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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

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Guys I’m having another Bakugo brainrot

Tw: bullying, noncon, nonconsensual peeping, manipulation

Remember that one episode of MHA where the class goes to the sauna and M*neta tries to check da girls out over the wall?

Imagine the same scenario, but years later when they’re all older

The class wanted a reunion, just to relax and blow off some steam

You’re with the girls, and you all lay back in the hot water reminiscing about the older days when everyone was still getting the hang of their own quirks

Mina brings up this exact same scene but years ago.

“Ohmigosh, do you guys remember the last time we came in our first year here and Mineta totally tried to get a peek at us?”

“Ugh, I hope Iida is keeping a good hold on him right now,” Ochacko giggles, kicking her feet up to rest on a rock

You hum in agreement, tilting your head back to rest against the wooden wall separating you and the boys.

As it was, Uraraka was almost spot on with her hopes. Except, Iida and Tokoyami were out getting refreshments for the rest of the boys, leaving the remaining group to their own plot.

Which was lead by Mineta, of course, who had the brilliant idea to spy on the girls, just like they almost did years back.

“Guys, come on, please they’re right there!” He practically salivates, wildly gesturing to the tall wooden wall in front of them.

Most of them shift uncomfortably and groan about him being a creep as usual, but the rest stay silent.

Mineta takes their lack of outright refusal as fuel to keep blabbering.

“Look, we almost got away with it back then-“

“-You mean you got away with it, we didn’t do shit. And you didn’t exactly get off scot-free, Kota completely demolished your attempts and you landed ass down on Four-Eyes’ face,” Bakugo drawls, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the obsidian sky. The boys laugh, remembering the ridiculous event.

The night is cool, the stars littering the inky atmosphere take the pressure off of Bakugo’s lungs. For weeks now they’ve been training like dogs, battling each other and even minor villains for extra practice of their quirks. This trip was supposed to be a leisure getaway, not a free porno.

But the grape-headed perv is insistent, scoffing and waving the blond’s quip off like some annoying fly.

“You know, there’s something in it for you too, Bakugo. I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N.”

This causes a murmur and a couple of light beers towards the blond, who in turn snarls and ignites his hand to quell the commotion. All of them had an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had finally set his sights on some poor girl, and that was you. It was such a rare sight to see his face flush slightly when you walked past him, the way he stuttered over his words a bit when you two would be conversing amongst the same group, and best of all, when they would see how he would excuse himself to the bathroom or locker room occasionally when your hero suit would tear in certain places after battles.

“Shut the fuck up 3’2, unlike you I don’t need to ogle at those brain dead bimbos.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you thought of Y/N as a ‘brain dead bimbo’, Bakugo, I’ll be sure to let her know how you feel” Mineta grinned maliciously, and the boys ‘oooo’ed at the jab.

Bakugo’s voice caught in his throat.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, rising slightly out of the water.

“I already know you’ll kill me afterwards, but I’m prepared for the repercussions if you don’t help...cooperate here,” Grapehead inspected a cuticle and feigned a yawn.

“Come on Bakugo, it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anyone! Well keep this to ourselves,” Denki chimed in a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re only asking for your and everyone’s support so that we can focus better on training y’know? A little fun never killed anyone.” Sero threw his arm over Kirishima’s shoulder, who blushed at the whole ordeal but kept silent all the while.

Katsuki looked around. Slowly, others were starting to really listen in and look interested at the outcome of Mineta’s plan. Surely a little peeping wouldn’t be too bad would it? And plus, it was only a one time thing.

Shoto was faring the same way as Kirishima, quiet and maybe embarrassed at what they were planning on doing, but no outright refusal. Even Deku had a weird longing glint in his eye, the same kind he would get when he used to fawn over All Might.

He thought about it for a minute more, a chance to see you, naked, honest, and pure, splashing around with your friends as you let your femininity dangle as it pleased.

“Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not taking blame if the bird and glasses come back, though.”

Hushed cheers and excited murmurs erupt from around the spring, and they huddle together to form a plan.

A couple minutes later, the boys were grouping around the wooden panels. Todoroki had burned a hole into the soft wood, and sero had used his transparent tape to cover it up so that the girls couldn’t see it from their side.

And there they were, completely bare, hair flowing, curves showing, voices mature and high pitched giggles emanating from around the water and bank.

Bakugo seeks you out immediately after the hole is made, shoving his way through the crowded bodies much to the amusement of others. But he doesn’t care, all he wants at the moment is to see you in your most honest element.

He doesn’t have to look long, because you’re right there, you’re right in front of them, only a few meters away. Your back is facing them, but the sight of your smooth, naked back and the round curve of your ass squishing against the rocks underneath you is enough to make Bakugo’s cock bob painfully above the water. It’s not too hard to hide his erection since the boys’s attention is elsewhere at the moment.

Your hair is open, and he wants nothing more than to feel it in his hands, run his fingers though your scalp and pull so hard that your neck is snapped back, he wants to know what kind of noises you’ll make for him, would you sound shrill and high pitched or would you wail and bellow for him to let go?

They can hear the girls talking amongst themselves, the hole in the wall makes their voices more audible and clear.

“Quit playing coy, Jirou, we know you’ve got your eye on someone,” Hagakure’s body is nowhere to be found as usual, but her chipper voice rings out from the middle of the hot spring.

Jirou is a few feet away from where you sit, her body also being shown for everyone to see. Bakugo glances at Kaminari to confirm his suspicion, but gags and quickly looks away when he gets an eyeful of his friends’ erect cock.

Not that Bakugo himself has room to talk, though.

“I mean, not really, it’s not a big deal.” The ravenette shifts and hides her head from the rest of girls’ cooing.

“Uh huh, sure. You’re not fooling anyone Kiyoka, I’ve seen the way you look at Denki. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, it’s cute,” you purr, and Bakugo holds himself back from shoving the other guys out of the way just so that he can hear your voice the best.

Squeals and sounds of splashing fill the air, and Sero and Kirishima whisper excitedly and clap their red-faced friend on the back. Denki can’t keep the 50K watt smile off his face, and even Bakugo grunts and knocks shoulders with him, letting him know that he was happy for the human charger.

But then Jirou claps back with her own snarky observation, and the boys fall hush at the new revelation.

“Alright, you wanna talk about ogling Y/N? Then tell me, how’s Deku doing?”

“Or Bakugo, too,” Mina adds slyly, and now all the girls’ attention, as well as the boys’, is on you.

Bakugo felt like he had whiplash. He would’ve been elated, on Cloud 9 even to hear that maybe you had something for him too, had shitty Deku’s name not have been thrown in there too.

And he looks around wildly for the green haired freak, the freckles dusted across the expanse of his face even more prominent from the deep blush quickly forming, his scarred hands holding the sides of his face shaking in awe and gleeful shock.

But the rest of the boys aren’t as oblivious to how Bakugo seethes at his rival’s joy, from the way the water gets hotter from his quirk sparking underneath the rippling waves. Kirishima scoots closer to his friend and gently lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say, calm down, man. Not right now.

And so the hothead leaves it for the time being, opting to hear your response.

“I-it’s really nothing, they’re both just good classmates like the rest of the guys,” and although your back is turned to them, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re embarrassed too, your leg skittishly bouncing in front of you is making your ass jiggle from the back, much to the delight of the salivating boys.

Bakugo wants to spill blood when he suddenly realizes your body is being shown for the rest of these dogs to see

The girls start teasing you, your splutters being drowned out by their playful accusations.

“Come on L/N, whose cuter?”

“Dont act all coy now, I know how nervous you get when you’re all close to Bakugo. I mean I don’t blame you, have you seen his muscles? He could crush someone’s head with those things!”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she giggles when Deku starts his mumbling tangents? That’s a classic crush right there.”

Bakugo is getting desperate to hear your answer now, some of the boys have left, feeling like they had their full of excitement for the night. They saw some tits and ass, heard some gossip, end of story.

The only ones remaining were Bakugo and his gang, as well as IcyHot and Shitty Deku.

Shitty Deku, who seemed equally eager to hear your response.

It pissed him off that he wasn’t getting the message to fuck off, even after all the growling and death stares he was receiving from his childhood friend.

But he guesses after a lifetime of dealing with it, it doesn’t scare Deku as much as it does anymore.

Maybe he’ll have to amp it up, later

“W-well I mean both of them have their own respective...flaws and strengths I guess..sometimes Deku can be kinda hard to talk to ‘cuz he’s so shy, but Bakugo can be a real jerk at times, too.”

You trail off, and Bakugo scoffs to himself. Him? Flaws? Those two words didn’t go well in one sentence together, but nonetheless he continues to listen. He wouldn’t refute the notion of him being an asshole, he wasnt that delusional.

“And yeah, I mean Bakugo definitely intimidates me sometimes with how aggressive he can be, but Deku is definitely getting up there in terms of physical prowess. But in terms of who I like, I’d have to say-“

“Midoriya! Bakugo! What are you two doing over there?”

Iidas voice booms across the water, and all 6 of the boys jump back, startled at the intrusion.

“No, wait-“ Bakugo hisses, clawing his way towards the hole to hear the rest of what you had to say, but Sero and Todoroki shove him back and patch the hole up with fire and tape, shutting off your confession.

Deku waves his arms around wildly, stammering some excuse of dropping his towel in the spot where they all were sheepishly gathered. They eventually waded their way over to where Tokoyami had set the drinks down, but the blond was shaking with hot rage despite the cool refreshment that was shoved into his hand by a wary Kirishima.

“Don’t sweat it dude, it’s not like her and Midoriya are gonna da-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll blast both your and his head off,” he glowers at the redhead, shorting a dark look to where an all-too-happy Deku was chatting with Todoroki, as if they hadn’t been drooling over their naked classmates merely a couple minutes ago.

Kirishima backs off with raised hands in surrender, leaving Katsuki to mull over the situation by himself.

You couldn’t seriously be interested in that green haired freak, right? I mean he could barely talk to a girl without tripping over his own damn tongue, for fucks sake.

Not that he was any better himself. He failed to acknowledge the times where you had merely asked him for an extra pencil, when he snapped at you for being such a fuckin’ dumbass that you couldn’t even remember to bring your own shit. He had done that out of pure impulse, but he regretted it the moment he saw your face fall, his heart clenching at the sight

He’d have to show you that he was the better option, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

And so when they had all gotten out of the water and gotten ready for food, Bakugo already knew what he had to do.

You were all eating outside in the camp pavilion, each at their own separate tables. He was sitting with the boys, all of them joking around and throwing food at each other while he was staring you down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. How could you expect him to, after he had seen half of you bare already? It was sinful almost, the way you were completely in the dark about what he had seen and heard, while he himself was fantasizing about what you looked like and felt like on the front.

So when Deku came by your table, no doubt also having the same conversation of the springs in mind, wanting to get closer to you, Bakugo felt his sanity snap.

The fork he held in his hand started melting in his ignited hand, steam curling from his palm. He watched as the green-eyed fuck made successful shitty attempts to make you laugh, his eyes trained on where you gently laid a hand on his shoulder after something he said that made you throw your head back and howl with glee.

“Hey man, your fork-!” Kaminari yelped, pointing at the disfigured mess of metal in his friend’s steaming hand.

“Huh?” Bakugo was pulled out of his irate daze, and he quickly dropped the fork when he saw what he unconsciously did.

They all looked at him for an uneasy minute after noticing the expression on his face, no doubt understanding he was furious about being compared to Deku once again in front of you.

“Look, Bakugo, don’t really take what Y/N said to heart. We don’t know who she actually likes, and Midoriya’s just her friend...” but Sero trails off hesitantly after glancing in your direction, seeing Deku’s dreamy expression as your hand still continues to rest on his shoulder.

“Just let her come to you, yeah? You don’t wanna force anything on her, that’ll make her really uncomfortable-“

-“Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair, and mind your own damn business,” Bakugo interjects, abruptly unscrewing his drink and standing up, unable to lose you to some broccoli- headed bug-eyed fuck.

He stiffly walks across the pavilion to where you two sit, and feigns a swig from his bottle. Your focus is still on Deku, so you don’t notice him approach until he comes up behind you two and ‘trip’s, falling forward and strategically spilling the liquid all over Deku’s back and your front.

You squeal as your blouse is drenched, and Deku shoots up from his seat to grab some napkins while searching for the perpetrator.

“What the- Kacchan?”

“Oops.”

Bewildered, you look at the two while dabbing the wet splotches on your shirt, Mina and Tsu jumping into action to help you.

The boys exchange a weird look, and although Bakugo gave his version of an apology, he doesn’t look very sorry. In fact, if you saw it right he looked almost...smug? With a bit of anger?

Deku wasn’t any easier to understand either. His voice was lilted as usual while he grabbed napkins, but his gaze never left his childhood friends’ and his eyes weren’t exactly the big doe-eyes you had grown fond of.

They were darkened, and narrowed as they bored into Bakugo’s eyes. Neither one of them was looking away from each other, and there was a weird tension in the air that everyone could sense.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to go and wash up.

“I gotta change and maybe take a shower, I can feel it sticking to my skin,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and tell Mina as you stand to leave. Deku offers to walk you, but you wave him off kindly.

As you pass by Bakugo, you can feel his eyes rove up and down your body, very obviously staring at the way your white shirt clings to your chest from the liquid, sending chills up your spine.

But he doesn’t come after you, not yet.

It’s only after everyone has finished up from their dinner and headed off to bed almost 20 minutes later that the showers finally, finally warm up enough for you to dip a hesitant toe in.

Curse the old pipes.

*******

He watches you from the dark, the only light you’re provided with is the dim emergency light from the rusty bulb, the camp counselors having been shut the facility’s lights off merely a half hour ago. But you were stubborn in waiting for the water to warm up so you were left alone in the showers, shifting uncomfortably in your sticky wet clothes.

And then miraculously you get up for the umpteenth time to check the temperature of the water, and it’s finally deemed appropriate for you when you sigh in relief and start taking your shoes off.

He hides in the door partition, his cock hardening slowly as he thinks of you alone with just him and his mercy. You were going to pay for almost breaking his heart and prancing around with stupid fucking Deku instead.

But asides from his rage, he still liked you, a lot. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you, so he decided to try and attempt to make your first time with him as gentle and as special as he could in the dirty cabin showers.

Bakugo waits with bated breath for the right moment, and the second your hands grip the end of your shirt to pull it up, he slowly emerges from the dark.

“You know, I’m glad you came here alone, at night. It’s almost like you wanted this.”

You jump violently at the low voice coming from seemingly nowhere, and you wildly look around for the source until you see him...coming at you slow from the inky abyss of the room, like a predator stalking his prey.

His figure seems to loom even larger than he actually is, the shadows of his tall body bouncing off the walls and grazing over the top of your head. He seems to be in no rush, taking his time with his hands in his pockets, eyes flashing dangerously at you as he stalks forward until he’s backed you up against the deteriorating wall, chest to chest with you.

“W-what the hell, Bakugo,” you stammer nervously. “This is the girls room, you can’t be here-“

And the hand you raise to push him away is caught in his calloused ones, your other wrist is quickly seized as well and slammed above your head. You cry out in pain and try kicking out, but he wedges a bulky knee in between your thigh and shoves his face mere millimeters away from yours, a mean leer adorning his normally-attractive face.

“What, I can’t be here? And here I was thinking that you almost liked me. But oh, I forgot, Deku’s your favorite, right?” The grip on your wrist tigthens and his leg flexes from in between your thighs.

You squirm and sob, about to ask what the hell he was talking about-

Oh.

Oh no.

He sees the understanding pass over your face, and he laughs cruelly at the horror that comes with it.

“You heard me? How?”

“Not just heard. I saw you, too.”

He lets his eyes drop from your neck, to your chest, and then to the juncture between your legs which was being massaged by his knee.

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he was watching you this entire evening in the springs. How he got away with it, you didn’t want to even know.

“I saw your hair open for the first time, and not in that stupid hairdo you always do for school.”

He trails his hand softly up the sides of your body and up your neck until he reaches his big hand into your scalp. You whimper and gasp as he laces his fingers through your locks, seeming to caress you but then harshly yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him head on.

“I saw your ass pressed up against the rocks, and I wished it was up against my cock instead.”

He removes his hand from your hair and snakes it down to your bottom, kneading and slapping it lightly. You writhe even harder now, too scared to make a noise in case he hurts you even worse, just wanting him to get the hell off of you.

“But I didn’t see the front of you. I imagined what you would look like with tears streaming down your face while I was stuffing you full of me”

He plays with the edge of your shirt, a dark look in his eye as he plays with you. You try to budge your hands but to now avail, only serving in annoying him and shoving his knee up further into your crotch. The pressure on your clit is immense, and your legs start shaking as you’re forced to be suspended almost midair on his knee.

“Take this off,” he says softly, the rasp catching in his voice.

“Bakugo, please. You don’t have to do this, I swear I won’t tell anyone-“

“You think I’m worried about if you’ll tell anyone? Hah! I already know you won’t, wanna know why?”

He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair and grazing his nose along the side of your neck. You force yourself to breath in and out, feeling an impending heart attack.

“‘Cause if you do, I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of everyone, especially on Deku’s broken body.”

And then you can’t stop them, the tears fall from your body shaking in pure fear at his threat.

You knew he wouldn’t actually do something like that, but hearing it snarled in your ear so softly made you believe it all the same, the power he held while you were fucked, literally and metaphorically.

“Now I’m not gonna ask you again. Take this shit off before I burn it, bitch.”

You don’t want to piss him off further, so with trembling hands you lift the edge of your sticky uniform and start to pull it off, but he stops you with a frustrated grunt.

“Slowly. I wanna savor this while no ones here.”

You bite your lip and suppress a scream as you do what he says.

