you tell him.

“But you were with that guy… Are you dating him?” he asks and you give him a confused look, though he probably can’t see it in the dark car and through his blurry vision. 

“What?”

“That guy you started talking to at the… beerpong table. You seemed to be close,” he sighs, closing his eyes fully.

“Harry, please don’t fall asleep, I can’t carry you up the stairs. And are you talking about Curtis?” you poke him, stopping him from falling asleep. It seems like drunk Harry might be your key to find out more about him, so you are not letting this chance go to waste.

“Curtis, whatever his name is. You’re dating him? Thought you needed a boyfriend,” he snorts, finding himself hilarious as you’re just staring at him, shocked at how chatty he is.

“I’m not dating Curtis and I do need a boyfriend, which I have for the wedding. You.”

“So… you need me?” he asks, his green irises appearing glassy, but the way they bore right into your soul leaves you breathless. 

“I do,” you answer quietly with a nod. The passing street lights dance across his face as he stares at you for one, two, three minutes before his eyes fall closed and he stays quiet for the rest of the ride.

When you arrive at your building you shake him awake gently and he groans, but climbs out of the car with just a little bit of help. He leans onto you as you make your way up, one arm over your shoulders as you take each step, one after the other, careful not to trip. When you finally make it to your apartment, Harry leans against the wall while you unlock the door, but you can feel his lazy gaze over you, his eyes traveling up and down your body in such a shameless way like never before.

“Come on, you need to rest,” you puff out some air, pretending like you didn’t notice a thing as you help him walk inside, shutting the door behind you. 

“Bathroom,” he breathes out.

“You need to use the bathroom? Are you feeling sick?” you ask, hoping he won’t puke right in the hallway.

“No… I wanna shower,” he slurs and you nod with a sigh. He really does smell, he could use some soap, but you have no idea if he can do it on his own. 

Reaching the bathroom Harry starts stripping out of his clothes as if you weren’t even there, he pulls his shirt over his head revealing his toned back and you can’t help but stare before you snap out of your trance. 

“O-Okay, you think y-you can manage on your own?” you ask, clearing your throat. Harry just hums and when he starts unbuttoning his pants you decide it’s your sign to leave. 

You close the bathroom door with a hammering heart and stay there in the hallway, listening to him shuffle around until the water starts running. Walking into your room you grab a makeup wipe and start taking your mascara off while listening closely to what’s happening in the bathroom, in case Harry might fall or something, but you hear nothing else but the running water. 

Fifteen minutes go by, then twenty and twenty-five until the water finally stops. Sitting on the edge of your bed you’re waiting for him to come out so you can make sure he made it to his bed, but the door doesn’t open. He’s been in there for almost an hour when you decide it’s been enough. 

Knocking softly on the door you wait for a response, but it’s just dead silence. You knock again and call out his name.

“Harry? Are you alright?”

No response. Chewing on your bottom lip your hand hovers over the doorknob before you decide to go inside. You crack the door open, the warm, misty air that was stuck in there after his shower escapes past you. Stepping inside you find him sitting on the toilet, the lid closed and luckily he managed to at least put on a pair of boxers, but he is leant against the sink next to him, arms crossed over his chest, snoring softly.

You tell yourself now is not the time to ogle his thighs and the tiger tattoo you’ve only caught tiny glimpses of until now, the way his biceps are stretched underneath the inked skin, his hair curling in damp strands. God, he looks so good, even when he is drunk out of his mind.

“Harry, you need to go to bed,” you softly shake him awake, his eyes pop open and he stirs as he looks around, taking in his surroundings. 

“Y/N?” he asks, looking at you through glassy eyes.

“Yeah. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He just nods and lets you help him up from the toilet before making his way to his bedroom, walking in a zig-zag. You pull the comforter off and help him get comfortable on the mattress before pulling the covers over him.

Returning to the bathroom you grab his clothes from the floor and bring it back to his room. You slip his phone out of his pants’ pocket and put it on the charger on his nightstand. You’re convinced he is fast asleep already, so when his hand grabs your wrist you almost scream at the unexpected move.

“Do you need anything?” you ask in a whisper as your eyes meet his tired gaze, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he answers, ignoring your question and you just know he is not talking about his drunken state and how you had to bring him home like a kid. It’s beyond that.

“Okay,” is all you manage to say. His hold lets go of your wrist and your breath hitches in your throat when his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin underneath your eye. It’s dark in the room, but you catch him staring at your lips, the intensity of the moment making you shudder. 

Is he going to kiss you now? Would you let him? And do you want him to? The way you don’t move back proves that you’d definitely let him, the thought of feeling his lips against yours has your blood rushing through your veins. 

“Y/N, you’re…” he breathes out, as if he is lost in his own thoughts, but you ache for him to finish, to hear what he wanted to say. 

But it never happens. He presses his lips together, swallowing hard before his hand drops from your cheek and just like that, the moment is gone. He is clearly still drunk, his eyes close and you bet a moment later he’s already asleep. 

With a disappointed sigh you walk out of his room and get ready to go to bed.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[hanmaenthusiast]

Always and Forever

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

inui x f!reader

warnings - mdni🔞, praise, mutual pining?, sofa sex, oral (female receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, riding, body worship, creampie, basically vanilla smut, slight fluff, profanity, use of pet names such as angel and darling, one mention of blood.

synopsis - you and Inui had been living together for a while, one night he comes home wounded after being attacked at work, you have no choice but to help him out in one way or another.

a/n - this is my first post on tumblr & first time attempting smut! apologies for any mistakes, i’m hoping to write more in the future & get better at it lol, anyway the lack of inui on this app is killing me >:(

wc - 2,950

It was late, much later than usual. Seishu still hadn’t come home considering his shift finishes around 4 on a Saturday, you kept your gaze on the clock which continued to tick past 7pm. You found yourself worrying again, worrying about all the possibilities that could’ve happened to him. I mean it was normal to be this concerned, especially since your long term roommate was an ex gang member.

Once again you started pacing around the room, fingers etching to send another distressing ‘where are you?’ or ‘tell me you’re not dead’ text. Seishu’s stern words replayed in your mind ‘Stop worrying about me Y/N, focus on yourself for once’ as you remembered his constant lectures.

Finally gathering yourself together, a set of keys jamming into the front door caught your attention. Sprinting down the stairs your eyes glued onto Inui’s figure as he stood slightly hunched with a prominent bloody gash on his forehead.

“Seishu what the fuck?” you exclaimed, almost passing out at the sight in front of you. It was like you had premonitions about this scenario only seconds before he made his apperance.

“Agh, not so loud, my head is sore.” he groaned, running a hand through his hair after locking the door behind him. He shuffled his way into the room latching onto your arm for support.

“I can quite well see that, sit down over there i’ll clean you up.” you helped him over to the dining table, placing him down onto one of the wooden seats.

Inui told you what happened, how he was suddenly attacked by a group of presumed male gang members at the motor shop unbeknownst to why it played out. Your gut tightened at the story, afraid of any future encounters with them.

“Jesus, they got you good huh. You have to be more aware from now on, where was Draken hm? You better tell him i’ll-“

“Y/N.” Seishu let out a low sigh, he cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

His gemlike pearls fixed onto yours, exchanging a sombre look. You could tell he didn’t need to hear your berating.

“Sorry.” you muttered continuing to clean up his wound.

Ever since you met Inui, you stuck together like glue both having similar interests and mutual acquaintances made it easier to find a blossoming friendship. Of course, you felt a little more than friends towards Inui continuously expressing your feelings from early on.

“Y’know you’re super cute Seishu-“ you tilted your head, hovering it above his “no wonder there’s tons of people feening over you, me included.” you added, tracing a finger over his scar as he lay his head on your lap.

“Yeah? Same goes for you Y/N.” he replied with his tone full of sarcasm, according to him you were making a joke.

This continued for months, constantly sharing flirty remarks but never pursuing one another. Some people had their suspicions, Draken especially, always assuming you’re both in a secret relationship.

“Oi, Seishu your girlfriend’s outside.” Draken nodded towards the entrance of the shop, wiping his hands clean with a rag.

Inui exhaled followed with a roll of his eyes. “She’s just a friend Ken, i’ve told you this multiple times.”

“Seriously just a friend? That mean i have a chance ‘nupi?” Draken giggled, elbowing his colleague in the arm.

“Don’t you dare even try it.” Seishu warned him.

“There, all cleaned up. There’s some leftovers in the fridge too if you’re hungry.” you declared, but before you could retreat back to the sofa, a soft hand grasped you wrist.

“Thank you, genuinely Y/N. I hope you know i’m grateful for everything you do.”

His glossy eyes stared into yours as his sincere words spilled from his mouth. Seishu’s gaze left you with butterflies, a feeling of comfort you would admit, it was odd to see him so thankful seeing as you should be considered a burden to him for how often you seek his safety.

“I know you are, buuut all that praise will have my ego inflating, on another note it was kinda hot seeing your face all bloody.” you laughed kissing above his wound gently before finding a seat on the sofa.

Moments later Inui joined you, resting his head on your shoulder making use of the rest of the couch as he sprawled out his legs. Once he was settled, you both shared a mutual silence watching the TV.

...11:04pm

Your narrowing eyes scanned over your phone, squinting at it’s bright screen shining into your pupils as you attempted to read the time. ‘Shit, must’ve fell asleep.’ you concluded, shifting your weight onto your elbow as you propped up.

You noticed the familiar blondie sleeping tirelessly beside you, an arm positioned lazily over of your waist. Seishu was sound asleep, or so you thought, his ruffled hair tickling your cheeks as you found yourself laying back down facing towards him.

“So precious.” you whispered, lifting your palm gently onto his face as your thumb rubbed slow circles against his pale skin. This was probably the closest you and Seishu had been, cuddled together, bodies attached to one another seeing as the sofa wasn’t roomy enough.

“That feels nice.” Seishu whispered, his soft spoken voice breaking the silence. He brought his hand to yours, placing it on top as he matched your movements, fingers delicately tracing your skin.

“Oh- uhm, well it looks like we fell asleep, i hope you feel somewhat better after having a nap.” you croaked, suddenly feeling the heat rush to your face from embarrassment. Before you lingered around any longer, you sat upright as your back faced Seishu’s figure “I’ll let you rest a little longer-“

“No, stay.” he grabbed your wrist once again, restricting you from fleeing the scene. “Please…for me?” he pleaded, one arm resting on top of his forehead as the other hand was still wrapped around your wrist.

You hesitated, only for a second until you shortly gave into his innocent eyes face paired with a soppy look. “Anything for you Seishu.” you lay back down, again facing towards him on your side.

“Perfect.” he muttered a breathy whisper, a small smile formed on his face along with his emerald eyes flexing a lustrous stare. A dainty finger of his trailed across your cheek moving a strand of hair from your face.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed again, almost tongue-tied especially in this situation. You and Seishu were admittedly always close but never this intimate.

Once again the atmosphere grew silent but before you could mutter a word, Seishu let out a sigh. “You’re…perfect.” Inui murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Seishu…” a soft exhale escaped your lips.

Inui’s hand found it’s way to your chin, gently lifting it upwards so you were eye level to him. “Can i kiss you, Y/N?” his thumb swiped a slow stripe along your lower lip.

You nodded in reply, discreetly trying to hide your inner enthusiasm as you closed your eyes allowing Inui to take the lead. Seishu’s lips planted a longed for soft-lipped peck against yours, gradually finding motion as he continued kissing your lips.

The thumping of your heart increased, focusing only on the rhythm of how soft and velvety Seishu’s lips felt against your own. His a hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer against him without breaking contact.

Your free hand grasped his blonde locks, running your fingers messily through his hair. Your lips begun to plump, meshing together with Seishu’s perfectly as he slipped his needy tongue into your mouth.

“You- don’t know…how long i’ve- wanted this.” his voice muttered between kisses, claiming your lips after every word. You felt yourself grinding ever so slightly against Inui’s thigh, hoping to release the friction caused by his tongue senselessly invading the depths of your mouth.

Faint whimpers escaped your lips as you continued to slowly rock yourself against Inui’s lower half. “Seishu~“ you panted quietly “N-need more.” your hand balled up his shirt, gripping onto it for support.

Inui’s hand which recently held onto your waist found itself sneakily travelling under your cami, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. He made quick work of removing your shirt slowly followed by slipping off your undergarment.

“God, you’re gorgeous Y/N. So fucking gorgeous.” he admitted, lips tracing along the outline of your jaw as his eyes glistened at the sight of your naked breasts exposed in front of him. “Prettiest tits ever.” His soft hands ghosting over your breasts, thumb and pointer finger capturing one of your hardened nubs beginning to knead the flesh of your mounds.

Seishu slowed his pace, a small string of saliva connected your lips as he broke the kiss. “Tell me what you need angel. Although i must say, the rutting against my leg isn’t very discreet darling.” he joked letting out a small chuckle, eyes glancing down to your clothed needy cunt.

“Want you to…“ you struggled to express your needs, unable to finish your sentence as you buried your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Don’t go all shy on me now angel, use your words for me okay?” Seishu placed a hand over your tight shorts, pads of his fingers rubbing against your clothed pussy as moved them up and down ever so slightly.

“Ngh! Want more of that, please Seishu.” you choked, almost begging on your knees asking him to please your throbbing cunt. Seishu made quick work of removing your lower garments, pulling down your shorts as he was met with your drenched panties.

“Look at that mess darling, you got this wet just for me?” he caressed your face again, helping you lay underneath him as he moved further down to your lower area, delicately peppering kisses along your stomach.

Inui’s hot breath fanned lightly over your clit “May i?” he questioned. “Yes Seishu.” you replied almost immediately, lifting your hips a little higher to allow easier access to your heat.

Inui’s hands spread your things, gripping onto them for support. His tongue licked a stripe between your folds, coating your cunt with his spit. “Mhm, just how i imagined.” Seishu continued to speak careless whispers into your cunt, his tongue twirling it’s way onto your throbbing clit ultimately forcing you to grind your hips on his face.

His tongue toyed with your bud, circling hearts as he pleasured your arousal. Inui slipped a finger into your entrance, slowly pushing it further before adding a second finger in to accommodate it. “Seishu! Fuck!” you cried out, moaning into you palm.

“Let me hear that voice of yours Y/N.” Inui encouraged you, his eyes staring from above your seeping cunt fingers pumping into you at an increasing speed. “Ngh! Seishu- i’m close!” your hand pushing his head further into your pussy.

Inui’s fingers padded against your sweet spot, curling in motion as he pumped them in and out of your cunt. His tongue continued licking your throbbing clit sucking onto it simultaneously. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna make me cum from that look on your face.” he moaned, fingers scissoring into you faster.

“Fuck~ Seishu- i’m-“ you were cut off by your own moans, legs shaking from the sudden orgasm as your wet slick spilled from your entrance. “Good girl.” Inui let out a hoarse whisper as he pulled his fingers out which glistened in the dim light covered from the tip of his finger to his knuckles in your own cum.

Inui stuck his digits into his mouth, sucking off every last drop of you. “You did so well for me angel, i’ve waited so long for this exact moment.” he exclaimed, hovering above your face before kissing you on the lips again.

“Seishu…i need more of you, right now.” you demanded, a hand palming the tent growing in his pants. Seishu picked you up, resulting in you straddling his lap on the sofa as he sat beneath you. You lifted your hips before quickly pulling down his shorts letting his cock immediately spring free.

Your eyes grew wide. You never expected Seishu to have such a pretty cock, nevermind larger than you’d have imagined. “Like what you see? Seem’s like you underestimated me darling.” he caressed your waist “Lift yourself up for a sec.” as he tapped the outer side of your thigh.

“Wait- wait…i’m on birth control.” you mentioned stopping Inui from getting a condom from the drawers. “You sure about this?” he smirked somewhat enjoying the fact he gets to fuck you raw the first time.

You nodded again, his tip begun toying against your wet folds before casually slipping the head into your dripping entrance. “Agh~ Fuck Seishu!” you let out a breathy moan, eventually taking the full length of his cock. “So tight, ngh- oh fuck.” Inui spoke, guttural whimpers releasing from the depths of his throat as he buried himself deep inside your cunt.

His hands gripped your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he pulled you gently down onto him. You both adjusted to the position, flashing Seishu a look of encouragement as he slowly started to bounce you on his cock, his hips slightly lifting along with yours.

“You like that yeah? Look at those pretty tits.” he mewled as he buried his face onto one of your exposed breasts, tongue ravaging your perky nipples. “Faster- please.” your hand finding its way to the back of his neck.

Inui bucked his hips into you, bouncing you faster onto his rock hard cock. The smacks of your ass echoed throughout the room as they collided with Seishu’s thighs, your tits bouncing along with every movement as Inui pounded further into your cunt. He quickened his pace again, this time you begun grinding faster matching with his speed in which your legs almost turned to jelly from the fastened movements.

“G’na cum so quick baby~.” you whined, dragging out his pet name whilst throwing your head back as he plowed into your pussy. The adrenaline mixed with arousal was too much, your eyes beginning to roll back from the way Seishu’s tip prodded against your g-spot like he was a miner digging for gold.

Seishu kept a firm grip on your ass, still pounding into you as he continued sucking on your tits giving each one equal attention. “Need- agh- your cum on my cock darling.” manoeuvring his hand to your pulsating clit as he thumbed your nub generously. “Yes ngh~ want you so bad Seishu, want your cum inside me.” you choked out, drawing out your moans from the stimulation his cock was causing as he abused your sex.

Inui flipped you over, cock still fucking your tight cunt as you lay on your back, legs wrapping around his waist. “I’ll fuckin’ give it to you Angel, fill- agh- you up with my cum real good.” he cooed, voice almost gravelly from his own moaning.

He smacked his hips against your ass, cock slipping from your hole a few times. “Wettest cunt I've had.” Inui quipped. “The only cunt you’ll ever have from now.” you sent another remark back. 

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

His fingers padded against your clit, vigorously rubbing against it paying close attention to the nub. “Shit- g’na cum gorgeous.” Inui let out another guttural moan “Let’s- cum together.” he ordered you, quickly intertwining your fingers with his as he took your hand. 

Seishu somehow gathered his stamina letting out a few final hard thrusts along with you bucking into him, your walls gradually spasming around his cock. “Agh- Fuck~” you simultaneously croaked, Inui came inside your cunt. Your wet slick spilled all over his cock along with your insides overflowing with Seishu’s seed.

A slow and steady pace allowed you to both ride out your highs, Seishu caressed your cheek removing your hair stuck to your face. “My god you’re gorgeous Y/N.” he pulled himself out, the mess inside leisurely spilling from your entrance.

“Hold on Angel, I'll clean you up.” Seishu grabbed a rag from the washroom, helping you gently as he tided the mess. He came back in his nightwear, seemingly grabbed a shirt that was his which he placed over your head, covering your exposed body just before he lay beside you on the sofa. 

Inui held you tight against him, wrapping his arms around your figure. He knew how to make you feel safe and extremely comfortable, only two of the things on your never ending list of praise for him.

After a short lived moment of silence, you exhaled out a tired sigh “Seishu...I think I lo-”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You jolted. Almost speechless at his sudden confession, dumbfounded even, burying your face away from his vision once again “No fair, I was gonna say it first.” you complained, lightly pushing his chest. “I wanted to be the first to say it-” he reassured your complaints “I was just looking for the right time.”

“Crazy how it was after you fucked me, eh?” shooting a cheeky wink towards his face. “Yeah right it was a spur of the moment, you were about to say it too.” he spoke in defence, giving you a kiss on the forehead as an apology.

“Not sure why I waited so long, I guess I was just afraid of hurting you.” his answer was sincere, stroking your hair tenderly “I really do love you Y/N-”

“Not to mention how my head no longer hurts, all thanks to you.” Inui gloated.

You sighed, probably in relief after realising the love you shared for him wasn't just some one sided waste for all these years. “I love you too Seishu-” you replied.

“...always and forever.”

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

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[migilini]

Could you please write one of those Tiktok "I tried to kiss my bestfriend / crush" challenge for either Charlie or Owen. Thanks!

Crushtok - Owen Patrick Joyner

A/N: Yes ofc I can! I never wrote for Owen so let me know what you think! I hope you like it :)

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: tiktok and noise (so none really)

Requests are open!

MASTERLIST

--------‐--------------

The sun poked through curtains and you swore that you had heard birds the day before but it was loud, uncomfortably so. All you heard was the clacking of metal and the rattling of the machinery that the construction in front of Owens Appartement made. All the unpleasant noises woke you up in the early morning. Grumbling, you tried to block out the noise with a pillow pressed against your face.

"That's not gonna work sleepy beauty" a lower voice croaked, catching you completely off guard so you let out a quiet shriek. "Oweenn why do you have to scare me badly in the morning?" You whined and took the pillow away from your face.

He sat on the other side of the couch, just underneath your feet and looked absolutely tired. His blonde hair was standing up in every possible direction, his normally piercing blue eyes trying their best to stay open. By the way, he was looking at you with a little smirk on his lips, you figured that you didn't look any better.

"Because it's 6 am on a Saturday morning and I didn't want to suffer alone. So lucky you for visiting me this week!" Owen exclaimed and hit your leg in a joking manner.

"I've got thrown out by my landlord. I'm not here on my own terms..." this earned you a shocked gasp from the boy sitting in front of you. "And there I was, thinking this friendship meant something to you." You just rolled your eyes with a smirk.

"Do you want to come back to my bedroom? With some music playing it's much quieter than out here." Nodding tiredly, he held out a hand to help you stand up; you only noticed when you nuzzled into his bed that he didn't let go of your hand.

You woke up a couple of hours later, quiet pop music filled the darkroom and it was hot, your bare legs sticking to the duvet covers. You turned around and faced a back with broad shoulders that were just moments ago pressed against your back. Groaning, you stuck your legs out of the bed, the cold air cooling you down immediately. Owen stirred next to you and sat up slowly.

"Morning part 2." you chuckled and automatically pushed some of his hair out of his face.

"Mornin" he mumbled back.

"You were right it's much quieter in your room."

You stood up, stretching your limbs, before heading back into the living room where all your stuff was stored, quite impractically but it was stored.

You heard a shower running, that gave you the perfect time to change from your big shirt and little pants sleep attire to a more comfortable day outfit. After rummaging through your boxes, that you packed in a freezy, you choose some brown cotton pants with a white body and to top it off your favourite purple cardigan that Owen gifted you one Christmas. With some extra time, you put on your glasses and started to search for a new place to stay.

"So what do you wanna do today? I have nothing going on so..." you stopped listening as Owen walked into the living room shirtless. He wore some blue sweatpants that hung quite low on his hips, his chest still sparkling from the water.

You would have probably started to drool if he wouldn't have worn his hair in a towel bun.

You let out a laugh that made him stop in his tracks.

"What?" he stared at you intensely.

"Oh, nothing princess... nothing. We uh... could look at some apartments for me and just go for a drive?"

"Am I that bad of a roommate?" he said and plopped down next to you on the couch his arm resting on the top comfortably.

"No but I would really appreciate a place to store my stuff properly." you continued to scroll through places to stay.

"This one looks good." he pointed out and put his finger on the screen, you hadn't realised that he rested his arm just above your shoulders so it took you off guard when you suddenly felt his arm on your neck.

"Mhmm, but you cant look at it today... This one though has a viewing in the late afternoon."

"Then that's our plan for today."

++

"Y/N! Y/N!" Owen screamed loudly from the kitchen "Come here real quick."

With your phone still in one hand, you waddled over to your best friend. "What's the emergency?" you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do this TikTok with me." he pleaded and looked at you with a slight pout, shoving his phone in your face. Your eyes scanned the screen and then you scoffed, "First of all since when are you on lesbian TikTok? And secondly, that's a bit... explicit... don't you think?"

"W- Our lips don't have to touch! I don't have anybody else to do it with! Y/N Come On!" he yelled after your figure who left the kitchen with a shaking head and hot cheeks.

Your thought didn't stop racing for the rest of the day. Did Owen want to kiss you? Or was he just so comfortable with your friendship that he really didn't care? You hated that you were a cliche, falling in love with your childhood best friend. Growing up you were always the one rolling your eyes at your parents who thought that you and Owen would make just such a cute couple but here you were, sitting on his couch, your heart beating in your chest and extremely conscious of his presence.

Little did you know that Owen felt the exact same. Over the years and especially puberty, he started to develop feelings for you. At first, he tried to deny them, telling himself that it's just that he's used to you being around but then he left to pursue his acting career and he missed you more than everything in the world. Not a single day went by when he didn't think of you or tried to call you. Ever since then, he tried to be close to you in one way or the other, he didn't care if it was just his leg touching yours or your body heat warming him up.

Due to the fact that you were both anxious people, neither of you ever made a move. He missed your longing stares and you missed the way he was checking you out every time he looked at you.

His friends finally talked some confidence into him and so he took little steps into what should eventually lead to him confessing his love for you. He started to flirt more with you, give you loads of compliments and asked you if you wanted to do some TikTok or lives with him.

Tapping on your shoulder made you look up from your phone, the TikTok you've been watching looping on your screen. Owen stood next to you, his phone pointed to you, a mischievous smirk prominent on his face and whipped cream can in his other hand.

"No." you tried to be serious but a chuckle escaped your lips. Owen turned the camera to him and sprayed some cream into his mouth then stared at you with squinted eyes, the whipped cream flowing out of his mouth.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds, your brain in overdrive, hands sweaty and heart beating rapidly. An idea washed over you and you tilted your head before leaning in close. Owen's eyes went wide and he nearly choked on the cream. But you weren't gonna kiss him seconds before your lips would have met, you halted. Then you slowly took the can of whipped cream out of his hand and sprayed it all over his head.

"You didn't!" he gasped with a full mouth while you laid on the floor, holding your stomach in laughter. Something wet hit your face that stopped you from laughing further. Owen had a massive grin on his face, one hand dripping slightly and his hair, less creamy.

"Be cautious Joyner" you warned standing up on your tiptoes to be as close to him as possible, your pointer finger pressing into his chest "I know where your bed sleeps."

You tried to back out of the situation, knowing damn well that it can easily get out of hand with you two and a whipped cream match would make a lot of mess. But Owen being the child he is, didn't back out, instead, he ripped the can out of your hand and sprayed it down your back.

The war ended peacefully. The cans of whipped cream, yes you found more cans, laying somewhere in the living room both of you covered from head to toe, breathing heavily. Owen held his hands up in surrender and looked up to your position on the coffee table.

"Ha! I win! Told you I didn't want to do the TikTok." you smiled triumphantly. "I say loser cleans this up." before Owen could protest you sprinted to the shower. Lucky for you he actually started to clean up when you walked out of the bathroom, dressed in comfortable sweats and one of Owens hoodie, your damp hair falling over your shoulders.

"Hey Y/N?" Owen asked somehow nervously. "Yes darling?" you answered with a bad British accent.

"Can you come here for a second?"

"Owen I'm not doing that TikTok with you, you just saw how that ended," you argued but made your way over to him. He stood in the middle of the room, his phone propped up on a shelf.

"You have something on your face." you chuckled and whipped away some dried leftovers from your previous war.