And oh, does he ever savor it. The shirt clings deliciously to your breasts, and he licks his lips as it ruffles up and over your head. Your skin is perspiring from the humid air, a sheen of sweat lightly decorating your collarbones. Bakugo can’t hold himself back any longer, and you yelp when he comes at you suddenly.

He lunges at your face and pins your arms down by your side again as his lips mesh against yours, his kiss filled with clacking teeth and a thrashing tongue against your lips. The knee you’re straddling is bouncing lightly up and down, jostling you on it and causing your cunt to pulsate with heat.

You let out a distressed moan, and he swallows it greedily, using the advantage of your open mouth to delve deeper into your wet cavern. You open bleary eyes and flinch when you find his already wide open, staring back into unforgiving vermillion orbs.

He pulls back slightly, panting. “I bet Deku didn’t get this kind of treatment, huh? It’s all for me right?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking you or just being insane, so you don’t answer him. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, he doesn’t care for your response, rather more focusing on dragging you by your neck towards the hot showers.

You slip and stumble as he shoves you in a stall, gaining your balance only too late when he turns and locks the door.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, just forget you saw or heard anything at the springs, it was just girl talk, stupid stuff that didn’t mean anything-“

“-even if it didn’t mean anything to you I’ll make sure you believe what you’ll feel after I fuck you senseless.”

And with that, he tugs off his clothes and licks his lips at the sight of you cowering against the wall, naked and oh so vulnerable.

He slowly shifts towards you, pressing his body flush against your trembling one. You can feel the outline of his erection on your thigh, and you swallow at how big it is.

“I don’t wanna have to close your mouth or restrain you when I’m balls deep in that tight cunt. So don’t do anything stupid and this’ll be a whole lot easier for you.”

He reaches a hand down and lightly strokes your labia, relishing in how you whimper and jerk against him, but don’t dare try to stop his hand.

Smart girl

Another hand finds its way to your tits, tugging and pulling at your hardened nipples. You gasp and arch into his touch, slowly coming undone from his ministrations. He humps against your leg like a teenage kid, grunting while he does so.

His mouth is attacking yours once again, but now you’re too tired from the constant surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins to even move your head. You just let him play with your body, your heart, your soul.

“I think the princess is wet enough for me now,” he leers at you when he pulls his fingers away, scissoring his digits to show the strings of wetness he pulled from your pussy.

You squeal and grab onto his chiseled arms as he suddenly hikes his hands underneath your upper thighs and picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his middle for support.

He slams you against the wall, the water cascading down your head is making your hair stick to your face, and in a strange and sudden show of intimacy Bakugo softly moves your locks away from your eyes. Your gazes lock, yours desperate and tear filled while his scarlet hues show no signs of mercy, but rather a strange predatory hunger.

Your arms scrabble behind his head and on his shoulders for balance as he slowly sinks you down on his length. You hiss and throw your head back at the sensation of being filled, and he eats it up.

He watches the way your mouth opens, your eyes widen, as every sinful sound your body can make escapes you.

As if he needed more of an ego boost

You wail as the last inches are sucked into your dripping hole, and he lets out a mean breathy laugh.

“Fuck, you really were ready huh? I should’ve taken you weeks ago, little slut.”

Your brows furrow and you try to turn your face away but he snatches your chin in a hardened grip.

“Uh-uh, none of that shit. You were doing so well, don’t turn away from me now.”

He slowly starts to roll his hips minutely into yours, not exactly thrusting but enough movement to make your cunt flutter and throb.

“What do you want me to say? You got what you wanted!” You whisper to him, more tears falling down freely down your cheeks.

He can’t help himself, he groans and surges forward to lick the salty rivers up, gripping your ass tightly when you flinch.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you want me, how much better I am than that green-haired bastard and I won’t shove it up your ass.”

You can feel his abdomen clench and shake from the effort he’s making not to completely batter your cervix so you give in quickly, afraid of what he’s like when his thin strands of self restraint snap.

“I...I love you Bakugo. I really want y-ooh!”

The last bit of your sentence is choked off as he lifts you up all the way to his tip and slams your hips down his length. You gasp and weave your hands through his hair for support, your legs violently shaking at the pain.

He grunts and starts really giving it to you, setting a fast pace as he bounces you on his cock. Your head is bobbing around, you’re fairly certain there’s drool coming down your lips but you can’t find it in you to care as he fucks you into oblivion.

After a couple of more painful thrusts he pushes you against the wall and removes your hands from his hair, holding them above your head against the wall. You’re trapped with your upper half plastered against the dingy tile while your lower half is wrapped his dick.

Your cunt swallowing him down is the only leverage you have, so your whole body weight presses down on his shaft. He moans loudly at the pressure on his tip, your gooey hot walls clamping around him from every angle and you yourself can’t help it when your eyes roll back at the sensation.

He rocks his hips up, and up you go as well, whining and clawing at the wall behind you, desperately grappling onto your sanity as well. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and his glinting eyes take perverse joy in their obscene movements.

Bakugo starts moving in earnst now, deeming the slow strokes enough prep for you. He batters your womb, reaching places not even your fingers could access, making you go cross eyed.

He sees this and snickers at your pathetic state.

“Fuck yeah you little whore. You’re gonna learn no one else can satisfy this slutty pussy like I can.”

You give him nothing but a choked gasp in response. You head moves like a bobblehead, you can’t even see clearly from the water cascading into your eyes. He’s just a towering blob of ashy blond hair and large muscles.

His hips start stuttering in their rhythm, drawing to a close from his contrasting pounding minutes earlier. Your nails rake over his forearms, holding on for dear life as he pants and groans into your ear like an animal. His dick spasms inside you for a second or two, and then Bakugo suddenly holds you tight against him, wet bodies pressed against each other as he cums.

He lets out a loud moan as you whine into his shoulder at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up. You’re held against his heaving chest for a moment of two, the both of you catching your breath until he slowly backs up and lets you slip to the ground.

It’s suddenly very quiet, the sound of the shower is drowned out by the ringing in your head. You’re shaking, shock overcoming your abused body as you refuse to look at him.

But he won’t have any of that. He steps forward, and you flinch yet again, scrambling backwards to put very necessary space between him and you.

“You got what you wanted. Please leave, I won’t say anything to anyone.” You breath out shakily.

He’s silent for a moment before you hear him chuckle. His low chuckles grow louder and more derisive, he’s booming with sinister laughter and you snap your head up in horror at him.

“You think this is done?”

He crouches to your level suddenly, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head at you, eyeing your naked body that he so recently claimed as his. His gaze travels down to where his cum seeps from between your legs, and you quickly cross your limbs over to prevent him from seeing the lewd sight.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I already told you, you’re not gonna be talking to Deku, or any other guy apart from me. You think they’ll even want you when they find out how you loved being fucked in the dirty showers? Everyone’s gonna call you a slut, nothing else.”

“No, that’s not true you-“

He crawls to you, and it’s so mesmerizingly terrifying to see a man of his build crawl to you like some deranged humanoid that you shut up, words caught in your throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says softly. “You’re my bitch now, and you’ll do whatever the fuck I say, when I say it.”

Bakugo might’ve felt a little bad to see the girl he liked so scared of him all because of his doing, but the way you trembled and crossed your legs like the stupid, helpless little girl that you were erased every hesitancy from his mind.

He grabbed your cheeks and smushed them together, paying no mind to the pleas and whimpers you let out in retaliation.

Licking a long stripe up your neck, you shivered when he growled, “now clean up and be outside in 10 minutes, you’re sleeping in my bunk tonight. The guys are all asleep so we’ll just take an empty room in the cabin.”

He released you and stood back up, grabbing a towel for himself along the way. Drying his hair off, his back was turned to you as he started picking his clothes up too.

You just sat there in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was dressed, and he was at the door now.

“If you think about doing anything stupid or take longer than 10 minutes, I’ll come back in and get you personally. And I’ll make sure that we stay here for the rest of the night, just in case you like your little time alone that I’m giving you too much.”

#tw: noncon #bakugo smut #yandere bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo mha #bakugo bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha yandere #yandere Bakugo #bnha yandere #bnha smut #mha smut

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oioinanami · 4 years ago

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glimpses. (bokuto koutarou x f. reader)

word count: 2.9k

synopsis: small glimpses into your life with bokuto.

contains: fluff, everything from strangers to lovers to established relationship to married life to parents + pregnancy au

Bokuto doesn’t notice you at first. You’re just one face among many in the crowd of people watching the volleyball game. But once the match is over and he sees you running towards the other team, apparently being friends with one of their setters, your hair flying behind you, eyes bright and smile even brighter, he can’t help the way his heart stumbles and his eyes widen. To him, you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, your face open and inviting, smile warm and lively. For him, it’s love at first sight - so not even Akaashi can hold him back when Bokuto asks the other team to join them for their celebratory dinner. It was just a friendly match after all, nothing more - no need for the others to be upset over having lost. To everyone’s surprise, the other team agrees, and Bokuto gets to spend the evening in your presence, somehow managing to sit beside you during dinner. You click immediately, his open and fun persona matching your own energy, even though you’re more reserved, a bit softer. That night, Bokuto makes you laugh uncontrollably for the first time, and he swears his heartbeat just flatlines. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life. By the end of the evening, he has your number saved in his phone, knowing that this night has been the beginning of something wonderful.

ii.

For your first date, you and Bokuto decide to go play laser tag. You’re on the same team, but being overexcited, Bokuto accidentally shoots you not even five minutes into the game. He apologizes over and over again, clearly mortified, but you just burst out laughing and stand on your tiptoes to brush a soft kiss against his cheek, making his heart burst and his face split into a huge smile. After that incident, he takes over the role as your personal bodyguard, dramatically sacrificing himself three times just so you don’t get shot. Thanks to his efforts, you get one of the highest rankings once the game ends, and Bokuto proudly kisses the crown of your head when he sees you placed second, yelling a “That’s my girl!” and making you blush madly.

You decide to buy some ice cream afterwards, Bokuto insisting you get all your favorite flavors because “you earned it” - his words, not yours. You shyly take his hand once you leave the store again, holding your ridiculously large ice cream cone in your other one. He gives you a soft smile, and immediately interlaces his fingers with yours before tugging you with him towards a park nearby. You lazily stroll around, quietly observing the ducks floating on the pond and dogs running around as well as the other people walking past you. Once you’ve both finished your ice cream, you decide to sit down on a bench and enjoy the last rays of sunshine, Bokuto excitedly telling you about his last volleyball match. “And you should have seen my last spike, Y/N, it was so good - Akaashi orchestrated it perfectly and-” You can’t help the soft smile spreading over your entire face, amazed at his seemingly never-ending enthusiasm and just overall cuteness. Bokuto stops mid-sentence, eyebrows lifting in slight surprise when he sees your expression.

“What-”, he asks, but then you have already leaned towards him, covering his mouth with yours. He immediately wraps both arms around you to pull you even closer to his warm body, his lips practically melting against yours. A few seconds later, his tongue pokes at your bottom lip to demand entrance, sliding into your mouth once you grant it. You only break apart when your heads begin to spin from the lack of oxygen, Bokuto pressing his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. “Please be my girlfriend, Y/N.”, he finally mumbles before opening his eyes again; they look like liquid gold in the light of the slowly setting sun, and your heart skips a beat. He’s truly just so beautiful, looking at him almost hurts. You smile and just nod once, making him exhale in obvious relief. Bokuto quickly captures your lips in yet another kiss, and you melt further into his embrace.

iii.

“Where do you want me to put this, babe?”, Bokuto huffs out, holding a giant cardboard box in his arms, the veins on his hands even more prominent than usual. You lift one eyebrow, about to reply, but Akaashi beats you to it: “Y/N literally wrote ‘kitchen’ on the box, Bokuto.” With that, he turns to you, “Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you deal with him - he can be such an airhead.” You grin and lean against the doorframe, continuing to watch Bokuto who’s just placing the last of your many, many boxes onto the kitchen counter before wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “Yeah, but he makes up for it by being hot.”, you reply and shoot your boyfriend a playful wink. Bokuto just rolls his eyes at you and begins to pout while Akaashi makes a gagging sound. Kuroo, who’s lazing on your brand new couch, chuckles. “Leave the two lovebirds alone, Akaashi. I think it’s cute they’re still so in love.”, he says and yawns, eyes half-lidded and expression relaxed.

“Why are you even here? You didn’t even lift one finger.”, Akaashi complains and kicks Kuroo’s feet from the small coffee table. “Someone has to provide the good looks.”, the black haired man answers smoothly before giving Akaashi a feline smile. “I’m already taking care of that.”, you reply, and stick out your tongue at Kuroo when he bursts out laughing. “How about we order some food now?”, Bokuto asks before draping one arm over your shoulder, brushing his lips against your temple, “Anyone hungry?” “Ew, ’Kou, you’re sweaty.”, you immediately squeal and try to free yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace, but he just grins and hugs you even tighter. “Yes, but I’m your sweaty.”, he answers smugly, and you scrunch up your nose, letting him kiss the tip of it. “And we can always take a shower together later.”, he mumbles before giving you a quick kiss, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Other people can hear you, you know.”, Akaashi groans, and you blush, shooting Bokuto a playful dark glare. He just winks at you, and your stomach jolts, heart skipping a beat - even after years of dating, your boyfriend still has this effect on you. “I’m very hungry after slaving away all day.”, Kuroo answers, ignoring your snort, and stands up, “And I vote for pizza.” Akaashi grumbles something about ‘wanting sushi instead’ while Bokuto scrolls through the delivery app on his phone. You just smile and lean your head against his broad shoulders, still not quite believing that this is the apartment you and him get to call your home from now on. Your boyfriend gives you a small smile, and gently tucks some of your hair behind your ear before murmuring a soft “Welcome home, babe” under his breath, his golden eyes darting from yours to your hand resting on his broad chest just above his heart and back again.

He knows that someday soon, your finger will have a ring on it.

iv.

Bokuto can’t help but cry when he sees you walking down the aisle and towards him, dressed in all white, a happy and soft smile on your face, hands nervously clutching a small bouquet of different colored roses. Somehow, he manages to say his vows even though he’s pretty much sobbing by now, and you can’t help but giggle at your fiancé - no, husband now -, gently clutching his damp cheeks between your hands when you are finally allowed to kiss and seal the vow that will keep you bonded forever. “Be glad I’m the one wearing mascara or else you’d look like a panda right now.”, you mumble against his lips when you break apart again, your friends and families cheering loudly, and your husband breaks into a bright grin. “I’d be the cutest panda ever though.”, he replies smugly, and you laugh, before letting him literally sweep you off your feet and carry you towards the reception hall, the cheers around you still not dying down and making you both laugh in glee.

You’re ready to burst with happiness when Bokuto’s beautiful golden eyes lock with yours, his smile just genuinely proud and happy. “I love you so much, my lovely and wonderful wife. Thank you for making me the happiest man by marrying me today.”, he whispers against your lips before kissing you deeply. You smile into the kiss, and tangle your fingers in his dark hair, its tips that beautiful silvery color you adore so much. “I love you too, my handsome and amazing husband.”, you reply in a hushed voice once you break apart, and Bokuto smiles, eyes beginning to water again.

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!”, Kuroo yells loudly when he enters the hall behind you, and claps Bokuto on his back before sweeping you up into a warm embrace, “I’m so happy for you guys! Who would have thought that you’d be the first one to tie the knot, ‘Kou? Out of all of us, I was totally betting on Akaashi to marry first.” Akaashi just playfully punches Kuroo’s arm before hugging both you and Bokuto, congratulating you quietly. His eyes are slightly red, but you decide to let it slide for now and to just tease him about it later. Your husband just laughs and ruffles his best friend’s hair before happily accepting the good wishes and hugs from the rest of your friends and families.

During your first dance, everyone can clearly see just how happy you two are, your eyes never leaving the other’s face, smiles soft and content; you‘re both just radiating pure bliss.

“Wanna bet who’ll end up the drunkest tonight? I’m saying it’ll be Hinata.”, you murmur shortly before the song ends, and Bokuto huffs out a laugh, “Nah, it’ll be Kageyama, for sure.” You grin, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Loser has to write all the thank you cards?“ “Bet.”, your husband just answers, and nuzzles your nose, his heart almost bursting with happiness.

“Shhh, Daaaaddy, wake up!”

Bokuto groans and tiredly rubs his face, yelping when he sees the face of his four year old hover directly above him, wide eyes glinting in the dimly lit room. “What?”, he murmurs, mind still groggy, and his son bounces on his chest, making Bokuto groan again. “Little owl, you should be asleep! It’s still very early.”, he mumbles as quietly as possible, voice heavy with sleep. His eyes slide to your still sleeping figure beside him before hugging his son close, nuzzling his nose. “Just because you were named after the sunlight doesn’t mean you have to be awake as soon as it creeps over the horizon.” Haru gives him a mischievous yet sweet grin, looking very much like you in that second even though he has his father’s dark hair and golden eyes, before clutching Bokuto’s face between his chubby hands. “I’m hungry!”, he then whines, bottom lip wobbling dangerously, and Bokuto quickly sweeps the boy up into his arms, tiptoeing out of the dark bedroom.

“Then let’s go make some breakfast without waking mommy, okay?”, he murmurs in a hushed voice after having closed the bedroom door behind him, and Haru nuzzles closer to his father’s chest, seeking more warmth. “Okay.”, his son answers, voice sleepy all of the sudden. Bokuto just chuckles, quickly grabbing a blanket from Haru’s room and wrapping it around his son’s tiny body. After entering the kitchen, he gently places Haru on a chair before beginning to shuffle through the kitchen cabinets. “Waffles sound good?”, Bokuto asks after having found all the necessary ingredients, looking over his shoulder and at his son who just nods excitedly, suddenly much more awake after having heard the word ‘waffles’.