"Can you react to this song? I don't remember where I know it from" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd behaviour just moments ago he was normal and now he acted very strangely.

"Sure." he pulled you in front of him, his hands resting on your shoulders.

'Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

I can't let you go now that I got it'

“Sounds like BORNS…” you whispered more to yourself than to him and continued to listen to the song “Are you sure you just haven't…” you turned around to face him.

Owen took this as his opportunity to cup your face with both of his hands, softly pressing his lips to yours.

Your breath hitched and it took you a second to realise what was happening. The confidence Owen had just moments ago vanished when you didn't kiss him back immediately. Why should you? You never gave a hint that you liked him like that as well.

Just as he was about to pull away and apologize profusely, you overcame your state of shock. Your arms grabbed his hips to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. You felt him smile against your lips. Your stomach erupted with butterflies, your whole body tingled and your cheeks felt hot.

He was the first one to pull away, resting his forehead on yours. Both breathing heavily, the filming camera was completely forgotten, you looked in each other's eyes.

“I wanted to do that for so long,” you admitted and unconsciously bit your lip. Owen gulped heavily, “Me too but, what the hell! I mean how crazy is that?!”

[alitaimagines]

“all I want is everything, yes everything, too much is not enough. I’m sick of settling for in between and I’m not giving up."

YUKIO OKUMURA ☆ BLUE EXORCIST

☆ previous imagine: ♡  ☆ masterlists: ♡ ♡

☆ note: I wanted to write an au! with jealous yukio. PLEASE VIEW MY LAST POST!!

“hey Yuki!” you said as you plopped yourself down next to him, “whatcha doin’?” you asked giving him puppy eyes.

Yukio sighed knowing you wanted something. you never came up to him with that face unless you did something wrong or wanted something from him. he looked over to you with a semi-annoyed expression.

“so, Rin and Shima are having a party later tonight and you should totally come,” you mentioned as you sat on your knees, pouting your lip, “Rin told me to tell you that as his twin brother, you need to been in attendance of the first party of the year,” you added on.

Yukio growled lowly.

ever since you moved in with Yukio, Rin had to compromise and find another roommate, leaving him to bunk with Shima. the two of them were finally ‘settled in’ as they liked to call it and wanted to throw a party.

“and I’m guessing he wanted you to tell me so I couldn’t deny the offer?” you nodded cutely making him sigh, “fine but I’ll only be there for a few hours. you know I hate partying,” you clapped happily before placing a kiss on his cheek and texting Rin that Yukio attending the party was a go.

throughout the entirety of both of your college careers, Yukio attended maybe at least two parties with you. you usually went out with Rin considering Yukio oddly enough trusted Rin to keep you safe if anything ever went wrong.

he would usually ask how the party was and left it at that. however, there was a few times where you had to hide the fact that some of the people were little overly-friendly and Rin had to step in and tell them to back off. it wasn’t that you were trying to hide it from him but Rin, as well as yourself, knew Yukio would more than likely try to find whoever it was and give them a word or two.

a few hours later, you were putting the final touches to your outfit when Yukio walked in to see if you were ready to go.

“hey Yuki!” you said giving him a kiss, “you look...nice,” he murmured under his breath. you laughed knowing exactly what he meant, “I’m dressing this way only for you, Okumura. don’t start getting jealous!” you joked.

Yukio rolled his eyes as he brought you closer to him and hid his face in your neck, “I’m not jealous. just don’t expect me to let anyone come near you,” he warned making you laugh, this time a bit more nervous.

after you put your shoes on, you and Yukio hopped into the car and made your way to Rin’s apartment. you could tell Yukio was a bit annoyed that he actually had to leave the comfort of his house, on a Saturday no less, to attend a party with college students acting like completely idiots.

“we have arrived!” you screamed to Rin and Shima as both of them whipped their heads up, “hey!!” Rin screamed back as he ran to Rin.

Yukio patted his twin on the back as you grabbed yourself a White Claw [I frankly find them disgusting] and a water for Yukio, “did you invite half the damn campus? why is there so many people?” you asked Rin as he looked over to Shima.

“he invited almost every person who was in a frat or sorority and told them to bring friends” Rin replied a bit annoyed. you chuckled as you found an empty couch for you and Yukio to sit on, “but have fun and I mean that fully towards Yukio,” Rin joked making Yukio punch him on the arm.

you and Yukio talked with a few of your friends as Rin turned the lights low and the music suddenly turned to a few slow song. you looked over to Yukio and offered your hand to him to which he reluctantly agreed.

“Yukio, enjoy the damn night!” you whispered in his ear as you noticed him becoming more and more stiff the more the two of you danced, “it’s not that I’m not enjoying it. I can see the looks some people are giving you and it’s annoying,” he responded making your face warm up in a flustered manner.

you shook your head before going in for a kiss. luckily for Yukio, the living room was dark enough to where no one could see the two of you making out. you knew that sometimes your kisses could distract him from whatever was bothering him.

“and they can look as much as they want. I came here with you and I’m leaving here with you,” you whispered in between kisses, “now forget everyone else and slow dance with me. when’s the next time we’re going to be like this?” you asked rhetorically.

Yukio put his forehead on yours, “our wedding,” you let out a mixture of a squeal and a nervous laugh as the song ended.

you and Yukio watched Rin get on top of a chair with a pan and spoon in his hand before hitting it vigorously. you knew whenever Rin did that, it usually meant that a round of some drinking game was set to begin.

“I bet he’s going to want to play beer pong,” you whispered to Yukio, “he lost at the last party and he’s so determined with beating Bon,” Yukio laughed as he watched Rin come up to you.

“dude! you’re the only good person who knows how to play. be my partner?” he asked as you sighed, “Rin, I told you I would never be your partner again, especially after what happened last time,” you stated blankly making Rin start begging for a solid thirty seconds before Yukio told you to play with him so he could stop complaining.

you walked up to the table with Rin standing next to you excitedly. Yukio was standing on the side with a few other people.

Yukio was watching you talk with Rin but he couldn’t help but overhear what the others were saying about you. he tried to ignore the comments they were saying about the way you were dressed but the anger eventually became too much and he looked to them with a deadly glare.

“I suggest you stop making those comments about my girlfriend before I give you reason to shut your mouth,” the boys looked at him before laughing a bit too loudly, “or what? you’re gonna hurt us,” one of them mocked, “maybe you should reconsider the outfit your girlfriend wears out if you don’t like the comments she gets,” the other continued.

Yukio looked at you as he set his drink down and gave you a quick look before sending a wink and turning back to the two boys.

you stared back at Yukio, confused as to why he was so upset all of a sudden. before you could react, however, Yukio swung to one of the boys as his hand landed a clear punch to the boys nose.

“YUKIO!” you screamed as you and Rin dropped the game completely and ran over to him, “what happened?” you screamed as you stared down to the boy who was now bleeding profusely.

Rin and Shima looked at Yukio for an answer, “he was making comments about you and I dealt with it the way Rin would,” your hands covered your mouth in shock.

you grabbed Yukio’s now bloodied hand and dragged him to the bathroom as Rin, Shima, and Bon kicked the two boys out of the apartment.

“Yukio, you shouldn’t have done that,” you reprimanded softly, “you should have let it go or at least called me over,” you grabbed the only thing Rin had in the medicine cabinet to clean the small cuts on his hand.

“and you were going to do what?” he asked jokingly, “I don’t know. I could’ve punched them or Rin could have!” you exclaimed as you grabbed the gauze to start wrapping it.

“if I would have let Rin do that, he would’ve done a lot more damage than I would have,” you nodded knowing had a point, “still! the next time that happens, just walk away. I don’t want my boyfriend getting a ticket for assault,” you finally finished wrapping his hand before placing a kiss on it.

“but I appreciate you defending my honor,” you giggled as Rin walked in, “YO! THAT WAS THE SICKEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN YOU DO!” Rin yelled as you and Yukio told him to quiet down.

Rin grabbed Yukio by the shoulders before shaking him, “you broke his nose! do you realize that?” he continued to yell. you shook your head knowing Rin was probably too drunk to realize how loud he was being.

“we’re heading home now,” Yukio told Rin making his twin groan in annoyance, “it’s only two in the morning!” you nodded before slipping your hand into Yukio’s gauze wrapped one, “exactly. I’m tired and I’m sure Yukio wants to forget the rest of tonight. we’ll see you tomorrow,” you told Rin as he shook his head.

as you and Yukio made your way out to the car, you could help but lean into his ear, “and for defending my honor so well, as soon as we get home, I’ll show you my appreciation,” Yukio’s eyes widened, realizing what you meant as he chucked you over his shoulder and ran towards the car making you laugh.

ALITA

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Ten

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(fluff and some smut...TW: mention of past abuse)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

Masterpost

Your alarm went off promptly at 5:45AM. You woke up with your arms still around Harry. You didn’t want to move from his warm body. Slowly crawling out of bed, you went into the bathroom to have a quick shower. You threw your robe on when you were done, and picked out an outfit to wear, careful not wake him up. You put your hair up in a high pony, and opted for a pair of grey pin striped slacks and a baby blue blouse. You put on some makeup, and make your way to the kitchen.

“Baby?” You hear a faint voice, and turn around. You see Harry reaching for you. You go to his side, and kiss him on the top of his head.

“Sleep a little longer if you like.” You nuzzle your nose against his. “I need to make my smoothie and head to work.”

“I’ll leave my key on your counter, plants will be fine for today.”

“Okay.” You get up, but he grabs your wrist. You lean back down and kiss him on his soft lips. He gives you a sleepy smile.

“Have a good day at work.” He says, rolling over to his other side.

As you head to work your mind swims with thoughts of what it would be like to live with Harry. Would mornings be sleeyp like this? What time does he usually have to get up? You knew it was way too soon to even be thinking like this. You had only been together a little over a month, but the thought of coming home to him made you smile.

When you get to work, Niall greets you with your coffee. You tell him all about how Harry wants you to watch his plants while he’s away.

“So he’s leavin’ ya a key?”

“Mhm. It’s nice he trusts me so much. I didn’t even realize how many plants he had.”

“That’s because he has like two on his desk.” He smiles at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I’m just glad things are going so well for the two of ya.”

Harry got out of your bed around eight. He had to get up and start his day. He needed to get back to his place to pack for the rest of the week, and then get to the airport. He made your bed for you, and cleaned up the blender you left in the sink. He liked your place, there was so much room to spread out. For a moment, he thinks about what it would be like if he slept over more often. He couldn’t believe how quiet you were for him while you got ready. You were so considerate. He knew it was too soon to be thinking about being together all the time, but it still made him smile. He took out his key ring, and left his spare key on your counter like he said. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t sad. It’s not that he didn’t want to go to New Mexico, he actually really liked it there. He just didn’t want to be without you for a week. He hated the idea of you being without him during the weekend. That was your time to relax together, to cuddle, to kiss. He rolled his eyes at himself as he walked out of your place. He couldn’t believe how bad he had it for you.

Wednesday after work you went to his place to water his plants. He really did only have two on his desk, but they were dry. You wondered if even he remembered to water them regularly. You smelt something coming from his fridge. He forgot to empty it before he left. You took it upon yourself to clean it and out, and take out his trash. You wiped up his counters, and dusted a little as well. He was messy, the only part of his place being spotless was his bathroom. That must’ve been where he put most of his energy. You loved his place, it was cute, and the perfect size for him. You decide to send him a selfie of you with one of his plants so he’d know you stopped by. When you got home, you frowned. You suddenly didn’t like being by yourself at your place, especially knowing that he wouldn’t be able to just come over if you called.

He sent you back a selfie of him in the desert. He had a half smile and sunglasses on. He also sent along a kissy face emoji.

“Who’s that?” One of his colleagues asks him, looking over his shoulder.

“My girlfriend, she’s helping look after my place this week.”

“Didn’t realize you were seeing someone.” She nudges him with her elbow.

“Yeah, it’s been a little over a month, she’s great.” Harry smiles dumbly at the cute photo you sent him. “It’s only been a day, and I miss her.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet Harry. She’s a lucky lady.”

“Do you miss your girlfriend when you have to travel?”

“Oh, sure. It never gets easier, but when we finally get together, it’s amazing. Missing someone certainly makes the heart grow fonder.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sunday will be here before you know it.”

//

Thursday dragged on agonizingly slow for the both of you. Harry tried to Facetime you, but you missed him. When you tried him back, he texted back that he was busy. You missed him, it was only a couple of days, but you missed him. You desperately wanted to feel his arms wrapped around you. That night, you light a couple of candles in your room, and put some music on. Trying to get yourself in the mood, you think of him. You think of the way he would pinch your nipples, and slowly bring his hands down to your waist. You think of the way his thumb would move in figure eights around clit. Your hand slips between your legs, and you feel your own wetness. You picture his head between your legs and let out a sigh. You start rubbing yourself to the thought of his hot breath on you while his tongue would be making laps in your folds. You let out a small moan of his name as you have a small orgasm. You sigh frustrated, and force yourself to go to sleep.

//

Harry couldn’t help himself. He jacked off that night before bed thinking of you. He couldn’t help that his mind wandered to your lips wrapped around him. The thought alone was enough to make him hard. He was hoping the release would help him sleep, but it didn’t he stayed up all night thinking of you sleeping alone in your big bed.

He was busy all day Friday, unable to text you. Rachel invited you over for drinks after work, since Sarah would be out with Niall.

“Thanks again for having me over, you and I never get together just the two of us.” You smile at her as she hands you a glass of wine.

“I know! I’m so glad you were free. Sarah has been so MIA lately because of Niall. I’ve actually been kind of lonely.”

“I’m sorry Rach. Do you think you’ll start getting serious with anyone?”

“As soon as I find someone to get serious with, sure.” She shrugs and laughs. “It’s hard to find someone. Some girls just want you to experiment with or piss of their parents with, and some girls want to move in the second you start dating. There’s like no in-between. I’m actually content being single, it’s just more that I actually like having a roommate. Sarah is so fun to live with. She and I are supposed to hang out tomorrow, we’re gonna get brunch. You should come.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your alone time with her. I was actually hoping to see what Niall was up to tomorrow, I feel like he and I haven’t hung out one on one in ages.”

“Harry has taken up a lot of your free time.” Your face falls. “It’s not a bad thing. I’m actually really happy for you. You’re more of yourself with him in your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been different for a while. Which no one can blame you for, but it’s just been nice to see you laughing and smiling more is all.”

“He makes me really happy. Did I tell you he asked me to water his plants while he was away this week?”

“Really? That’s so cute. So, have you slept with him yet?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and laugh.

“God no. We’ve done other stuff, good stuff, but I’m not ready for that yet. I haven’t even let him finger me or anything.”

“What has he done with you then?”

“I’ve let him rub me, and he goes down on me a lot. We’ll also just kind of grind against each other. It’s nice. Plus, I’ve done things for him. He’s been very patient and understanding.”

“That’s good! And he makes you feel really good?”

“You have no idea, Rach. I don’t know how he got so good at it, but it feels amazing.” You blush a little. “I’ve never been with a guy that pays so much attention to my body.”

“When do you think you’ll let him go a little a further? I mean, aren’t you curious to see what those fingers can do?”

“Definitely, but anytime I think about it I just have bad flashbacks. I’ll get there with him, I know I will, I just need more time. I trust him, but it still has only been a little over a month, it’s not a lot of time to be together.”

“True, but you’re in a relationship with him. I don’t think he would go anywhere since he asked you to be his girlfriend.”

“I’m not worried about him going anywhere.”

“What are you worried about?”

“What if I have a bad flashback while he’s doing it? I’m afraid I’m going to freak out and he’s going to feel rejected. He’s…sensitive. I know he wouldn’t take it personally, but when you’re naked with someone you can’t help but feel like it’s about you, you know?”

“If I ever see that asshole that did this to you, I would surely punch him in the fucking face. I hate that because of what he did, you feel like you can’t even have this experience with your boyfriend.”

“Believe me, I feel the same exact way. Except I hope I never run into that bastard ever again.”

//

You text Niall Saturday, and ask him to come over while Sarah is at brunch with Rachel. He happily accepts, and comes over with some bagels and cream cheese from your favorite bakery. You hug as he comes into your place. You both get set up on the couch.

“So, how’s your week without Harry?”

“It’s been…okay. I definitely miss him. He’s been so busy, we’ve barely been able to talk. Just a few texts here and there.”

“Well, I’m glad you asked me to hang out.”

“Me too, how are things with Sarah?”

“Great, actually. She’s super smart and funny. We’re getting into more of a dating rhythm. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other when it first started.” He blushes a little. “It’s sort of still like that, but I wanted to show her I wanted more from her.”

“It’s so great to see you with someone, Niall. Selfishly, I’m glad it’s with one of my friends.”

“Same here.”

You two end up watching Stranger Things together, since it’s both your favorite show.  He left around eleven, and you were happy you got to spend some quality time with him.

//

Sunday, you got up, and put a cute pair of leggings on with a matching sports bra, and threw a zip up sweatshirt on over. You went to the grocery store for yourself, and decided to shop a little for Harry. You knew he’d be tired from his flight, and wanted to have some things in his fridge. You bought his favorite veggies and snacks, and filled up his fridge. You watered his plants, and were in the middle of vacuuming the rug under his bed when you heard a rustling. You turn the vacuum off, and turn around to see a tired Harry walking through the door. You blush a little, you must look like a psycho cleaning up his apartment, but he essentially asked you to house sit.

He gives you a big smile as he kicks his shoes off.

“Harry!” You squeal.

Something comes over you, and you run towards him, jumping into his arms. He lifts you slightly so you can wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you close, as you cup his face in your hands and kiss him. You bite down on his bottom lip, taking it into your mouth to suck on. He groans into you, and walks you both over to his bed. He lays you down, and he immediately gets on top of you. Re-wrapping your legs around his waist. He unzips your sweatshirt, and kisses you down your jaw, neck, and sucks on your skin furiously. You gasp at how hard he bites you, as it’s sure to leave a mark. He licks his tongue over the spot to try to soothe it. His hands reach down to your waistline, and start to tug at your leggings.

“Harry.” You say, trying to get his attention, but he keeps kissing on you, and tugging on your clothes. Your heart is beating fast, and not in a good way. “Harry! Stop!” He immediately sits up, and gets off of you, releasing your legs to the mattress. You catch your breath. “Sorry….um hi.” You smile at him, sitting up against the headboard.

“Hi, sorry, that was a little aggressive wasn’t it? I just,” He puts a hand on your cheek. “I missed you, and when you ran over to me, I just wanted to get lost in you. That whole trip was so stressful, I was excited to see your car down in the lot when I got here. And you looked so cute vacuuming. Why were you vacuuming?”

“I was just trying to tidy up. I didn’t want you coming back to a mess. I, uh, bought you some groceries too so you’d have some food to hold you over.” He smiles, then furrows his brows at your neck, and his cheeks flush. “What?”

“I really did a number on your neck, I’m so sorry. Sort of childish for me to give you a hickey.” You reach for the spot he was touching and you wince. “Did I scare you?”

“No, it wasn’t that. A lot was just happening fast.” You give him a reassuring smile. “But, I would like to keep kissing. Do you mind if I get on top of you?”

“Not at all.”

He flops onto his back, and holds his arms out for you. You climb on top of him and straddle his legs. You lean down and start kissing again. Years ago, you would have been happy to have a guy like Harry grab at you the way he did. You were so flattered that he just wanted to rip your clothes off. But his quick hands triggered you for a moment. Your tongue slips into his mouth, and molds together with his. You missed the taste of him. Your thoughts trail to the other night, when you had to touch yourself at the thought of him.

He presses his hips to you, and you roll yours down on him. He reaches around to your ass and squeezes your cheeks in his big hands. You moan into his mouth, and tug at his shirt. He sits up slightly so you can lift it off him. Your hands trace over his tattoos, and your mouth connects with his earlobe. You grind down on him while he presses his hips up to you again. You move against him faster and faster.

“Oh, Harry.” You say into his neck. One hand in his hair and the other on his chest.

“Come for me baby.” He says into your ear.

“You know, while you were away I thought of you.” You say to him in a low voice, while you continue to grind against him.

“Tell me about it.”

“I thought of having your head between my legs, and it made me so hot.”

“I thought of you too. I thought of those lips wrapped around me.”

“Oh god.” Your hand claws at his chest as you come undone. “Holy shit.” You press your head into his neck, and you lay on top of him.

He tries to move so he can look at you, but you hide your face with your hands. You feel his body move from laughter.

“Don’t get shy on me now, baby.” You mumble something, and he pulls your hands away. “Pardon?”

“I said, I can’t believe I just told you that.” Your cheeks are beat red.

“Why? Nothin’ wrong with a little dirty talk.” He smiles at you.

“So, you, uh, thought of me sucking your dick?”

“Yup. Although, I don’t think the memory did it justice.”

“How would you like a new memory?”

You reach down and unzip his jeans. You scoot down between his legs, and tug his pants down just below his butt, bringing his boxers with them. His hard dick slaps his stomach, as it comes out of his pants. You lick your lips, and wrap your mouth right around him. He hisses at the incredible sensation. His hands go right into your messy bun, and presses his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You bob your head up and down, and you try to take more of him. Your eyes fill with tears as you feel yourself almost gag on him. He needs this, he needs you to take it all right now, so you continue.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come baby.” He says through gritted teeth. You look up at him, and make sinful eye contact while he fills your mouth and throat with his hot liquid. This time you take it much better, and you’re able to not choke on him. You keep it all in your mouth, and you contemplate spitting, but you see him watching you. You take big gulp, and swallow everything. He leans up, and pulls down onto his chest. “You’re so good at that, you have no idea how fucking good that feels.” He says stroking your head.

“I think I have a little idea.” You say looking up at him. “Are you hungry? I got some fresh sushi and it’s in the fridge.”

“Sushi would be great.” Harry pulls his pants back up, and follows you to the kitchen.

You pull the sushi out of the fridge, and Harry wraps his arms around you.

“What kind ya get?”

“I got a sweet potato roll and an avocado roll.”

“Oo, my favorite.” He kisses you on the cheek.

You both dig into the sushi, and it’s gone in minutes. Harry leans against the counter, and just looks at you.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just glad you’re here.” You lean into him and wrap your arms around him.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, love.” He kisses the top of your head, and pulls you in closer to him. “Whatcha do this weekend?”

“I hung out with Rachel Friday night, and then Niall and I hung out yesterday. It was nice to catch up with him. Him and Sarah are doing really well, he likes her so much.”

“I’m glad you got to see your friends. If there’s ever a weekend I take up too much of your time, just tell me. I don’t want to keep you from you from them.” You step back to see him more clearly.

“You’re not keeping me from anyone, babe. It’s not like I saw them all the time before we started dating anyways. I actually saw Niall more than the girls. It was hard to see them after everything happened, I sort of distanced myself. We all got together for my 24th birthday over the summer and it made me realize how much I missed hanging out with the girls, so they’ve slowly come back into my life.”

“Alright, I just want to make sure, that’s all.”

“What about you, do you feel like you’re not seeing your friends enough?”

“No, I see Niall plenty.”

“What about your other friends?”

“The lads all live a couple hours out, he’s my closest friend here.” He looks down then back to you. “I like spending my time with you.” You could melt at how sweet he is. You put a hand on his cheek.

“You are so sweet, you know that?” He takes you in to kiss you, and you sink into it. Before your eyes close, you realize it’s already after eight. “Shit, Harry, I gotta go.” His face falls.

“Why?”

“Because I need to get home, and meal prep. Then I need to fold and put my laundry away. I left it a mess on my bed.”

“I’m sorry, you spent so much time cleaning up my place…”

“No, no it’s okay. I got sort of carried away. I know when I go away I like to come back to a clean place, and I wanted to do the same for you.” You reach into your purse, pull out the key he gave you, and put it on the counter. Harry furrows his eyebrows at it.

“You…um…” He wants to tell you to keep it, so you can continue to come and go as you please, but he stops himself. It’s too soon for you to have a key to his place. “Thanks.” Is all he can think of to say. “For everything this week.”

“You’re welcome, happy to do it anytime.” You smile at him. “I better go.” You kiss him quick on the lips and head out.

//

Harry immediately takes his phone out and calls Niall.

“Hey mate, you back?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s up?”

“She gave me back my key.”

“Did she need to keep it?”

“I don’t know…she could have if she wanted to. She just took it out, without me even needing to ask, like she didn’t want it or something.”

“I think you’re reading too far into this, mate. Do you remember a few years ago when that girl you dated had to practically beg you for a key to your place? You freaked out and ended it. And you were with her for like seven months.”

“This is different, I didn’t feel the way about her the way I feel about (y/n), and that was back when I was like 23, I was a prick.”

“Yeah, you were. So why not tell she should keep it?”

“I didn’t want to seem clingy. Then she would feel obligated to give me one, and I didn’t want to pressure her. I almost fucked up tonight anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I got in she jumped on me, and I brought us over to the bed, and I got a little too frisky too fast, and she had to tell me to stop.”

“Oh, Jesus, is she okay.”

“Yeah, she was fine, we ended up, doing other stuff, but I could tell I fucked up. I hate this, that guy got to know her for like four dates?”

“You’re doing the right thing by being patient, just keep doing what you’re doing. It’ll be worth it. Hey can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“So, I’ve been seein’ Sarah for a couple of weeks, and you know I’m terrible at coming up with date ideas. I think she’s getting bored with just stayin’ in.”

“What does she like to do?”

“She likes going to the movies, but every time we do that we end up making out and missing the movie.”

“How old are you?”

“Normally I wouldn’t do something like that, but I can’t help it.”

“Okay, what if, um, what if the four of us went on a double date? We could go ice skating or something, the season is just starting up, so it won’t be crazy busy yet.”

“You and I always get so competitive on double dates though.”

“Oh stop, you mean you get competitive. I’m just myself. Besides, (y/n) has mentioned doing that a couple times, it could be fun. We could go Friday night after work.”

“Yeah, alright. Want me to ask her tomorrow?”

“I can ask my own girlfriend if she wants to go on a date, thanks.”

“I wasn’t talking about her, I was talking about Sarah.”

“Oh, right, yeah ask her tomorrow.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Harry hangs up, and sighs big. All he wants to do is shower, and get into bed.

//

Monday evening you get a call from Harry while you’re at the gym. Normally you wouldn’t answer, but you could tell his mood changed yesterday when you left that key on his counter. You thought you were doing what he wanted. Why would you keep his key? Wouldn’t that be too soon? You put down the weights you’re holding, and head near the locker room.

“Hey babe.” You say cheerfully.

“Hi love.”

“How was your day?”

“Good, I worked from home so I could sleep in a bit. I was wicked jet lagged.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. It’s nice you can work from home when you can.”

“Yeah. Um, do you have plans Friday night?”

“Not that I can think of, why?”

“Well, Niall and I were wondering if you and Sarah would want to go on a double date? We were thinking of ice skating.” You try to hide the squeal brewing.

“I would absolutely love that! And I know she would too, we love ice skating. Oh and the season is just starting too, this’ll be so much fun.”

“Great, I’m glad you’re into it.”

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been ice skating, I’m so excited.”

[flowerfan2]

Private Time

I’ve been reading and writing (and living with) so much angst lately, I decided to indulge in some silly, sexy funtimes with a fandom I haven’t visited in a while.  Enjoy.