You find yourself alone in bed, fingers searching for your husband’s warm body that should rest beside you. Surprised to find his side of the bed empty, you open your eyes and blink a few times, the sleep tugging at your lashes making them unbelievably heavy. You sigh, and carefully roll over to get up, your steadily growing belly making it harder by the day. You shiver when your bare feet touch the cold floor, and quickly grab one of Bokuto’s hoodies, carelessly discarded on top of the rocking chair in the corner of the room. You inhale deeply while slipping it over your head, Bokuto’s scent still clinging to the fabric and filling your nose. He always smells like home, and you can’t help but smile before opening the door, being greeted by your husband’s low voice and your son’s much higher one. Your heart swells while you listen to their conversation for a few seconds; Haru is apparently in the middle of explaining why waffles are superior to pancakes, Bokuto just making soft “Oohs” and “Ahhs” in between while shuffling around the kitchen. You creep closer, and lean against the doorframe, taking in the scene in front of you. Haru is sitting at the table, a glass of juice in front of him while he bounces his favorite plushie, an owl and a gift from Akaashi, on his lap, still babbling about the superiority of waffles. Your husband is standing in front of the stove, his hair sticking up in different directions, only clad in soft pyjama pants, the muscles on his broad back rippling while he mixes the batter. You sigh softly, and gently cup the swell of your belly while smiling at your little family, soon to be four.

As soon as he hears you behind him, your son’s head snaps around and he squeals a happy “Mommy!” before jumping down from his chair and running to you for a hug. You laugh and bend down to ruffle his soft hair, silky like his father’s. “Good morning, my darling. Did you wake your daddy again?”, you ask, voice gentle but slightly reprimanding. Haru looks up, guilt written all over his face, his bottom lip protruding a bit. He truly just looks like an exact copy of his father, and you can’t help but smile even wider. “No, he was already awake.”, your son tries to lie, but the second you lift one eyebrow, he scrambles to add “After I bounced on his chest.” You grin. “That’s what I thought.” You crouch down low and give Haru a semi stern look. “You know that your daddy needs his sleep, right? He goes to bed much later than you, so he needs to sleep longer.” Haru nods, golden eyes filled with a silent apology, and you quickly clutch his small face between your hands to pepper kisses all over his cheeks, forehead and nose, making him giggle and squirm in your embrace. Once you’re done, you try to stand up again, groaning while doing so. Lately, your back has begun to hurt slightly, all thanks to your growing belly. Bokuto is quick to help you up, his large, warm hands cupping your elbows while he gives you a silent look of disapproval, worry dancing in his golden eyes. “You need to be more careful, babe.”, he murmurs, but you just give him a dismissive wave of your hand. “This is the second child I’m bearing, ace, so I think I know what I’m doing.”, you reply, and your husband can’t help but smile a bit bashfully at your nickname for him - he just loves when you call him your ace. “I guess that’s true. You’re truly my Wonder Woman.”, he says proudly before leaning down for his good morning kiss. You quickly melt your lips against his, and he sighs happily, wrapping both arms around you. “Eww.”, your son screams before making a gagging sound, and you pull back from your husband to press one hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter.

“I feel like we shouldn’t allow Akaashi to babysit him anymore.”, you fake-whisper to your husband, “He’s becoming too much like him.” Bokuto just nods before giving his son a playful look of displeasure. “Noooo, I LOVE UNCLE SHI THE MOSTEST!”, Haru immediately whines, hitting his tiny fists against his father’s thick thigh, “Please, daddy! I want uncle Shi!” Bokuto just huffs out a laugh and lifts Haru up into his arms, tickling his sides. “Of course, you know we love Uncle Shi the mostest too. Don’t tell Uncle Kuroo though.”, he whispers and kisses Haru’s cheeks, loud mwah noise included. That seems to calm your son immediately, and he finally relaxes into his father’s embrace, his tiny head now resting on Bokuto’s broad shoulders. You lean against your husband as well, and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, sighing contently. “But I love Uncle Kuroo too. He says I’m going to be the best volleyball player one day, just like daddy is!”, Haru mumbles sleepily, and you smile softly, brushing his dark hair out of his sweet face. “Of course, you can be anything you want, my darling boy.”, you reply softly, and lift your head to smile at your husband. Bokuto returns it quietly before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. “I love you both so much.”, he murmurs when you break apart again, and you nuzzle his nose. “Me too.”, you answer before looking back at your son who has fallen asleep again, “Let’s go back to bed. We can have waffles later.” Bokuto just nods, and clutches his tiny boy a bit tighter in his arms before intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you back towards the bedroom for some family cuddles.

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raibebe · 4 years ago

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Genre: Fluff Words: 6.879 Prompt: best friend Yangyang x female reader + “Stop hogging all the blankets!” Warnings: MC is an oblivious idiot, Yangyang is a sweetheart, mentions of injury

A/N: What do you mean Valentine’s Day was on the 14th and not on the 24th? Seems fake. AnYwAys: This was written for the Candy hearts collab hosted by @127-mile. Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write for my precious brezel baby. Thank you @ncteaxhoe for the lovely header after I went almost crazy...

Taglist: @byunniebaekhyunnie

“You’re going on vacation with Yangyang?” “Yes.” “Your best friend?” “Yes.” “To an abandoned cabin in the woods.” “First it’s not abandoned, just very far out and second I don’t see where you’re going with this.” “Well are you?” You sighed loudly, rolling your eyes at Donghyuck who was sat in front of you in the library where you had met to have a little study session before you were leaving for the weekend. “Yes I am.” “On Valentine’s Day.” “It’s just because it’s on a weekend and it was cheap.” “You do see where I am going with this, right?” “I am not Donghyuck,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re literally the most stupid person I have ever met and I am friends with a bunch of idiots,” your friend whined, throwing the straw wrapper from his iced americano at you. “Hyuck what’s your problem? We’re literally just both stressed out from classes already and he found that offer that’s within both of our budgets. Nothing wrong about two friends chilling in a secluded cabin.” “Have you seen the freaking cabin?” Donghyuck whisper screamed, earning him a hiss from one of the students sitting on the table next to you. “I have, Hyuck.” “Then you might have missed the fact that this cabin coincidentally has a hot tub but only one bedroom?” He went on, waving his phone in front of your face where he had pulled up the website advertising the cabin. Groaning, you faceplanted into the books that were scattered around you. “Do you see what I mean now?” Donghyuck hissed, scrolling through the pictures on the website. “Hyuck listen. Yangyang and I are both kind of short on cash so the bigger cabins just weren’t going to make it if we wanted that hot tub. So we agreed that we could sleep in the same bed for a couple of nights, no big deal. Pretty sure you’ve done that with Mark, Jaemin and Jeno as well when you four went on spring break vacation.” “Don’t distract from the topic, that was entirely different,” Donghyuck mused but the slight blush covering his cheeks was betraying him. “Is it though?” You asked, a shit eating grin on your face. “When did this conversation turn into you commenting on my poor live choices?”

“Discussing Hyuck’s poor live choices? My favorite part time activity,” another voice joined into your conversation and Renjun plopped down next to his friend on the bench. “Can you smell my misery or something?” Donghyuck groaned, slumping back into his seat, dramatically staring at the high ceiling. “I wish I could,” the Chinese laughed, loudly slurping his iced drink of choice despite the chilly weather outside while completely ignoring the glares some of the students were shooting him, “No, I was supposed to meet Yangyang to give him my car keys but you’ll do.” With that he threw his keys onto the table. “It’s parked by the student center, should fit all of your stuff.” “Thank you Renjun,” you smiled, pocketing his keys. “There is a chance though that I am out of gas,” he grinned. “I knew there would be a catch,” the familiar voice of your best friend groaned before he plopped down next to you, loudly dropping his backpack onto the floor which again had people to glare at your little group. “I swear to god you’re going to get us kicked out,” Hyuck hissed, throwing Yangyang and Renjun disappointed glares. “Not like you were studying anyways,” Renjun rolled his eyes. “What were you doing?” Yangyang asked, flipping through the pages of one of your books. “Well I was trying to get a head start on my essay,” you groaned, “But Hyuck had other plans.”

“Exactly. Which brings me back to my point,” Donghyuck grinned, turning towards Yangyang, “Yang, so did you, by any chance notice that the cabin you’re staying at this weekend with your best friend on freaking Valentine’s Day conveniently only has one bed but features a hot tub?” “Oooooh,” Renjun mused, leaning forward into his elbows. “Well... We were short on money but wanted a hot tub?” Yangyang slowly answered, blushing under the intense gazes of both of his friends. “See Hyuck it’s exactly what I told you,” you groaned, “No big deal.” “Sure, just two friends sitting in a hot tub, five feet apart because they’re not in love,” Renjun sang. “The original sounds better,” Donhyuck said flatly. “Yeah but the both of them are disgustingly straight,” Renjun shrugged. “You make that sound like an insult,” Yangyang snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Anyways!” Donghyuck interrupted a little too loud, causing one of the students working in the library to actually walk over to your table to ask you to leave.

“Well great,” you groaned when you snuggled into your thick winter jacket once you were outside while Renjun and Yangyang couldn’t hold in their laughter anymore. “You guys are the worst,” you said and rolled your eyes even though you couldn’t stop the smile on your face from spreading. “You love us,” Donghyuck laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “We weren’t gonna get anything done anyways.” “And we still need to pack,” Yangyang added, “Also I still need the keys to the car.” “Catch,” you called and quickly threw the keys over to your best friend that Renjun had given you earlier, laughing as he struggled to catch them. “Treat her gently,” Renjun laughed, “Oh and she needs gas.” “Why did I expect anything else,” Yangyang groaned but pocketed the keys, “I’ll pick you up after your morning classes?” “Sure,” you smiled. “You’re leaving me alone in our literature class?” Donghyuck gasped, dramatically holding his heart. “Listen, it’s either listening to professor Quian all afternoon or drive to the cabin early, Hyuck. What would you do?” You giggled. “Fair,” he shrugged, “But I still feel betrayed.” “Yesterday you felt betrayed by that pizza place because you found one stray piece of pineapple on your pizza,” Renjun helpfully added. “That was an attack on my health,” he hissed, pointing his finger at his friend and roommate, “Pineapples do not belong on pizza.” “I am not having this discussion again,” you groaned and slipped out of Donghyuck’s grip, “I gotta pack my stuff.” “Yeah, have fun on your totally not couple’s vacation,” Renjun laughed. “It’s not a couple’s vacation,” you and Yangyang immediately shouted, giggling at each other afterwards. “You’re all disgusting, I am leaving,” Donghyuck declared, dragging Renjun with him in the direction of their dorm.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled at Yangyang. “Yeah, I’ll pick up Renjun’s car and get all the stuff inside. Be at your dorm at like 12.” “Sure, I’m really looking forward to this.” “Yeah, me too,” Yangyang said softly, a soft blush on his cheeks that must have been from the cold air. He quickly wrapped you up in a hug before waving goodbye to head over to the student’s center. Sighing you turned in the opposite direction to your own shoebox of a dorm room, skidding along excitedly. You really were looking forward to this vacation with your best friend.

The next day found you buzzing with excitement, quickly throwing the last things that had been missing into your bag before speeding to your morning classes that went by in a blur. In what felt like no time at all, you were rushing down the steps of your dorm to throw yourself into Renjun’s car and your arms around your best friend’s neck to squeeze him in a tight hug. “I’m so excited,” you squeaked once you let him go to heave in a couple of breaths. “I can tell,” Yangyang laughed, handing you his phone that was already connected to the AUX cord, “I spend two hours yesterday to make the perfect road trip playlist, so you better appreciate that.” “This better not suck,” you laughed as he started the car to start your journey.

The way up to the mountains found you and Yangyang singing along to his actually good playlist that included some of your favorite songs, your singing getting progressively worse and louder the higher up you got and the more snow was falling. After you had gotten lost just once or twice on the way to pick up the keys from a lady at the reception who handed you a big basket with rose petals, champagne and what seemed like condoms and lube. Heat had immediately risen to both of your faces and you had stumbled over your words for the rest of the conversation, relieved when you could finally leave and head over back to your car to drive up to where your small cabin was.

“This is so cozy,” you cooed once you had made it inside the cabin, dropping your bag right next to the door to race through the rooms that included a small but clean bathroom and small kitchen with the cutest old school curtains in front of the snowy windows and a door lead outside to where the hot tub was already steaming. The main room that you had come into had a small two-seater couch with a bunch of cozy blankets thrown over it standing in front of a little fireplace that both you and Yangyang were kind of scared to light but you had to eventually because that was all the heat you were going to get. “The bed is huge,” Yangyang exclaimed and the next thing you heard was a loud thump as he had faceplanted right into the mattress, currently starfishing out, his fingertips not reaching the ends of the bed. “But we only have one blanket,” you laughed, flipping up through the layers your best friend was laying on top. “Wait for real?” He asked, eyes wide and scrambling to take a look for himself. “I hope you like cuddling,” you giggled, tackling your best friend onto the bed who just screeched before he tried to get the upper hand in the tickle fight that had broken out.

“Okay, okay, I surrender,” you laughed with tears in your eyes and lifted your arms in defeat when he had you pinned beneath you, his fingers tickling your sides until you couldn’t breathe anymore. “You’re admitting defeat?” Yangyang laughed, all his teeth showing with how bright he was smiling, digging his fingers between your ribs one last time before he fell to the mattress next to you, you both panting heavily between giggles. When you turned your head to look at your best friend, he was already looking right back at you, something unreadable in his expression. For a while you just stared into each other’s eyes, the occasional noise of the wood of the cabin creaking the only sound you could hear. Had Yangyang’s eyes always sparkled like that in the low light? Or was it just more apparent now that he had dyed his hair back to his natural dark brown? You found your hand itching to push his too long bangs from his eyes so you could see them properly, captivated by how the edges crinkled up with how he was softly smiling.

The serene silence was very rudely interrupted by Yangyang’s stomach growling loudly which caused both of you to burst out into another fit of giggles. “I think that’s out cue to put the pizzas in the oven and to unpack,” you laughed, slapping your best friend’s shoulder when he made no move to get up, instead wrapping himself up in the throw blanket. “You’re so annoying,” you groaned and climbed off of the bed. “You love me,” he argued, sticking out his tongue at you. For some reason the easy answer of ‘Yes, I do’ got stuck in your throat and you just hummed before walking over to where you had unceremoniously dropped your bags by the door to get the half frozen pizzas and turned on the oven. What was wrong with you all of a sudden? You two always bickered like that. Screw Donghyuck for getting all up in your head before this trip. Nothing had changed. It was just you and your best friend spending a weekend together. Nothing unusual. That’s what friends did. It’s what Donghyuck did with his friends.

Staring blankly into the oven once you had put the pizzas in, you were lost in your thoughts that twisted and turned inside your head but didn’t seem to make any sense at all. “Are you mad at me?” Yangyang spoke and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to let out a high pitched screech from how surprised you were. “Don’t scare me like that,” you scolded him, trying to calm down your furiously beating heart. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hooking his head over your shoulder to look into the oven as well, just wordlessly holding you close. “I’m not mad,” you eventually said, letting the tension seep from your muscles and melting into his hold. Smiling you let your weight sag against him, knowing he would have the strength to hold you up. “Sleepy?” You just hummed nonchalantly even though you weren’t particularly tired but somehow your body felt exhausted. “The drive took longer than expected,” Yangyang agreed, “Let’s just eat and then try to get the fire going. I brought my laptop and downloaded all the episodes of our next season.” “You’re an angel,” you giggled, “I didn’t even think about that.” “I’m not,” he mumbled, hiding his face in your neck. “My angel,” you laughed, squirming in his grip to turn around and pinch his sensitive sides. What you hadn’t expected was him not backing off, so you found yourself pinned between his body and the oven, your faces dangerously close together. For a second or two you just stayed like that before Yangyang’s brain seemed to realize just how close you were, causing heat to rise to his cheeks and him nervously spluttering about how he’d set the table and unpack everything. Something was definitely off between you two but you chose to put it aside for now, not quiet daring to think about it.

Once you both had two steaming plates of pizza in front of you, everything seemed to be back to normal and conversation flew easily just how it always did between the two of you. You would complain about being swarmed with essays and Yangyang would complain about his two roommates who couldn’t be more different from each other which made for a lot of potential for arguments or about how his mother would continuously call him every week to bog him about how school was going, if he was taking his vitamins, if he was still practicing playing his violin, if he had found a girlfriend yet or if he had finally given up on his stupid dancing classes. You were always quick to tell him that he should not feel pressured to drop his dancing to take violin lessons again if he wasn’t passionate about it anymore, no matter how much his mom would nag him about it. You knew that he loved dancing way too much and had made so many good friends in his dance crew to just give it up. So just like every time you gently took his hand in yours to squeeze it reassuringly when you promised him he could live with you if his mother decided to disown him over this. But this time he didn’t let your hand go once he moved on to tell a story on how his roommates had started arguing in the middle of the night because one of them had started to eat snacks which had woken the other one up, this thumb mindlessly caressing the back of your hand.

“Do you really trust me with the fire?” Yangyang asked with a frown on his face as he read through the instructions that were hung up next to the fireplace. “I don’t,” you laughed from where you were washing the dishes in the kitchen, “But if they leave it for us to light, it can’t be too dangerous or difficult.” “I appreciate this incredible amount of confidence you have in me,” your best friend snorted before getting to work to pile up wood and paper and carefully lighting the latter. “I made fire!” He exclaimed excitedly, a bright grin on his lips which immediately made you smile as well. “Now just don’t let it go out,” you smiled, “I’ll go change into comfy clothes real quick.” Yangyang just hummed, carefully adding more wood to his fire so it wouldn’t go out again.

“Yo, I think I got the hang of it,” he announced once you came back to the warmed up living room with snacks and clad in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. “Is that my hoodie?” Yanyang asked when you sat down the bags next to his laptop where he had already pulled up the first episode. “Not a chance,” you replied and plopped down onto the couch to snuggle into the hoodie you definitely hadn’t stolen from your best friend. “It seems oddly familiar though,” he mused but sat down next to you anyways, your thighs touching because the sofa wasn’t particularly big. “I’ve had it for a while,” you grinned innocently, throwing one of the blankets over your legs to keep them warm. “Sure,” Yangyang laughed and threw up the large hood before pressing play on the first episode.

Throughout the episodes you seemed to gravitate towards Yangyang more and more the later it got: First only leaning your head on his shoulder, then he wrapped an arm around you to pull you even closer, followed by you pulling your legs up on the sofa, leaning even further into him until you were basically lying on his chest until it became too uncomfortable and you two shuffled around until he had both of his legs outstretched on the sofa with you sat in between them: your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you. “I could fall asleep like this,” you mumbled when you felt your lids getting heavy, the soft melody of the outro lulling you in. “Don’t though, we’ll be sore tomorrow,” Yangyang laughed, poking your cheek. “Is this your only concern?” “We’ve cuddled like this before,” he just shrugged it off. You just hummed and cuddled closer to his heartbeat, fully closing your eyes. “Yah. Don’t fall asleep on me like that,” your best friend protested, “There is a perfectly fine bed waiting with plenty of space.” “Not my problem your body is like 80 percent stupidly lanky legs.” “Come on, get up.” “But the bed is going to be all cold and it’s nice and warm in here,” you argued. “It’s not going to warm up if you keep clinging to me like that,” Yangyang giggled. “I’m not clinging,” you pouted. “Pretty sure you are,” he laughed, finger flicking your forehead, “Come on, lazy. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Grumbling, you agreed and followed your best friend into the small bathroom with the blanket still wrapped around your body where you two quickly washed up. You had been right, the air in the bedroom was icy to say the least. “We’re going to freeze to death and no one will ever find us, Yangyang,” you groaned dramatically. “They literally have to clean up before the next guests come here, so our corpses would be here for a week tops.” “You’re so good at this reassuring thing,” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help to smile. “I know,” he grinned, “Turn around.” “What for?” “I’m changing,” he simply stated, already unbuckling his belt. “Oooh.” With burning cheeks, you quickly turned around, clutching the blanket tightly in your hands. In quick succession you heard first his belt and then his pants and shirt hit the floor before he rummaged through his bag and stepped into new clothes. “Done,” he announced and immediately jumped onto the bed to shuffle beneath the layers of blankets. Still feeling shy you carefully dropped the blanket from the living room and crawled into bed as well, leaving a respectable distance to your best friend which was fairly easy with how big the bed was.

“If you’re going to hog all the blankets, I will scream,” Yangyang spoke into the sudden silence that had draped over you. “I bet you’re the blanket hogger,” you snorted and playfully tugged at the blankets to roll them tightly around you. “I swear to god,” your best friend groaned, his feet kicking the mattress in frustration, “I won one tickle fight and I will win again.” Giggling, you let go of your grip so Yangyang could easily pull the blankets back. “Good night, Yangyang,” you whispered. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered back and you could hear him twist and turn for a couple of moments before he found a comfortable spot to sleep in. Smiling you also settled in, pulling the blankets tight around you to not let the cold of the room seep into your cocoon. While thinking of what you would do tomorrow, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning the unforgiving light of the sun reflected by the snow outside tickled your nose to slowly wake you up from your dreamless sleep but you really weren’t ready to let go of the comfort that a good night’s sleep had given you. It was just too cozy beneath the layers of blankets, the warmth of another person seeping into your bones while outside the cocoon it was cold. Wait. Warmth of another person? That had you wake up way faster than you would have liked, your own body going rigid in the hold Yangyang had on you. “Finally woke up?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual and raspy from sleep. “Y... Yeah,” you hummed, scared to turn around to look at your best friend. “Why are we cuddling?” “Because someone wouldn’t stop hogging all the blankets, leaving me out in the cold to sleep,” Yangyang said matter-of-factly, his breath hitting your neck. Looking around you, you couldn’t help but chuckle, you really had balled up so much of the blanket on your side of the bed in your sleep that part of it had dropped to the floor on your side. “You laugh but I was freezing my ass off half the night,” your best friend nagged. “I’ll make it up to you with breakfast?” “Omelets?” “You’re going to help cutting veggies?” “Nope,” Yangyang said, popping the p-sound out loud. “You’re terrible.” “You left me to freeze!” “Fine,” you groaned and wiggled yourself free from his grip, leaving the warmth of his embrace and the blankets, “But you’re doing the dishes after.” “Sure.”

For the first time today, you turned around to look at Yangyang and you really weren’t prepared for his tousled hair and lazy smile. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest before it made a couple of summersaults. “Morning,” he grinned, burying himself back into the blankets. “Yeah... Good morning...” “Take your time, I’ll shower in a bit,” Yangyang yawned and you couldn’t hold back your own which in turn made him laugh. “Don’t take too long, lazy,” you smiled before quickly freshening up in the bathroom and starting to prepare the breakfast you hast promised.

Somewhere between filling two pans with the eggs and adding the cut up vegetables, your best friend joined you in the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower and your heart yet again did acrobatics in your chest. What was wrong with you? This was just Yangyang. Your best friend. You had slept in the same room countless of times. You had made him breakfast even more times because he was not to be trusted in the kitchen. So why was your heart all jumpy around him now? Had Donghyuck been right? But nothing between Yangyang and you had changed. You always cuddled up together when you binge watched shows together or had movie nights with your other friends.

“What’s up with you today?” Yangyang asked once you had slid the omelets on two plates and put down a steaming mug of coffee for each of you. “Nothing,” you quickly tried to reassure him but the way he raised up one of his brows was sign enough that he didn’t believe you. “It’s really nothing,” you tried again, forcing a smile onto your face that really wasn’t all that hard to maintain when looking at Yangyang, “I was just thinking about where we should go for our walk.” Your friend just hummed around a mouthful of eggs and pulled out his phone. “I looked something up,” he slurred before swallowing down what he had been chewing, “If we follow this trail, it will take us around the lake which should be frozen and eventually to a little town. If the ice is solid enough, there’s a shop where we can rent skates. And if it’s not we can just stroll around town. To go back, we can take the shorter way back along the road we came with the car.” “I like that,” you admitted as you scrolled through the website Yangyang had pulled up on his phone. The prices weren’t so bad and the scenery looked breathtaking. “Let’s do that,” you concluded, giving your best fried a bright smile.

Even bundled up in your thickest jacket and with a big scarf wrapped around your throat, the cold air outside of the cabin was unforgiving. But somehow you really liked how clean the air was as it prickled through your lungs before you exhaled again, your breath coming out in a little white huff. “I didn’t think it would be so cold, wow,” Yangyang mused as he locked the cabin before walking over to you. “I like it,” you smiled, “Which way?” But instead of an answer all you got from your best friend was a snowball thrown at you, hitting you square in the chest as you turned around to him. “Oh you’re so on,” you grinned, immediately ducking down to scoop some snow up yourself to fire right back. Your loud giggles and shouts filled the otherwise quite air of the forest and you didn’t even feel the cold of the snow and the air seeping into your bones and clothes, all you focused on was to get Yangyang back for knocking your hat off of your head when the face definitely should be off limits. “You little shit,” you yelled, running over to him to dunk his face into the big pile of snow that had gathered in front of the cabin when suddenly you stepped onto a plate of ice, making you lose your footing and the world quickly turned sideways.

You heard Yangyang yell your name before his worried face came back into your field of vision. “Shit, are you okay?” “Yeah, fine,” you crooked out. The fall really had knocked all air out of your lungs and who were you kidding, you would probably get a nasty bruise on your leg from where you had fallen on the unforgiving ice. “Hey, careful,” Yangyang said, taking your hands in his to pull you back to your feet. “Fuck,” you cursed when you put weight on your left leg, pain shooting up all the way up to your back, “I don’t think I can stand.” “Shit, left foot?” You simply nodded and gritted your teeth together as he tried to help you up again, immediately stabilizing you, so you didn’t have to put weight on your injured leg. “I’m sorry,” you muttered as he helped you to waddle back over to the cabin. Great. Now you had not only ruined your day but maybe even your whole short holidays. Yangyang for sure hadn’t wanted to be stuck inside this cabin with you for two more days. “Don’t be. Let’s take a look at that, might be broken or something,” your best friend reassured you.

With awkward little hops, he guided you over to the little sofa in the living room where you had been cuddling all evening yesterday. “Let me take a look.” After shedding your jackets and other gear you had worn to shield yourselves from the cold, Yangyang carefully unlaced your boots with nimble fingers, apologizing every time you winced in pain. “Well fuck. This thing is so swollen,” he announced once boot and sock were off of your foot. “How bad?” You asked with your eyes squeezed shut, not daring to take a look at it. “Hold still,” he instructed you, gently touching the swollen ankle to rotate it carefully which tore a whimper from your lips. “I don’t think it’s broken,” Yangyang eventually announced, “Ten has sprained his ankle during practice before and it looked similar, so I don’t think we need to get you to a hospital right now.” Thank god that your best friend was taking those dancing classes. “On a scale from when you burned your hand while trying to cook ramyeon in milk to whatever your roommate once left in that pot for too long, how gross does it look?” “It’s really not that bad yet,” Yangyang giggled before he let out a fake gag, “Please do not remind me of that pot, it’s a wonder that whatever that was had not grown legs and left the pot on its own accord.”

“Hold my hand,” you demanded, making grabby hands at your best friend where he was sat in front of you on the floor. “You big baby, it’s really not that bad. It’s not even bruised yet,” he laughed but took your hand in his anyways, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Finally opening your eyes, you took in the picture: You ankle was definitely fucked. If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess that it had already swollen to at least three times of its usual size and pulsating with the blood that was rushing to the surface. “Disgusting.” “If we cool it enough and keep it still, everything should be fine,” Yangyang reassured you, giving your hand another squeeze and rubbing your leg with his other hand, “You’re all tensed up. Does anything else hurt?” “My whole leg?” You slowly said but it came out more as a question than anything else. “Let me see.” “What do you mean let me see?” You all but screeched, pulling back your hand to clutch them at your chest instead where your heart was beating in quick succession. “Come on, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in a bathing suit or anything. I just want to make sure it’s just the ankle,” he calmed you down. Why was your heart beating so fast anyways? Yangyang was right. You had seen each other in different states of undress over all the years you had already been friends. But for some reason everything felt different in this secluded little cabin in the middle of nowhere. It was like you were seeing Yangyang in a completely different light. He was not just the funny guy who only cared about hanging out with his friends and having fun; he suddenly seemed a lot more mature here. Weird. The clean air must have already gotten to your head.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Yangyang spoke again, kneading soothing circles into your still very much tensed calf muscles. “Okay,” you whispered, slowly unbuttoning you jeans, thanking whoever was listening that you had packed and worn nice panties. With combined effort, you wrestled the damp fabric of your jeans from your legs to reveal that your whole left side had already started to bruise up, dark colors bleeding into your skin. “Oh fuck,” you cursed, throwing your head back, “That looks so bad.” You couldn’t help but giggle. “I look like I have been fucking mauled.” “Or like you have a very unhealthy skin condition,” your best friend joined your laughter. But what you couldn’t see was how his eyes darted over the exposed skin, not knowing where he should look first. “I’ll check your knee,” he mumbled once you both had stopped laughing, gently touching your skin. You couldn’t help but hiss when his fingers met your flesh even though he was being gentle. It felt like his fingers left little flames in their wake, leaving your skin tingling. You saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat before he spoke: “Your knee seems fine, but those bruises will turn nasty in an hour or two.” “G-great,” you stuttered, avoiding Yangyang’s eyes while looking down to where his hand was still resting on your knee. “I think I still have some ointment from dance class in my bag that could help,” he mumbled, “I could get that and massage the muscles for a bit in case you pulled something as well.” “Massage,” you repeated, starstruck. “Not if you don’t want to but it might get worse if you’ve pulled a muscle or something if it keeps being this tense.” “I- Yeah. Ok,” you stuttered. “Don’t move.” “Funny,” you grumbled as Yangyang went to fetch his ointment from the bedroom.

“It’s going to be cold,” he warned you when he sat back down in front of you again, lathering up his hands with the strong smelling ointment before he gently pressed down on the muscles of your calf, his fingers working on the knots in your muscle before slowly making their way upwards. You had to bite your lip in order to keep any noise from slipping once his fingers had reached the skin just above your knee. “You’re really tense,” Yangyang mumbled after a while, his fingers itching almost dangerously high on your thigh by now, kneading your sensitive flesh. “Yeah, you’re just. I’m- yeah,” you really didn’t know where you were going with this answer, hyper aware of his fingers on your skin. “Should I stop?” “No, it feels good. It’s just...” “Weird?” “A little,” you admitted, making both of you chuckle awkwardly. “Maybe a little heat would be good as well.” “Y... Yeah.” You really weren’t sure if even less clothes between Yangyang and you would help with whatever this atmosphere between you two was right now. “Let’s get you up and going then,” your best friend smiled and if it was a little less vibrant than it usually was, you chose to ignore it.

Once you were submerged in the warm water, a blissful sound slipped past your lips and you felt all tension that was left in your body leave you, the jets and the warm water effectively relaxing your body and mind. “You good?” Yangyang quietly asked as he submerged himself right next to you, gently pulling your injured leg onto hip lap to prod at the muscles again. “Yeah,” you sighed and closed your eyes, willing your mind to shut up about how he was just your best friend and it should definitively not feel this good when he was innocently kneading your muscles. As all the tenseness seeped from your body, his fingers got more and more gentle until they all but caressed the soft skin of your thigh.

“Yangyang?” You quietly asked after a while when the only sounds between you came from the bubbling of the water and the occasional sound of a bird. Your best friend just hummed to indicate that he had heard you, his fingers stopping to draw random shapes onto your thigh. “Is it weird that I really want to kiss you right now?” At that your friend seemed to freeze, his thigh muscles tensing up where your leg was thrown onto his lap. “N... No, I don’t think so,” he eventually mumbled. “No?” “No. Because I kind of really want to kiss you as well,” he confessed, his dark eyes finding yours and the amount of trust and openness in his eyes momentarily took your breath away. “Then kiss me,” you breathed. “I- I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he replied but inched closer to you anyways. “It won’t,” you promised, gently cupping your best friend’s jaw and stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. “Promise?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise,” you whispered back before you let your eyes flutter closed when your lips finally met in a delicate kiss, barely more than a gently press of lips.

When you separated again, you sighed gently against his lips before pressing another quick peck to them which made your best friend chuckle. “This feels nice,” he whispered. “Not weird?” You asked just to confirm, gently tracing his features with your fingers. “It feels just right.” “Yeah,” you sighed. “More?” Smiling you nodded and connected your lips again, firmer this time but still gently exploring this new territory. Slowly Yangyang seemed to grow more confident and he let his hands settle on your waist to pull you a little closer to him, causing you to softly gasp. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pressing little kisses to your cheeks and the corners of your mouth until you giggled. “Kiss me,” you demanded, wrapping your arms around his neck so your hands could play with the long strands of his hair before kissing him again. By now you almost sat in his lap, the angle a little weird because of how your leg was still thrown over his lap. But none of you seemed to mind as you took all the time of the world to explore each other’s lips.

After a little while Yangyang broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You couldn’t fight your smile, basking in the feeling of being close to him. This close you could count his eyelashes that were stuck together from the water and admire the blush that sat high on his cheekbones. “I really like you,” Yangyang suddenly confessed, pulling your bodies flush together to hide his face in your neck. “I really like you too,” you giggled, running your hands through his damp hair. “No I mean I like like you. I- I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time,” he mumbled against your skin. With how close you were pushed together, Yangyang must definitely feel how hard and fast your heart was hammering in your chest. What he couldn’t see was the big smile that spread on your lips while you were trying to find the right words to tell him that you felt the same, that he was a very special person to you. “You don’t have to like me back,” he suddenly said, tightening his grip on you, “I know you probably only see me as a friend and nothing else. But if I keep this to myself any longer, I might burst. I just- Please don’t hate me. You’re all I have.”

“Yangyang,” you gently spoke, trying to pry his head from your neck. “I don’t have any courage left to look you in the face as you reject me,” he whined when he wasn’t budging, this grip he had on your waist tightening just a little. “I’m not going to reject you.” “You’re not?” Your best friend immediately straightened up, his face full of surprise. “No,” you chuckled and couldn’t resist to press a quick kiss to his lips, “I think I’m in love with you as well.”

For a while Yangyang didn’t say anything, his mouth just wordlessly hanging open and eyes wide. “I mean it,” you giggled, playfully hitting his shoulder, “Say something, idiot.” “I- I was full on prepared for heartbreak. I didn’t mean to confess until Sunday to not make it awkward. It just. Yeah…” “Why would I reject you?” “You never said anything and whenever I would try to take you out or do something alone with you, you kept inviting the others and simply played my flirting off as a joke.”

Thinking back, you felt like there were scales falling from your eyes when you remembered all the times Yangyang had asked you out to the movies and you had dragged Donghyuck or Renjun with you. Or when you had invited him for movie night and his face fell when he saw Jaemin and Jeno already sitting on your sofa. Or when he had invited you to one of his dance shows and you had marveled about how graceful Ten could dance and he had become all grumpy.