Klaine, 2k, A03.

Summary:  Living with his grad student roommates in quarantine, private time is hard to come by...

Blaine is generally very happy living in the somewhat rickety four-bedroom house he shares with three other grad students.  It’s not too far from school, it’s got a workable washer and dryer in the basement, and the kitchen was renovated sometime in the past twenty years so it’s perfectly adequate for making whatever quick meals he manages to scrounge together after class.

But boy, are the walls thin.

This hasn’t been a problem until recently, when COVID-19 struck.  School has gone online, but unlike the undergrads, Blaine and his roommates have a lease and all of them decided to endure the quarantine here in Somerville, Massachusetts rather than go home.  According to Kurt, Somerville may not be where he wants to end up, but it’s far better than the Midwest town he grew up in and he has no desire to weather the quarantine back in Lima.

Thanks to the quarantine, Blaine has learned this and many more facts about his flatmates  – and yes, they have all taken to calling it a flat, after an evening which started out with teasing Sam about how he likes to talk with a fake British accent turned into one of the most carefree nights Blaine has had in a long time.  Apparently all it took was a few bottles of cheap wine and a defrosted cheesecake from Star Market to loosen them all up.

 “We’re proper mates, now,” Sam had announced, waving his arms and nearly knocking over a lamp in the process.  By the time they had all wandered off to bed, Blaine had learned that Kurt’s favorite singer was Lady Gaga, that Rachel had taken a year off from school to film a television pilot, and that Sam played the guitar rather well, as long as it was country music.

 Blaine has liked Sam since they met playing intramural soccer in the fall.  So when Sam mentioned last month that they had a spare bedroom, Blaine quickly took him up on the offer.  Blaine’s previous apartment was lonely and smelled like something had died in the ceiling, so it was really a no brainer.

 What had caught Blaine by wonderful, wonderful surprise, however, was that Kurt Hummel was one of Sam’s roommates.  Blaine had seen Kurt perform in a production of Macbeth back in October, and had been mesmerized by the man’s performance.  It hadn’t even occurred to him that Kurt was a regular grad student just like he was, not until Sam gave him the tour of the house and Kurt waved to him from the kitchen where he was gossiping with Rachel over skinny margaritas.

 With just a smile and a nod and an agreement to take his turn putting out the trash, Blaine gained three roommates, including the guy he had been crushing on for months.  Not bad for a Wednesday.

 Much to Blaine’s dismay, simply moving into the house didn’t result in any quality time with Kurt. Between school and performances Kurt was hardly ever home, and Blaine’s schedule studying history and music theory was hardly better.  Since the stay at home order was put in place, however, it’s a whole new world. Now the four of them can hardly get away from each other.

 For the first two weeks of their enforced togetherness, everyone was on their best behavior, and the drama of it all gave them a shared sense of adventure.  Kurt sewed them all homemade masks, Blaine carefully organized grocery trips to minimize time in the stores, Sam tried to get them to adopt home fitness routines, and Rachel kept them apprised of the most interesting celebrity bits to watch on You Tube.

 But they are entering into week three of the quarantine, and the novelty is wearing off.  For one thing, Rachel has been getting more and more demanding about household details (she is constantly editing the chore wheel and claiming someone else did it), and while Kurt generally has acted as peacemaker when confronted with Rachel’s whims, even he seems to be getting tired of it. Sam hasn’t done his laundry at all since they got locked in, and Blaine is running out of hair gel.  Kurt has taken to cleaning the fridge so often that Rachel accused him of stealing cleaning supplies and rubber gloves from health care workers.

 They are all becoming short-tempered and irritable.  Blaine even catches himself snapping at Kurt, which is the last thing he wants to do. He’s worried that by the time the quarantine lifts, Kurt will never want to speak to him again, let alone date him.

 Blaine has a few tried and true strategies for when he gets like this, but none of them are working. Sam insists on running with him every time he goes out, and his well intentioned chatter prevents Blaine from finding any escape.  He can’t let off steam by boxing, because his gym is closed.  And as for the things he really knows would do the trick, especially after an afternoon of watching Kurt do ballet stretches in yoga pants, well… the walls of their apartment are very, very thin.

 Blaine knows this because Sam apparently feels no shame in indulging in his own solo activities. It’s easy to hear him, even from across the hall.  Given that Blaine’s bedroom shares a wall with Kurt’s, there’s no way Blaine’s going to risk Kurt hearing anything of the sort from Blaine’s room.

 Towards the end of the third week, Rachel calls a roommate meeting.  Blaine has just finished an endless zoom call with his research supervisor, and he feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his head if he doesn’t get his contacts out soon.  But Rachel insists, so they all gather in the sitting room, Sam and Blaine on the lumpy brown couch, and Kurt sitting on the edge of an armchair, looking to Blaine like he could be posing in a fashion magazine.

 “Thank you for coming,” Rachel begins, as if they had any real choice in the matter.  She launches into an overview of their past few roommate meetings, and brings up an excel spreadsheet on her computer, on which she has apparently made further edits to the chore wheel.

 Blaine tries not to be distracted by the way the asymmetrical neckline of Kurt’s cashmere sweater drapes over his collarbone when he leans forward to look at Rachel’s chart.

 “So I decided on Saturdays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” Rachel says, looking around the room for approval.   Blaine realizes he has lost the plot completely, but luckily he’s not the only one.

 “Wait, what?”  Sam asks.  Kurt has found a nail file somewhere and isn’t paying much attention either, but his mouth quirks up at little at Sam’s question, so he’s probably glad Sam is taking the blame for this one too.

 Rachel lets out a long suffering sigh, and places an Amazon box on the table.  “As I said, I haven’t been able to use the practice rooms for weeks now, and my vocal production is suffering.  I need to be able to focus properly on allowing my voice to soar over my accompaniment at its expected volume, without having to censor myself.”

 Sam still looks confused, and Rachel glares at him.  “I need to listen to loud music, and sing loudly, ok?  So I got these for all of us.”

 Sam frowns.  “I don’t mind if you sing, Rach.”

 Rachel’s hands clench at her sides.  “It’s not about you, it’s about me.”  Kurt coughs not indiscreetly into his hand, but Blaine doesn’t quite catch what he says. “I need you all to wear these, for an hour, three times a week.  I’ve clearly marked this as private time on our schedule, from 11 to midnight, Saturdays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.”

 “But what if-“

 “Sam, let it go,” Kurt says. “We’re all missing <I>private time</I> these days.”  Kurt stands up and smooths his hands down his skin tight jeans.  “It’s fine with me, Rachel.”

 Blaine stands up too, and peers into the box, then takes out a set of headphones.  They are high end noise-cancelling models, clearly expensive, and probably quite effective.  “These are great, Rachel.  Thanks. But you didn’t have to do this. I’m sure we could have worked something out so you could practice.”

 Rachel glares at him now too, and tosses her hair over her shoulder.  “I <i>have</i> worked it out.  

Private time commences at eleven o’clock on each designated night.  I expect you all to go to your rooms, and wear the headsets.  It’s the least we can do to help preserve our collective mental health during this trying time.  Do I have your agreement?”

 They all agree, and Rachel smirks, satisfied.  Blaine chalks it up to roommate harmony and sets about seeing what he can make for dinner out of tortillas, one cucumber, and three apples (answer:  nothing,  they eat frozen pizza).

 Later that evening, he and Sam are on the couch trying to find something to watch on Netflix. Suddenly Sam leans over and slaps Blaine on the shoulder.

 “Ow, Sam, what was that for?”

 “I know why Rachel got the headphones for us,” Sam announces, grinning crazily,  “It’s so she can have a wank!”

 Blaine attributes Sam’s ongoing affinity for British slang to the amount of Sherlock fanfic he’s been reading lately, but now really isn’t the time to get into it.

He reflexively starts to deny it, but then he realizes with a flush of embarrassment that Sam is probably right.  Sam watches his face and his grin gets even bigger.

 “She’s kind of a genius, isn’t she?”  Sam grabs a set of headphones and bounds away up the stairs.

 “Sam,” Blaine calls out, wanting to remind him that it’s Monday, and therefore no private time is scheduled.  Not that it’s stopped Sam before.

 The next night Rachel reminds them all after dinner that private time will begin precisely at eleven o’clock.  After a group viewing of the first episode of Deadwater Fell (during which Blaine divided his attention between watching David Tennant, watching Kurt, and watching Kurt watch David Tennant), Rachel checks the time on her phone and orders them all upstairs.  At five minutes to eleven, she screams “put your headphones on,” and slams the door to her bedroom.

 Blaine thinks this is all fairly ridiculous, but he puts on the headphones anyway, and settles on his bed with his laptop.  He surfs around for a while, finding clips of some noteworthy Shakespeare productions (okay, fine, it’s Benedict Cumberbatch playing Hamlet), but then his mind starts to wander. Being cooped up with his roommates has been… constraining… for him too, and maybe he should go ahead and take advantage of the private time Rachel has arranged for them.

 Blaine makes himself more comfortable and slides a hand down his body, wondering if his roommates are doing the same.  Wondering, especially, if Kurt is doing the same.  He unzips his fly and takes himself in hand, letting out a long sigh at the sensation – and then freezing when he hears himself.  Blaine quickly realizes that as he got comfortable on the bed, the headphones had slipped off his ears.

 And if he can hear himself, what if Kurt can hear him too?

 Any interest in solo activities leaves him in a flash, and Blaine quickly zips himself up and plants his feet on the floor.  He makes sure the headphones are properly situated on his ears, and spends the remaining twenty minutes of private time organizing his sock drawer.

 The next morning his roommates seem downright cheery, and Blaine starts to regret his nerves.  It would have been nice to get a little relief from the stress of quarantine, even at the risk of potential embarrassment. Maybe he just needs to be quieter, next time.

 Thursday night Blaine fluffs his pillows and arranges himself on the bed face down, so that any noise he makes will be muffled.  This turns out to be a brilliant idea, and he has quite a good time imagining that Kurt is underneath him, writhing and squirming and rutting against him, all long lines and warm skin.  It’s not a pillow stifling his cries, it’s Kurt’s wet mouth…

 When Blaine finally comes to, he feels a little guilty, but he’s more relaxed than he’s been in weeks. Maybe he’ll get through this quarantine after all.

[ahtohallan-calling]

what makes up love | a fluffy kristanna modern au one shot | rated t, 1.7k

Kristoff Bjorgman will be the first to admit that he knows hardly anything about love.

Still, even he can recognize that it’s a good sign when the pretty girl from Comp II-- Anna, the A round and full like he’s never heard it said before-- agrees to go on first one date with him, and then another, and now a third. And she was the one who suggested seeing some new horror movie about witches or something, and at first Kristoff had thought she only grabbed onto his hand out of fright, but now they’ve come out of the theater and into the rest of the mall and she still hasn’t let go, and he doesn’t think he’s ever smiled this big.

They’re wandering in the general direction of an escalator, exchanging commentary on the movie and whether it was as good as the first five in the franchise, when Anna comes to a sudden halt. “Oh! I forgot I had a Sephora gift card, I…” 

She bites her bottom lip, and if he wasn’t already dying to kiss her by now-- well. “Do you mind if I run in? You can wait out here if you want.”

Kristoff feels his brows pull together. “Do you...not want me to go in with you?”

“No! No, not at all,” she says quickly, and now both of her hands are on his. “It’s just...I don’t know. I heard people say before their boyfriends don’t like to go in there.”

Boyfriend-- they haven’t talked about that yet, but both of them blush. “I don’t mind,” Kristoff assures her. “I mean, I just care about hanging out with you. Doesn’t really matter where.”

She lights up as if he’s just promised to take a trip to Pluto and come back with an armful of stars for her. “I’ll be fast,” she insists as she leads him in, her fingers still clasped tightly around his.

Eventually she does let go so she can touch some glittery stuff and rub it on the back of her hand, concentrating hard on it. Kristoff considers asking her if it’s really supposed to go there before thinking better of it and letting his gaze wander around the rest of the store.

He accidentally makes eye contact with the only other man in there, who nods in the direction of a woman Kristoff assumes is his wife and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. Kristoff doesn’t break eye contact with the man as he says, “Hey, Anna?”

“Yeah?” she asks, turning around and peering up at him.

“I think you should get...that one,” he says, finally glancing down to jab his finger at a row of lipsticks. “It would be really pretty on you.”

She beams. “Do you really think I could pull that color red off?”

“You could pull anything off.”

A moment later, there’s a slight pressure on his shoulder; he glances down just in time to see her using it to keep her balance to rise up on her tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re sweet,” she says, her eyes shining. “But that one’s sixty dollars.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling stupid until she takes his hand again and leads him right past the other man, just in time for Kristoff to hear him say, “Hey, honey, what about that one?”

---

Three months in, there’s still a hell of a lot for Kristoff to learn about love-- namely, if it’s still too soon for him to tell her how he feels-- but he’s proud to say he’s already sort of starting to become an expert on all things Anna. Her favorite fruit is strawberries, her favorite class this semester is Painting I even though she’s never really done art before, and she goes to yoga once a week with her sister even though she always gets the giggles and everyone glares at her. She’s a Cancer and an elementary ed major and she lived in Norway until she was fifteen. That’s when, he found out on date number six, her parents died suddenly; her sister had just started school at the university, full ride scholarship on track for med school, and so Anna had packed her things and joined her, and they’d lived together in a little yellow rented house ever since.

(“Sorry to be a downer,” she had said sheepishly after explaining how she’d ended up here.

“Don’t be sorry. I wanna know all about you. And anyway, I’m an orphan too-- well, I was, ‘til I got adopted. So I kinda get it,” he’d explained, and then her eyes had gone all soft and just a little shiny and she’d spent the rest of the night snuggled up against him paying no attention to the notes she was supposed to be studying.)

But there’s one thing he still doesn’t understand.

“Anna,” he says, frowning, as he lets himself in through the front door she leaves unlocked for him every Saturday night, “why do you put that stuff on your face?”

“It’s a face mask!” she says cheerfully.

“Yeah, but...what’s it for?”

“It cleans up all the stuff in your pores.”

“Doesn’t it feel...slimy?” he asked, tilting his head as he tries to understand what makes her so happy about smearing green goop all over her face.

“Kind of. But in a good way. Wanna try it?”

There’s another thing he’s learning about Anna: when she bites her lip like that and struggles to meet his eyes, it’s a chance to do something that’s going to make her really happy even if he doesn’t get why it’s a big deal. And so he shrugs and says, “Sure, why not?”

He does have to admit that the mask does feel pretty good. But what feels even better is Anna’s fingers brushing carefully against his skin as she smears it on, and when she giggles and leaves one spot bare so she can lean in and kiss his cheek, and then she settles herself on his lap and leans back against his chest and says, “Now we wait ten minutes. Whatcha wanna do?”

Thank God this green stuff doesn’t go on his lips.

---

“I have a huge favor to ask,” Anna says breathlessly the moment he lets her in the door to his apartment. “Like, really really really big, and if you say no--”

“Baby, when have I ever said no to you?” he asks, and she pauses just long enough to tug him down by the collar so she can kiss his cheek.

“Okay, yes, true, but this time it’s a really big one.”

“Why don’t you say what it is first, and then I’ll tell you if it’s actually a no or not?”

She bites her lip. “You know how it’s like, her white coat ceremony tomorrow?”

He does; he agreed to go not only because he loves Anna, but because, as it turns out, Elsa might be the only person on campus who loves hockey and cheese fries as much as he does, and now, second only to his roommate-- well, and Anna, obviously-- she’s his best friend.

He nods, and she releases her bottom lip with a sigh. “I told her I’d do her makeup. But then I realized I’ve never done it on another person, and all my friends are busy studying for finals, and I know you are, too, so I’ll be fast, and I promise I won’t like, take pictures or anything, or--”

“Anna,” he interrupts, “are you trying to ask if you can practice makeup on me?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, so I get it, and if you say yes I super owe you one--”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, sitting down in the kitchen chair. “Just make sure we’ve gotten it all off by the time Sven comes home.”

“Is that a yes?” she asks hopefully.

“I mean, considering you kept me stocked up on Gatorade and saltines all last week after I puked in your car...I don’t think I have any room to say no to you right now.”

They both know he wouldn’t say no anyway, especially considering that now he actually sort of looks forward to what Anna calls Spa Dates and he calls “letting you put that stuff on my face and kissing until it’s dry”. 

This takes a lot longer than the face masks, and it’s a hell of a lot ticklier. “Kris,” Anna whines when his eyelids keep fluttering. “You gotta hold still so I can do your crease.”

“My what?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m making it beautiful. Or at least I’m trying to.”

He holds his breath, and that seems to help. The mascara she has him do himself-- “so I don’t jab your eye out, ohmygod, how bad would that be?”, which then makes him wonder if he’ll jab his own eye out.

Thankfully, he doesn’t, and she reassures him it was only the eyeshadow she needed to practice, anyway, and so a moment later he’s done. “Oh,” Anna sighs, “that came out better than I expected. Wanna see?”

“I don’t know. Do I?”

She laughs and fumbles through her makeup bag for a mirror. “Here.”

He looks, and while it’s certainly not a look that works for him, he’s pretty sure she did it right, except that the black stuff went past the corner of his eye, is it supposed to do that? 

When he says as much, she laughs and laughs until she can’t breathe. “I love you so much,” she gasps, wiping tears out of the corners of her eyes.

He doesn’t really get the joke, but then she thanks him with a kiss and a makeup remover wipe, and he figures it’s best to move past it, especially when he can hear Sven’s keys jingling in the door.

---

He’s seen her now with glitter all over her face, and with bright red lips, and with fake eyelashes that kept falling off, and with Halloween makeup that made her look like a zombie.

But this, he thinks, is when she looks the prettiest.

He scoots closer across the mattress and kisses the tip of her nose. She scrunches it up, and he laughs and kisses it again, and then her cheeks and her forehead and the top of her head until at last she sighs and opens her eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says softly, and the smile she gives him could light up the whole damn world.

----

a/n:

this is something silly i did for mariana, olá mari eu te amo

thanks laura and rhianne and gabi and molly for your help!!

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Right Moment

Hello this is more Marvel (not that anyone asked for more marvel oops). Like I said before I’m always a slut for Tony Stark so I had to write this out. Especially since I’ve always wanted to play with the ‘Soulmates AU’ thing.

Tony Stark x female!Reader

Warnings: cursing, age gap

Takes place during IM2

6,650 words

The words were a messy scrawl against your skin. It was only a few shades darker than your skin tone, like every other soul mark in the world, making it look more like a birthmark than a tattoo. Not that anyone would see the mark and confuse it for a tattoo.

Nobody was born with his or her soul mark. It usually appeared in the early teens, around puberty, but the soul marks were more than just words on skin, marks on flesh. It was a part of who someone was. It was a quick glimpse into their future. A soul mark was the first sentence your soulmate would one day say to you. It was a moment in time etched on your body.

You slowly let your finger trace the four cluttered words on the right side of your ribcage. The handwriting was rushed and messy. Chaotic. It looked like the handwriting of someone who was always busy and scribbled notes wherever they could find space. That’s what you always imagined at least. The style of it somehow made the phrase look that much better though.

Looking for me, sunshine?

The words had appeared on your skin one random Saturday morning a few weeks after you turned twelve. Not everyone in the world got soul marks. There was no hard science behind it that said who would and wouldn’t get one. Scientists who studied the phenomenon said that genetics had nothing to do with it. Despite that, you had always assumed you wouldn’t get one. No one in your family had one, except maybe a great great great grandma on your mom’s side, but no one that anyone remembered.

Your mother had been so proud when she saw the words, as if you had done something special to deserve them. Your older sister gushed about how lucky you were. At only 12 years old you hadn’t fully grasped the concept of soulmates, but it excited you all the same. You thought you were lucky too.

Getting a soul mark at all had been nothing short of a miracle, but the fact that it was a simple, succinct mark was just pure luck. There had been a girl in high school whose soul mark took up all of her back. Apparently, her soul mate was quite the talker. Still, you always thought having a soul mark taking up all of your back would be better than having some obscene sentence out where others could see. A guy you met during your first year in college had the words, ‘I’d let you fuck me any day of the week’ written on his forearm in a loopy, fancy font. He seemed rather proud of it though, so you assumed he didn’t share your opinion. Then of course there were the overly plain soul marks. There were probably millions of people out there with the words, ‘Hey there’, ‘Hi’, and ‘How are you?’ written on their bodies. They were probably just as protective of their marks as you were with yours, but it had to be a pain having God knows how many people say those words to them all the time.

“Girl, are you ready, yet??”

You jumped at the voice behind the door, “Oh, yeah, almost. Be right out, Amber.”

The sound of heels walking away from the locked bathroom door made you turn back toward the mirror you had been looking in. Your eyes drifted over the words one last time before you turned to look at the dress hanging on the towel rack behind you. It was something you had bought proudly, but the moment you brought it home you questioned it. It flashy and bold with dark gold sequins decorating the entire thing. The dress loosely came down to right above your knees. It was a deep v-neck dress with two thin straps that went over your shoulder, one connecting higher up to the dress that covered your sides and the other further down to connect at the dress that sat on your lower back. You scrunched up your nose before just grabbing the dress and turning back around.

Admittedly, you had always hoped you wouldn’t have to wait long for your soulmate. Your mother would always hush you when you complained about the wait, ‘Everything comes at the right moment. Be patient.’

Knowing what you knew now, it was probably a good thing your soulmate wasn’t at the high school you attended. Most of those guys were still living in that same, small town content with not seeing the world. Now, you love your hometown, but it didn’t have what you wanted. What you needed. You craved exploration and adventure. You had dreams and goals that involved venturing out of comfort zones.

Still, you wondered what it was like for the people who met their soulmates so early on. There was a couple you met in your junior year of college that had met each other two days after they got their soul marks. They had to wait a total of two days, and here you were pushing on seventeen years.

Quickly, you slipped your short dress on and left the bathroom to find your roommate. You had met Amber Reyes as a senior in college when you went to rent an apartment near the campus. The two of you got along swimmingly, and when it came time to spread out it just so happened that both of you had your sights set on the Big Apple. Amber had a job laid out in New York City, and you had just been accepted into NYU’s Grossman School of Medicine.

The first year or so had been rough. The two of you were living in a shoebox sized apartment in Hell’s Kitchen working your asses off. Med school was as difficult as you knew it would be and Amber’s first job hadn’t worked out leaving her looking for new work. Still, the two of you had each other and with a little elbow grease it all worked out. Now Amber was running her own garage doing various auto repairs and you were a Resident at New York Hospital working in the Emergency Department.

Life was good, though your apartment was still kind of shitty.

“-look we’ll just meet you there, Kyle.” Amber said into her cell phone. She was leaning against the living room couch wearing a tight white, one shoulder dress that ended above her knees. It made her dark, flawless skin glow. Her long, brown hair was pulled up into a tight, clean ponytail. As per usual, she looked like an absolute goddess. Amber’s brown eyes shot over to you, “M’hm, just don’t do anything stupid. Love you too.”

You lifted your hands and glanced down at yourself, “Are you sure this dress doesn't make me look like a hooker?”

“Oh, it absolutely does.” Amber smirked and walked toward you, “It’s perfect. Now what are you going to do with your hair?”

“I was just gonna leave it down.” You shrugged then squished your cheeks with your hands. “Can you help me with my make-up?”

“Duh.” She replied and headed back towards the bathroom. Amber was the most brilliant mechanic that you’ve ever met. Granted, you hadn’t met many, but still. She could take apart just about anything on earth and put it together in better shape than it had originally been in. Amber also was infinitely better than you were at applying make-up. She made it seem almost effortless. “So, Kyle is getting our tickets for the after party right now.”

“Sounds good.” You replied nonchalantly as you glanced at the words that were half showing on her bare shoulder blade. All you could see were the words, ‘Holy shit’, but you knew the entire thing read, ‘Holy shit, my soulmate is hot’. Amber was lucky in the sense that she was able to put together some of the mystery of how she’d meet her soulmate. She knew from the beginning that she’d probably be the first one to speak in the conversation considering her soulmate used the word soulmate in the sentence.

Kyle Davis was Amber’s soulmate and they had met a few months after the two of you had settled down in your broken down, shoebox of an apartment. He was a mechanical engineer that stopped by where Amber had worked at the time to pick up a few parts as a favor to his employer. All Amber had said after watching his failed attempts to flirt with other customers was, ‘That’ll be 143 dollars, Casanova’, and he had replied exactly how Amber expected someone would one day reply to her.

You had spent years of your life wondering about how you’d meet your soulmate, but you had no idea how it could play out. The words on your side could be the second part of the conversation or the first. It worked either way.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Amber asked as she grabbed the desk chair and dragged it into the bathroom for you to sit on.

You dropped into the chair with a sigh, “Just nothing.” Amber rolled her eyes giving you a dead panned look. You shook your head, “Seriously, I just… I’ve been thinking about my mark for the last few days.”

“Why?” Amber questioned and moved some hair out of your face before grabbing your stash of make-up.

You rubbed your hand over the material of your dress that sat just above your words, “I don’t know. It’s been bothering me lately.”

“Bothering you?”

“Yeah. It itches.” You replied and tilted your head up so Amber could work her magic.

“You know”, Amber began, “Some people say that your mark itches when you get closer to meeting your soulmate.”

Your eyes widened and Amber scolded you about the exaggerated facial expression, “Really? Did yours?”

“Mine didn’t, no, but Kyle said his felt weird for a few days before.” Amber said. Her voice trailed off as she focused on the task at hand. You had read all the online stories and self-help books on soul marks and soulmates. A part of you had hoped maybe it would shed some light on the process, but it didn’t really help anything. All you really got from it was the fact that there was no typical case. Soul marks were weird things with minds of their own. “Who knows, maybe this means you’re getting close.”

“God, I hope so.” You mumbled under your breath. After waiting for this long, a part of you didn’t even know what you’d do once you met the person. You tended to be pretty independent in nearly everything you did. It was part of the reason why any past relationships you had never lasted long. Dating between two people who weren’t fated for each other was a struggle enough, but your desire to handle things on your own and not open up certainly didn’t help the matter. Despite all this though, you desperately wanted to know. Even if it ended up being a disappointment, you just wanted the answer now.

Amber smirked as she put on the finishing touches, “Maybe they’ll be at the party tonight.”

You couldn’t stop the small smile that bubbled onto your lips, “You really think so?”

“Take a good look in the mirror, [Surname].” Amber smirked, “Who the hell wouldn’t fall for you?”

“Hello, gorgeous.”

“Are you here alone?”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Damn, girl.”

Amber’s words had gotten into your head, and now at the start of every new conversation you were basically holding your breath. You weren’t purposely getting your hopes up. In fact, you had a running mantra in your head that sounded a lot like the motto your mother introduced to you a week after you got the damn mark.

‘Everything comes at the right moment. Be patient.’

“Be patient, [Name].” You whispered to yourself, but you could hardly stand still.

“Why do you look so nervous? I should be the one who looks nervous. Shit, Amber, do I look nervous?”