“Holy fuck, I’ve been so oblivious,” you groaned, pillowing your head on his chest that shook with laughter. “I’ll forgive you if you become my girlfriend,” Yangyang gently spoke, combing his hands through your hair. “Yes,” you breathed, your heart fluttering wildly. “Seal it with a kiss?” He didn’t need to say anything else because you quickly pressed your lips together again, hoping Yangyang could feel all your love and you could at least make up for the pain you had caused him.

“Me too,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses, “I love you too, idiot.” “Your idiot,” you grinned. “All mine,” Yangyang smiled brightly. And if you two shared more kisses and sweet giggles beneath the sky in the hot tub next to your cabin, only Mother Nature would know about it.

#yangyang #liu yangyang #wayv #nct #kafenetwork #yangyang fluff #wayv fluff #nct fluff #yangyang imagines #yangyang scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios

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dumdumsun · 4 years ago

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: One more chapter! You guys are a dream, thank you so much for reading ❤️

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, derogatory terms for homosexuality, blood/gore and death/dying

Word Count: 5690

—————————————

Eight: All Die Young

“Um… I think besides everything with Ricky… the night of homecoming was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.”

“With Bradley Lewis’s death.”

“Yeah. I-I mean, it started off as a normal day, a-a great day, actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awaking to a text from Stanley Barber, informing me that he was driving us to school, was a heavenly sight. Almost as heavenly as waking up beside the boy, himself in the near future. Grabbing my phone off its charger, I rolled onto my stomach and texted him back, my feet giddily kicking in the air. It amazed me how he could change my entire demeanor within seconds. I could go from a sniveling baby to a hopping and skipping lovesick fool when it comes to Stan. And I don’t even think he meant to have this much of an effect on me. I wondered if I had the same effect on him? I never really paid much attention to it, just accepted the fact that he would never reciprocate my feelings. Even during that time, I had no idea if we were a couple or just adoring each other. It didn’t matter, though. Stan was finally looking at me the way I wanted him to.

Jacob stared at me with unease as I skipped down the stairs, prancing my way into the kitchen for breakfast. “Mom, (Y/N)’s being weird.” He called out as he opened the front door to leave. Pam hushed him before handing me a plate of food.

“Hush, now, Jacob. Let her be in a good mood for once.”

“For once?” I frowned and sat myself down. Pam smiled over at me and gingerly kissed my forehead as I began eating.

“Yes. For once.”

When I finished eating and readying myself for the day, I received a text message from Stan.

Stan: I’m outside

Me: omw

Pocketing my cell, I called out to my family before stepping outside to see Stan in his car with a grin on his face. “Good morning, lovely!” He called out above his music as I strode up to the vehicle, climbing inside. I gave him my usual greeting before leaning over and kissing his cheek. He chuckled and waited for me to strap myself in before riding down our street. It was clear he was in a good mood, because he let me pick the music for the ride. As Waterloo by ABBA flowed out of the drawn-down car windows, I felt the comforting warmth of his hand latch onto mine. Our combined hands shook to the beat of the music as we happily sang the words to the song. Remember when I said I had only been this happy one other time? This was even better. There were never any consequences to being with Stan, never a dull moment, never a hint of doubt between our bond. I’d never been as close to anyone as I was to him. And now at last, we were even closer in more ways than one.

Stepping onto the school campus, we were no longer strangers. I still walked within my bubble, and I probably always will throughout my life, but from now on there was no need to allow Stan inside. He was planning to be beside me through it all. He wasn’t afraid to be alienated with me any longer, we were to embrace it together. We were going to allow the stares, the whispers, the rumors. Allow them to act as water on a duck’s back. I was proud of him, I was proud of us. Even as I felt the dark brown glare of Ricky Berry trail after the two of us, watching our bashful and lovestruck glances throughout classes, the way we held hands in the halls. I was certain he got the message that I was no longer his, despite the forceful way he claimed me the previous week.

At lunch, I was just about to declare my spot in line when I felt a gentle hold on my arm. Stan, with a warm grin, pulled me away and walked us to an empty table. “Um, Stan, I’d kinda like to eat lunch today.”

“I know, Nugget,” He held up two brown sacks. “I made lunch for the both of us.” The way his grin grew prideful made my heart swell in affection. We sat across from each other as he slid the bag over to me.

“Awe, Stanley, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, though,” He shrugged and watched as I took each item out of the bag and carefully organized them. “So, about homecoming. I was thinking we could make a big deal out of it. If you want to.”

“I totally want to,” I nodded, eyes trained on my task. “What were you planning, beautiful?”

I didn’t miss the bashful blush tinting his cheeks when I snuck a glance up at him. “Uh… Well, I was thinking when I pick you up, we can take, like, a shitload of pictures. Like, just let Aunt Pam go at it. She’ll love it.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And then after the dance, I wanna take you out to eat.”

“Really? Where to?”

“Nothing too fancy. You don’t like all that. I was driving around yesterday and saw this restaurant that specializes in their pasta,” I suddenly felt the tip of my nose being gently pinched. Looking up, Stan was playfully wiggling my nose with a goofy grin on his face. “I know how much you love pasta.”

“I do,” I laughed and swatted his hand away. “And after that? Are we robbing a bank and driving off into the night?”

“If only,” He wistfully sighed. “But alas, I’m afraid we’ll have to remain trapped within Brownsville until we’re old enough to run away.”

I gave a mischievous smirk. “The entire act of running away is rebellious. Why wait until we’re allowed?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t feel like running away,” We shared a laugh. “But in all seriousness, we go to my house and just chill. We can have a dance contest. Our last was a tie, remember?”

The antsy excitement rushed through my veins the closer the night approached. I was never one for making a scene about school dances, but this time was different. It was my senior year, I had Stan, Ricky was out of the picture. Or at least, he was for the next hour. After lunch, Stan walked me to photography class, the two of us hand-in-hand as we had been for the entire day. Approaching the door, he wished me a good class before leaning in and pecking my lips. Our fingertips lingered as he pulled away and continued to his own class. Feeling my burning cheeks, I turned to go into the room, but an arm blocked my path. “Hey, Zip.”

Inwardly groaning, I looked up at Ricky. His bruises were beginning to fade, the dark ring around his right eye taking its time to heal. I silently hissed at the sight of him. “What.”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize. Brad talked to me the other day and… made me realize that what I did was really fucked up. Really, babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You’re so fucking lucky I haven’t called the police on you, Ricky-”

“Yes, I know,” He sighed, discreetly rolling his eyes. “And I really appreciate it. Gives me a chance to better myself, you know? Help you better yourself. And what better way to make up for what I did than to make homecoming the most magical night for you? Yeah? We still on for tonight?”

My eyes dangerously widened at his hopeful smile, his expression melting under my fiery stare. “Are you kidding me?! Hell no! You think I wanna be anywhere near you?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“Besides, I already have another date.” I shrugged and moved to duck under his arm, but he leaned against the doorframe to decline me access inside. I quickly backed away from him, my fear kicking in at his brash behavior.

“What, Stan The Faggot? You’re really going with that fucking twink when you could be going with me?” He laughed right in my face. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.

“Don’t ever speak about Stanley that way. He’s the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met and is an even better boyfriend than you’ll ever be to anyone-”

“Boyfriend?!” He cackled. “I knew it. How could I not? It was so obvious! You’re fucking crazy.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t see the way he dresses? He’s fucking weird, (Y/N). He’s a goddamn drug dealer. What is he gonna offer you? Huh? Free weed? Babe… Come on, you are so better off with me.”

He lightly shook his head with a smile of disbelief as I took out my phone. “I just remembered. You’re not supposed to be near me, talking to me, or even looking at me. I think Jacob would love to hear about this-”

“Fuck you.” Ricky hissed before stomping away, leaving me in an empty hallway that was filled with the ringing of the tardy bell not too long afterwards. At that point, I was just about sick of guys. I was irritable during gym class, running off my anger and letting it steam off my shoulders. When the coach told us we could stop, I took greedy gulps of air and trudged to a nearby bench to rest. As I plopped down, I noticed Syd and Dina walking together to the opposite side of the field. It was good to know they were to finally talk everything out. Now for her and Stan to make up…

I was thankful for a split second for the shadow that casted over the burning sun raining down on me, but huffed upon seeing who it was. Some guy from my math class stood before me. He was shirtless, displaying his six-pack and chest glistening with sweat. He beamed down at me with a suave smirk. “Hey, Zip.”

“Hey.”

“So… I know you and Ricky are… you know. So, since the dance is tonight-”

“Sorry, I already have a date.”

“Right,” He nodded slowly, beginning to back away. “I should’ve known. No worries.”

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

“And he just walked away?!” Stan laughed on our drive home from school. My hold on his hand tightened as I tried to hold in my own laugh.

“No, he ran away!” I snorted, triggering the increase of his laughter.

“What is that, the fourth guy today?”

“Don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes as he pulled up to my house. Unbuckling myself, I froze at Stan’s intentuous stare. He reached over and grabbed my hand again, raising it to his lips.

“I expect you to dazzle everyone like you usually do.” He kissed my knuckles.

My breath hitched. “Of course. And I expect you to do better than me, like you usually do. What time should I be ready?”

“I’m picking you up at eight. On the dot.”

“On the dot, got it.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He returned it and tilted his head to try and deepen it, but I pulled away with a giggle. Stan watched in awe as I got out of the car, snatching up my backpack as I did. Waving him off, I turned and headed inside my house.

I had to look perfect. Not just for Stan, but for me. This was a new era of myself, I had shedded my skin and materialized as something beautiful. I had to showcase just how beautiful I’ve become. So, after my shower, I struck up a playlist and dolled myself up. Starting off with my hair, I simply pinned it up with white butterfly hair clips. My makeup was nothing special, other than the baby pink eyeshadow and the small application of glitter over it. To seal up the look, I added cherry lip gloss to give my lips a bit of a pop. I hoped Stan would appreciate it. My face burned at the thought of him tasting the cherry on my mouth. Backing away from my mirror before I exploded, I entered my closet. My dress was something I never thought I would ever wear. It matched my makeup in baby pink. An off-the-shoulder look that hugged my torso and flared out to the floor. I managed to zip it up myself before slipping on a pair of white heels. Turning to my reflection, I let out a breath.

I had never looked any more beautiful, I think. I remember gazing at my parents’ wedding photo as a child and wishing to look as beautiful as my mother one day. I wondered if she was looking down at me, proud of who I had become at that point. Gazing fondly down at the ring on my pinky, I blinked back the stinging of my tears.

Yeah, she’s proud.

An eager three knocks sounded at my door and I hurried to open it. Pam immediately teared up the moment her eyes settled on me, camera ready in her hand. “Oh, my baby… You look so gorgeous! Just like your mom!” She gushed. I could only chuckle as she took multiple pictures of me. Hearing a taunting laugh, I looked down the hall to see Jacob leaning against the wall, silently mocking his mother’s excitement. I kindly showed my middle finger to him, much to Pam’s disappointment. “Oh, come on. Now it’s in the picture! Jake, leave your sister alone!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He feigned innocence and batted his eyelashes at me. I playfully sneered at him before David’s voice sounded from downstairs.

“(Y/N), Stan is here!”

Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. Eight o’clock. On the dot. That punctual bastard. Clutching my phone in my hand, I nervously made my way to the top of the stairs. Everyone was waiting for me at the bottom, including Stan. God, he looked so cute. He was wearing his baby blue suit, some sort of black and tan shirt beneath that oddly went well with the suit. Leave it to Stan to defy the laws of fashion. I could tell he paid extra care to his hair, the way it was styled perfectly for his curls to sit off to the left side of his forehead. I was sure I was grinning like a maniac as I descended the stairs, but Stan’s expression was the reason I was grinning. He looked absolutely astonished and at a loss for words. His jaw was dropped and eyes were bulging as he watched me walk closer to him. When I quietly greeted him, he couldn’t even respond. Great job, (Y/N), you broke him.

“How’d I do?” I whispered and hooked arms with him. At my touch, he snapped out of his haze and beamed at me.

“You certainly did not disappoint, lovely.”

“Awe, and you aren’t looking too bad yourself, beautiful.”

Pam squealed from the sidelines before rushing over to us. “Stanley, doesn’t she look stunning?”

“Absolutely, Aunt Pam.” He grinned at the older woman as she began taking photo after photo of us. We decided to indulge her and pose for each one. All the while, I felt a red hot glare from the side. Glancing its way, I noticed Jacob fuming at the sight of Stan and I hugged up on each other. His Big Brother Mode was going to activate the second Pam was done with us. To my horror, she finished sooner than I thought. As she excitedly showed our photos to David, I watched as Jacob slowly approached us. Just as he opened his mouth to spit some sort of threat towards the poor, unsuspecting Stan, I turned to the front door and flung it open.

“Well, we really have to go! We’re already late, you know.” I chuckled and gently shoved Stan out of the house.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Pam called out after us. “You two be careful out there! And have fun!”

“And (Y/N)-” Jacob began to add in a warning, but I waved him off, mouthing an ‘I know’ as Stan scrambled to hold the car door open for me. I quietly thanked him and climbed inside. The car ride to the dance was very pleasant. The hum of soft rock music fit the mood of our night as we quietly sang along. Stan found a parking spot rather quickly and leaned back in his seat after turning the car off. Bringing the visor down, I checked myself in the mirror, gently running my fingers over my white gold hoop earrings gifted to me by my dad for my previous birthday. They were pretty expensive and I hardly wore them, so why not? Hearing a click, I turned to see Stan lighting up a joint. After he took a hit, he looked my way and smiled, offering it to me. Without any hesitation, I joined him in a quick session. As I took my third hit, I felt his eyes on me.

“What?” I raised a brow and exhaled the smoke. His eyes shown in adoration.

“What a sight you are…”

“A sight? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re sitting in my old-school car, looking like a goddess and smoking a joint. You’re so beautiful… Just perfection.”

“Jeez, maybe I should get dolled up to smoke more often.” I joked and handed it back to him. We shared a chuckle before Stan put the smoke out. He gave me a wink before getting out of the car and rounding it to let me out.

Our highs kicked in the moment we stepped into the gymnasium. Our clammy hands found each other as we walked further in. I let him lead me through the sea of dancing bodies and bouncing balloons, the two of us hitting them out of our way as we ended up near the bleachers. When we stopped, we overlooked the scene before us as I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Best theater in town, Stan.”

“Best theater in town, (Y/N),” He looked down at me with furrowed brows. “So, why aren’t you on stage?”

“I don’t perform without my co-star.”

“Well, in that case.” He took hold of both my hands and swung us around. At that, we let loose, broadcasting our best secret dance contest moves to anyone willing to watch. I thought it was perfect. The two outcasts, both outcasts for difference reasons, wildly dancing together away from everyone else. And yet, they were the life of the party. It was meant to be. My feet stung from the stomping and jumping I was doing in my heels, but I couldn’t care less.

“I fucking hate this song!” I joyfully shouted, eliciting a laugh from my date.

“Me, too!” From the sound of our laughter, it was clear the two of us were high. Three songs later, in the middle of my rounds of spinning, I felt Stan’s hands on my waist, attempting to stop me. When I did, my surroundings rotated around me and I leaned into him for support. Looking up, I saw Sydney awkwardly smiling at the both of us.

“Oh! Hey, Syd! I love your dress.” I smiled and gestured to her attire. Her smile widened.

“Thanks, (Y/N), y-you look great.”

“Awe, thanks.” I gushed and bashfully waved her off. My attention turned to Stan, who had a look of indifference on his face, but a hint of pain in his eyes. Sydney noticed it, too, and looked back at me.

“Uh… Can I borrow Stan for a second?”

“Go ahead.” I motioned. Stan stared at me for a second before following Syd onto the bleachers. I suddenly felt very out of place, so I decided to keep my hands busy and get myself some punch. Thankfully, I found Dina there, pouring herself a cup. When she noticed me, she quickly set it back down on the table and reached her arms out for a hug. “Dina, you look so good!”

“Are you kidding me?!” We engulfed each other in a tight hug before pulling away. “You look fucking amazing! You always have to show out, huh?”

“I try…” I lowered my voice. As the two of us talked, lonely guys would come up to us and ask to dance, but we would hold hands and politely decline. After the third walked away, Dina turned to me.

“Hey, so… In detention… The thing that Jenny said about Ricky. Was that true…?” The hesitancy in her voice made me deeply inhale as I nodded in confirmation. Instantly, her eyes welled up with tears as her hands covered her mouth. “(Y/N)... I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve been there for you.”

“No, no, Dina!” I quickly took her hands into mine, my heart wrenching. “It’s okay! I’m okay…”

“You’re okay? H-How are you okay?” She frowned and blinked back her tears. A warm smile twitched its way onto my face.

“Stan… he’s been making everything better…” I admitted. Dina’s face lit up before she hugged me all over again.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! I’m so happy for you! God, you fucking deserve it, girl!” She exclaimed as I hugged back, quietly laughing at her excitement. Our hug was cut short, when Dina caught sight of our dates heading toward us. I turned to them and happily watched as they approached us, their hands lazily clasped together. Sydney held out Stan’s hand over to mine and I gladly took over. “Stan!” Dina grinned at him as he allowed me to lean against his side.

“Dina, you look, um… you look like a Christmas tree.” He awkwardly complimented as I rolled my eyes. Dina looked down at herself.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded before his eye caught something. “Oh, god. Whitaker’s still watching us.” He sighed. We directed our gaze to our principal, who indeed was standing across the gym, arms folded and a piercing gaze on the four of us.

“It’s probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in his entire life.” Sydney crossed her arms, as well, as we all grinned. Stan leaned forward and placed his other hand over ours as he hummed.