You tore your gaze away from the crowd to see Kyle was no longer talking to you but was now facing Amber. He was wearing a fancy suit with a dark colored, neat tie that was hilariously uncharacteristic of him. You were used to seeing Kyle in worn down T-shirts and jeans. His medium length, dirty blond hair was combed back neatly, but despite Amber’s arguments he hadn't shaved the facial hair above his upper lip and across his jawline.

“You look fine.” Amber replied and adjusted his tie. “Though maybe you’d look better if you had listened and shaved—”

Kyle rolled his blue eyes, “I told you, Amber. I had to keep it. What if I run into Tony Stark? It might impress him!”

“And I told you that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Amber replied with an irritated sigh. “Besides, if you really want that job at Stark Industries, your best bet is to find Pepper Potts. She’s the CEO now. Talk to her about your designs.”

“Oh, but hon… Tony Stark.” Kyle replied, “If I could find him in this crowd somewhere and talk to him…”

“The mission tonight is to get a job, not stalk your idol.” Amber argued.

Kyle turned back to you, “Tell her, [Name].”

You grinned at him, “I also think your best bet is Pepper Potts. In fact, anyone other than Tony Stark is probably a good bet.”

Kyle frowned and mumbled something under his breath about his role model. Unlike Kyle, you didn’t have Stark’s biography memorized, but you got enough information off the news. He went from being a playboy, genius, billionaire with his hands in the weapons manufacturing business to some sort of self-declared superhero named Iron Man. From what you’ve seen in the news, he seemed like he was doing pretty good. He stopped Stark Industries from making weapons when he found out they were going to the wrong people, saved lives, and made a difference.

Of course, you weren’t too startled by the fact that it didn’t last long.

Sure, he was still Iron Man so he was still out helping people, which was great, but the hero obviously couldn’t keep his wild side down. Hell, the news had a field day when he randomly gave the position of CEO to his personal assistant. Now, based on what you’ve seen, you couldn’t figure out if he had done so to dedicate his life to helping the greater good or getting drunk off his ass and making poor life decisions. There were certainly more headlines about the poor life decisions than there was the heroic stuff.

“Now go. You’ll do great.” Amber smiled and pressed her lips at the corner of his mouth before pushing him off. You watched Kyle nervously make his way through the large crowd to where a red headed woman was talking to a group of people in business suits. Hopefully, the nerves would wear off and the friendly, easy-going Kyle would come back out. You tore your gaze away from him to see Amber grinning at you.

“What?”

She chuckled, “That smile hasn’t slipped from your lips since we walked through those fancy ass glass doors.”

You rolled your eyes at her, but the smile she spoke about didn’t falter. Despite the fact that nearly two hours had passed since you got here, you couldn’t shake this feeling of excitement. It was spilling out of you. Hell, it took everything in you not to just randomly start laughing. You felt downright giddy.

“I’m just in a really, really good mood.” You shrugged. Amber gave you a knowing look and you didn’t bother to mention the fact that your soul mark had been tingling since you walked in. That had to be a good sign, right?

“I think I’m gonna get a drink.” Amber replied simply.

You motioned for her to grab an empty table off to the side, “Wait here. I’ll get us both something. The usual for you?”

“Please and thank you.” She nodded.

You made your way through the crowd toward where the large bar sat in the corner. There were a few people leaning against the bar, but it was otherwise abandoned. You assumed this was due to the fact that servers were walking around everywhere taking orders themselves. That saved you a hassle. Nearly all of the barstools were open where you came to stand, but you didn’t bother grabbing a seat. You wouldn’t be long.

“Two dry martinis. One with olives and the other with a twist.” You ordered when the bartender caught your eye. He nodded and went to work while you waited patiently. The wall behind the bartender was an enormous mirror that you could see yourself in. The smile on your face was certainly large, but you hoped the excitement of it all didn’t make you look like a crazy person.

You chuckled and turned to look over the crowd. Was it really possible that your soulmate was in this very same room as you? The possibility existed that maybe they weren’t. Maybe all this excitement and soul mark tingling was just a false alarm, but the thought that the answer to the biggest question in your life was breathing the same shared airspace as you was exhilarating and terrifying and wonderful all at the same time. Quickly, you tried to push down your excitement. Nothing would be worse than to go home empty handed then wake up early for a long shift in—

“Looking for me, sunshine?”

The distinct, baritone of a male voice spoke from beside you and it shut down every single thought in your brain. It took every fiber of your being not to jump out of your shoes. Hearing the words made you feel like a fire was lit in your chest. Like something in your very soul moved at his voice. The tingling on your right side was replaced with a feeling of warmth. As if an invisible hand were tracing the words as they rolled in your mind. The fact that the voice was vaguely familiar didn’t even click with you until you turned to face him with a grin.

The smile you had managed to keep on your face all night slowly began to crack and slip away as you stared at the man beside you. His voice was vaguely familiar because you did know his voice. Hell, he had been on the news doing some interview not even a day ago. His face was one you knew because damn near everyone in the world knew who this guy was.

Tony fucking Stark.

There was no mixing him up with some other guy. He leaned against the bar beside you facing the huge mirror while you faced the crowd. His eyes were focused on you, but the clear, red glass of his sunglasses tinted the brown color. He had on an expensive dark burgundy suit over a black dress shirt with no tie. He even had on the same smirk that he wore in most of the pictures you had seen him in and not a soul in the United States of America, hell the world, wouldn’t recognize the unique goatee surrounding that stupid smirk.

Maybe he didn’t notice the absolute panic attack going on in your mind, but he pushed himself off the bar slightly, leaning closer to you. The bartender came back with your drinks then left to cater to another guest. Mr. Stark glanced at the two tall glasses.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re not here alone.” Mr. Stark spoke again.

You had to say something. Words needed to come out of your mouth now, but what would you say? No matter what you said he would know. The next words to come out of your mouth would be marked on his skin somewhere in your handwriting. If you said nothing, then would he even know? It’s not like a soul mark could say, ‘Your soulmate says nothing because she’s an indecisive dumbass’.

“Miss?” He questioned as he leaned forward. His smirk had widened as if he were impressed by the fact that you were speechless. As if it were his mere presence alone that could stun women into stupor.

The words left your mouth before you even had time to consider them. In an exasperated, ‘I’m giving up on the world’ tone, you sighed, “Oh, fuck me.”

That made the smirk fall off his face as quickly as your original smile had disappeared. Mr. Stark pulled his glasses off making it easier to see his wide, shocked eyes. He blinked once, twice… three times, before shaking his head, “Who told you to say that? Did Pepper put you up to this?”

“Oh my God.” You put a hand to your face as if that would help steady the tilting world around you, “You’re Tony Stark. Tony fucking Stark. Are you kidding me?”

“Rhodey then? Did he tell you to say that?” Mr. Stark questioned further. He slipped his glasses into his jacket pocket and his hand lingered over his left side briefly. “Maybe…Happy? Was it Happy?”

You turned around quickly, grabbing your martini, and quickly began to down it. The alcohol burned your throat, but as soon as you had finished yours you picked up Amber’s. Mr. Stark grabbed your wrist before you could bring the glass to your lips and your eyes darted to his in panic. The two of you just stood like that for a moment. You with a martini glass halfway to your lips, panic in your eyes, and Tony Stark holding your wrist with disbelief in his own warm, brown eyes.

The party around you hadn't stopped. People still milled about laughing and talking as if nothing had changed. Yet here you stood feeling like the world had dropped out from under your feet.

“You’re really my soulmate, aren’t you?” Mr. Stark commented in incredulity with a slight shake of his head. The corners of his mouth quirked up as a chuckle rolled out. It wasn’t the typical smirk though; it almost seemed like a genuine smile.

“Is this really happening?” You said in a whispered tone.

“Oh, it’s really happening, sunshine.” He said and took his hand off your wrist to grab the glass. Mr. Stark set it against the bar countertop. He grinned, “You are gorgeous, by the way, I didn’t get to that part of my little spiel.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “You’re Tony Stark.”

“I think we’ve already established that. The question is, who are you?”

“I-I’m [Name].” You said.

“[Name]…?” He questioned, obviously fishing for your last name for some reason.

“[Surname].” You finished then shook your head, “Listen, Mr. Stark-”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t start that. Just Tony.”

“Mr. Stark”, You ignored him, “This has to be a mistake. I’m not— and you— I don’t think we’d even get along, let alone work out.”

He shrugged, “Obviously, you’re wrong. My words are on your skin, and yours on mine. Where are my words, by the way?”

“I uh- um, here.” You lifted your hand and set it over your mark.

Tony’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “That’s interesting.”

“How so?”

His smirk returned as he grabbed your hand softly and pulled you a step closer to him. You froze in surprise as he moved your hand to rest inside his suit jacket on top of the left side of his ribcage, “My words are right here.”

“Really?” You blurted out. There were myths and rumors that the closer the soul marks were to being in the same place, the stronger the bond between the soulmates would be. You had never met anyone who had soul marks in the same place, and the closest you had seen yourself was a couple where one mark was on the woman’s ankle and the other on her partner’s hip.

“We could leave, and I could show you.” Tony said slyly. “I mean, to be honest, I always imagined the context of your words to be a little different.”

You snatched your hand away from his chest and crossed your arms, “You wish.”

“I most certainly do.” You could feel your face heat up as you unconsciously took a step back away from the bar and away from your supposed soulmate. His smile faltered slightly, but he didn’t hesitate to take a step toward you. “Listen, I was serious about that first part. Let’s get out of here. Go get something eat or find a place where we can get a real drink.”

“A place where we can just talk?” You pressed.

Tony stuck his hands into his pocket and nodded, “We do have a lot to talk about.”

You rolled the idea around in your head for a few seconds before nodding your head. He grinned in response and offered you his arm to lead you out and you took it after only a brief moment of hesitation. It was easy to conclude that you were torn on this matter. The curious part of you, the part looking for answers, was more than happy to go to some random bar and chat up a storm. When did his soul mark appear? Was it the same time as yours? Had his been feeling weird up to this point? You’d chat up a storm to find the information you wanted.

However, this was not some random guy in a room of people or the guy next door. This was Tony Stark. The billionaire, the playboy, the narcissistic superhero that people either adored or hated. Was this the kind of guy you wanted to know? Yeah, he was your soulmate according to the words on your chest, but sometimes these soulmate things didn’t work out. It was rare, but these things did exist. Even if you decided to not judge him on his very public mistakes or the women he flaunted, he was still a powerful man with a lot of enemies.

What exactly were you getting yourself into?

The place he had in mind was literally only a few blocks away from where the after-party event was being held. After only a five minute, rather uncomfortable walk, you found yourself sitting in a booth in the very back of an old diner across from Tony Stark. The two of you stood out among the other customers in your formal clothes, but after a couple minutes passed nobody seemed to be paying either of you any more attention.

“Well, look at you Tony, all dolled up.” An older waitress came by with a wide smile. He grinned and she continued, “The usual?”

“You know me well, Ethel.” He replied and glanced at you, “You hungry? I usually get a thing of fries here. It’s good, we can share?”

You nodded, “Sure.”

Tony glanced back at Ethel, “She’ll have a scotch too.”

“She looks like she could use one.” Ethel commented, “What’d you do to the poor girl?”

Tony held his hands up in mock surrender. Ethel gave you a warm smile before walking off. You readjusted the hem of you dress and pulled it down, so it covered a little bit more of your legs.

He leaned across the table slightly, “So, how do we start this heart to heart—”

“Do you even want a soulmate?” You asked bluntly.

Tony blinked in surprise, “Wow, ok, go straight for the jugular there.”

“Seriously, I mean it.” You said, “I never took you as the kind of guy who would even want to settle down with one person. You seem pretty pleased with how your life is now.”

“That’s a fair question.” He leaned back into the booth and didn’t immediately answer your question. Finally, he shrugged nonchalantly with a smile on his face, but his brown eyes looked worried, “I don’t know. I really don’t. What about you?”

You forced a chuckle and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “Every little girl dreams about her soulmate, right?”

“Knowing what you know now, knowing that it’s me, do you still want one?” He asked. Ethel came back with two glasses and a bottle of scotch. It looked a lot more expensive than this place could handle and you wondered if the guy in front of you had anything to do with that. She set them down on the table with a smile before leaving. Tony grabbed the bottle and poured some amber liquid into both glasses. He set the bottle down and pushed the glass toward you before grabbing his own, “Do you even want to consider the possibility of having Tony Stark as your soulmate?”

He took a large drink of his scotch but didn’t tear his eyes from yours. You tapped your fingers against the glass and tried to ignore the chill running down your back. The diner was much colder than the party and this dress was hardly made for cold temperatures. You twisted your lips in thought, “That’s a really good question. I’m supposed to, aren’t I? Judging a book by its cover is wrong.”

“True, but this book can’t really deny most of the things on its cover.” Tony said, “And there is a lot of things on my cover. Good and bad.”

“Like being Iron Man?”

He smirked and nodded, “Yeah, that’s one of them.”

“A good one or a bad one?”

“I was going to let you decide on that.” He said then added, “Though I will admit, I was hoping the whole superhero gig would add some points with you. I hear the whole ‘saving lives’ and ‘being a hero’ thing is quite the turn on for ladies.”

You bit back a chuckle, “Admittedly, the Iron Man thing did win you a decent number of points.” You took a quick drink of the scotch, ignoring the burning taste and the growing smile on Tony’s face, then said, “But then there’s the whole ‘archenemies’ and ‘worrying about you dying’ bit that loses you nearly as many points as you had earned.”

His smile faltered on that last statement, and even though you meant it mostly as a joke he seemed to tense at the words. You took another sip of your drink and rubbed your arm with your free hand to try and get rid of the goose bumps that had formed. Tony shrugged out of his suit jacket and offered it to you over the table. You opened your mouth to argue, but the look on his face put a halt to your words.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and shrugged into the dark burgundy coat. It was obviously too big for you, but it was warm and smelled nice.

Moments later, Ethel came back with a basket of fries that she set between the two of you. Tony thanked her sincerely, and you gave her a brief smile. She left again, as quickly as she had come, and it was silent between the two of you again.

“You know, it kind of sucks.” Tony said suddenly making your eyes widen. He snatched a fry from the basket and quickly ate it while you waited for him to finish his thought. “We find each other, and you know everything about me but I know absolutely nothing about you. Kinda seems unfair if you ask me.”

You grabbed a fry for yourself, “From my perspective, I know a lot about you, but now I have to sit here and wonder how much is true, how much is false, and whether or not any of it actually represents who you are.”

“So, I guess we can agree that it sucks from both sides of things?” He commented. You chuckled and nodded in agreement. Tony finished his drink and grabbed the bottle to pour himself some more, “I bet you never pictured meeting your soulmate would look like this.”

You let out a laugh, “Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Tell me about how you pictured it.”

For a moment you didn’t say anything. The only person you had ever shared your daydreams with was your older sister. It wasn’t so much that you were ashamed of the fantasies, everyone with a soul mark had their own, but saying it out loud just made it seem that much more real. You were always afraid that if you said your hopes and daydreams out loud too many times then eventually you would start believing it might actually happen that way and you didn’t want to be disappointed.

Tony noticed your hesitance and spoke up, “I never really thought about it when I was a kid, and as a young adult I didn’t really give a damn…” He chuckled, “Thinking back now though, the funniest thing would have to be the way my mom’s face looked when she saw the words ‘Oh, fuck me’ written on her 12 year old’s chest.”

You couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter at his words and he smiled along with you. That did have to be pretty bad. His mom probably thought he’d end up with some crazy woman or something.

“I’m the only person in my family with a soul mark.” You admitted with a small smile, “My parents didn’t have them, but they were still so close and just perfect for each other.” You let your eyes linger on the glass in front of you, “I had a few daydreams on how meeting my soulmate would pan out, but I guess the similar theme in all of them was just excitement. If my parents, who weren’t marked for each other, were so perfect and close…how much better would my relationship one day be?”

Your eyes lifted back to the man in front of you only to find his gaze hadn't moved an inch from you. Nervously, you finished your drink and then pulled the coat around you tighter before reaching for another fry.

Tony cleared his throat, “How do you think your family would react if you called them and told them who your soulmate was?”

You chuckled, “My older sister would lose her mind. She kinda has a low-key crush on you. Even her husband knows it.” Tony laughed quietly as you continued, “My dad would be worried. He’d probably threaten your life a bit.”

“And your mom?” Tony questioned in amusement.

“She would be torn for sure.” You said confidently, “She’d probably rotate from being super worried to asking about when I was going to give her grandbabies.”

Tony choked on the scotch he was drinking and that made you chuckle to himself. He pulled the glass away and cleared his throat. He looked like he wanted to say something or maybe comment on what you said, but you didn’t give him the chance, “How come you called me sunshine?”

“I’m sorry?”

“My words.” You repeated, “I always thought my soulmate would be some sort of southern gentleman or…I don’t know. Sunshine just doesn't seem like the kind of pet name you would use.”

Tony licked his bottom lip in thought and he undid the top button of his shirt. A light blue glow peeked out from his shirt, but your eyes lingered on an odd looking set of angry, inflamed lines that briefly could be seen when he undid his shirt . Your attention was pulled away when he began to speak, “Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I noticed you earlier in the night.” Tony said and he tried to sound as nonchalant as he could, but his shoulders were on the tense side and his eyes looked worried again, “The dress and your legs are definitely what first caught my attention, but then I saw you smiling and… damn, you were smiling. I don’t know if I could even call it just a smile, you were grinning ear to ear.” His lips quirked up slightly, “I lost sight of you for a while, but then I saw you heading toward the bar and I thought I’d strike up a conversation. A few hours had passed so I figured maybe you had to be at least a little tired of being so happy, but there you were grinning again.” Tony shrugged, “I don’t know what you were so happy about, but you were just beaming at the bar and I swear you lit up the entire room with that smile.”

You ducked your head down slightly as a small smile grew on your lips. His answer wasn’t the kind of answer you expected from him. Hell, none of this conversation was exactly what you expected of him. A determined idea settled in your mind and you looked back up at him with a smirk, “Thanks, Mr. Star— uh, Tony.”

He raised his glass at you slightly, “My pleasure, [Name].”

The two of you talked for a few more hours. Eventually the fries and the alcohol ran out, but the conversation didn’t. It was mostly just light-hearted banter and the trading of information. You told him more about your family and background, and he answered nearly every question you rattled off to him. You avoided the heavier topics, like the fact that you knew his parents were dead or the whole kidnapped and held hostage thing, because you didn’t want something to make this night go wrong.

A buzzing in your purse made you stop mid-sentence and reach over for it. The moment you pulled it out and saw Amber’s name flashing across the screen your face paled, “Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit.”

“Everything ok?” Tony questioned.

“I ditched my friend at that party. I went to get her a drink and…”

“And you ran into me.” Tony chuckled, “It’s fine. I should probably leave.”

The tone of his voice and the worry in his eyes made you pause skeptically. You thought this impromptu date of sorts was going very well, but occasionally you’d notice the look of worry grow. You stood up and let Amber’s call go to voicemail, “So now what?”

“Now, I get your number and you go home and dream about how hot and amazing your soulmate turned out to be.” Tony replied cheekily as a confident mask covered the look of worry he had worn only moments ago. He reached forward and pulled something out of the pocket of his jacket. You smiled and gave him your number without hesitation. He nodded, “I’ll have someone come pick you up and take you anywhere.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You argued as he sent out a message on his phone.

He shoved it into his pocket and shook his head, “I insist. Happy’s a great driver.”

“Happy?”

“He works for me. Good guy.” Tony replied. You tried to shrug out of his jacket, but he reached forward and held the lapels in place. “Keep it.”

You nodded once, “Ok. Well, it was… really good to meet you? I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say now.” You both chuckled, but you pushed on, “I’m really glad you came up to speak to me, Tony.”

“Yeah, me too.” He replied softly. You didn’t know what to expect, but Tony leaning forward to pull you into a hug as not it. After a moment you hugged him back and tried not to let your mind roll to the cliché thoughts of how right this felt. He pulled away with a smile, “I’ll call you.”

Then without another word Tony left and you sat down to wait for the car he had called for you. Your soulmate was completely out of view now and a part of you wondered if it had all been some sort of weird ass hallucination. The cologne on the expensive jacket around your shoulders told you otherwise though.

Your cellphone buzzed again, and you picked it up expecting another text or call from Amber. Instead, it was a single text from an unknown number.

‘Goodnight, sunshine.☀️’

[veiledpeaches]

chance encounters | part iii: what i mean when i say

Summary: Between pages of meddling friends and societal expectations, all she actually wants is to find a happily ever after with Doyoung, even if it feels like that is no longer possible.

part i x part ii x part iii x part iv x part v x part vi

word count: 4k

GIF originally posted by @lukhei​

Haewon’s day starts briefly like this – a backache verging on cataclysmic, a phone that is ringing off the hook and a thunderous sizzle from the kitchen that could be an auditory representation of Johnny cooking up a storm for no particular reason on a Saturday morning.

“Johnny Suh, you know you’re not allowed to touch the kitchen as long as I am in the house.” She gripes as she walks out of her bedroom upon washing up.

“It’s my house,” Johnny argues, just as he places a fork and knife on either side of the dish he has prepared for her. “And - you’re welcome. Johnny’s homemade blueberry pancakes.”

“Please, you should be thanking me,” she says, sliding all her hair across one shoulder and digging into the pancakes. “Plus, what if I wanted waffles? That would void your compensation.”

“I can make you waffles later if you want,” Johnny winks. “Although, we can argue that pancakes really don’t deserve such discrimination if waffles aren’t accorded the same breakfast ghettoization - they’re practically made of the same ingredients.”

Haewon studies him with narrowed eyes. “That good, huh?”

“Whaddya mean?” Johnny’s expression turns sheepish.

“Ghettoization?” She returns the question, moving her hair behind her shoulder and smirking, “you’re rambling, it’s written all over your face, you sad sad man-child.”

He jauntily sits himself on the chair in front of her, the grin on his face too pleased to be contrite. “It was good.”

“We really ought to soundproof your room, she literally woke me up-”

The lady in question chooses this opportune moment to make her presence known, sauntering up to Haewon and Johnny as she buckles her watch to her wrist. Haewon’s head whips towards Johnny with glaring eyes, while Johnny discreetly mouths an apology back to her. They had laid down the quintessential rule (the rule that makes all ground rules obsolete) when Haewon had moved in in early 2017 - staying over’s only okay after the fifth date; if you want to have a one-night stand, book yourself a hotel. This is Johnny’s second infraction of the year (not that Haewon is counting, she has too much of a life for that). She hears Johnny’s date of four times stop short in front of them.

“Youngho-ah, who’s this lady and what’s she doing eating your pancakes in her underwear?”

Haewon drops her gaze onto herself as Johnny stands to give the accuser a kiss on the temple. It’s clearly just a camisole that’s in question, though given what Johnny’s lover is planning to wear out of the apartment, it’s sort of audacious of her to bring this up when she’s really giving Haewon a run for her money.

“This is Haewon, baby, my roommate. I grew up with her back in the U.S.”

“Ah,” Said lover reaches her hand out to shake Haewon’s in an oddly formal manner, her coffin nails digging slightly into the back of her hand. Haewon guesses the sigh that emits from her lips right after she studies her has more to do with relief than recognition.

Shrugging internally, Haewon sits back down to finish her breakfast as she hears Johnny and his partner-she-can’t-give-a-name-to-‘cause-Johnny-said-no-labels kiss noisily and bid goodbye, as she eyes said partner’s figure. Yeap, Johnny’s definitely a titties man.

“It was a crime of passion, your honor!” Johnny dramatically pleads once the door shuts as Haewon shakes her head vigorously and mutters, “that’s not how you use it”.

“You’re cleaning the apartment the whole of next month,” Haewon insists, before her eyes widen as a thought flits into her head, “oh my God, you guys didn’t do it on the couch, did you-”

“Of course not! I’m not an animal!” Johnny pretends to be scandalized, “and, come on. It was 2am. I couldn’t kick her out of bed - what can I say, I’m a gentleman. A modern romantic.”

“I think you catastrophically misinterpret the word ‘romantic’.”

Despite the inflection, Johnny is, one-hundred percent, a hopeless romantic - something Haewon quickly learnt after witnessing the poor man get dumped over the phone a while after she had relocated to Seoul. Johnny believes in the concept of soulmates, the proverbial ‘one’, and an ancient concept that most people would currently refer to as ‘destiny’. The manifestation of his soulmate pursuit is countless dates and relationships, grandiose expressions of love and a penchant for serenading his lovers with roses from their windows - a gesture not every Korean woman appreciates especially at 11pm on a Thursday night.

“I think I’m gonna marry her, Haewon,” Johnny tells her now, with a sparkle in his eye, “I think she's the one.”

Haewon looks at him disbelievingly. “You’ve been on four dates, John.”

“I know, but it feels so right, you know?” He smiles softly in a moment of clairvoyance, standing up to clear their plates. “Speaking of marrying someone, isn’t there something you need to do on Monday?”

Haewon rolls her eyes. Subtlety has never been his strong suit.

There’s a reason Johnny has been calling Monday D-day for the past week, and repeatedly using phrases that border on annoying such as ‘it’s go time’ and ‘let’s get it’. Monday would mark the return of a highly anticipated Kim Doyoung, and Johnny is adamant that Haewon should tell Doyoung, especially since Inhee has not confessed about what she's done.

“Isn’t it possible that she might want to tell him face-to-face?”

“If it was me,” Johnny straddles the chair in mock confrontation, balancing his arms on the seat. “If this was me, would you be saying something so naïve?”

“But it’s not you-”

“If the conditions were the same, but it was me instead of Doyoung, you know you would tell me in a heartbeat. And I would appreciate it, Haewon, just as he would.”

“You’re not doing this for yourself,” he looks at Haewon with a seriousness that silences her. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you have no reason to. You’re doing it for Doyoung.”

“The moment he reaches work, you march into his office, and you tell him truthfully what you saw. No one can accuse you of anything when you’re just being truthful.”

There’s a sign on the wall at the far right corner of the office that says “There’s no room for losers”. It’s a signature Fulworth saying, especially when things get tough at work. 

Haewon has never felt particularly perturbed by it until now. She can almost hear the enunciation of the word ‘losers’ in his low, gruff voice.

Unlike Johnny’s prediction, Haewon’s will isn’t the only thing stopping her from talking to Doyoung about his fiancée when Monday comes. The issue turns out to be a lot less 1980s-movie-dramatic than they had expected – a case of timing.

Doyoung has been in and out of meetings since he entered the office after lunch.

It’s not even like Haewon has been systematically avoiding him. Doyoung barely had a chance to say hi to her and update her about the situation at Bertsman when he had been whisked away by a very anxious Lee Donghyuck, who had been held in trepidation for the last two weeks due to the declining sales figures. Haewon had laughed, gotten back to the copy she had been working on for Cho Young Jun’s book press release, her stomach lurching at the thought of what she had to do later.

There's no room for losers, the neat cursive print stares back at her from the wall.

It’s only hours later, when the sky has turned pitch black and the hour hand on the clock has pointed to ten, that Haewon begrudgingly creaked her joints into motion as she made her way to the Managing Editor’s office, cursing Johnny and all that he stood for as a person.