“I don’t know, guys. I mean, we’re wanted criminals. Why are we out here in the open? Exposed. First rule of the heist is split the loot and split the fuck up, right?”

“We don’t have any loot, Stan.” I raised a brow in false confusion as Dina smirked at me.

“Yeah, all we did was disrespect this fine institution.”

“And disrespect ourselves.” Sydney finished, Stan humming again before we all shared a soft laugh. Stan’s smile disappeared as a slow song came on. I barely recognized it, but he sure seemed to know it. His free hand reached up to cover his eyes.

“Oh, no. On principle, I just- I can’t,” He groaned and began to free himself from my grasp. “Sorry, this playlist is all over the map. I’ll- I’ll be back.” He squeezed between Syd and I to leave, but I followed right behind. He was nearly at the DJ table, when I managed to stop his striding.

“Stan! Stan, wait!” I laughed and turned him to me. “Come on, I wanna dance to this.”

“(Y/N), I have to enlighten that poor DJ over there.”

“After this song?” I pouted and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t care about the music. I’ll dance to anything with you.”

“That is a lie, but fine,” He sighed before his hands rested on my waist. Our dance started off with timid shuffling, Stan clearly not used to slow dancing. I chuckled and directed his eyes away from his shoes.

“Stan, it’s just swaying, I promise.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look before moving with me to the music. Of course, since it’s Stan, he had to add in a few spins that had us stumbling. We laughed aloud when we almost toppled over, and we earned a few weird stares, but we didn’t give a shit. Just as it seemed we were getting the hang of it, a voice that rang throughout the gym interrupted the song and dance.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr File announced from the stage. “If I may have your attention. Stop talking. Look up here please.”

“Thank god, they stopped the song.” Stan whispered in my ear as we turned to the stage. I playfully and gently hit his chest as our teacher continued.

“It is my privilege to introduce your homecoming king and queen, Jeff Butters and Julie Frasheski!”

As the homecoming royalty hopped on stage, we all clapped and cheered for them, Stan and I exchanging looks that said ‘I have no idea who these people are’. “What up, Westinghouse!” Jeff exclaimed into the microphone, his queen by his side, the both of them wearing sashes and crowns. “Yeah! Where my boys at? Whoo! Where do I begin? I wanna thank my mom for meeting my dad-”

His amusing speech was cut off by Bradley Lewis running onstage and clamping his hand over the mic. “Listen up!” He yelled as the feedback screeched. Our smiles dropped as he swayed, clearly drunk. As Mr File tried to take the mic from him, he thrashed about and moved away. “Give me a second! I would like to take this moment to talk about something very important that affects everyone here.”

“What the fuck…?” I muttered and watched as he turned to the middle of the crowd.

“Sydney Novak!” His exclamation sent a flinch through Stan and I, and I felt him tense under my hold on his arm. “Hey, Sydney! Raise your hand! Raise your hand! Give a wave so everybody can see you!” When she didn’t comply, he moved on, proceeding to pull out Sydney’s supposed diary and flipping through it, exposing all of her secrets to the whole school. He told about how at Ricky’s party, she had kissed Dina upstairs. As he spoke, he hopped off the stage and pushed past people to stalk closer to his victim, the path to her and Dina made clear. I could see the panic in Sydney’s eyes. My blood boiled at the derogatory term he used for her sexuality, but Stan was just about ready to pop. His jaw was severely clenched and his face was flushed red in anger. I felt him move forward, but kept an arm in front of him. But there was no holding him back after the next thing Brad exposed. “And my god, don’t even get me started on the daddy issues on this one. I mean, it’s fucking worse than Zip’s! And we all know about that!” That comment punched me straight in the gut and Stan ripped his arm from my hold, pushing his way through the crowd. “Everyone in Sydney’s life thinks that she’s a piece of shit. And I mean everyone!” His cackling was interrupted when Stan broke through everyone.

“Hey, man! Leave her alone!” He went to stand in front of his friend, but Brad immediately swung, his fist connecting with Stan’s face and sending him to the ground, unconscious. My breathing stuttered before I wordlessly shoved everyone out of the way, trying to get to his limp form. There were a few people separating us that wouldn’t budge. I growled as Brad continued, shaking his fist from the blow.

“But that is not even the weirdest thing about Sydney… Novak,” He took a few steps forward, and I watched as Sydney wiped a tear from her eye. This whole situation was fucked. “Get this. Sydney claims that she has-”

To this day, I have no fucking clue how it happened, but Brad’s words were cut short when his blood and brains exploded onto everyone near him. Including me. I heard nothing but white noise the second the blood platter smacked into my hair, onto my face, my dress, my shoes. Brad’s headless body fell limp to the ground, the remaining of his brains spilling out from where his head should have been. His head should’ve been there… His head should be there! I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. My eyes were glued to the bloodied corpse on the ground. I was sure everyone was screaming and running around, but I couldn’t do the same. I saw shaking Dina’s form, trembling as she moved, but my focus snapped right back to the fucking corpse. I should’ve moved. I should’ve screamed. I should’ve ran. I should have been crying and gagging and panicking, but I just… I couldn’t. I don’t know what the fuck.

“(Y/N)!” I felt a hand pulling me by the arm, but I was in such a state of shock that I blindly let whoever drag me out of the school- no, the crime scene. I felt the cool air nip at my exposed skin, but I still couldn’t have been bothered to react to anything. It wasn’t until I felt a piece of bloody meat slip down my face and disappear into my dress that I could breathe again. I let out a blood-curdling scream as I felt it run down my skin.

“It’s in my dress! It’s touching me!” I cried. The mess of curls in front of me whipped around to face me. Through my teary-eyed vision, I could make out that it was Stan. He was awake, he was fine. But I wasn’t.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!”

“It’s in my fucking dress!” I gagged as I felt it run down my stomach. “Stan, a piece of his fucking brain-”

He firmly grabbed me by the shoulders and rushed me to his car. I hyperventilated as he placed me in the passenger seat. Before closing the door, he reached into my dress from the bottom and slid his hand from my knees, past my thighs and planted his palm on my stomach. He gagged when his hand touched the meat, grabbing hold of it and ripping his hand from my dress, throwing the flesh to the ground. Stumbling a bit, he shut my door and rounded the car to drive. I had to ride with my window down, letting the wind blow against my face to prevent the contents in my stomach from resurfacing into Stan’s car. He drove all around town, calling out for Sydney. He would glance over at me every once and awhile when I would gag or groan, but that was it.

What a sight I was.

Do I look beautiful now, Stan?

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

When Stan decided to give up on the search for Sydney, he sped us to his house. The sirens of police cars and ambulances echoed within my empty mind. But the moment I left the car, I hurled my guts up into Stan’s yard. He caught me before I could fall and rubbed my back until I emptied my stomach. Then when I was done, I did the same for him.

I had no concept of time, I can’t remember how long we were throwing up in his front lawn, but when we were done, he guided me inside the house and down to his room. The second he let go of me to retrieve new clothes, my entire body trembled and shook uncontrollably. “S-Stan… S-S-Stan.” I whimpered out. He returned to me with clothes tucked under one of his arms. He held me by the elbow and guided me to his bathroom, sitting me down on the toilet lid before starting up the shower for me.

“Nugget? Hey, do you want me to-”

“N-No.” I don’t know why I said that. I needed him in that room with me. He was patient enough to look away as I undressed, nearly falling a few times, and stepped into the shower. He left the door slightly ajar, so I was sure he could hear my sobbing as I sat down, letting the water rinse me of Bradley Lewis’s blood and guts.

I returned to Stan in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He stood from his bed and carefully watched the way I moved. The way I slowly blinked and walked two steps at a time toward him. Silently, he lifted his covers for me to lay down. I stared at him emptily for a few beats before complying, my back facing him. I felt his lips on my neck and gladly welcomed the kiss before he whispered into my ear, “I’m gonna shower now, okay? I won’t be long.”

“Go ahead.” I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. As Stan showered, my shaking hands reached up and freed my locks from my hair clips. I tried to keep my crying near-silent as I did so, but I wasn’t too sure how loud I was being. Within time, he had returned and laid down beside me in bed. And from the warmth I felt when his back touched mine, I could tell he was shirtless. It was painfully silent as we both unevenly breathed. I bit my fingers to keep myself from crying again. Everything about me felt unbalanced. I wanted to be beaten even. It’s what I deserved for not taking care of myself.

“Hey.” Stan’s whisper broke my train of thought.

“H-Hey…”

“You asleep?”

“No… You?”

“No.” He muttered as I felt the bed dip when he turned around to spoon me. His leg draped over mine as his arms pulled me closer. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as he deeply inhaled. I closed my eyes and willed myself to ask the question brewing in my mind,

“Do you have any idea what the fuck happened? B-Brad just… h-he fucking…”

“I know,” He murmured against my skin, his hold tightening as well as his throat. I could tell by the way he choked on his breath. “I… I’ll explain it another day. N-Not tonight.”

As we fell asleep an hour later, I knew he’d never explain it.

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @magicalgothpandamaker

#i am not okay with this #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt #ianowt x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #forever and never

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kyber-crystal · 4 years ago

Text

department of matchmaking || s.r

summary: in which you’re asked by aunt may to babysit peter while she’s away at a business conference & steve tags along. peter, being the innocent smol bean he is, tries to get you and the Captain together.

words: ~3.1k

warnings: none, just fluff & a little matchmaking spider-man :) and OH steve’s blue jacket heheh. tony’s your dad in this oop cant resist a stark child. shhh CW never happened bc i’m still in denial

Peter: Aunt May says she has a couple errands to run so she won't be back until later this afternoon. Can you pick me up? School just ended.

You: Of course!

Peter: Ned and I are planning on building the Lego Death Star tonight. I know you're a sucker for building stuff :)

You: You know me so well, kiddo. I'm definitely in. How could I miss out on our weekly date nights?

Peter: You're the best! See you soon

You: See you!

"Where are you going?"

"May's busy, so I gotta go pick Peter up from school," you explained to Steve as you slung your purse over your shoulder and grabbed the keys to your (Tony's) Audi, sliding your sunglasses on. "We're having one of our weekly Friday movie nights, and he and Ned just got a new Lego set that they want me to help construct. You wanna come along?"

"Sure, I don't mind."

You headed outside to the car together, sticking the keys into the ignition as Steve slid in next to you in the passenger's seat. "I hope you don't have anything else planned for the rest of tonight. We might be there for a while...I know we were gonna see that new action movie in theaters tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Nope, no plans," he smiled, "I'm free for the rest of this weekend. As long as I get to spend time with you, it's okay."

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a bit at his words.

But you quickly brushed the thought off, knowing the last thing you were supposed to do was fall for someone after you'd just gotten over a nasty breakup.

Soon enough, you pulled up in front of Midtown High School and saw Peter standing with Ned by the curb. You rolled the window down and called out to them. "Hey, boys. Need a ride?"

"My favorite Avenger! Hi!" Ned greeted as he and Peter got into the backseat, strapping their seatbelts on.

"Ouch, I'm offended," Steve placed a hand over his chest and pretended to look hurt. "I thought I was your favorite?"

"Captain America! It's an honor!" he exclaimed. "I've heard so much about you from Peter!"

"Oh, really? I hope he only told you good things?" the super-soldier chuckled.

"Yup!"

"So, how was school?" you glanced back at the two teenagers from the rearview mirror. "Anything interesting happen?"

"No, except they actually served something edible in the cafeteria for lunch today," Peter rolled his eyes. "Which is a first."

You sighed, placing your hand back on the wheel, "School food isn't the best thing ever."

"So uh, I have a question," Ned spoke up as you headed down the street, "are you and Y/N a...thing? ‘Cause I hear a lot of fans are speculating that the kickass agent and America’s golden boy are dating."

"What? No," you and Steve replied in unison, exchanging a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "No."

"Okay..."

It was mostly quiet for the rest of the car ride back to the apartment. Peter pulled out the keys from his jacket pocket and slid it in the lock, pushing the door open and gesturing for the rest of you to come inside.

"So," he breathed out, setting his backpack down by the front door and dusting his hands off. You sat around the sofa together, glancing at the massive Lego set on the coffee table. "Here it is, in all its glory."

"How many pieces is this?" Steve questioned, looking at it in shock.

"Almost 4000."

A buzzing sound from his phone made Peter look down, swiping a few times before unlocking it and scanning over the new notification.

"May has an overnight business conference and she won't be back until tomorrow evening. She wants you to babysit," he explained as he looked up at you.

"Fine by me," you shrugged. "Cap?"

"Sure, why not."

"But I'm 15 and 8 months! I'm not a baby."

"Well, kiddo, I'm 28 and Tony treats me like a baby even though I’m not a baby anymore. Steve's going on 32, and acts like he's 12."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"Arguing like a married couple," Peter coughed, and Ned wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Cute."

"For the last time, we're not a thing," you let out an exasperated sigh, but felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you spoke.

Two hours later you were a little over halfway done with building the Death Star, and fatigue was beginning to catch up with you after you neglected your sleep schedule and pulled three all-nighters in a row bingeing Netflix with Sam.

You let out a yawn as you flipped through the instructions pamphlet, stretching your arms up in the air.

"You tired?" Steve asked. You were too tired to respond, simply leaning into him and closing your eyes.

"You can take her to the guest room. Straight down the hall, then turn right," Peter said as he noticed you'd now fallen asleep on him. "We can continue this after dinner."

Steve scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you down the hall, pushing the door to the guest room open with one hand before carefully setting you down on the bed, tucking you in.

"Sleep tight," he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and left.

"Ahem. Now that she's gone," Ned cleared his throat, "time to plan on how we're supposed to get our OTP together!"

"Ned, really-"

"You should ask her out, Cap. I see the way you look at her," Peter raised an eyebrow at him, "I mean, it's clear to everyone how you feel about her, and the way she feels about you. Sam sees it, Mr. Stark sees it, heck, I think May has her suspicions as well because she wouldn't stop talking about how great of a couple you two would be over dinner last night-"

"Look, Peter, I don't think she's ready for a relationship."

"Why not?"

"She just broke up with her boyfriend two months ago. I doubt she'd be willing to date again."

"But you're her best friend! You're literally the perfect man for her!"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not taking advantage of someone when they're vulnerable. That isn't right."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up against the coffee table, tossing a spare Lego piece up and down in one hand. "Yeah, I totally believe the great Captain America isn't in love with the great Y/N."

"She's my friend. A teammate."

"Friends with benefits!" Ned chimed in. Steve made a face at this. "No, not like that. I mean that as in, you guys do all the things that regular couples do, except you're not officially a couple. And I think that's big enough of an indication that you should get together for real."

"I'm just waiting for the right time."

"AHA!" both boys shouted. "So you are in love with her!"

"Keep it down!" he scolded. "She's asleep!"

"You didn't deny it this time..."

"Fine, whatever. What do you guys want for dinner? I'll go pick it up."

"Pizza."

"If Y/N asks where I am, just tell her I went to go get the food."

"Okay."

As soon as the door shut behind Steve, Peter and Ned's heads immediately whipped over and they faced each other, exchanging evil grins.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ned practically squealed.

"Yeah, I'm thinking what you're thinking!"

"Romantic dinner and movie night setup!" both boys whooped and hollered.

"I'll light the candles and get the napkins. May always keeps a stock of scented ones when Y/N comes over because she loves the smell of cherry blossoms."

"...I'll grab the rose petals and tablecloth."

"Rose petals?"

"Mind if I tear apart the flower on your desk?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Also, the regular tall candles are in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom."

"Yessir."

Twenty minutes later, Steve came back with the pizza in hand, setting the keys on the counter and closing the door, stopping dead in his tracks as he observed the scene before him.

"What is going on?"

"We set up a date night for you two because we know you've been working hard this past week and deserved to relax," Peter explained happily. "So, here you go!"

"Peter," Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I appreciate your effort, but Y/N isn't ready for a relationship and neither one of us has feelings for the other."

"But you guys deserve a break! After working nonstop you should at least rest or something."

"Alright, alright. I'll go get Y/N. You guys set the pizza on the plates for everyone, okay?"

"Got it."

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then stretched your arms up into the air, skidding to a halt as you observed the sight before you.

“Wh...what’s going on?”

Peter and Ned grinned from where they sat on the couch, paper plates on their laps. “We thought you deserved a nice break, so we set up a little something for you guys!”

“A romantic dinner? Why...”

"It looks pretty and gives off a relaxing mood. Why else?” Peter laughed nervously. “Now eat!”

“Okay...” you started growing suspicious, but didn’t question it, “alright, then.”

You fell into an awkward silence after that, aside from the occasional sound of silverware clinking against plates and drink glasses being set back down on the table. The atmosphere felt heavier than before and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was.

“So, uh...how have you been holding up?” Steve asked you tentatively. He knew the topic of your ex-boyfriend was still that of a rather sensitive one - you’d come storming through the elevator doors and gulped down half a bottle of vodka (you never drank, so this had everyone genuinely worried), before heading upstairs and taking a forty-five minute shower, then afterwards, proceeded to lock yourself in your room for the rest of the afternoon.

When you wouldn’t come down for dinner, he had to carry up your food to you and when you refused to eat, he was the one to force-feed you. When you suddenly broke down sobbing when he asked you if you were alright, he was the one who held you in your arms. He was the one who got you out of bed to bring you downstairs for some fresh air and to interact with the others, and not once during the time he was having to take care of you for, did he question any of your behavior. You were hurting and that was all that mattered. If you were hurting, he was hurting, too.

“It’s been a rough eight weeks...” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with one hand as you took a sip of wine. “Could be better, but...I’m alright. I just wish I could’ve seen that coming from the moment I went on that blind date with him.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was confused - you’d never mentioned any details of your relationship, you were a very private person, for that matter. You rarely ever opened up to anyone. “I thought you were...”

“Happy? Hell no, I don’t even know why I stayed,” you scoffed as you took another swing of your drink. “It was so easy to fall into a routine. There was this gaping hole in my heart, and...I needed it to be filled somehow. Then Agent Williams comes along, a seemingly perfect new SHIELD recruit, almost everything a girl could possibly want in a man standing right in front of me...how could I not fall for his façade? I didn’t realize it was doomed from the start until about a week into the relationship...but I held my tongue. I knew if I dared to speak up against him, he’d somehow manage to use my words against me, twist everything I said into a whole new lie...he manipulated me, day after day...yet I still didn’t leave because I genuinely believed he’d change.

“But I was wrong. I was naïve, I stayed because I was so desperate to experience true happiness that I went as far as to stay with someone I knew would do a number on my mental health in the long run. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I walked into HQs one day to drop stuff of for Coulson, to see Williams on top of someone else...in the gym. In the gym...of all places. I only didn’t blast him because I didn’t want to destroy Fury’s property. So I slapped him and left. That’s it. This whole...fling, or whatever the hell you want to call this shitty relationship, lasted only twenty-six days before everything fell apart. God, I’m so stupid - I should’ve known. I was so stupid, I’m such a horrible person for doing what-”

Steve felt his blood boil with anger. Williams had cheated on you - that’s why you’d broken up. All this time he’d been thinking that you simply fell out of love, or maybe ended it on friendlier terms - when in fact, it was anything but.

Nobody deserved to be treated this way, especially you. I could treat you much better, he thought to himself.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to wipe the stray tears that fell from your eyes. Instead of letting his hand fall back at his side right away, he let it linger there for a moment, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The feeling sent electricity up his fingers. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person...he is.”

“Shit, I think our plan’s backfiring,” Peter hissed into Ned’s ear as they watched the scene unfold from the couch. “What the fuck, Ned!”

“Shh! Hold on, they’re having a really deep conversation. Let them be for a second.”

“I was stupid enough to stay, when he was giving off all the wrong signs...I should’ve listened to Tony and Nat. They knew. They knew from the moment we first got together, but I didn’t listen...”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know any better,” he reassured you, absentmindedly taking your hand in his and rubbing circles across your palm, “you just wanted to be happy. To experience that feeling that came along with being in a relationship. Frankly, I think I would’ve done the same thing.”

“And what makes me feel even worse,” your voice caught in your throat as you spoke, “...were my true intentions of staying. I wanted to be happy, I really did. But I realized I’d never achieve that with someone like him...in a way, I was using him too, I guess. Not for my personal gain or anything, not to boost my social status, like he did...he always made a point of walking around and declaring that he had an Avenger girlfriend. But...”

“But what?”

“I knew if I was in a relationship with someone, that’d prevent me from thinking about being with anyone else. Well...that plan failed...horribly.”

“...What are you saying?”

“Of course, I didn’t figure that out until not long ago...but yeah. The heart wants what it wants...and it didn’t want him.”

“Then who was it?”

Your gaze flickered down to your now-intertwined fingers. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “...I think you know who it is, Steve.”

“See!” Ned kicked Peter in the shin as he was in the middle of finishing off his second slice, and he winced. “It’s getting saucy!”

“Ow!”

“I think we both know,” Steve murmured.

You let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know why I tried pursuing a relationship that wouldn’t fulfill me in the long run. I should’ve known it was you all along, huh? You know me like the back of your hand. For Odin’s sake, you remembered every detail of my SHIELD file, my favorite color, my exact birth date, everything there is to know about me. It’s always been you-”

“...It broke my heart to see you with someone who wasn’t me,” he said quietly.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like I was meddling in your love life. I know you hate it when people do that.”

“Steve-”

“I knew you weren’t as happy as you let on. I shouldn’t have stayed silent...I should’ve at least said something. I was terrified to speak up, thinking that you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings-”

“You...you what?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “I’m in love with you.”

Peter let out a squeak. Ned chucked a pillow at him, a giddy look on his face.

“Good news,” you laughed, “because I’m in love with you too.”

“FINALLY!” Ned whooped, unable to contain his excitement for any longer. He and Peter exchanged a fist-bump. “FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY! I can’t believe our ship finally sailed! Though I gotta be honest, I had no idea pizza could bring out people’s true feelings like that.”

“We’re geniuses!” Peter squealed, pulling out his phone.. “Oh, wait until Mr. Stark hears about this!”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Peter, don’t you dare c-”

Too late. A buzzing sound came from your phone, alerting you of a new notification, and you unlocked it to see a text from your father.

Mr. Stank😡: Took you long enough, honey. I expect a grandchild soon.

Mr. Stank😡: But I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t want any other man for you than Capsicle himself.

You let out a loud groan, shoving your phone back into your purse. “Oh, come on.”

A buzzing sound came from Steve’s phone as well, and he took it out of his pocket to take a look.

Stark: You better not knock her up until after you get married and then leave. I learned that lesson too late. I’m being serious when I’m telling you to treat her right - she hasn’t been the same since her mother walked out all those years ago. You make her happy, though, so I won’t try to intervene.

Stark: But if you hurt her in any way, I’ll break your face. Capiche?

Steve: ...Capiche.

“Ooh! I just got a promotion for telling him about you guys!” Peter clasped his hands together. “I’m joining you on your next group mission!”

“That’s great, Peter!” you congratulated, “but...why would he give you a promotion for...this?”

“Because he’s been waiting for this to happen for the longest time! Oh and also, your food’s getting cold.”

“We could just reheat it. Or...if you guys are still hungry, do you want to go to Olive Garden?” Steve looked over at the two teenage boys.

“YES.”

“Y/N, what about you?”

“It’s a date,” you winked. You let out a small laugh upon seeing his cheeks flush red.

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you

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blackberry-gingham · 4 years ago

Note

okay so this is probably an extremely weird idea... but high school ah, right? readers a hockey player, paul's a figure skater- i'm a big fan of the beatles and hockey and thought of this so 😅 anyways, love your writings ❤️

SKSKSKALSL LMAOOO this is not a weird ask!! I'm a hockey fan too actually 😂✌🏻 In fact, this use to be a hockey/art blog before I it converted lol. And also, Paul would totally be a figure skater like... I can just see it so clearly lmao.

Oh but before I begin, ik you didn't specify reader's gender here and you guys know I do gender neutral reader when I can, but I feel like smashing some hockey related gender norms, so I hope it's cool with you all if I do a badass, hockey playing, female reader for this one 😌

---

With a heave, you push open the big, double door to your school's practice ice, and a blast of crisp, winter scented air rushes over you. You are the only girl on your school's hockey team, and it feels like the odds are against you.

You're tough, a good shot, and fast, but you still feel like you have a lot to prove. The accuracy of that sentiment is highly debatable, but nonetheless, extra practice never hurts.

Today you've just brought your skates, stick, and a weighted vest for speed drills. It's long after school hours by now, but as a member of the team, you can swipe into the rink anytime you want. That being said, the last thing you were expecting was to find the ice occupied...

The sound of shredding ice snaps your attention to the rink, and there you see a lone boy on skates, tearing it up.

He looks about your age, and if he's in here then he must go to your school... So why don't you recognize him?

You set down your equipment and lace up your skates, pretending to be occupied while you stare.

His strides are long and measured, with a grace you haven't quite seen before. He's wearing a leotard in your school's colors, and the spandex only accents his long, delicate legs as he goes around and around, somewhere between gliding and flying as he goes through a routine of tricks and moves.

He jumps once through the air with impressive form and lands squarely in the center of the ice. You're already feeling quite impressed by the show he's given so far, and you rise to give some polite applause at this last move. But then, you're cut off as he draws up to his full height and launches himself into a spin, perfectly contained to one spot.

As his arms draw in, he goes faster and faster until he's nothing more then a rotating column. Slowly, he drops down to a one legged crouch, his lifted skate held out in front of him with both hands as he arches forward to reach. By now, you feel dizzy just looking at him, but when he springs up over a foot in the air, completing two more aerial spins before landing perfectly on a single skate...

Well, you’re blown away.

To celebrate, you congratulate him like any true hockey fan would. You pound on the glass as hard and as loud as you can, being sure to accompany it with whoops and cheers of admiration. However, the sound of all your ruckus must’ve taken him by surprise, as the figure skater whips around all too fast and slips into a nasty looking fall.

“Shit”, you mutter. Without a moment to lose, you rush down the ramp and onto the ice with your skates thankfully all ready to go. Showing your best hustle, you skate over just as the young man begins to stir. You come to a full stop, trying not to spray him in ice, and drop down to see if he’s alright.

He groans, and sits up slowly, rubbing at his hip, “I’m fine, thanks...”

The British accent takes you by surprise, but you put it aside for now, “Here, let me help you to the bench”. Without giving him much of a wait, you lift him up to his feet easily with fairly impressive strength and help him off the ice while he tires to hide a blush.

Once you’re both settled down, Paul finally takes a moment to get a good look at you. The first thing he notices is your skates. “So... You’re on the, uh hockey team?”

A jolt of excitement goes through you as you assume he is knowledgeable on the topic. Finally, a guy who gets you. You launch into a hyper jabber, telling him all sorts of secular, hockey related things like your name, your jersey number, your position, and the drills you’re here to practice.

Paul has no idea what you’re talking about. In fact, he hardly knows the name of the sport to be quite honest, considering it’s not at all popular back in England... But, you seem so excited, what with your sweet smile and the gleam in your eyes, he can’t bring himself to interrupt you.

“Anyway, sorry, I’m talking too much”, you laugh.

“No no, it’s alright! It’s nice to meet such a passionate person”, he smiles. “Oh, um I’m Paul by the way! I uh, just moved here with my family a few weeks ago”

Well you figured as much, but you’re excited to get to know him more. After all, he seems quite nice, and you admit, you are rather curious about him...

Paul tells you a bit about his background in Liverpool to start off, but he quickly cuts to his passion for figure skating and how he got started in that. He tells you all about the his competitions and medals and how he’s hoping to take his dreams to the pros here in the States.

You listen intently, clinging to every word. Of course you were curious at first, but who would’ve thought he’d be so amazing to boot? You had no idea you were practically talking to a superstar.

Paul humbly denies the title, but he can’t help but feel quite proud of himself under all your attention. To be honest, he was rather worried he’d have a hard time finding his place in an American school, making friends and all that... But imagine his surprise to be here, not even one week into his school career, being fawned over by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

When the conversation hits a bit of a slump, Paul starts up a new topic, “So, what kind of moves have you got out there? I’d imagine there’s quite a bit of fancy footwork that goes into your game... Maybe you could teach me a few things, eh?”, he smiles encouragingly and give a little chuckle as he bumps your shoulder.

You laugh nervously, “I think it’d be quite the opposite if anything... I’m pretty fast, but that’s about all I have going for me in terms of skating”, you look away and kick as a small pile of snow in front of you.

“Aw, well that’s an easy fix! Tell you what, how about I’ll show you some moves, and you can show me a bit about hockey afterwards!”, his hazel eyes beam at you, and you must admit, that would be a rather sweet deal...

You agree, and next thing you know, you’re both off onto the rink. Paul teaches you a little bit about spins, just some basic moves for maneuvering around others, and as well as helping you fine tune your backwards skating.

“Here, like this...”, he lets go of your hands and instead tries to approach this by holding you from behind. Paul takes a firm grip on your waist, his fingers long and delicate as they curl around you, “Now, just move your feet like I do...”

The rest of his instructions are drowned out by the pounding in your ears and you hope against hope that you can pass off the redness in your cheeks as the touch of the cold. But, without even realizing, Paul is leading you through a smooth back skate... And just as you do realize, he lets you go and the surprise throws you off balance.

You tread some ice and slip backwards. Paul catches you, but it doesn’t do much good as he ends up going down as well. You land right on top of him, the two of you left with the wind knocked out of you. Thankfully you come to your senses in a jiffy and you roll over to check on Paul, to find yourself mere inches away from his pretty face.

He blinks a few times and shakes his head out a little before focusing on you with a little pout, “Now that’s the second time you’ve knocked me off my feet today”. You’re about to apologize, when his sad little face cracks into a sly smirk, “I hope this doesn’t come to be a pattern...”, he winks at you.

You gasp and bat at his chest as you push yourself up, a severe blush and an incredulous laugh escaping you. Paul shoots up to sit, “Where are you going!”, he laughs.

“I think we’ve had enough practice for one day”, you turn around, trying but failing to suppress your laughter.

“Well hold on, how about some ice cream or something at least!”

Paul chases after you like a lost puppy, begging you for a little more time together today. You shake your head, but make some plans with him anyway. After all, who knows? You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take...

#the beatles #paul mccartney x reader #hockey!reader #the beatles x reader #beatles fic #highschool au

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fanficimagery · 5 years ago

Text

Another One Bites the Dust pt. 2

Summary: In which you accidentally run into the new guy, only for him to take an interest in you.

Words: 6.6K Warnings: Violence and swearing. A particular scene here happened pretty early on when Billy first moved to Hawkins, but for the sake of this imagine just pretend it happened a little later on.

Billy Hargrove. The boy was an absolute dick to most, but you and he meshed pretty well thanks to the meddling of your best friend Heather. There were days where his dick-ish attitude just rubbed you the wrong way and you gave him the silent treatment until he cut his shit out, and fortunately for you he was quick to remedy his wrong the moment you shrugged off his arm when he was back in one of his playful moods.

You and he became the school's latest will they or won't they duo, and unfortunately for you almost the entire school was leaning towards when you would hook up, not if.

The school day has finally ended and you're more than ready to go home, even if it means riding the school bus since your car was in the shop. Both Billy and Heather were absent, and you had to endure muttered catty remarks, and you're just so over it. No matter how much you denied anything going on between you and Billy, the female population of Hawkins High still held a grudge against you for taking his attention.

Walking outside, you're heading towards the faded yellow buses when blaring music gets louder and louder, and gravel and dust is kicked up when a familiar blue Camaro skids to a stop nearby you. You cough, waving a hand in front of your face to fan away the dust, and then roll your eyes at a smirking Billy. "Don't you look awfully perky for someone who called in sick."

He chuckles. "Get in. I'm not letting you ride the bus."

Normally you'd banter a bit before caving, but you're tired. Riding with Billy sounds a hundred times better than riding the school bus with gossiping bitches. "Oh my god, yes. Thank you. I love you," you babble.

Quickly walking around the front of his car, you open up the passenger side door and plop down into his passenger seat. Billy leans towards you, nudging his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Mmm. Say that again, but slower and whisper it in my ear."

You snort, shaking your head in amusement. "Not today, Hargrove. Please. I just want to go home and sleep."

When you look at him, you're a bit surprised to see how fast he sobers up. "What happened?"

"The usual. Now can you please drive or are we waiting for Max?"

"Max can skateboard her ass home." You frown at him, but you know better than to delve into his relationships with his family. As you and Heather have come to find out, Billy did not get along with any of his family whatsoever and it was best for everyone involved if you never mentioned it. "Your parents still out?"

"Yep, but-"

"Aw come on, Princess. No buts."

"Yes buts, Hargrove. I still don't need a guard dog to sleep at my feet."

He grins and quickly glances back out his windshield. "Who said I'd be sleeping at your feet?"

Groaning and laughing, you reach over to weakly punch his arm. "Shut up and drive, please."

Billy ends up cruising around town and down the back roads, knowing exactly what you need to decompress. With the window down and wind whipping through hair, you turn your head to face Billy and smile at him. He smirks back, thumbs tapping out beats along to the songs blaring from his speaker against his steering wheel. But all too soon the drive comes to a stop when he pulls up to the curb in front of your house.

Just as you reach for your backpack at your feet, Billy lowers the volume to his radio. "So listen, Y/N, I was thinking-"

"Whoa. No way!"

He snorts. "Shut up." You chuckle, miming zipping your lips shut. "So anyways, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Besides sleeping? Nothing. What do you have in mind?"

"Let's grab a bite to eat. Just you and me. No Heather."

You hum as you open the door, sliding out. "Normally I'd tell you to get bent, but I'm game if you're buying." You shut the door and lean down to peer in through the opened window.

"Whatever you say, Princess. It's a date."

Your smile drops and Billy's smirk widens. "What? No it's not."

"What'd you say?" Billy raises the volume to the point that you flinch and he points at his ear, shakes his head, and shrugs. "I can't hear you!"

"You're a dickhead!" He laughs, clearly hearing you and revs his engine. On instinct you step back and Billy shoots off, leaving you waving a hand in front of your face to get rid of the dust his tires kicked up. You sigh. "It's totally not a date."

With nothing better to do and no one to tell you not to nap to your heart's content, you immediately jump into the shower to wash away all the lingering smells and germs from school. Afterward you dress in a shirt that's about two sizes too big and a pair of shorts that your father would burn had he known you were in possession of them. Then after vigorously towel drying your hair before throwing it up into a messy bun, you grab a pillow and blanket and fall onto the couch in front of the TV that's playing MTV.

Your eyes flutter shut for what feels like minutes, but when they fly back open the darkened living room says otherwise. For a moment you're confused as to why you were startled awake, but then the doorbell rings and nearly scares you half to death. When the pounding starts, you're quick to sit up and scramble towards the door, yanking it open seconds later. You're greeted by a beaming Heather and a too smug Billy.

"You have a date?!" She practically screeches.

You frown, rubbing the heel of your palm into your right eye. "Uh, no?"

"That's not what Billy says."

"Billy's a liar. You should know this by now."

Heather giggles and brushes passed you into your house. "Whatever. We brought Chinese. Hope you're hungry."