“Haewon!” Doyoung’s lips breaks into a smile and stands up suddenly, with only the harsh light from the desk lamp illuminating his face. “I thought I told you to leave at six, I don’t even know when I can leave the office…”

“Doyoung works late every night. We hardly spend much time in the same room anymore. We don’t even talk anymore, about our lives and our work.”

“Boss, you just got back late last night. You should rest.” She tries, “and, well, your fiancée might be waiting up…”

“It’s okay, Inhee understands,” Doyoung laughs, “besides, I sort of have to undo literally everything the Bertsman employees have done. That’s what I’ve been saying, you can’t trust any one of their employees, they don’t do things the way we do,” he smirks.

Haewon smiles softly at him, even if he cannot see, his eyes trailing after the lines on the paper in front of him.

“Ah, but what can I do? I’m just a worker ant.” He flops his arms around, as if mimicking an actual worker ant.

This action doesn’t bring Haewon laughter as she had expected. Instead, her heart feels like it’s been wrung, the sudden tightening in her chest inexplicable. She doesn’t know if it’s a biological reaction, but tears have started to fill her eyes, and there seems to be nothing else she can do but blink them back.

This is the Doyoung that Haewon has fallen in love with, all five foot ten of him, gummy smile and square shoulders, a kind boss and a workaholic - but how real her feelings are doesn’t and cannot negate how ill-placed the same feelings are in their situation. Here he is, looking at her, grinning at her, as her vision blurs. In that moment, she swears she hears something in her break; a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.

“Oh by the way, you really need to get back to me on the wedding,” he laughs breathily, “I really need that RSVP-”

“I can’t go.” The words leave her before she realizes, breath seeming to return to her lungs temporarily. “I… I can’t attend your wedding.”

His face falls.

“Oh, you have something that day?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No, I…” She looks down, licking her lips and inhaling shakily. “I can't attend your wedding, because…”

“Haewon.”

“Because… Because I like you.”

She hears more than sees his reaction, the pen in his hand slipping through his fingers and thudding gently onto the carpeted floor. “Haewon.”

“Because I like you,” her voice is still shaky, but there’s a part of her that’s calmer than ever before. “I can’t attend your wedding.”

She lifts her gaze to meet his, but Doyoung’s expression remains unreadable. She feels her jaw start to quiver, and clenches down on it.

“I like you, Doyoung. I like you so much that I can’t sleep, can’t think. I like you, I want to be with you, but you know what I also want?” She lets out a shaky breath, “I want you to be happy…”

It’s not like a leaky faucet, or a dam breaking. Instead, it’s like the little Dutch boy had pulled his finger out of her chest, because suddenly everything inside her is spilling out at once.

“But I see you everyday,” she shuts her eyes, and the tears flow at their will, “I don’t… know… what to do. Believe me, if I could will these feelings away, I would. I don’t want to feel so pathetic, I don’t want to like you like this.

“But I’ve also realized that I can’t be that… person, who stands on the sidelines and watches as you marry someone else - I can’t, I couldn’t do that to myself. I’m sorry. This is so out of line and you probably don’t want to hear this.” She inhales shakily, shutting her eyes as she pauses. “I’m sorry for telling you this… I just… I just needed you to know.”

Doyoung looks at her as if in a daze, his own lips quivering, until almost immediately, his head falls and he inhales sharply, as if giant invisible scissors had cut off his marionette strings.

“Why… Why now.”

Her eyes widen. “What do you-”

“Why are you telling me this, Haewon?” Doyoung looks at her like she’s missing a point, like she’s the most breakable thing in the world. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Her eyes sting with fresh tears. She can feel something rising in her throat - a sob, a scream - but she bites it back, shutting her eyes so tightly there are almost tears that refuse to escape. She hates herself for crying, for showing any weakness here, for thinking she ever had a shot with someone like him.

There's no room for losers, but in that moment, she can’t help but feel like she has become one.

It’s Friday, finally the end of the week.

She softly clicks the pen in her hand open and close, drifting in and out as Huang Renjun drones on and on about the press kits they are planning to prepare for the media and why the Marketing Department needed more of the budget to be allocated to them.

This meeting has lasted way too long, and it feels even longer with Doyoung right next to her, the sleeve of his jacket inches away from hers. He's scribbling down notes diligently, making her existence in the meeting obsolete - it’s been like this the whole week, and Haewon is exhausted. She knows what Doyoung is doing, how he’s taking meeting minutes down like someone who doesn’t have an assistant so he doesn’t have to ask her for them later. Despite the promise of putting what happened behind them on Monday, she’s entirely aware that things will never be the same again.

The envelope sitting in her bag is still warm, its contents only freshly printed this morning. She vaguely hears Kim Jungwoo asking a question before all eyes are suddenly turned towards her.

All, but Doyoung's.

She looks around the room, befuddled, while feeling Yuta’s foot nudge hers gently, presumably to get her to speak.

“I’m so sorry,” she finally says.

“Manager Kim asked if you had too much on your plate,” the timid intern next to Kim Jungwoo speaks up, “and if you were willing to undertake more of the comms with Cho Young Jun himself.”

She opens her mouth, surprised, and turns to Kim Jungwoo.

“As we were saying, before you spaced out on us,” he laughs good-naturedly, “we let him read the copy you wrote and he likes it. He specified that he wants to work with you.”

Haewon’s gaze drops to her notebook, where a messily scrawled question blinks back at her. Today or next week? She blinks, momentarily realizing that the decision presented to her now accounted for more in the future than she had thought.

“I… That would be a great opportunity for me, thank you.”

Kim Jungwoo grins. “Don’t thank me, your boss told the boy that you were highly supportive of his work. Of course he would be excited to work with you.”

She turns towards Doyoung, a wide-eyed Doyoung, a Doyoung who only looks back at her now, his eyes not betraying any emotion.

There’s something about placing the envelope on his desk that makes it so official, a breath of fresh air that comes from a gesture that’s so unabashedly melodramatic and passé. Doyoung eyes the envelope warily, clearly this was not something he had imagined.

“Why is it… addressed to me? Why isn’t it in an email?” Doyoung drops his glasses onto his desk, pressing his fingers gently against his eyelids. “Why… What is this, Haewon?”

“I just…” She licks her lips. “I just wanted to make sure you received it, is all.”

Doyoung looks at her for a moment, then gets up and shuts the door of his office, before clicking on the button below his desk, rendering the glass office translucent.

“Tell me, Haewon, what is this about? Is it because of Monday?”

She winces, remembering the state of mess she had reduced herself to that night. The only thing more pathetic than confessing to someone who’s engaged, is confessing to someone who’s engaged while crying.

“No, boss, of course not. I thought we agreed to put it behind us.”

“I thought we did too,” he says, sighing and standing with his hands on his waist. “Then what’s this about? I mean, do you want… a raise? What can I-”

“No no no, please don’t think that way. I applied for a Literary Arts Masters’ at Brown University,” Doyoung’s remains bewildered. “I want to be a writer, and, I want to study for it.”

Doyoung inhales shakily. “I mean, I know you wanted to write, but… You should have told me about this. I would’ve written you a letter of recommendation…”

“Well I got in,” she shrugs and smiles, “and… I want to do it. I’ll be admitted in the fall, so I’m moving soon.”

It’s almost like she can see the gears shifting in Doyoung’s head, the mental calculations as apparent. “Is that what you wanted to tell me on Monday? When you came into my office, is that the, well,” he licks his lips, “more technical reason why you can’t come to my wedding?”

Not entirely, she thinks. “Well, it’s one of them.”

Doyoung settles himself back into his chair, absentmindedly rearranging the stationery on his desk. “I don’t want a new assistant.”

Her heart sinks. “I know you’re stressed. I’m sorry, and… this feels irresponsible, that I didn’t tell you this earlier. Thing is, I didn’t really believe I would get in, and I got my letter so late, so now I only have the next three months…” She pauses, realizing that none of this should be important in the discussion. “That’s why I’m giving you a month’s notice instead of the required two weeks, I’m sorry that this is what I can only leave you with, but I want to help as much as I can. I swear, boss, I’ll get handovers done as best as I can, whether the recruitment is internal or external, I’ll make sure the transition is as smooth as possible for you-”

“No, I mean…” Doyoung stands up, the pinstripes of his suit bouncing against the light as he does, and walks slowly towards Haewon, standing right in front of her.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

If there's anything she'll miss, it's how Doyoung always leaves her breathless. The sincerity in his eyes twinkling like unshed tears, the way he just looks softly at her like this, his lips pursed tightly and making the small, almost unnoticeable scar by the corner of his lips more prominent. This is the Doyoung that makes her heart soar, an unspoken tenderness dancing across his features. But with this Doyoung also comes an unmistakable truth glaring right back at her.

“No one is irreplaceable, Doyoung,” she starts, a lump rising in her throat, “especially not me. And I think it’s clear that this week has proven that we are no longer able to work together properly because of my feelings and the awkwardness that it has caused.”

“I was trying to give you space-”

“I don’t need space, Doyoung!”

“What was I supposed to say? What am I supposed to say, Haewon? I’m engaged!”

He looks at her for a long time, then sighs and turns away exasperatedly, tears darting in his eyes.

And there it is - the bubble that has popped, the pink elephant in the room. Because the truth is, from start to finish, as selfish and morally repugnant as it is, Haewon had foolishly hoped for a future with this man somehow in some way, even when it had never been possible.

“You’re right,” Haewon feels her eyes sting, but she has promised herself that she is not going to cry in front of Doyoung ever again. They aren’t close enough for that.

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry, I don't know what I was expecting, why I said what I said.” She shakes her head, attempting to breathe again.

“Besides, your engagement isn’t the only thing standing in the way of anything happening between us.”

Doyoung looks up immediately. “What do you mean by that?”

Haewon winces and swallows, unwilling to spell it out. “I mean, you don’t… feel the same way, at all.”

There comes a point when things are undeniable and can't be hidden any longer, even from yourself.

“I never should have told you about it,” her voice comes out as a whisper this time, unintentionally intimate.

“I’m sorry - even with everything that I said that day, it only occurred to me after, how truly stupid and inappropriate it was… in the office, no less.” Doyoung begins to shake his head, but she continues. “I don't have an excuse for it, I’m sorry - but I swear I’m not… for the lack of a better word, punishing you or anyone else with my resignation. Even before telling you, I was bent on moving overseas for the degree. So Doyoung, you really don’t have to feel guilty or anything - you don’t owe me anything, I shouldn’t have said anything.

“At the same time… The chance for me to pursue my dream is too rare to give up on.

“You’ve done so well before I came into your life, you’re gonna be okay.”

Doyoung averts his gaze away once again, putting his hands into his pockets, and alternating between resting his weight on his left and right foot.

“You’re wrong, you know, you’ve never been more wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

He finally looks up, his eyes filled with sadness enough to keep Haewon from taking a step out of his office. Outside, phones are ringing and people are talking, noisy and continuous and completely unaware. But here, there is a Doyoung who looks at her like she could break easily, as he contemplates whether or not the next words have to be said, if at all.

“You said no one is irreplaceable, but you’re irreplaceable to me.”

It’s finally down to the last week of her work - and a part of Haewon feels guilty to admit that it is a relief.

This is what Doyoung and Haewon has been reduced to - two people who would rather send each other emails than talk face-to-face, even if it’s about work. On the bright side - if there is one - the diminished duties mean that Haewon has been given ample time to interview, recruit and train Doyoung’s new assistant - a dogged 25-year-old fresh graduate with a double major in Journalism and Communications who has an unhealthy obsession with cars, whom the younger estrogen-infused female interns label “daddy material”.

“Ready?” Johnny smiles as he shoves his keys in his pants pocket.

She slides her bag across her shoulder and looks at him up and down. “Johnny, you’re not ready.”

“Oh right! Shit,” Johnny mumbles to himself, rushing to his room to get his shirt.

It’s 8.25am, which means that Johnny’s definitely going to be late, since he’ll drop Haewon off at her office first, but Johnny doesn’t really seem to care. She laughs to herself, picking up her phone just as a message notification chimes.

Haewon, I’m so sorry I can’t tell you this myself, but I will be on personal leave for the entire week. I know you’re mostly done with handovers and training Jeno, but I’ll need you to hold the fort for this last week - just check your email, you’ll understand everything. I’m so sorry I can’t be here for your last week. Thank you.

Personal leave? What kind of emergency would-

“Haewon!” Johnny jogs out of his room, his phone and shirt in his hands. “Did you know?”

His eyes are wide with shock, his mouth open. He swallows, taking in Haewon’s equally baffled expression.

“I just got a call from my Mom. The wedding’s off…”

xx

w/n: dear friends, please do not zone out in meetings. it doth not helpeth thee.

also, johnny is a giant teddy bear

come scream at me!! here :-)

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - The Importance of Teamwork

Request #1: If you’re still up to doing any jimmy content could you maybe do a college jimmy best friends to lovers blurb of him taking care of you while at a party and like making sure you don’t have too much to drink but still letting you have fun. Maybe even him walking you home or something cute like that

Request #2: Can you do a harvard vesey imagine where you meet in one of your classes.  Fast forward you’re dating him, you cheer at all his games and he invites you to all fam events, by graduation you two move in together in nyc. Thnx!!

A/N: This is very on brand (tm) for me. it is 19 pages and about Jimmy Vesey. I worked with the two requests above, which are SO OLD. I’m sorry but it is COMPLETE :) As always, thank you to my babies, @hockeyandtaylorswift​ and @xolilyxo​ for being cute and lovely and encouraging <3 Additionally, I am aware Jimmy was 21 the summer of his junior year and that he went to worlds that summer, but this is fiction- thank you for your suspended disbelief.

“Teams of 4, due in two weeks!” Professor Blanch shouts as the first wave of students make their way to the door.

 Why any professor felt the need to assign a group anything at one of America’s most prestigious universities was just beyond you, especially before a coffee. You wait for your friend, Mallory, to finish scribbling into her planner. 

“I’m starving, write faster,” you tug at her hood, but she finishes up her sentence anyway. 

“We need to find two more friends for this assignment,” Mallory drops her planner into her purse and closes her laptop, following you out the door and into the courtyard.

“No new friends,” you say it loud enough that the boy behind you hears, and he slides forward in between you and Mallory, wrapping his arm around her waist, “What about an old friend?” 

“Tom, no, you suck at group projects.” Despite her vitriol, she lets him leave his arm wrapped around her. Mallory and Tom dated in middle school, it was cute and short lived, but they’ve stayed close, the way you can when you date at the tender age of 13. 

“I do! However, I came prepared,” he looks past you, and Tom has been running his mouth for so long, you failed to realize the boy standing to your left, just a step or two behind you.

“Jimmy’s wicked smart," Tom nods at his friend over your head.

Yeah, Jimmy’s wicked something that’s for sure. Your mind doesn’t immediately jump to smart, more like handsome, but the longer you stare, you’d venture to say he's probably wicked awkward too.

“Jimmy, don’t let him slide by on his good looks,” Mallory pushes Tom with her shoulder, “He’s gotta use that brain of his sometime."

Jimmy laughs. It makes you laugh too, because it seems like he's trying to hold in the sound before it makes its way out into the open; a burst of a chuckle left in the chilly air. 

"Tom doesn't have a brain. But he's a good wingman so I keep him around," Jimmy's no longer a step behind the group and it appears you and Mallory have found your foursome. 

"We're going to get food, but I'm making the executive decision that we're a team now. Tom, make a group text and well figure out a time to meet. See you guys later," you tug Mallory towards the dining hall and wave goodbye to the boys. 

"At least we know we'll pass now," Mallory plops her tray down on the table across from you, "Tom's friend, Timmy? He's like a fuckin' genius apparently."

"Jimmy," you make out through your sandwich. 

"Right. Is Tom looking really good these days? Or is it just me?" Mallory looks thoughtful for a moment before she digs into her burger, "I'm going to give him another shot, I think." You nod, you liked Tom, and you know for a fact he's always had a soft spot for Mal. 

"You should." She smiles at you over her french fries and just like that it's decided. You're going to get Mal her man. 

______

Everyone decides it's best to work in Jimmy's dorm, his roommate is never there, so he has reign of the common room most weekends. 

You text Mal as you cross Elm Yard and she's running late as usual. She tells you she'll be there soon, which means she isn't even vertical yet. 

Stopping outside of Weld, you take a second before you call Jimmy. Weld is beautiful and you wish your dorm was there instead of Canaday, but at least your roommates are great so you can't complain much. 

Jimmy answers the phone and says he'll meet you at the entrance; you wait for him patiently. The weather is beautiful, so you don't mind; a mild day, warm enough that a sweatshirt was sufficient. 

"Hey, sorry," he huffs out a breath and moves to the side so you can enter the hall and start climbing the stairs. "I realized it was kind of a mess up there, I was cleaning a little when you called." You nod, understanding how college boys tend to be.

After three flights you're getting a little winded, "Jesus, your dorm on the roof?"

"It's actually on the first floor, I'm just trying to help you get your cardio up," he says it so dry and matter-of-fact that you're sure he's serious; you're about to turn around and slap him. When you whip your head around to give him a death glare, he's got mirth in his eyes and you can tell he's kidding. 

"I almost slapped you." You face forward and keep trudging up the stairs." He tugs your sweatshirt as you start to climb to the fifth floor. "I was a little worried. Thought you might push me down the stairs. This is me though, four."

He unlocks the door and lets you in. It's actually pretty tidy, which means he shoved all the mess away in his bedroom. You know, because you've done the same thing when you were expecting people in your dorm. 

"Tom's not here yet?" You look around before plopping your backpack onto the floor next to a plush looking couch. 

"He was here, but he decided to go get us all breakfast. So he'll be back in a bit." Jimmy sits in the arm chair and motions for you to sit on the couch before he kicks his feet up onto the table. 

"Tom thought of that all on his own? That was nice of him." You're skeptical because while Tom has always been a very good friend, he's not really a thoughtful planner. Jimmy looks skittish, but leans forward and drops his feet down to the floor. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" He drops his voice conspiratorially. 

You lean in, butt on the edge of the couch and nod solemnly, "You can."

"He really likes Mallory. We talked about it last night and he wanted an idea that wasn't too pushy or over the top to start out, so breakfast and coffee is what we came up with." 

Your heart kind of swells a little in your chest, because that's adorable: two bros plotting how to be semi-romantic. It also helps to know Tom's feelings; it makes your life a little easier to know he's interested. 

You decide right there that you genuinely like Jimmy. He's a good guy to help his friend out and he seems respectful about the whole thing, so it's really serving to put him in your good graces. 

"Should we start without them? Mal's running late too- because of who she is as a person," Jimmy huffs a breath out of his nose in what you assume is a vaguely amused response. 

"Absolutely not; Tom's love life is not coming before this. It's 25% of our grade." He's right, really. You don't want to do extra work because Mal can't be bothered to be awake before 11 am on a Saturday. 

"So, while we wait... " You're feeling a little awkward, sat in Jimmy's space when you barely know anything about him, but you don't want to be pushy and  chatter his ear off either. 

"I'm Jimmy, I'm from Massachusetts and my major is economics," he stands up and waves, like the professors make you do on the first day of your freshman classes and it makes you laugh.

"Okay, I'm (y/n), and I'm also from here and my major is government… and I like long walks on the beach?" He smiles dopey at you and you notice his sweatshirt for the first time. 

"Oh, do you play on the team?" The crimson Harvard Hockey emblem splashed across his broad chest. 

His face gets rosy, but he looks proud when he answers, "Yeah, I do." 

That's when Tom walks into the common room, Mal and the rustle of bags tagging along behind him. "Don't be shy Vesey. He'll probably be captain next year!" 

"We should come see a game! School spirit, ya know?" Mal says in between sips of her coffee. Jimmy nods, but his face gets impossibly rosier and you can see the color drip down his neck.

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Jimmy smiles and clears his books off of the coffee table to make way for breakfast. "After this we need to get started. I have practice tonight."

_______

The hot chocolate burns your tongue a little but it's worth it, "a part of the experience," Jimmy had insisted. He did not mention how freezing you'd be sitting a few rows off the ice, patiently waiting for Mal to show up with gloves and hats, her habitual lateness being useful, for once. 

It's still early before the game and the teams take the ice for warm ups. You go down to the front and press your free hand against the cold glass. When you see Jimmy you bang your palm against it, your ring clanking shrilly and turning Jimmy's head. 

He waves and skates over, spraying ice on the glass and getting you to duck even though it isn't high enough to make it over the boards. 

"Hey, you came." It's the closest Jimmy gets to excited. You've been hanging out with him more, especially since you two have joined forces to get Mal and Tom together, and you know it's high praise, despite the steady tone his voice maintains. 

"I did. You gotta score a goal now," he raises his eyebrows and they disappear under his helmet. "To impress me, obviously,” shrugging you continue, “I mean, you drag me out here on a Friday night, better make it worth my while." 

"You wouldn't know a good play if it danced around in front of you naked in Dobby's tea cozy," he smiles, an actual wide smile that's so rare, but this is why you and Jimmy became such fast friends. He teases you as much as you tease him, not to mention that dry sarcasm. It gets right into your chest and endears him to you. What a nerd. 

"I've been doing research!" You shout as he laughs before popping his mouth guard back in and skating away towards his teammates who are clearly missing him in warm ups. 

"Stop flirting and take some of this shit from me before I drop it," Mallory bowls into you, Tom hot on her tail holding two steaming cups from Dunkin. She really came in handy today, her arms are laden with hats and gloves and two blankets. You take your share and leave her with only one blanket, so she and Tom are forced to snuggle up together. 

"Not everyone has to flirt with every male they see, Mallory. Don't project." She rolls her eyes as she pulls on her own hat and gloves and takes her drink from Tom. 

The game is quick. As soon as the puck drops you can tell tensions are high. Cornell put together a really good team this year, you know this because you really have been doing research. You and Jimmy get lunch together a lot and hang out, with or without Mal and Tom, at least once a week. It only seems fair that you look into his biggest passion. 

You think you read somewhere that games like this are referred to as "chippy." You're thankful when the first period ends and you can finally take a whooshing breath. 

Tom must hear you, "This is sort of a rough game for it to be your first. We kind of have a thing with Cornell," he grimaces. Jimmy had told you as much, but you didn't think you'd be so worried seeing him wiz around in the ice, hardly dodging bodily harm.

"It's fun though," you say, because it's the truth. It's doubly enjoyable since you have a stake in the outcome, and can only hope you'll all be out celebrating come the end of the game. 

The second period flies by as fast as the first and before you know it it's halfway through the third. Cornell has been up by 1 most of the game, but a rogue shot at Harvard's goalie finds Jimmy in the corner and he carries it up the ice and through Cornell's defensemen and shelfs it over the goalie's shoulder. He points over at you with his stick and a laugh bubbles out of your chest at the theatrics, but you clap and cheer with the rest of the building. 

If Mal and Tom send a sidelong look your way, it is promptly ignored in favor of your formerly hot chocolate. 

Apparently Cornell's defenseman considers this goal to be a personal affront, because he finds Jimmy celebrating behind the net and slams him against the boards. The home crowd makes their displeasure known and the ref sends him to the box for unsportsmanlike conduct. 

Apparently two minutes isn't enough for him to cool off, since he finds Jimmy seconds after his next face-off and drops his gloves. The crowd is on their feet at once. 

You've known Jimmy for almost the entire semester at this point, but you definitely haven't seen this side of him quite yet. He's furious, left hand wound in the shoulder of the d-man's jersey, right hand doing more damage than the opposing player expected. Jimmy is big compared to you, tall and lean towering over you, but he's slight when stacked up against a lot of the other players on the ice, slimmer and more wiry in build. 

Despite the weight advantage of Cornell in this particular brawl, Jimmy is the one left standing at the end. You join the crowd in shouting his name. Two syllables, VE-SEY VE-SEY, over and over again until the refs eject them both from the game with less than 4 minutes remaining in the period. At least it's all tied up as Jimmy skates to the tunnel, helmet off and mouth still running. 

They win of course. Bolstered by the adrenaline that a good bout of fisticuffs brings, the captain nets one with a minute left putting Harvard up by one. Cornell fails to tie it again before the end of the third. 

You all wait around in the entrance of the rink, it feels good to strip out of the winter wear and be a normal temperature again. A bunch of the team passes through, bags over their shoulders and hair still damp from the post-game shower.  

Jimmy is one of the last few out, he's talking lowly but animatedly to- who Tom identifies as- the team's captain. When he sees you all standing around waiting he nods his goodbyes to his captain and walks towards you. Under his eye you can just make out some discoloration which will surely be an impressive bruise tomorrow. 

You hold out a fist for Jimmy to bump, "I may not know much, but good game. That was awesome, Vesey." He bumps your fist but wrinkles his nose at you. He hates when girls call him by his last name. "Reminds me of my coach," he had told you one night after he was gently rebuffed by a pretty redhead at the bar. 

" 's a good game to be your first," he continues after thanking Tom and Mal for coming as well. You all walk outside to your cars, Mal and Tom walking slightly ahead of you and Jimmy- laden with his heavy hockey bag. They're walking close and talking softly to each other.

You bump Jimmy's arm with your shoulder and point up ahead at them, raising your eyebrows and smiling. He looks ahead and nods proudly at you, throwing an elbow back your way, comrades in arms.

Tom and Jimmy do a little bro handshake when they get back to their cars and decide to hit up a bar across town, Tom and Mal hop in and promise to get a table so Jimmy has time to return his bag to his dorm first. 

You wait for Jimmy to shove the heavy duffle into his trunk before he turns around. "Did they drive you here? You need a ride?"

"No, I'm parked over there," you jerk your thumb behind you," I just wanted to make sure you got to your car okay and weren't concussed," you give him a sideways smile and he rolls his eyes at you. 

"I scored you a goal just like you asked and this is the respect I get? Sad.” You shrug but start walking backwards to your car as Jimmy clicks his key fob to unlock his doors. “I’ll pick you up at your place? You deserve to celebrate. I’ll be DD tonight.” Jimmy places his hand over his heart and tilts his head sideways.

“Knew this friendship would pan out for me eventually.” You flip him off, but follow him to his dorm anyway.

________

It’s really lucky that Tom and Mal went ahead to get a table because the place is packed. As you and Jimmy flash your IDs (albeit fakes) to the bouncer, he walks ahead of you, breaking up the crowd so you can get through, his hand trails behind him for you to hold onto so you don’t get separated. You take it and squeeze it in thanks. He leads you over to where Mal and Tom have already secured a table. 

They’re cozied up next to each other, so you slide into the inside of the booth and Jimmy sits beside you. The boys talk over the game and you don't miss the way Tom relaxes, leaning back against the booth with his arm around Mal. It feels like a job well done. 

"Jim?" He breaks his conversation with Tom to look over at you, "I'll pay for drinks if you go to the bar?" You offer, hopeful that you won't have to bully your way through the crowd to the bartender.

"I thought you were DD tonight?" He looks at you sideways, but takes your card anyway. 

"We can probably call a cab and leave my car here?" He smiles at the idea of a loose night out with his friends and agrees, "Alright, I got next round then." 

You don't miss the whack Mal gives Tom. It's definitely not as sly as she thinks it is. "I'll get us another round too," the men make their way to the bar through the thick crowd and Mal turns on you. 

"You and Jimmy look cute together," leave it to Mal to drop a bomb like that and go back to sipping her drink like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

"Stop, we're friends," you warn her gently. "And the focus right now is you and Tom." You take the time to follow her eye line to the boys, waiting patiently at the bar for their drinks. 

You're still looking when a petite brunette makes her way over to him and taps him on the shoulder. He spins around and glances down to see who the offender is and his eyes shine with recognition as he hugs her hello. 

Without being dishonest, your heart drops a little bit. She's really pretty; petite and well dressed. Mal catches your eyebrows, knit into a furrow as you chew on your cheek. "You just said you didn't like him."

It's more defensive than you want it to sound when you assure her, "I didn't- I don't" you stammer, knowing she's trapped you, "It's just, we're all here together- it's a friends night. I don't know. It's stupid."

Tom starts making his way back with another round for him and Mal, but Jimmy sips his beer and nods along to whatever she's saying before the bartender places a basket of fries on the counter and Jimmy dips down to hug her again and points over to where you're sitting before he picks up both drinks in one large hand, the fries in the other and starts back to the table. 

He plops everything down onto the table between the two of you and swings his right arm over your shoulders before grabbing a fry and shoving it in his mouth. Mallory kicks you under the table. 

"Who was that, Jim," a deep sip of your drink has you closing your eyes and doing your best to ignore just about everything going on at the table: Jimmy's arm around you, Mallory's meddlesome line of questioning, and Tom's moon eyes at her every word. 

"Oh- uh," he shoves another 3 fries into his mouth. Mal clears her throat, a tactic she uses when she doesn't want to repeat herself but wants an answer. "She's, ah. She's an ex. I was trying to be nice. It didn't end well, but it's been a while." 

You pick up a fry, aiming for nonchalance, "Sorry to hear that. She's cute." 

Jimmy straight up snorts, "Yeah, she knows it too. We dated for a while, but she cheated on me. I found out eventually. It sucked." 

You nod, because what else are you supposed to say, it does suck. He's right. What you're not expecting is when his arm tightens around you and he says, "I told her I was here with my girlfriend, so if you catch her looking, maybe just be… girlfriend-y?" 

Slapping your palm to your face, you can only hear as Mal snorts and Tom straight up laughs. 

"C'mon. You're pretty. I want her to at least be a little jealous," he raises his eyebrows in question and his orbital bone is already looking a little shadowed, so you nod and move closer, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"Thanks, I owe you one." His arm wrapped around you tightens again and the weird thing is that your heart does that same inside your chest. 

______

After the cab drops you off at Weld, Jimmy insists on getting you back to your dorm safe and sound. You're both a little worse for the wear, but you're emboldened to swing your arm around his waist, mostly to keep steady, but a little because you secretly hope he'll call you pretty again. 

Jimmy's telling you some dumb story about the hijinx he got up to in high school and you're warm down to your toes. It's probably the beer, but it's likely the company too. 

"...so then, I tried to jump onto the ice but he put tape on the bottom of my skates and ya know, without the edges I just fell right on my face. It was so embarrassing. The girl I liked was there, my grandma was there. It was awful." His arm is hooked around you too and you're doubled over hysterical. 

"You deserved that!" You shout, slapping your thigh. Your voice echoes back in the courtyard and you don't mean to be so loud, but you're happy and having a good time and the semester is finally rolling to an end and you have found a new best friend in Jimmy and everything is just looking sparkly and happy through your beer goggles. 

"Oh! We're here. I didn't realize we were so close," you want to read into his tone, but you're probably just drunk and hopeful. It's been a while since you've dated, laser focused on graduating for these past three years. With junior year quickly coming to an end you're starting to think that you may have missed out on something. 

Standing in front of your building with Jimmy makes you feel a little hopeful, though. 

"We're going to be messes in the morning," you mumble it into his side. 

"Yeah, I'll call you when I wake up. Maybe we can grab some breakfast." He walks you up the steps and you don't quite want to scurry up to bed yet.

"Sounds good. Thanks for inviting me… us. Thanks for having us.. at the game.. tonight. And for my goal," you struggle through and he looks amused, right eye blooming purple now under the dim lights. 

"Any time," he wraps you up in a hug and leaves you on the steps. 

When you get up to your room and wash your face you decide to send him a text. 

Let me know when you're safe back at Weld. 

Because that's the kind of caring shit friends do. 

______

The semester ends in a flurry a month later. Finals find you and Jimmy pulling all nighters in the library. 

He helps. He is a fuckin' genius and his input is welcome when it comes to the stack of papers you have to submit. It isn't all one sided; his government class has been kicking his ass and you complement him there, filling in his knowledge gaps. 

When you receive a text after his last final that simply says 

FREEDOM 

you laugh at first, telling him your last final starts in 20 minutes, before a sad sort of dread fills your belly. 

You and Jimmy have grown so close this semester you're petrified that the summer will throw you back to casual acquaintances and that's a frightening prospect. 

Mal got you to spill the beans to her last weekend. One last outing before the semester ends. She pumped you full of spiked seltzer and got you to wax lyrical about how smart Jimmy is and how your heart flutters when he skates over to the glass to say hi before a game starts- a tradition now, since they haven't lost a game since he's started doing it. 

So when he's standing outside of your building, holding two iced coffees dripping condensation in the midday balmy heat, you're elated. 

"Finally," he hands you one of the coffees and starts heading towards your dorm room. 

Sipping your coffee you stay silent most of the walk before you decide to question the act, "Do you need something? Why are you being so nice?" 

He feigns a pained expression and dramatically throws his free hand over his chest. "Ouch."

"I happen to know you're not ready to move out yet, so I cleared the day to help you and this is the thanks I get.”

It would be so nice if he'd just confess his love to you so you could stop dissecting every word he says, but it doesn't seem like that's going to happen any time soon, so you'll take what you can get- in the way of a really awesome friend who's willing to help you pack. 

After you get back to your dorm, he's a dynamo, he says it's because of all the last minute packing for hockey camp, but the fact remains that between the two of you your stuff is ready to go after a few short hours. It looks sad, everything in boxes and ready to be stuffed into your little sedan. The only saving grace is that Jimmy orders pizza halfway through for both of your rumbling stomachs.

As you eat pizza on the floor sat atop the only two pillows you have, Jimmy pauses and clears his throat, calling your attention up, away from your pepperoni. 

"So, my family has this summer home down at the cape. I was thinking one week I'd do, like, a friends party? You interested?"

Actual cemented plans would be exciting but this is definitely the right direction, so you nod and shove more pizza into your face, as does Jimmy.

______

He gets the call 3 weeks into summer. You've been texting daily and he face timed you once or twice when he was skating around with his little cousins, but when the notification comes through before 10am you're actually concerned that something is wrong. 

"Hey, everything okay? You answer quickly, rolling onto your back and adjusting your hat to block out the bright summer sun. It's a beach day for sure. 

"They made me captain. Coach just called." 

You almost shriek in delight but then remember all of the other people lying on the peaceful beach, "That's incredible Jimmy! Congratulations. I'm so proud of you; you really earned it."

He brushes the praise off with a quick thank you and barrels on, "So to celebrate I'm going to do that party I told you about, at the summer house? Are you still in? I'm thinking next week?"

You're obviously so in, and you tell him you can't wait. He hurries off the phone so he can call his mom and dad with the good news and your heart jumps that you merited the first call. Not a big deal.

______

You, Jimmy, Mal, and Tom get there two days before everyone else. It feels cool, like you're old married couples on vacation together… except none of that is true, you and Jimmy just reaching legal drinking age this summer. 

You spend the Wednesday settling in, picking bedrooms you know you'll lose once the next handful of Jimmy's guests arrive on Friday night. Mal already said you guys could share once that happens; Tom and Jimmy make the same pact. Jimmy insisting that the "core four" should get to sleep in real beds and not be relegated to couches or the cool hardwood floors. 

The cape is gorgeous and after you pick rooms and get changed everyone heads to the beach and spends the day exactly how college students should behave during the warm summer; rotating between drinking in the sand, dozing in the sun, and cooling off in the ocean. It's glorious. By the time night falls you're all well and truly ready to crash. 

Thursday finds the four of you in the supermarket, trying to figure out how much food a handful of hockey players and their girlfriends will eat over the course of two days. 

"Listen, if they need more than this they can run to the store," Jimmy's cart is piled high with hotdogs, hamburgers and the like. You manage to slip in a bag of those ice pops in the plastic tube that make you think of summers as a kid and he doesn't catch it until checkout. 

"Who's the six year old?" He looks at Tom but you raise your hand. Jimmy drops it onto the conveyor belt, "Okay, if it's for you." Mal gushes out an "aww," but you ignore her, as does Jimmy, and you move to the end of the belt to start bagging. 

Friday morning you wake up early and start getting the house ready for the party. Jimmy saunters into the kitchen in a pair of boxers and you're happy you're pulling the meat from the freezer to defrost, because your ears are definitely getting hot. 

His skin is tinged red on his chest from all of the summer sun; his face and shoulders sporting new freckles. When he starts talking, it's only polite to look over at him, so you try to keep your gaze north of his thighs, thick from hockey, and upwards from his toned stomach where his boxers sag too much to be good for your health, and slightly higher than his chest, since you don't have your sunglasses on like you did at the beach for inconspicuous staring. 

"Did you see Tom? He's not in his room." You shake your head no, "He hasn't come out here that I've seen." 

Jimmy peeks out the kitchen window, "All the cars are still here." 

The thought hits you both at the same time as you slide across the kitchen floor, bare feet slapping against the hardwood straight to Mal's room. 

Waiting outside the door you catch your breath and gently knock, "Mal?" You get no answer so you try again a little louder, "Mal?!" 

You hear what you're sure is more than one person fumbling around behind the door and glancing over at Jimmy's amused face, you can bet he hears it too. 

"Shit, yeah- don't! Uh, don't come in! I'm not dressed!" She tries to play it off, but you suddenly remember the way she batted her eyes after Jimmy bought your ice pops yesterday, so you decide to give her a little of her own medicine. 

"Oh, you're not? Is Tom not dressed either?" Jimmy laughs, loud and clear and your heart practically bursts. You get fuzzy in your brain when he thinks you're funny; he's usually so reserved. 

Mal's sigh can be heard through the door, "No he's not." Jimmy claps and you decide you've given her enough shit for now. 

"We'll all talk about this when you guys are decent. Take your time." You fist bump Jimmy on your way back to the kitchen, "Mission accomplished." 

______

"Slow down, champ." He says it with a laugh, so all you can do is smile back at him and continue to drink from the red solo cup in your hand.

"Why don't you hit a fucking cup, Captain? We're losing." He takes the cup from you before you can finish it, though. 

"I will, just let me drink this real quick." He’d be infuriating if you were on the opposite side of the table. The way he shoots the stupid little ball while he's still draining the drink in his hand and it splashes gently in the beer it finds in the other teams rack, but right now you're on his side of the table and you love him for it. 

“Let’s gooooo!” You jump up and down slapping high fives onto him, his hands aren’t even up, but it’s your third game in a row and you’re really excited. 

“It’s your shot, c’mon you lush.” You hit the cup too and the other team begrudgingly rolls the balls back to your side of the table. When you both succeed in sinking the balls back to back again, the game is over and you jump up into his waiting arms. It’s the highlight of your evening.

The party slowly winds down, most of the others heading back into the beach house and crashing on the various makeshift beds. Jimmy wanders inside, but returns quickly with two bottles of water before he sits down next to you. 

You sit, side by side, feet slipped into the water over the side of the dock. 

“Hey,” he shifts his shoulder up. Your head, resting heavily on him, moves with it. You pick up your head and look up at him. “Yes?” He looks soft and tipsy under the moonlight, and even though it's breezy on the water, there's warmth radiating from your chest out to the rest of your body. You’re too tired to think about it, the sunny day finally catching up to you.

“Let’s go inside; I’m tired,” he pulls his feet back up and stands before you can, holding out a hand to help you up, which you take and pop up next to him. 

You don't think about sleeping arrangements until you walk past your room for the past two days and remember that you're supposed to be sleeping in Mal's tonight. Her door is closed and she's wrapped a scrunchie around the handle. Awesome. Tom's room across the hall is locked up, so you know it's been claimed like yours was when a few of the players arrived this afternoon. 

You follow behind Jimmy and knock on the still-open door of his master suite. 

"Uh, Mal obviously forgot our plan to share." You pout, upset at the idea of having to sleep on the floor after spending the past two days in the plush guest bed. You lean heavily against the door jamb and hope you don't have to ask.

"I mean, she's still sharing, technically. Just not with you," Jimmy takes off his baseball cap and bends the brim in his hands, avoiding eye contact.

You really don't want to sleep on the floor and you've had just enough to drink that you decide you're not going to wait for Jimmy to stumble onto the idea himself. 

"Can I stay in here with you?" It comes out soft- he doesn't look up right away and you're not entirely sure that he heard you until he drops his hat on the dresser and plants his hands on his hips, looking over at you.

"Did you think I'd let you end up on the floor somewhere? C'mon (y/n), get real," he has a soft smile on his face as he shakes his head and you finally step into the room. 

You sit on the bed and it seems a little surreal. Jimmy says he's going to change in the bathroom. You hear the door close behind him and after a second he starts laughing. 

There isn't much time to wonder why he's laughing. He comes out of the bathroom, still in his swim trunks, but with his freckled chest on display. Slightly distracted by his state of undress, it takes a second for you to see what's hanging from his hand. 

Your duffle bag. 

"Mal left a note," he holds it up in his other hand, "it's folded and says your name, so I didn't read it," he hands you the paper and you open it against your better judgement. 

"What's it say?" You really want this conversation to be over, or for him to put a shirt on, or both. Both would be good. 

Mal's bubbly handwriting just says "You're welcome," punctuated with a smiley face and a heart above her name. You hate her. It's official. 

"It literally just says 'you're welcome,' nothing important." Jimmy's face gets red and it paints down his neck and onto his collar bones. 

"Can I use the bathroom? I just want to sleep I'm so tired." He says yes and steps out of your way; you take the duffle bag and close the door behind you. 

A quick tear through the bag reveals that you have brought very little in the way of pajamas. A short, old pair of yoga shorts and a threadbare tank top that has definitely seen better days. You dig through again hoping something better will magically appear but it doesn't, so you change into what you have and hope exhaustion carries you off to sleep before you can be too self conscious about your attire.

The light is still on when you exit the bathroom and drop your bag onto the floor next to the bed. Jimmy's already lying down scrolling through his phone and when you peel the covers back you peek that he's still naked from the waist up and your heart trips in your chest. It doesn't help that he's got on these ridiculous Gryffindor sleep pants and you just want to suffocate him in kisses. 

"Can I turn out the light?" Your voice is soft again, nervous that the moment is too delicate and will break if you're not careful. 

"Yeah, I'm good," Jimmy's voice sounds rough, which doesn't really help matters, but you don't want to think about that as you switch off the lights and lie on your side, facing away from him with as much space in between you as possible. You know you won’t be able to fall asleep for a while so you open up a crossword app on your phone and start a new puzzle. 

It’s a minute before you can feel a breath on your neck. “What are you doing, why is it so bright in here?” 

He must have rolled closer because you can feel the heat radiating off of him and onto you. “I’m doing a crossword. It helps me sleep.” You roll onto your back and the light from your phone illuminates Jimmy’s face and he squints against it. 

“Can I help? I’m not tired yet.” 

“Number 16 across, ‘wide receiver’s pattern?”

“Route? Does it fit?” 

You type it in and nod, and he shifts closer to you so he can see the board. The crossword is a nice distraction from the fact that you are literally sharing a pillow and that you can feel his pajama pants against your bare leg. You keep reading out clues and he’s actually really good at this and you just want to kiss his dumb, nerd face. 

It’s a good thing he’s moved onto poking at your screen, because as he rolls onto his side to face you and get a better view of your phone, you’re sure he'd notice you staring at his exposed collarbones and wide shoulders. 

You hand your phone over, your arms tired from holding it up. Jimmy takes it and decides to lay flat on his back. Immediately missing the warmth, you huff and roll onto your side, sleepy and comfortable, tucked into Jimmy’s shoulder.

“You’re not sly, babe.” You jerk, ripping your eyes from all the smooth skin pulled tight over the muscle in his chest. 

“Wha- what am I not sly about?” The only thing you can think of is to jump immediately on the defensive, Jimmy doesn’t even look away from number 22-down. 

“What are we doing here?” he hits the home button on your phone and closes the app turning his head towards you, nose-to-nose. The direct eye contact is overwhelming, especially since there’s barely any distance between the two of you now, cuddled close after sharing the phone. 

“We’re… sleeping?” you chance placing your hand gently on his arm, needing something to ground you for this conversation. 

“We are not sleeping, (y/n).” You’re so nervous, breath coming quick and wispy. He knows, oh my God, he knows, how embarrassing, our friendship is ruined, everything is over. The doubts race through your mind, but he lays his big hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

You shake your head, “We aren’t,” your voice is small, timid in the dark. 

“Can I just-?” His hand snakes from your waist, up your back, leaving chills where it trails, to the smooth skin of your neck. You nod, more furiously than you want to, anything that would have qualified as calm is long gone with the way his heat is seeping into your skin, bodies pressed together, but still so terrified and shy. 

You don’t even know what you’re nodding yes to, but it’s Jimmy. He “can just” do anything he wants. He’s so, so smart, and funny, and sweet. Unsure of why you’ve been denying this for so long, he’s showing obvious, undeniable interest, you make a mental note to tell Mal she was right, you are cute together. 

It takes him a moment, but he leans in, tilting his head at the last second and kissing you. It’s soft at first, barely brushing lips, with his thumb on your jaw, like you’d ever try to move away. Quickly you get frustrated, so much wasted time, you could have been doing this for months now. You back away and he’s a little breathless, looking up at the ceiling. You’re uncomfortable on your side, arm going numb; boldly you crawl on top of him, straddling his waist. 

“Oh,-” he’s surprised before you lean down and start sucking on the tendon in his neck, hands roaming all over the freckled skin you couldn’t look away from hours before. 

His words come out broken, and you take it as a victory, pushing your hips back and grinding down gently, “I didn’t- wha-, Jesus Christ.” You give him a break and stop circling your hips, “Use your words, Captain.” 

“I wasn’t even sure if you were interested. Why didn't you tell me?” You don’t think he actually wants you to answer, he pulls you back down and his hands go to the bottom of your tank top, tucking underneath and resting on the bare skin of your waist. You don't want to let him get away with it, so you grumble into the kiss, "You didn't say anything either." 

You back away because he’s so hard and you can feel him through your shorts and you’re tired of denying yourself the things that you want for some imagined, nonsense reasons. So, you lie back on your side, running your palm up and down Jimmy’s erection, hoping he’d stop you if he felt like it was going to far. 

He sighs and puts his hand over yours, stopping the movement and you’re instantly mortified; you’ll probably just die here of embarrassment, but he pipes up, “I didn’t- didn’t bring any condoms. Didn’t know I had a shot.” 

The laugh that bubbles up isn’t one you can quell, “It’s okay, we have time for that. Let’s just touch.” He lets go of your hand and lets you continue softly jerking him off. Becoming bold, he slides his pajamas down so there’s less material between you. It’s still not enough and you want to feel the silky skin you know is there, so you creep up into his ear and ask, while slipping the tips of your fingers under the elastic band on his waist, “Please, can I?” 

You’ve hardly said please before he tips his hips up and pulls his boxer-briefs down to give you better access. He lets you tug, experimenting with pressure to determine what he likes best.

If asked, not that you'd cop to thinking about it at any length, you would have thought Jimmy would be quiet in bed- stoic and silent, like he usually is. You’re delighted to find out he’s so responsive- talkative and downright chatty. You never have to guess what he likes because he lets out moans and whispers your name like it was created just to fall from his lips in the dark. 

He finally grabs your hand and pulls you off of his throbbing cock, “I need a break, I’m going to explode.” You’re annoyed for a second, because, yeah hello- that’s what you’re trying for here. But then he rolls you over onto your back and hovers above you and you’re not so annoyed anymore.

It’s not your first time, but by the time he gets your shorts off, sucks his fingers into his mouth, and gently dips a finger inside you, it may as well be. Nothing in your past has prepared you for the way Jimmy pays attention to you, two fingers in your pussy and his mouth attached to your nipple where he’s tugged the front of your tank top down. 

It’s minutes before you come, muscles clenching around his pumping fingers, hands balled into tight fists behind his shoulders. You’re panting out his name, the distant worry that someone in another room may hear you exists before you orgasm, but it peaks and you couldn’t give two damns about anyone who isn’t Jimmy right now. You pull him down and kiss him hard on the mouth. 

"Wow. Okay, your turn," he looks delighted at how you wiggle out from under him and push him against the headboard, crawling down to his pelvis. The look slips straight off if his face, replaced by closed eyes and a slack jaw when you take him in your mouth. 

You're sleepy and overcome with the lust you feel for Jimmy; it almost seems like a hazy dream, too perfect to be true. Big hands wound in your hair as Jimmy gently supports you bobbing up and down on him, a steady stream of praise leaving his lips, "Baby, please. My god, so good- so pretty -like you so much."

It's the moan you let out around his cock that gets him, has him trying to pull you off, sputtering explanations and apologies as you try your best to let him finish in your mouth. You swallow him down, drunk with the high of what you've just done, a thick film of nerves slowly coating the two of you as you lie side by side in the king bed. 

"My parents usually sleep in here," is what he comes up with, breathless and sweaty, pulling you close with one arm. 

"OH MY GOD!" You slap your hand down over his mouth, but you can feel the grin that lingers under your hand. "Jimmy, you're the worst."

"Yeah, but you like me. How embarrassing for you." His grin hasn't waned and you're wearing a matching one.

"It is. It's awful," you yawn loud and as much as you'd like to lie in the afterglow, but you're physically and emotionally exhausted after that whirlwind. Jimmy's eyes are looking a little droopy too, so you lay a soft kiss in the center of his chest and snuggle in for the night, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

______

In the end, everyone played a part.

It's Mal who finds you in the morning, squealing for Tom in delight of their handiwork. 

It's Tom who slides into the room in his socks and high fives Jimmy for "finally manning up."

It's Mal who helps you pick out an outfit for when you officially meet his family at a cousin's wedding, diverting your gaze with warm cheeks after they invite you to their summer home in the cape.

It's Tom who helps Jimmy select an apartment in New York after graduation when Jimmy signs with The Rangers. 

It's Jimmy who picks the ring he holds when he drops down on one knee to ask you to have him as your husband.

And it's you that nods yes, dropping down to wrap your arms around his neck and crying into his neck, promising you'll love him forever.

[slothgiirl]

shadowplay part 16

The clock reads five in the morning and Alex is barely putting his notebook down. He’d sent a couple samples to Miles, once it had become clear that nothing he was writing particularly screamed Arctic Monkeys . None of it felt right for their next album.

So he thought Miles might use it on his next album. It would be a shame to throw it all away, never let the beginnings of some songs see the light of day. Especially since he’d spent the better part of a month writing his days away.

And Miles. . .Miles planned to fly into London and see what they could come up with together. There was nothing like writing with Miles.

Alex empties out his ash tray and washes his now cold cup of coffee, he’d only ended up having a sip, cleaning up after himself in your apartment: already anticipating curling up next to you in bed for a bit before you left for work.

He never understood how you got up before your alarm went off in the morning. It had been years since Alex had gotten up before eleven in the morning. And right now, with all the work he’d been doing, it was a miracle if he was up before 2.

He scrolls through his email like a proper adult, just in case anything important’s come up. Abandons his guitar on the coffee table and wonders when exactly he started living here with you. He couldn’t pinpoint a date if his life depended on it. But it just felt natural.

It’s a change for him. Alex is used to being the one to ask his girlfriends to move in. He’s glad you decided not to. He’s so fucking happy to be here, with you, feeling at home in your flat. He’s so ridiculously happy that you’ve made room for him in your home.

Alex is surprised he isn’t shitting rainbows and unicorns with how in love he is with you. It’s a fact he never fails to mention. The words making their way out of his lips with ease. Love you babe, when you get up in the morning, nothing more than a mumble, Alex still half asleep.

He makes the effort to not get lost in his music when you get home, How was work? I love you. Come over here, let me show you what I’ve been working on. Tell me if I’m a total knob?

Alex learns the brand of oat milk you love in your coffee. Knows that you like having the windows open all day to let the air in. His clothes gradually take over the left two drawers of your dresser. Pomade and hair gel besides your cleanser and moisturizer.

I love you. Lets go to the park, you can bitch about what utter twats your customers are there.

You drag him to the fabric store, already hunting for curtains for the house you’re buying, and he watches you geek out as you run your fingers over the different materials, not even having to check the fabric composition to guess what’s 60 percent cotton and polyester and which tweed is 100% wool.

Alex drags you out to the pub friday night. Sam sometimes tags along with her roommate or latest boyfriend. He spends most of saturday morning in bed with you, making love to you all afternoon, his name the only thing on your lips.

He’s brushed his teeth, about to head into the bedroom, when his phone rings. The screen flashing. Caller ID is the mermaid emoji.

When he and Arielle had been dating, she’d always be changing the photo that came up when she called. The first time she’d flown out for one of his shows. A picture of him kissing her cheek as they drove out to palm springs for a few days. Arielle’s goofy bathroom selfies.

Then one day, the day she’d sat him down and he’d abruptly realized her things had been packed up from his house. Her kitchen mixer gone from his kitchen. The selfhelp and cookbooks gone from the bookcase. All the little traces that had made his house her home cleaned up. Arielle had sat him down and said, “we need to talk,” in the serious tone that he knew was code for I’m breaking up with you.

She’d beaten him to the punch line.

Alex had thought it would be rude of him to break up with her during tour. And then he’d gotten home and imagined. . .he doesn’t know why he’d dragged it out. Was it because he’d loved her? Had still been more than a little in love with her but not oblivious to the fact that their relationship had run its course. Was winding down a slow death because she wanted things he wasn’t prepared to give her. Marriage, kids, a white picket fence house.

She’d even asked, “ are you planning on ever marrying me Alex, because I need to know right now if it’ll happen for us.”

He’d sat there, looking through the window instead of at her.

“I know what I want,” she’d told him frankly, with tears in her eyes. “ Do you?”

Alex had shaken his head, “ I dunno if I’m the marrying sort.” And then she’d gotten up and left without a glance back.

Alex waits to feel that familiar lump of emotion form in his throat. He’d lost more than a girlfriend in that breakup. Arielle had been his friend before that. And now she was neither.

When it doesn form, when he realizes he doesn’t feel anything other than a hint of nostalgia and sleepiness, Alex answers his phone. “ ‘ello?”

“Alex,” Arielle asks, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t sure you’d be up right now?” Or that you’d even answer, she doesn’t say.

“Yeah, about to turn in.”

She laughs instead of being all apologetic. “Of course. Still a total night owl I see.”

“Arielle,” he sighs, “why are you calling me?”

It’s her turn to sigh. “I was just going over my rsvp list and. . .you haven’t replied. I just. . .I was just wondering if you’d be coming next month.” To her wedding.

Alex doesn’t particularly care anymore. No that’s not true. When he’d first heard she was getting married, not even a year after they’d split, he’d been hurt. Alex had wondered if he’d made a mistake. If he should've married her after all.

The fact that he didn’t want to was nothing compared to the loneliness he felt at not having found. . .at being alone. Arielle had moved on. Matt was married. Jaime and Nick had settled down as well. What was wrong with Alex that no one wanted him like that? Or was there something wrong with him for not wanting that with anyone?

Now he just felt weird at the thought of going to her wedding. They hadn’t talked in ages.

“No,” he manages, his tone sounding harsh to his own ears. Alex rushes to add, “I’m going to be busy but congratulations in advanced Arielle, ya deserve it.”

Arielle snorts. “Thanks. I just. . .I was really hoping you’d come. Actually. . .I was hoping we could try to be friends again. I know if I leave the ball in your court you’ll never . . .Alex you were one of my closest friends. I don’t want to lose you completely. And it’s been some time. . .I was just hoping we could try to be friends again. Now that I-we’ve moved on.”

Alex swallows thickly. He remembers all the times he’d texted Arielle over the years: good luck on her auditions, she’ll get them next time, asking her to hang out when he was in LA. The nights they’d all ended up eating mcdonalds at four in the morning, Arielle making him laugh so hard he’d shed tears.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

Alex has moved on. He’s itching to go to bed. Yearning for the warmth of your body against him. Already thinking of what to make for dinner later, breakfast for him. Alex suspects he’s going to have to go on a grocery run. There’s only some stale toast and a couple beers in the fridge.

And next month you’ll start moving.

And he’ll be moving in with you.

Bloody hell, he’s such a goner. Alex had fallen in love with you without meaning too. Without even realizing it.

“You’re right Arielle,” Alex tells her. “We have moved on and we should. . .I’d like to try and be friends with you again.”

“So you’ll come?”

“No. I really am busy. My girlfriend’s moving next month and I’m moving in with her.”

“Wow,” Arielle laughs, “such a modern man.”

Alex chuckles.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well,” she adds.

He glances over at the closed bedroom door where he knows you’re asleep. How could he not be well, he’s in love. Alex doesn’t care for a piece of paper uniting two people. And you haven’t brought up marriage, if you’ve planned out your perfect wedding. . .if you dream of it at all. But if you do, Alex thinks he’d be down on one knee in a second.

“Right back at you,” he tells Arielle. “Now if ya don’t mind, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

Arielle laughs, “Al it’s morning in London.”

“Let me know when you’re in London.”

“Only if you tell me when you’re in LA.”

She hangs up, and Alex makes a note to send her a wedding gift. And start texting her again.

He’s careful not to make too much noise as he slips into the bedroom, not wanting to wake you up. Alex lays down on his side of the bed, unsurprised to find you asleep in the middle of the bed. He wraps his arms around your sleeping form, and goes to sleep.

[epochofbelief]

can you write a fluffly feysand?

I know it’s been weeks but i NEVER forgot about this;)

--------

“I think I’m dying.”

Standing in the kitchen, I sighed as Rhys spoke up yet again from the nest of blankets he had made on my living room couch. His voice was nasally because of his congestion. Until about ten minutes ago, I had thought him dead asleep. But instead of sleeping off the terrible case of a cold he had, he’d apparently decided that a thirty minute nap was enough for him and had chosen to irritate me instead.

“You poor thing. I feel so sorry for you,” I called as I stirred the soup currently heating up on my stovetop.

“Feyreeeeeeee.”

I sighed, ignoring him. His soup would be ready in a few moments. I really did feel bad for him. But when Rhys was sick--wow he loved attention. He wanted me to take care of him, which I would. However, when he’d shown up at my place this morning -- Saturday morning!-- I had been in bed, prepared to sleep for four more hours. I had been both simultaneously touched that he wanted me to take care of him and at a loss for what to do. It was just a cold, after all.

I took the soup off the stove, poured it into an enormous bowl, grabbed a spoon and some napkins and made my way over to the couch.

“Is that soup I smell?”

“Yes it is, Your Highness.”

Rhys groaned. “I’m sorry I showed up relatively unannounced. But Cassian and Azriel are on this big fitness kick, and they’ve been up since five this morning lifting weights in our living room. Blasting rock music. I couldn’t take it.”

Oh. Well that made me feel better, considering Rhys and I had only been dating for a month. I didn’t know we were quite at that stage of whiling away ‘deadly illnesses’ (as Rhys had referred to his cold) with each other.

My heart softened. He really did look quite terrible, and if his roommates were working out so early, I was glad he’d thought to come here. I said as much, and he smiled.

I couldn’t believe that smile was finally for me! I’d been watching him at work for months, awed by his attraction and dedication to his job. We both taught at the local high school. I taught art and Rhys taught eleventh and twelfth grade advanced English. I’d seen Rhys speaking to students in the hall-he was there to help tutor them, provide supplementary materials, even give the rare few emotional support when they really needed it. It was that kindness that had drawn me to him. When Rhys had started his job at the high school three months ago, I’d still been dating Tamlin. After we’d broken up, I’d sort of developed a crush on Rhys. A big crush.

When he’d asked me out by chance a month ago, I couldn’t believe how lucky I’d gotten.

And now he was here. In my house. With a cold. So at odds with the attractive English teacher I hadn’t thought I’d stand a chance.

I liked this version of him even better.

“Soup!” He shouted when I rounded the corner to sit next to him on the couch. He stretched his arms out like a four-year-old, gesturing eagerly for the ceramic bold.

“Ah, ah, ah. If you’re so weak, you might need some help,” I said. I scooped a spoonful and brought it towards his mouth. Slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, he closed his lips around the spoon.

I forgot about how sick he was for a second.

“Wow, that’s good,” he said.

I shrugged, forcing my hands to remain steady, even when I couldn’t help noticing how attractive he was, even when sick. “It’s just from a can.”

“Anything you make, I’m pretty sure I’d love.”

I gave him the bowl and he placed it on the coffee table right in front of him. “Eat that. What are we watching?” I asked.

As I reached for the remote, Rhys let out an enormous sneeze.

“AAAHHHHCHOOOO!” He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, shit,” he added, the words muffled.

“This is why you use tissues,” I said, cringing away from him as he reached for the tissue box behind him.

“There wasn’t time,” he said.

“We have not been dating long enough for me to be seeing this right now.”

He wiped his nose. “I think we’ve been dating the perfect amount of time. In fact, each day just gets more--” He sneezed again, thankfully into a tissue this time. “Dammit, that was supposed to be really romantic,” he said when he had cleaned himself up again. “Let me try again. Each day with you gets more and more perfect, Feyre.”

I just looked at him, not sure what to say. His words had sent a rush of warmth from the pit of my stomach to the center of my chest.

I cocked my right eyebrow. “And what if I get sick tomorrow and show up on your doorstep unannounced, snotty and congested, behaving even more like a drama queen than you are now?”

“Hey!” He scowled at my words but it did nothing to mask the sudden light behind his eyes. “Even then, Feyre, that day would top this one. Especially if a miracle occurs and I actually make a recovery from this plague.”

“You’re so dramatic. Do your students see this side of you?”

“I’m an English teacher. Of course they do.”

I scooted closer to him on the couch and he drew a blanket across both our legs. “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch my disease and die?” Rhys asked quietly, his arm coming to rest across my shoulders. I rested my head in the hollow between his shoulder and his chest.

“I think it’s worth the risk.”

We spent the entire day on the couch, ignoring the stacks of papers/artwork we needed to grade, watching all six discs of The Lord of the Rings. I couldn’t help thinking that I wanted this to last for a long, long time.

[kim-seungmine]

love you right

title: love you right

characters : reader x seo changbin of stray kids (ft. yang jeongin)

genres: angst, i wouldn’t call this fluff but this is sweet, soulmate au, roommate au, filmmaker!changbin.

synopsis: have you ever wondered whether your soulmate would still love you if you weren’t destined to be together? because in a world where everyone has someone who’s meant for them, what matters isn’t finding them, but what happens next.

warnings: cursing 

word count: 6969

a/n: I FINALLY finished this! It turned out to be shorter than my expectation but i think it’s still okay. After 1000 words or so I just realized that Changbin’s “If” probably inspired me. like i said before, i’m pretty sure i broke like 10 rules of soulmate au so please forgive me. 

The sound of shutters is accompanied by the audience’s cheers. You take a glance at the television, watching the artist in spotlight bow deeply. You feel Jeongin’s eyes on you before averting your gaze back to the customer in front of you. “Here’s the change. Thank you for coming!” you exclaim, seeing Jeongin frantically looking for the TV remote from your peripheral vision.

“We’ve been waiting for this one since last year, and he’s finally back with a full album. Let’s welcome, Bang Chan!”

“First of all, Chan, congratulations on your wedding!” the MC chirps and Chan blushes. “We were all shocked when you told everyone you’re married last week. Mind to share how you met your soulmate?”

Jeongin is mouthing profanities now, opening the drawers as quiet as possible. You, meanwhile, are glued to the screen. “I’d rather not talk about this at a public event, so I’ll keep this brief. I met my soulmate during a party, and then the timer on my wrist stopped. That’s when I knew,” he shares.

“Go to hell,” Jeongin spites as he finally finds the remote and shuts the television off. “Don’t watch this shit.”

“It’s okay. It’s how things are supposed to be,” you respond flatly. Your best friend points at your fingers, which are balled into fists without you realizing. “I’m fine!” you convince him. “In fact, I’m glad I don’t have to see that goddamn timer ticking anymore. And going on dates in secret was such a pain in the ass.”

Throughout your 1-year relationship with Chan, you never felt at ease. Movies and novels always make having soulmates seem like something beautiful, but in fact, it’s a headache. Everyone in the whole world has different soulmate things. Some are color blind until they meet their soulmate, some has timers like Chan’s and some others have the first words their soulmates say to them inked on their arms. It can take someone years before they find their special one, and when they do, they’re willing to do anything to be with that person.

Technically, it wasn’t Chan fault that he left you for his soulmate, but everytime you recall the time he broke up with you, your blood boils.

All the beautiful memories, all the struggles you had overcome… everything meant nothing.

“Changbin’s coming in a minute,” Jeongin informs. “Have you thought about it yet?”

When you asked Jeongin to find you a quiet and responsible roommate, you didn’t mean Seo Changbin. It’s not that you two don’t get along, but Changbin has a tendency to be very snarky towards you and it’s kind of annoying (and intimidating, but you will never admit that). College and part-time job have made you tired enough, you don’t need to deal with a scowling Changbin and his sharp mouth when you get home. What surprises you more, however, is the fact that the boy approves of you.

“Don’t think too much,” Jeongin says as he wipes the counter table. “You want a quiet and responsible roommate, plus you don’t have to pay as much as you do now. Changbin fulfills both of your conditions, what else could you ask for?”

You put the last cheesecake inside the display counter, loving how fluffy and cheesy it looks. It also happens Changbin’s favorite menu, though he doesn’t strike you as someone who would love cheesecake. Great, out of all things, that’s what you remember about him? “What are Changbin’s conditions then?”

Someone enters the café, ending your conversation with Jeongin who quickly dashes back to his station, but not before whispering, “He just wants you.”

“Jeongin-ah I’m hungry!”

There’s still an hour before closing time, but all the customers have left and now there’s only Changbin on the table near the window, brainstorming for his screenplay. You heave a sigh and takes out a plate from the drawer. You’re the barista for today, why does he pretend like you don’t exist?

You put the plate on the table and ring the bell, causing Changbin to look up from his notebook. “Oh, it’s you, Y/N.” He gets up from his seat, approaching the counter while opening his wallet. “What do you want to eat?”

Changbin examines the display counter, frowning as he browses through the available menus. You notice him panicking a bit as he scans the second row. “I’ll take—”

“It’s okay,” you mutter. “Take your time. I won’t rush you.”

He slowly nods, continuing to read the cakes’ labels one by one before settling on his favorite menu.

“Are you sure you want me as your roommate?” you ask, putting the last slice of cheesecake on the plate. Changbin looks almost flustered, and you feel a bit proud of yourself. He always seems to be very in control of every aspect of his life, so seeing him a bit taken aback because of you feels satisfying.

Changbin starts slicing his cake, not bothering to return to his table. “I mean, why not?” he says. “I know you already and if Jeongin decides that you’re not crazy, then I believe him.”

“You feel that you know… me?”

He shrugs, lifting his eyebrows at the younger boy as the latter comes out from the pantry. “You’re Jeongin’s best friend, an English major, and he said you’re never late for anything—especially rent.”

“You hate morning shifts!” Jeongin shouts.

“You ranked first in your batch, right?” Changbin continues.

“Y/N hates bananas.”

“You love pizza—wait what you hate bananas?”

“I don’t hate them but bananas are definitely my least favorite.”

“Whoa that’s amazing.”

Changbin goes on to list everything he knows about you with Jeongin’s help, sometimes correcting each other although you’re still with them. You get to see Seo Changbin giggling for the first time, and maybe you want to see it more often.

“When are you going to move in?” he asks after helping Jeongin clean the tables. He’s back to the cool, almost cold Changbin, but you tell yourself to take the risk.

“How about this weekend?”

“Awesome.”

You plop yourself onto your bed, staring at the ceiling of your room that used to be Jeongin’s. It’s Saturday, but all you can think about is your reading assignment and other tasks. Changbin knocks on the slightly ajar door, carefully peeking inside.

“I ordered dinner,” he informs. “It’ll be here soon.”

It’s only been a few hours, but so far Changbin is much better than your old roommate. He helped you unpack quietly (he did make some hurtful comments about your dreamcatcher collection, but you could handle it), gave a space for your cactuses in the living room, and let you decide the menu for dinner.

The bell rings soon after, and now both of you are enjoying a pot of kimchi jjigae. “Are you sad that Jeongin’s not here anymore?” you attempt to start a conversation. Changbin snorts, glancing around the flat. “I’m glad he’s not here anymore,” he answers in a fake mocking tone. “He always wakes me up too early.”

You nod, remembering the painful memory that is your school retreat back in fifth grade. Jeongin was the dorm leader and he forced everyone to sleep early only to wake all of you an hour earlier. “I hope his soulmate will be able to live with that,” you laugh.

Changbin’s ears perk up at the word soulmate, clearing his throat as you look at him in confusion. “You’re still here,” you point out. “I figure you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, slurping his soup in one go. Love is probably too lame for Changbin, and while you’re never really obsessed in finding your true love yourself, his response makes you feel like someone pricks your heart with a needle. “Never really tried looking for them, to be honest. How about you?”

“You mean, do I want to find my soulmate?

Changbin places his bowl back to the table, his lips a bit red due to the spicy soup, and you almost want to laugh. “The idea of having a soulmate is beautiful, I suppose,” you answer. “But I’m fine with the way things are now, it’s not like I’m desperate or something. We’re still young anyways.”

“Do you believe in it? That there’s someone in this world who’s specially meant for you and only you?”

His question intrigue your interest; you’ve never met someone who’s doubting the concept of soulmates. But then again, this is Changbin. He’s the only person you know who has never asked about your soulmate bond. “Well, people do meet their soulmates, don’t they? I guess I’ve never had a chance to doubt it, because it’s there. People have soulmates, it happens.”

“There’s one thing that’s been bothering me for quite a while, though,” you add. Changbin sits up straighter at your statement, and suddenly you wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him. You never share this with anyone—not even Jeongin—because you don’t want to be such a killjoy. Besides, you know how their reaction will be: they’ll think you’re a pathetic pessimist who probably will never meet your soulmate.

“You can trust me.” His voice sounds light, but the weight in his words feel real. Changbin flashes you one of his rare smiles (you’re pretty sure you saw it on his birthday last year) and you gain a surge of confidence.

“Do couples simply love each other because they’re soulmates?” Your voice is almost a whisper, but Changbin raises his eyebrow, encouraging you to continue. “Having opinion is not a crime, Y/N. What are you so afraid for?” he deadpans, but his gaze remains warm and it kind of messes with your whole system.

“I mean, a lot of us date other people before meeting our soulmates,” you continue. “It’s like, you have feelings for one person, but all of those feelings vanish just like that when you meet your soulmates. How is that possible? Are you being with your soulmate because you love them? Or do you love them simply because they’re your soulmate?”

You’re met with silence as Changbin only stares at you in… awe? That’s probably not it but you swear to God his eyes twinkle, boring into yours and making you blush due to the intensity. You almost feel disappointed when he tears his eyes away from you before gathering the empty plates.

“Let me wash the dishes tonight. This is your housewarming gift,” he mumbles, heading to the sink. You watch his back in silence, slowly falling asleep to the sound of his humming and the water. As you’re about to close your eyes, he looks over his shoulder.

“What’s your soulmate thing?” he asks.

“Soulmate thing?”

“Shit, I forgot the term—the one sign that makes you realize that you’ve met your soulmate.”

You give him a sleepy smile, closing your eyes when he starts humming again. Gotta ask what that song is later.

“Once my soulmate tells me they love me, I’ll stop having nightmares.”

You want to ask Changbin what his soulmate bond is, but sleep has taken over you before you can voice it out.

What Seo Changbin knows about the world is the fact that nothing is certain. Sure, the Sun rises in the East and the Earth is round, but what about the other things? The human beings? He’s seen so many people walked out of his life, he’s witnessed the most hurtful lies and changes.

Changbin has seen enough to know that trust is overrated. You can’t trust anyone, not even your loyal pet. What happened last night, though, was beyond his imagination. Him telling you that you could trust him?

He was so close to take back what he said, but seeing the tiny sparks of hope and confidence in your eyes made his heart do somersaults. God, if only you knew how much power you have over him…

“It’s barely 10AM and you’re already being productive.” Your voice greets him, snapping him out of his daydream. “What are you working on?” you ask, pouring fresh milk into your glass. Changbin collects all his papers as you sit beside him.

“Sorry for all the mess,” he apologizes. “Jeongin and I never used this table so I always work here.”

You shake your head, glancing at his laptop screen before suddenly pulling away, as if you just did something inappropriate. “No, it’s okay, you can see,” he quickly says, sliding his laptop to you. Changbin suddenly recalls all the moments he shoved Jeongin away because he hates it when people read his stuff before it’s finished.

You’ve been here for less than 2 days but he’s already breaking so many of his own rules.

“Yeah. My graduation project. My ride or die.”

Changbin is lost in his own world after that. You’re still sitting there, debating with yourself if you should stay. Roommate-Changbin may still intimidate you, but Director-Changbin only excites you. You want to know what’s on his mind, how he pours his questions and views about the world into his films.

You don’t notice that he’s stopped typing and is now watching you. “Y/N? You’re still here?”

“O-oh!” you yelp, instantly regretting the shock in your voice. “I’m just wondering…” you trail off.

“Yeah?” Changbin waits for you patiently, holding your gaze.

“Can I watch you work? I promise I’ll stay quiet.”

“I started writing this 3 years ago,” Changbin shares. “Somehow I could never writing the perfect ending, nothing felt right. I thought maybe I should use this as my graduation project.” He laughs, “So I could force myself to end the story.”

“What is it about?”

Changbin doesn’t answer you right away, staring at his laptop screen instead. He thinks long and hard—something he does often that infuriates Jeongin, but you’ve come to appreciate it. “Loneliness. Cliché, I know, and that’s why I’ve been struggling.”

He stops to take another sip of his coffee. “About whether it’s better to just be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s cliché,” you reply. “It’s something everyone has to deal with for the rest of their lives. It’s familiar. Important.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t know how to end it!”

“Then just say so.”

Changbin shakes his head before deleting a whole paragraph he previously typed. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be. People want answers.”

That shuts you up. You may be an English major, but this is Changbin’s field. And it’s his work, not yours. “Sorry. I crossed the line, didn’t I?”

“Nonono, you’re right,” he mutters. “Maybe I should try.”

“No, Changbin, this is just my opinion. You don’t need to—“

“And do you want to be the main character? I think you understand the material well, and this role suits you.”

Rejection is already on the tip of your tongue, but the way Changbin’s eyes twinkle is clouding your brain. He continues to stare at you as you’re debating with yourself, and when you meet his eyes, you melt. The cool, almost cold Seo Changbin is asking you for a favor, and while you’re not obligated to fulfill his wishes just because he’s suddenly nice to you… you want to.

He yells when you finally give him a firm nod, averting his eyes back to his laptop. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with everything. I’ll finish this soon, okay?”

Once again you can only nod, admiring the small smile on his lips.

“You agreed to what?!” Jeongin shouts, resulting in you smacking his lips with your hand. “Shut the hell up we’re in the library!” you hissed as you bow in apology to all the people sending you death glares.

“Just man up and admit that you’re so whipped for Seo Changbin!” Jeongin has closed his book and is now trying to close yours as well. ���Come on, tell me the details! All the embarrassing cheesy details!” he pesters.

The librarian has cleared her throat thrice in the past 5 minutes and you’re sure that means you’re going to get kicked out soon. You sigh at Jeongin, who takes this as a sign that you want to leave. He gladly put all your things back into your bag, dragging you out of the library with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

You don’t know if you like Changbin. Maybe you do, but maybe you’re just missing the feeling of having someone. “I don’t know,” you mumble, sitting on the bench across the library. “Everytime I think about Chan I still want to cry, I still want to curse the hell out of him for ending things a day after he told me that he loved me.”

“Maybe things are going to be different this time,” Jeongin tells you. “Try to see him as Seo Changbin, not as the next Bang Chan.”

“Once you do, you’ll be able to see Changbin clearly.”

Everything has started to feel lighter.

You never remember your nightmares anymore even though you’re well aware that you still get them. And you have someone to go home with after your classes or your shift at the café now that you live with Changbin. Jeongin never shuts up about it, constantly pointing out that Changbin likes you better than him because he’s always with you.

And tonight is no exception.

“Hyung, why are you still here?” he asks, pretending to be curious.

“I’m working, leave me alone,” the older boy says flatly, not even glancing up from his laptop.

“Oh Y/N you’re done?!”Jeongin exclaims.

Changbin quickly closes his laptop, searching for you before he realizes that his friend is messing around with him. Jeongin laughs hard, patting Changbin’s shoulder as he dashes to you. “Finish up quickly, your boyfriend is waiting for you!”

“You’re such a dumbass,” you retort, wiping the counter one last time. You glance at Changbin who’s now looking at you, his lips curling into a soft smile when your eyes meet. Sometimes you really think that he’s into you, and you can never get used to that.

“I’m done anyways,” you inform. Jeongin’s phone buzzes, his face lights up as the name of his soulmate rolls out of his lips. He gives both of you a quick wave and leaves as you lock the door. You chuckle at the sight of Jeongin running to the bus stop. “He’s so in love.”

“He smiles all the time now it’s scary,” Changbin adds.

“Well I guess that’s the magic of being with someone you love.” you mumble. “And being with someone who loves you.”

Changbin’s breath hitches at your statement, causing you to eye him. “What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he answers. “Have you ever wondered where your soulmate is?”

No matter how much Changbin has changed around you, hearing him talk about soulmates is still one of the weirdest things ever. You two can talk about anything, except this. The whole soulmate talk always reminds you that he’s not yours, that whatever you have now will end when he finds his soulmate or when you find yours.

“Of course. Especially because of the nightmares,” you admit. “But then I realized that I was looking for my soulmate with the wrong purpose. I mean, you shouldn’t want to find your soulmate just because you want your problems solved, right?”

“Are you still talking to Bang Chan?”

Besides Jeongin and Changbin, no one else knows about you and Chan. When you just started dating, Jeongin asked so many things about him, but Changbin never said anything. Not even a congratulation.

“How do you know that we broke up?”

You wince as soon as that question rolls out of your mouth. “Fuck. Of course you do. He got married.”

“Sorry,” he sighs. “Forget it.”

“No, it’s fine,” you interject. “Why did you ask?”

“I saw him picking you up at campus once. It was already super late,” Changbin reveals. “He was dressed in all black—with mask, cap and all that… celebrities-in-disguise attire.” You chuckle at his choice of words, causing his cheeks to slowly turn pinkish.

“You could barely did anything freely, yet you looked happy Y/N,” he continues. There’s a long silence afterwards as because you can’t figure out whether he could possibly mean. With each day you spend together, you feel his wall crumbling. You love it so much that you’re afraid one small mistake will destroy everything.

Changbin takes a deep breath, biting his lip as you finally have enough courage to look into his eyes. “What can I do to make you smile like that?” His whisper is soft but determined. Genuine.

Right in this moment, something in your heart clicks. Seo Changbin has you under his spell, enticing you with his words, his action, his heart.

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” you blurt out.

“Excuse me?!”

“Not like that,” you laugh. “Just stay until I’m asleep. Maybe the nightmares will be less scary.”

They won’t, but you’re not planning to tell him that.

You just want to see him as you fall asleep.

“Don’t you want to sit here?” you offer, patting the empty space beside you. Changbin smiles from his spot on the floor, right beside the bedside table. “I want you to sleep well Y/N. The two of us won’t fit in there,” he politely rejects although his brain is screaming at him to take the offer. There’s nothing he wants more than wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tight all night, whispering pretty words in your ear all night long so you will see rainbows in your dream, but maybe he still needs to wait.

Or he can just say that he loves you now.

“Good night, Changbin. Thank you for doing this.”

“Anything for you.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m not taking it back, though,” he singsongs. “Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You grin, wrapping yourself with your blanket. “I’ll try.”

A few hours later, you wake up with a jolt, panting hard as the horror of the nightmare you just had leaving you. After downing a glass of water on the bedside table, you try to recall what you dreamed of. It’s strange, you think to yourself. Back then, one nightmare could haunt you for weeks, but now you forget everything as soon as you wake up.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Changbin rushes to you, cupping your cheeks to examine your face. “Ch-Changbin,” you mumble, eyes widening as you realize how comforting his touch is. It makes you feel like you’re floating, before landing on fluffy clouds. You feel lightheaded, and the way he looks at you doesn’t help at all.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he panics. Changbin circles his arms around your shoulders when you nod. You’ve never had a sweet dream, let alone dreaming of Changbin, but if this is a dream then you don’t want to wake up. Ever.

He envelops your entire body with his arms as he presses feathery kisses on your exposed shoulder. “I hate seeing you like this,” he says again. From the tone of his voice, you know that he’s frowning. “What’s going on, Changbin?”

Changbin pulls back, eyes holding your gaze like you’re the one he longs to see. “I love you,” he states.

You prompt yourself to wake up before this dream overtakes your reality, but everything stays the same and now Changbin intertwines your fingers with his.

“Are you sure?” you croak, gripping his fingers.

Changbin dips his head to press his lips onto yours, pulling you into his embrace as he pours all the love and adoration he has for you into the kiss. He kisses you slowly but firmly, nibbling your bottom lip when you curl your arms around his neck. Changbin chases your lips when you pull away, whining when you stop him from placing another searing kiss on your lips.

“I need to tell you something first,” you mutter, lips trembling. “Once I decide to love I don’t hold back, Changbin. I don’t hesitate, and honestly I don’t know if I’ll be ready to hit the brake when we reach the dead end because it’s you and—”

Changbin cradles your cheeks in his hands again, shaking his head as he peppers passionate kisses all over your face. “Please don’t hold back,” he says, almost begging. “Love me. Love me however you want to, okay? Because I don’t want to hold back either. You mean everything to me.”

You’ve got to be dreaming, you must be. Your feelings for Changbin are too strong that for once, you’re having a sweet dream. The sweetest dream. Universe is giving you a chance to live your wishes and in the midst of ghosts, murders, airplane crashes and death. Seo Changbin is here and says that you’ll be able to bask in the warmth of his skin and the fiery touch of his fingers whenever you want to.

But his grip on your waist feels too real and the loving gaze in his eyes feels too hard to resist. “You’re not dreaming,” he tells you, reading your mind and crushing your doubts.

“Can I stay here? Please? I want to hold you,” he asks, almost begging. You nod, your eyes feel heavy as Changbin kisses your cheek.

“What happened to Mr. Oh-Y/N-we-won’t-fit-in-there?” you tease, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his shy laugh being the last thing you hear before falling into deep slumber.

It’s been 10 minutes since you woke up, and you don’t understand what’s happening. Changbin is still sleeping beside you, his arm curling around your waist loosely. Waking up next to him is something you’ll need to get used to, but there’s another thing that makes you wide awake at 6AM.

You stopped having nightmares.

Carefully, you remove Changbin’s arm from your waist before shaking his shoulder. “Changbin,” you call out, smile dancing on your lips as he blinks. “Hmmmm,” he hums. “Good morning, babe.”

You try to ignore your burning cheeks and pulls him up instead. “I didn’t have any nightmare,” you announce as he sits up, his hair sticking out in various directions. “Changbin, I’m serious,” you demand when he fails to respond. “What’s your soulmate bond? Is it just me or are we really… soulmates?”

There’s a tension in the air before Changbin starts sniffling. You quickly climb into his lap, taking him into your arms as he starts sobbing and mouthing words you can’t make out. “Hey, what’s wrong?” you question.

“My soulmate bond is I’ll only be able to cry after touching my soulmate,” he says, smiling softly when your hand comes into contact with his cheeks, wiping his tears. You start to tear up as well; everything must have been suffocating for him. He had to bottle up all his feelings inside, not having the privilege to let everything out while it’s easy for everybody else.

“I can call you a crybaby now, huh?” you joke, pressing kisses on the top of his head.

Changbin nips your collarbone in return, your heart soars when you feel him smile against your skin. “You can dream of me every night now, huh?”

You never have any nightmare again, but nothing beats waking up in Changbin’s embrace and knowing that you don’t have to say goodbye to him.

Beaches are scary at night and the chilly weather only makes it worse. You watch Changbin walking around to thank his crew one by one, including Jeongin whom you dragged out of his flat at 2AM to become a replacement for Changbin’s boom operator that bowed out last minute. Your best friend waves you goodbye from afar, his red hair is the only thing you can see.

The beach is now empty, leaving only you and Changbin as the wind gets harsher. “You did well,” he praises, intertwining your hands together. “I only did this for you,” you answer. “After today I realized acting is not my thing.”

He bows at you. “I feel honored.”

You laugh; after everything that’s happened it’s still somehow satisfying to see him say sweet things to you. The cool, almost cold Changbin is long gone—now he’s your Binnie Binnie Changbinnie who whines when you leave bed too early or come home too late.

“Y/NNNNNN.” And here he goes again.

“What?”

“Why won’t you ever tie your shoelaces properly? I taught you the double knot before!”

You give him a playful “tsk,” sitting down on the soft sand to do the double knot exactly the way he showed you. Changbin watches you with amusement, guiding your fingers everytime you make a wrong loop. “Sometimes I wonder how we would find out we’re soulmates if I didn’t tell you my soulmate bond,” you murmur.

“I would’ve told you that I love you any other way. It doesn’t matter,” he responds. “I only wish I said it sooner.”

“Did you mean it?”

“That I love you? Of course, why would you think otherwise?”

You shrug. “I don’t know how this works. Do you just have to say it? Or do you have to really mean it?”

“Haven’t those before me told you that they loved you?”

“Those? There were only 2 before you,” you share. “And yes, they told me that. Nothing happened.”

Changbin closes the gap between you, gripping your waist a bit tighter than usual and pressing his lips on yours a bit harder. You bite your bottom lip after he releases you, causing him to frown. “I love you,” he says, tugging your lip with his thumb before replacing it with his lips once again. Both of you are gasping for air when he pulls away, but this time you smile at him.

“I mean it,” Changbin tells you firmly. “Don’t ever question that. Now let’s get you home, you’re freezing.”

“Have you asked your uncle if we can stay in his place?”

You and Changbin are cuddled up in bed, planning your upcoming trip to Daegu to celebrate your birthday. “I forgot!” you gasp, noting it down on Changbin’s favorite notebook. You flip the page to write some other things, but the page isn’t empty. The whole page is full of Changbin’s notes—messy and confusing.

Aug 11 – I cried (around 10PM)

Aug 12 – Should I tell Y/N?

Oct 2 – Y/N moved in

Oct 30 – I’m not sure… a good listener, makes me laugh…

Nov 4 – asked about soulmates. asked about my movies à amazing answers.

Jan 10 – i love them….?

Feb 11 – tell Y/N you love them (what will happen…?)

“Changbin what the hell is this?”

Changbin looks up from his phone, resting his head on your shoulder to see what you’re reading. His face hardens the moment he realizes what you’ve discovered. He snatches the notebook away and rips that certain page, throwing it into the trashcan.

“Answer me, Changbin. What did I just read?”

“I swear to God it means nothing, okay?”

You really hate this conversation. It sounds like the typical romance movie where your lover insists that everything’s fine when it isn’t. You don’t want to end up questioning Changbin for the rest of your life, but you love him too much to let him go.

“You knew right from the start that I’m your soulmate.”

He reaches for your hand, and at times like this you hate how much he affects you. “You’re right. I knew.”

“And then you decided to test me,” you reply. “For what? So you could judge if I deserved your love? If I deserved you?”

“I didn’t test you!” he half-yells. You remove your hand from his and stands up. Your eyes meet your photos together he’s pinned to his wall, the most recent one is from yesterday. Changbin smiles in every single photo, arms wrapped around your shoulders or your waist. Seeing the little corner he dedicates for both of you always warms your heart, but now you’re not sure about anything anymore.

Changbin follows your gaze, smiling fondly at the memories before darting his eyes back to you. “I didn’t mean to test you. I just wanted to know if soulmates are real—if there’s really one person in this big, big world that’s meant for me.”

“But I just realized that to you, that was a test.”

“There’s a line between getting to know each other and testing each other, Changbin. The fact that you purposely hid this from me then asked me to be your roommate so you’d be able to ‘grade’ me… that shit hurts,” you admit.

You sigh when Changbin doesn’t respond, turning around to return to your own room. “What happens when someone separates from their soulmate?” you ask softly, turning the door knob.

“I won’t be happy ever again Y/N,” he rasps. “You know that.”

Changbin trails behind you as you’re walking back to your room. He grabs your hand when you’re about to close the door. “You can’t expect me to be okay, Changbin,” you state. “I want to be alone.”

“I know,” he answers. “But—”

“Good night.”

You sleep well without any problem now, but tonight is the worst night you’ve ever had in your entire life. There’s no nightmare, only reality.

Changbin didn’t mean to lie.

He had a quite difficult past due to his inability to express his feelings well. His parents had tried everything: meditation, medication, therapy… you name it, but nothing cured him. He was longing for that one release and spent his whole life trying to channel his anger and frustration into something that didn’t scream scary to no avail.

Filmmaking helped him, but not enough. His parents bought him his own place when he was 15 because they were—in his brother’s words—“are tired of your shit”  and his brother stopped talking to him the moment he moved out. In the end, Changbin gave up. He shut everybody out, never tried giving anybody his time of the day because he knew how everything would turn out.

He decided to rent a new place after high school and got Jeongin as his roommate. Jeongin brought him to you, and then everything changed. Changbin didn’t care whether he would finally be able to cry or not—he just wanted to be with you.

Somehow, along the way, he screwed everything up. As usual.

He scrambles to get up when he hears the door opens, hoping it will be you.

“What the fuck happened?”

It’s Jeongin, but Changbin is still thankful.

“You know what Y/N has gone through yet you still did that?” Jeongin spites, dropping a box of pizza on the table. “And you lied to me!”

“Sorry.”

Jeongin sighs. “I thought you would treat Y/N better than any other man because you’ve been through the same thing, but you dared to test someone who constantly questions whether it’s possible for them to be loved without the soulmate label? I don’t get it.”

“I know it was a bad idea, but I wanted to be sure, Jeongin. I want—”

“Save it,” Jeongin cuts him off. “Y/N is the one who needs to hear this, not me.”

“Will you forgive me, though?”

Changbin is prepared for a “fuck you” and punch on his face, but Jeongin only walks to the door. “I’m Yang Jeongin. I’m not your parents, I’m not your brother. I’m your best friend,” he prompts.

“And Y/N is your soulmate.”

There’s something different about today. Is it the way the sun shines on your shoes? The way people dress? The way the stray cats in front the café greet you? You’ve made a list of things that may have caused you to feel different, happier, but you can’t find it.

Whatever it is, your list certainly doesn’t include Seo Changbin standing in front of you, casually ordering Americano and cheesecake. You enter his orders in silence as he’s handing you his card. Jeongin is cleaning the display counter, unusually silent although you attempt to make a conversation with him. When he looks up, he gives you a look that screams, “I have nothing to do with this!”

Jeongin puts a cup of hot Americano on the table, smirking when Changbin protests that it’s way too hot. “I ordered a Hot Americano, not So Fucking Hot Americano,” he says sourly. The younger boy shrugs. “You should’ve told me you were coming.”

“Why? So you could—”

“Guys the line is getting long,” you cut them off. Changbin grabs his tray, looking at you with a stare that reminds you of the day he asked you to be in his graduation project. “Can we talk later? I’ll wait,” he asks.

After your shift ends, you’re walking around your neighborhood with Changbin who insists to take you home. You’re able to converse like normal although you expected things to be incredibly awkward between the two of you, especially after that day when you moved out and he just helped you pack your things, no words spoken.

You didn’t say goodbye, but maybe you have a chance to now.

“So when’s the drama going to air?”

Changbin takes a deep breath, counting days with his fingers. “Around next week? I’m nervous as hell. I’ve never been involved in a production this big.”

“What’s the title of the drama again?”

“Arthdal Chronicles! I met Song Joongki, Jang Donggun and Kim Jiwon! How cool is that?” he boasts. Listening to Changbin talk about his projects never fails to bring smile to your lips. At times like this, he only cares about what he loves and sees just that. He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t think too much, he doesn’t control himself.

He glows.

“Hey Y/N.” Changbin grasps your wrist, gaze falling on your untied shoelaces. All the memories of him nagging at you to tie your shoelaces flood your mind and you have to do something, anything, before you fall apart.

You miss Changbin. You miss waking up to his sleeping face in the morning. You miss the way he looks at you when you praise him. You miss his beautiful voice lulling you to sleep. You miss taking him into your embrace whenever he cries, convincing him that he’s free to pour out his feelings now.

You love him—like soulmates do.

Crouching down, you connect the laces together, ready to do the first step. But Changbin stops you, completing the knot swiftly as you stare at him. When he looks up, his eyes are already glazed with tears. “I want you back,” he states.  

His gaze becomes apologetic when he feels your body freeze, but he quickly wraps his hands around yours when you want to run away. “I let my doubts against the world overpower me. I spent so many years looking for answers to convince myself that not everything is bleak, yet I let the darkness consumed me,” Changbin says.

“You’re the warmest, brightest light I’ve ever encountered but I failed to see that. And I’m sorry.”

He pulls you up, wiping your tears you didn’t know you shed. Changbin takes a step closer, cupping your face softly. “Fuck soulmates, I don’t care about that. I’m goddamn lucky that you really are mine, but even if you weren’t, I would still choose you.”

“And I can’t believe there’s a day when I’m gonna be the one saying this, but we can take things slow. As slow as you want.” Changbin gives you a small smile when you finally look him in the eyes. He’s awaken all kinds of feelings inside you, even the ones you didn’t know exist, but there’s only thing you can identify now: yearn.

Changbin lets himself cry when you decide to circle your arms around his neck. “I know this is too much to ask,” he sobs. “But I just want you to know that I want to love you right. I didn’t have a chance to show you that yet, and it’s all my fault.”

You shake your head. “It’s my fault too. I only cared about my fears. I forgot about yours.”

Your soulmate sobs even harder at your answer, only calming down when you start running your hand through his hair. “You’re such a crybaby,” you murmur against his neck as he returns your hug, laughing at your favorite nickname for him.

Enveloped by Changbin’s warmth, you feel something you’ve never felt before. The feeling of being able to love someone without thinking about how things are supposed to be, without hesitation, without limits.

You realize how beautiful it feels to be able to love someone right.

EPILOGUE

“Happy birthday, stupid!” Jeongin yells at Changbin’s face, shoving as sloppily decorated birthday cake into the birthday boy’s hands. Changbin stares at it in mild disgust as you exit the counter, placing a black box wrapped with a white ribbon on the table. “I clearly told Jeongin to just buy you a cake. I’m not claiming that,” you explain. “But what’s done is done. Happy birthday, Changbin!”

You take a step forward to pat his back. A little awkward, but it’s enough to cause Changbin’s insides to flip. You remember his birthday and actually bought him something; he can just cry now.

Wait.

The unfamiliar sensation in his body is almost too overwhelming for him to handle, so he runs to the restroom, leaving you and Jeongin behind. He barely reaches the restroom’s handle when his legs give up. Soon, he’s crying silently, tears keep rolling down his cheeks no matter what he does to stop them.

Crying feels horrible, Changbin thinks, but it also feels wonderful. Liberating.

And he realizes that he’s already fallen in love with you even before he found out that you’re soulmates.

Changbin hates clichés, but he wouldn’t have things any other way. Now he just needs to figure out how to tell you.

yeah, i know i probably made soulmate au lost its magic but honestly those are the questions that i have in my mind everytime i wonder how it’ll be like if the system is real (curse me and my incredible talent to overthink). to everyone who’s finding love out there, you are loved. maybe you haven’t met the right person now, but you will! 

[spiltscribbles]

combo of 7 & 8 for pynch hehe :)

Notes: Thank you so much love!!!  |   Send Me A Prompt 

.-

“It’s the last straw! I’m done! I’m over it!” Blue stabs the spoon into her yogurt, teeth clenched, and knuckles white. Adam, like the good friend he is, just calmly slides it out of her hand and gives her a banana instead.

“She’s not that bad of a roommate,” he tells her with a one armed shrug. The look she shoots him can only be described as the personification of betrayal. Adam can’t believe it’s the third time he’s rolled his eyes at her and it hasn’t hit nine in the morning yet.

“They were naked Adam! Nude! Birthday suits!”

“The biblical state,” Henry tacks on and Blue nods along graciously.

Make it four times before nine in the morning.

“It’s Orla…. She’s eccentric

“It was on the couch! I sit on that couch Adam!” blue hits her hand against the table, fully indignant now.

“I really would recommend having it at the very least steam cleaned before partaking in that activity  again,” Henry advises sagely as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Oh no! No way! I will never sit on that couch another day of my life!”

“Glad to see you’re taking this reasonably,” Adam says, voice blithe, as he brings their cereal bowls to the sink.

“Don’t start with me Adam! You haven’t seen the things I have! The freckles and birthmarks— The hair.” Blue shutters and henry slings an arm around her slim shoulders in comfort, clucking his tongue all the while.

Fifth…. It’s been the fifth time now.

“So how do you reckon you’ll live in there without sitting on the couch ever again?” He needles with a quirked brow, fully having decided to just fall into the dramatics. It’s always easier for him at the end of the day  when just excepting it.

“I’m moving out! Duh.”

“Oo, My Blueberry is becoming her very own American woman!” Henry preens. “Let me get you a chic new outfit Sabrina style!”

“That movie is sexist and culturally appropriates middle eastern garb.” Blue sniffs.

“Good to know that the new Blue has still got all her old spunk.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Adam tells them, lips pinched.

“We bring bursts of color into your otherwise stale existence,” Blue argues loftily.

“Ridiculous,” Adam repeats with feeling.

“Lying doesn’t become you my dear Henrietta Prince,” Henry tells him far too frankly before turning his attention back to Blue. “You know you’ve got a place here if you want it.”

“Where?” Blue snorts. “In your living room?”

“Our couch doesn’t have naked Orla germs,” Adam offers halfheartedly. 

Blue just levels him with a unimpressed look, and Adam’s got flashbacks to junior year when Maura caught the pair of them getting drunk off Persephone’s peach wine coolers.

It’s terrifying.

“Charming. But no need, I’ve already begun sifting around for places nearby that are looking for a new roommate.”

Adam takes the papers she’s already printed off and begins shuffling through them.

“This one has like five cats,” he tells her with a curled lip.

“It sounds homey.”

“You’re allergic,” Adam rebukes. 

“I’m desperate Adam!” Blue reminds him.

“This one has a picture of him wearing a MAGA hat on his facebook profile pic,” Henry informs her, holding a second listing.

“Okay not that desperate,” Blue crumples it up and tosses it to the side. Adam would tell her to throw it in the trash like an adult but reasons she’s having a moment. 

“Mmm, what about this one,” she waves around the paper and Henry takes it to look over himself.

“It’s with three random dudes.”

“Three normal looking dudes,” Blue presses. “And so to reiterate, I’m desperate.”

“Ted Bundy was a normal looking dude,” Adam charges, making Blue glare at him menacingly.

“Adam I can still see flesh in my nightmares!”

Sixth, sixth time he’s rolled his eyes. Jesus fucking Christ Adam is gonna be sent to an early grave because of  an aneurism from them.

.-

The problem is that when Blue sets her mind on something, not even the angels above can dissuade  her from it, so that’s why Adam spends his Saturday afternoon— the only one he’s had off from a shoot in literally three months— driving to some sketch apartment with her and Henry, in the latter’s abrasively flashy sports car. 

He feels like a fraud.

“Blueberry are you sure you put in the right address?” Henry asks, face scrunched in confusion once they cruise into the open parking spot in front of a dilapidated looking  manufacturing building.

Blue flickers her eyes back down towards her phone before glancing up with a sure nod. 

“Look it says Monmouth right over there on the sign near the front door. This’s the right place.” 

“Right place to get murdered,” Adam intones darkly. 

Blue only tosses him a glare before slipping out.

“Are we bad people for going along with this?” Henry asks Adam, his mouth downturned in concern.

“Nah, we were bad people long before this.” Adam assures him wryly  before following suit.

.-

“I don’t want a new roommate,” Ronan tells Gansey for the third time in the past hour. In turn, Gansey only rolls his eyes before trying to stuff the old pizza boxes into the trash can. God fucking damn it, Helen’s right, they do live like pigs.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Noah contends. “It’ll bring some new energy in this place.”

“Oy, what did I tell you about saying shit like energy and chakras.”

“That’s it’s something a douche hipster would say and you’d throw me out a window if you heard it again.”

“And yet.”

“All I can say to that is dude you need to clear your chakras.” Noah says, fully goading, and making it so an unexpected laugh tears out of Ronan, the total prick.

“For the love that is all holy and right, will you two please just attempt to act normal when she gets here.”

“It’s a girl?”

“A girl with models as friends,” Noah perks, completely beaming. “And you know what that means,” Noah winks and Ronan, for the good of the public, cuffs him on the back of the head. Hard.

“You fucking sly dog, how do you even know that?”

“Preliminary interview through the phone,” Noah shrugs. “She sounds nice, better than living with that guy with a pet snake.”

“That snake was fucking cool.” Ronan argues.

“There’s a one pet limit here, and your raven has taken the slot.” Gansey huffs, hand on his hip like Aurora would do if Ronan and Declan were being especially rowdy. “And Noah don’t ask about her model friends, that’s creepy.”

“That’s kind of my shtick man.” Noah points out, wide eyed.

“Less horror film creepy and more loser from Revenge of the Nerds creepy,” Gansey clarifies scoldingly.

Noah swallows down a lump, properly cowed.

It’s right then when the doorbell rings and Gansey frantically puts in the last of the empty cups into the dishwasher from the sink before scurrying to the doorway, Noah and Ronan on his heals.

Ronan knows he lost the battle and the war the moment the door swings open and the first thing the pixie sized, colorfully dressed girl says is a glowing “Blank 182?” While gesturing towards Noah’s… Well Noah’s everything.

Noah looks like the cat who’s gotten into the cream, Gansey looks more glowing than usual, and Ronan can’t take his eyes off the sandy haired boy she’s brought along with her.

.-

Living with Blue is a beast that Ronan can’t quite figure out how to defeat.

She, probably like any sane person, expects the house to be in some sort of semblance— aka no more jackets and other innocuous articles of clothing thrown about the shared living space, and for dishes to be rinsed after use and put into the dishwasher accordingly. 

“Your rooms can be as trashy as you want, but can we please not make the whole place a pigsty,” she had sniffed with a cocked head and jut out hip. Gansey of course nodded giddily— on account to his staring at her all moony ever since meeting her— Noah had shrugged, indifferent. But Ronan held out as long as possible, sneer on his lips. But alas, she met his every zig with a zag and he found himself in a stalemate.

But Ronan could deal with the tidiness and even the impromptu yoga sessions she holds with randoms from her classes at university. Hell he could deal with her weird obsession with Yogurt too, and can actually listen to her rants about the patriarchy and institutional blocks that keeps the impoverished and people of color and women down from being able to achieve feats once only meant for wealthy white men. Fuck, Ronan’s come to think her particular brand of spitfire humor is actually hilarious.

So yes all of this is fine. But with Blue comes them. Henry Cheng, best friend she met at some art class her freshman year. And fucking Adam Parrish, apparently someone she’s known for so long and so intimately that she refers to him as family more often than not.

And yeah. Ronan is not jealous and Noah needs to take that fucking sneer off his face.

“You’re jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Ronan yells emphatically for the fifth time.

“Ronan has a crush!”

“Noah God so help me!” He threatens, totally venomous.

“You’re in loveee!” 

“Noah I will destroy you!”

.-

Okay so Ronan might be sorta, kinda, not jealous…. But bothered. Yes Bothered. He’s bothered because he can’t fucking figure out Blue and Adam’s deal. One second they’re sniping at one another about the economy and the next she’s lying her head in his lap while he’s carding a hand through her hair.

Fucking salacious shit.

But occasionally, on especially good days, Blue falls asleep early and instead of going back home right away, Adam stays. He stays and he shares a drink with Ronan on the porch and they talk about nothing really, but also a lot of things. Ronan find’s out he basically grew up with Blue, that she was his first everything. He’s deaf in his left ear and he didn’t mean to fall into modeling but he didn’t have enough money to finish the semester at MIT and instead of giving up he took up some side gigs which eventually culminated into a career of his own. 

Ronan finds out that Adam’s favorite flavor of ice cream is cow tracks and his front tooth is chipped from behind.  Adam has a small, crooked smile and when he laughs its more breath than sound and its absolutely lovely.

Ronan finds this all out but still has no idea whether he has a shot.

And again, he’s bothered.

.-

“I vote on something classic,” Blue tells them with a sip of her shake. (Read the shake Adam bought but Blue somehow still always drinks half of even while she complains about being on a diet, which then leads her to grouse about how Adam stays narrow and lithe even if he eats four quarter pounders back to back).

Sadly, this happened once and only once when Adam was especially stressed over a finals week and hadn’t eaten for literally three straight days. 

She really has seen him at his worst.

“Ooo, let’s watch some singing in the rain! I’m ready to belt out some toons.” Henry crows.

“Oh well if it includes your perfectly pitched singing,” Adam says flatly. Blue promptly elbow checks him and Henry waggles his tongue out.

“Sounds good to me Henry, so where?”

“Your place?” Adam says, brow kinked and trying to smother down the hopefulness in his voice. Of course, it doesn’t work. They know him better than anyone else, and they immediately stick him with matching smirks.

“Pray tell Parrish, me and you have the better entertainment system by far, and yet you’ve been insistent on heading to Blueberry’s place for our weekly movie nights for the past two months…. Hah, I wonder what two months signify?”

“Ooo ooo! I know Henry, I know!” Blue teases swinging her arm up high like an excited school girl. “I just moved into Monmouth and Then Adam over here got all slack jawed and goofily eyed over my scary roommate!”

“Blueberry gets the point!” Henry squawks, giving her a makeshift bracelet out of the straw wrapper.

Adam looks at them both with as much fury as he could muster, cheeks infused red, and jaw locked.

In retort, they only laugh ebulliently.

Adam is so tempted to make new friends.

.-

Ronan opens the door on a random Thursday afternoon a week later and Adam steels his nerves, not about to back down.

“Oh, ah Parrish.” His prominent brows furrow together, suspicious. “Maggot isn’t here yet.”

“I know,” Adam says, head tipped high. “Can I come in?”

Ronan only shrugs as he moves aside to give him the room to enter.

“You look like you have something squirming up your ass,” Ronan tells him, as blunt and as crass as ever.

Adam silently questions to the universe why is it that he’s so resoundingly attracted to him for that.

“You’re so eloquent with your words Lynch, you know that?” Adam tells him, completely flat, and making it so Ronan’s answering grin is something feral and amused.

“So you gonna just stand there looking pretty or actually get it out?”

“Jesus Christ, do you have an ounce of patience in your entire body?”

“I sweat it out at the gym, you wouldn’t know that skinny.” Ronan barbs, hip checking him while he struts to the kitchen.

Adam just glares after his form… His well built and deliciously broad shoulders.

“Still got enough muscle to beat your ass,” Adam teases and Ronan leers, impressed. Adam walks closer, magnetized. 

“So Blue’s enlightened me about something.”

Ronan hikes up a brow, betraying his mask of indifference.

“Is that right. What? Did Maggot make you understand that the hand holding and lovey-dovey looks are getting abrasive?”

Adam is utterly confused to what he’s talking about— Did he find out about the crush, and if so does that mean he’s already, wordlessly rejected Adam. Is Ronan completely uncomfortable right now.

Adam shakes off the questions, is determined to just plunge in for once in his life without beating a situation to death with analysis.

“She’s enlightened me that my crush on you is getting to ridiculous levels of yearning and i should just ask you out like an adult.”

A thousand different expressions pull at Ronan’s face until finding landing at something Adam can only call aw.

“Oh— Ah, wait. Wait do you like me?”

Adam rolls his eyes heavenwards. God he really is going to get an aneurysm.

“You are such a doofus,” Adam sighs before inkling his head forwards and kissing Ronan senseless.

Ronan grabs his head and presses impossibly closer.

.-

Later that night, when Henry and Blue march in with the decided upon movie they both begin to preen at the sight of them, exchange bills with Noah and Gansey too.

Again, Adam is going to be sent to an early grave. But hey, if in the meanwhile Ronan does that thing with his tongue, Adam will at least enjoy his final earthly days.