You watch her go and then turn to face Billy who's now eyeing you up and down. "Is that- is that my shirt?"

Immediately your face heats up and you glance down to see where his gaze has stopped. Grabbing the hem of the shirt and trying to lower it to cover your bare thighs, you nervously clear your throat. "You never asked for it back," you tell him. "You left your gym bag in my car for two weeks and I had to wash your rank ass clothes. I kept the shirt."

He slowly drags his eyes upward, eyes twinkling. "Looks good on you."

"Of course it does. I make everything look good."

You turn on the heel of your foot, gesturing for Billy to follow. He does. "Princess, please tell me you're wearing shorts. Because if you're not, I'm about to have a situation here."

Heather cackles from the kitchen and you roll your eyes even though he can't see it. "If you end up stiff, you're taking care of it in your car."

"You gonna give me a hand? Or a mouth?" He teases.

You snort. "Keep dreaming."

"Oh I will."

Heather dreamily sighs. "God I love when you two are like this," she says, gaze darting between you and Billy. "When you two finally come together, pun totally intended, it's going to be so explosive and I want all the nitty gritty details."

"As if," you say, the same time Billy says, "You got it."

Your friend giggles as she readily takes down plates and glasses from the cabinets. You turn to grab some Cola from the fridge and then head to take a seat at the table. Heather nudges you towards the chair that's closest to Billy and you huff a laugh but accept your fate nonetheless, crossing one leg over the other.

Heather quickly dishes out her food, she then passing you the containers. You dish yourself up some beef teriyaki and fried rice, absentmindedly dishing up the same for Billy while also adding two egg rolls to his plate. Heather coos, you blush, and then blush even harder when Billy slots his left hand between your pressed thighs underneath the table. Your instincts tell you to tell him to remove his hand, but the touch is innocent enough and you bite your tongue. It's as if he's warming his hand between your thighs like you absentmindedly do when your hands get too cold.

Laughter and chatter is shared throughout dinner, you filling them in on your day without them and they each sharing their bogus reasons for skipping school. Unknowingly you started eating with only your right hand and your left hand slipped under the table to join Billy's. You realized a moment too late that you were playing with his fingers, and when you tensed he chose that moment to squeeze your thigh.

You squeak and nearly fall out of your chair, and Heather stares suspiciously between the two of you. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," you tell her.

Billy grins. "I think I just found Y/N's ticklish spot."

You scowl as Heather's gaze drops, a smirk slowly forming. "You found the spot above her knee, huh? There's another spot on the back of her neck. Squeeze there and she drops like a sack of potatoes."

"Heather!" Your eyes widen. "You traitorous bitch." Billy reaches slowly for the back of your neck and you're quick to duck and swat at his hand. "Don't even think about it."

After a quick clean-up of the kitchen, Billy ends up staying a little while longer. The three of you wind up in the living room, MTV playing in the background as Heather playfully riles things up between you and Billy. Eventually though he has to leave and Heather informs you she's spending the night.

As you drag in the mattress from the spare bedroom into your own room, Heather showers to get ready for bed. You toss down extra pillows and a blanket, and then patiently wait for her to join you in your room.

With Cyndi Lauper playing on low, Heather paints her toenails as she asks, "So you and Billy, huh? It's about damn time you agreed to a date."

You sigh, painting your own toenails. "It's not a date."

"Are you sure?" She teases. Then a bit more seriously, she asks, "It's honest hour, Y/N. Do you really not want this to be a date?"

Taking a moment to think about it, you eventually put the polish brush back into it's bottle and meet your friend's gaze. "I like him. Okay?" She smiles. "But we've had this little back and forth going on for a while now, and it'd be weird for me to suddenly cave. I feel- I feel like once he's won, he'll walk soon after to the next girl playing hard to get."

"Oh sweetie," she coos. "Do you really not get that Billy likes you? He doesn't chase girls, Y/N. Girls chase him."

"But I-"

"Didn't chase him. Exactly," she muses. "You caught his attention. He wants you, not anyone else."

"I don't know, Heather."

"Trust me. If you're still not sure, dress casual for dinner. But if he flirts, you flirt back and see where it takes you."

You snort. "I'm pretty sure he'll try to take it to the backseat if I show the teensiest bit of interest."

"Nah. Hargrove's all talk. He'll only head in that direction if you're giving all the right signals. He'll tongue you for sure, but he'll wait for you to take the bigger steps."

You giggle, putting aside your nail polishes before falling back onto your pillows with a sigh. "Mr. California is going to be the death of me."

The following morning Heather helps you make some breakfast before cleaning up your room and helping you choose an outfit for dinner with Billy. She keeps it simple with some high waisted shorts, a black crop top with its sleeves rolled up, and a pair of Doc Martens. It's super casual, but also something that would do well for a first date.

Heather ends up leaving just after lunch and Billy calls you soon after. By his teasing and chuckling, you know he's excited for later that night. He won't tell you what he has planned, but he does give you a time to be ready by. So after some light cleaning, because your parents will be home the following night, you take a few hours nap before waking up to pamper yourself a little bit.

Dressed and now deciding whether or not you want to wear a jean jacket that's about two sizes too big, you opt to leave it on and leave it open when you hear the doorbell ring.

Practically bouncing down the steps, your amused smile falters when you open the door and see Billy's solemn expression. He actually looks really good- the boots, the tight jeans, the deep red shirt that's been unbuttoned down to the top of his stomach, and the black leather jacket. But instead of his usual sparkling eyes that you're used to, your heart falls at the sight of his defeated expression.

"Date's cancelled. Thought you'd like to know."

You frown. "What happened?"

"Max took off. Now I gotta track down the little shit and drag her home."

"Well maybe I can help. The sooner we find her, the sooner we can continue on with our night."

Billy weakly grins, hands digging into his pockets. "Our night, huh? Thought you'd be excited to get out of the date."

"What can I say? You've grown on me, Hargrove. Like a fungus."

That earns a chuckle, but still he's not his usual self like he is when you're hanging out. He looks you up and down, trying to figure out exactly what to do here, and he eventually sighs. "If you can stomach me turning on the charm for a few house moms, you got yourself a deal."

"Don't be gross." You step out onto the porch, shutting the door behind you. "I know the boys we usually see her with. I can easily direct you to where she could possibly be."

You brush past Billy, smirking, and hop down the porch stairs. He stomps down the stairs after you, chuckling as you climb into his car as if you belong there.

You first stop at the Henderson residence, you getting off alone. With Billy looking the way he is, you know for sure Ms. Henderson will attempt to keep him as long as possible. Luckily for you she's not really impressed with teen girls and tells you what you want to know right away. That the boys aren't there.

The Sinclair residence proves the boys aren't there either, but you still end up leaving with a smile when Billy gets roasted by the small pre-teen who had answered the door.

You figured it would be safe for Billy to get off at the Wheeler residence since Mrs. Wheeler is married, but you're proven wrong when she answers the door in her bathrobe and Billy's stance shifts. You can hear his flirtatious tone from the passenger seat of his car and have to bite your tongue when she leads him inside. He doesn't even spare you a glance as he follows after her and your heart twinges as he disappears. You're surprised at the sudden jealousy, but manage to remain cool for five minutes.

Eventually, you sigh and lean over towards the steering wheel to slam your hand on the horn. You let it blare for several long seconds before leaning back in your seat with a huff.

Seconds later the front door opens and Billy saunters out. He smirks at you, you flip him off, and then glower at Mrs. Wheeler who's watching with a frown from her door.

Her displeased expression at your appearance is so unwarranted that you're not really surprised your petty side jumps out. So just as Billy reaches the driver's side door, you can't help but slightly lean out the passenger window and shout, "How's the husband doing, Mrs. Wheeler?"

She smiles tightly in response, wraps her robe tighter around herself, lifts a hand in a stiff wave, and then re-enters her home. Billy laughs as he settles into his seat, slamming the door shut behind him. "Really, Y/N? Old lady Wheeler is what gets the jealousy stirring?"

"Fuck off, Hargrove, and drive. You figure out where the kids are yet?"

He smirks and then shrugs as he starts his car. "She said something about the Byers residence."

"Of course she did. Lets go."

The entire ride there Billy teases you about your now obvious dislike for Mrs. Wheeler and no amount of trying to explain why deterred him. You only disliked her because of her obvious flirting with a teenager while being married and not because she was a female flirting with the teenager you just so happened to have a crush on. Nope. Not. At. All.

But the moment you pull into the long driveway leading up to the Byers' house, all of Billy's amusement flees. Your grin falters as your gaze jumps between him and the somewhat familiar car sitting in front of the house, and you sigh. "I know you're pissed, but keep your shit straight. They're still kids, Billy."

His hand tightens on the steering wheel. "That's Harrington's car."

Well fuck. This won't end well.

Billy parks and lets his car idle for a few seconds before cutting the engine. In the silence, he pulls down a cigarette from his visor and lights up. Then placing the stick between his lips, he inhales deeply as the tip of his cig burns bright in the dark. The front door to the house opens and out steps Steve Harrington, and you're quick to exit the passenger side door as Billy angrily exits his side.

"Is that you, Harrington?" He asks, falsely amused.

"Yeah. Don't cream yourself."

You snort as you come to rest against the front end of Billy's car, shrugging when he glares at you and mumbles about you being a traitor. He then turns his attention back to Steve. You listen as they go back and forth, Billy asking about the whereabouts of his little sister and Steve denying having seen her.

Billy continues to call Steve a creep for hanging out with young boys, Steve continues to weakly defend himself, and your attention is dragged towards the house windows when you see the curtain move. Several small heads pop up to peer outside, Max included, and you cringe. You glance at Billy, hoping he hadn't seen, but when the kids all drop you know it was because Billy had seen them. And sure enough, when he points them out and Steve groans, you know the night's just taken a turn for the worse.

Billy stomps past Steve and you push off his car to follow. "Goddammit, Steve, why didn't you just admit to her being here?"

"And let him kill her? No thanks." He says, keeping pace with you.

"Fuck off, Harrington. When you saw me with him, you should have admitted she was here. Do you really think I'd let him hurt her?"

There's a shout, a couple girlish screams, and glass breaking. You swear and rush inside with Steve on your heels, only to run into pure chaos.

Billy threatens Lucas Sinclair and Steve rushes to save him. Steve throws the first punch and the room erupts with screams and shouts for Steve to beat the shit out of Billy. The boys immediately draw blood and instead of shouting at Billy to cool it, because there's no way he'll calm down now, you keep an eye on the other kids. When Billy dazes Steve, he angrily turns back towards Lucas and you rush to jump between them.

"Don't even think about it, Hargrove!" You tell him, hands planted on his chest. "He's a kid." His nostrils flare in anger, but you stand your ground.

Instead Billy focuses on Steve once more and you glance over your shoulder to nod in reassurance at the kids who are staring at you in surprise.

The fight quickly turns brutal and even you join in with the kids, shouting at Billy to stop when he leans over Steve to pummel him. But Billy's not listening to anyone and you're soon distracted by Max when you see her rush towards something on the floor and bend over to pick it up. You see her stare at a syringe now in her hand before she glances at Billy, and when you see the determination in her eyes you move.

"Max, don't!" You lunge towards Billy and shove your hand to shield the side of his neck, crying out when the needle is sloppily shoved deep into your forearm. Your cry draws Billy's attention, every one of the rioting boys quiet down, and Max's eyes widen. You stumble back, empty syringe stuck into your arm, and you hastily pull it out to toss aside. "What the ffuu-" You slur.

"I-I'm sorry!" She stammers. "I didn't mean-

The room swims before your very eyes and you trip over a piece of broken furniture. You flinch at every kid that tries to reach out to steady you, so Billy rushes forward and gently grabs you by the arms. You squeak, but he gently shushes you, and you have to flutter your eyelids just to properly focus your gaze. Staring up at him as he comes into focus, you take note of his worried expression and bleeding nose. "B-Billy?"

He nods before glancing over his shoulder. "Max, what the fuck did you give her?!"

"I-It was a tranquilizer! It was meant for you," she admits. "But she put her arm in the way."

The room spins again and you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. "Make it stop. Please make it stop."

"Guys!" One of the kids shouts. "We don't have time for this. We need to go!"

"Go how? Steve's down for the count," someone else says, "and we don't all fit in his car."

For some reason the tip of Billy's nose catches your attention and you can't help but boop it with a giggle. "Billy's got a car," you muse.

He swats at your hand. "Like hell I'm gonna drive these crotch goblins anywhere."

You poke his chin, giggling when he catches your hand. "Come on, babe. Let's go on an adventure!" You say excitedly right before your world goes dark.

When Y/N's body goes limp, Billy takes her full weight into his arm. He gently taps her cheek. "Y/N? Y/N!" When he gets no answer, he glances up and glares at Max.

She's quick to hold her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to drug your girlfriend, but we really do need a ride. It's a life or death situation."

"Max!"

"What? He needs to know, Mike! We're not going to save anyone if we don't find a ride there and we can't exactly steal his car with him still conscious!"

Billy stares down at Y/N, then back at Max. His frustration is at its peak, but with Y/N passed out in his arms there's nothing he can do about it. The annoying kids are all staring at him, sans one who's now helping Steve to his feet, and he groans. "Fine. But you're explaining what the hell is going on, on the way there, Max. And all your little friends are riding in Harrington's car. You're with me and Y/N to make sure she doesn't choke on her own vomit."

"Fine. Whatever."

"Fine. Lets go!"

It's a complete clusterfuck just getting to the cars, the young boys struggling to get Steve moving. He's in no shape to drive, so Billy yells at them to get their shit together and pick a driver. Mike reluctantly gets into the driver's seat as they shove Steve into the back with Lucas and Billy gently shoves Y/N into the backseat of his own car with Max.

As they get on the road, Billy sighs at the shitty driving skills the kid is displaying in front of him, but follows nonetheless.

"Alright. Explain." Billy stares at Max through the rearview mirror and watches as she mentally prepares what she's going to say.

"You're not going to believe me," she starts with. "I didn't believe it until I witnessed some things first hand."

"Max," he grits out. "Tell me."

"Okay, so basically monsters are real," Max blurts. Billy says nothing, but his hands do tighten around the steering wheel. "There was some laboratory in town that was super into child experimentation and one of these experiments had powers that opened up a door to another dimension." Billy scoffs. "It's true," she glares. "A monster escaped and kidnapped Will Byers. They presumed him dead, but he was actually alive. The laboratory faked his death so they didn't have to admit what they were doing, but his mom and Chief Hopper saved him. He's possessed now which is why we're going to an opening we know about to cause a distraction while they save Will and shut the dimension door once and for all."

There's a tense moment of silence before Billy says, "Are you guys stoned? What the fuck, Max?"

She groans. "I told you, you wouldn't believe me!"

"Are you even hearing yourself right now?! What the hell did they drag you into?"

"Billy, I'm telling you the truth." Max meets his stare in the mirror, eyes pleading. "Just please follow them. I need to help and you don't even have to get off the car. We'll do all the work."

"Whatever," he grumbles. "But after all this shit is done and over with, you're gonna be on your best behavior for the next several months. I don't need Neil on my ass about babysitting you anymore."

"Fine. Deal. Whatever."

Billy's annoyed when he has to drive his baby through a goddamn pumpkin patch and then even more annoyed with the rotted smell after they park. The kids and Harrington all readily climb out of the car, and he warns Max to not die because he's not taking the blame for that shit. He watches as they produce swimming goggles, bandanas, ropes, and gloves. Flashlights are handed out, as well as canisters of what he presumes is gasoline.

"What the fuck," he mutters. Sighing, he glances at Y/N still passed out in the backseat and seeing that she's not going anywhere anytime soon he decides to get out of his car. So with his headlights left on and shining towards the same spot Steve left his headlights shining on, Billy gets out and stomps around towards the group. "Yo, dipshits! What the hell are you doing with those gas cans?"

In the midst of tying their makeshift masks around their faces, everyone glances at Billy before staring at Max. She groans and addresses her stepbrother. "It's called the Upside Down- the place where the monsters come from. Their world started leaking into ours and there's an opening over there in the patch," she says while pointing. "We're going to go in and torch it."

Off in the distance there's a roar of an animal that Billy has never heard before. The headlights to the two vehicles flicker before cutting out and flashlights get turned on. But even then the flashlights flicker too.

"If we're going to do this, we're doing it now," Steve says.

Billy follows the group towards the rotted out pumpkin patch and watches them secure a rope before tossing the rest of the length down the hole. One by one they jump down and before Max can take her turn, he grabs her by the arm. "Don't die, dipshit."

She huffs. "Sure thing, asshole."

Steve is the last to go, but before he goes down he looks at Billy. "I'll, uh, I'll keep an eye on her."

"You better, pretty boy. If she gets hurt, I'm coming after you."

Steve's eyes widen before he lowers the ridiculous goggles to shield his eyes and then jumps down. Billy walks over to the ledge, frowning down into the hole. The kids must get further from the entrance because the small beams of light soon disappear and with no way to see he heads back to his car.

As soon as he opens up the driver's side door, Billy yanks the seat forward and climbs into the back with Y/N.

Shifting in your seat, your eyes flutter open and you're momentarily confused with the near darkness that greets you. "Where-" You utter, cutting yourself off and gulping. Your mouth feels a little dry and your tongue feels heavy. "What's going on?"

"Hey. Shh." Turning to the side and squinting, you can make out Billy's features. His hands gently cup your face and you flinch the touch. "It's okay. You're alright."

"Billy?" You let your eyes close, head aching. "Where are we?"

"In the backseat of my car in the middle of some field with rotted pumpkins."

You whimper softly. "The backseat of your car? I told Heather I wouldn't be that girl."

Billy chuckles. "Relax, Princess. You were drugged. I'm not in the business of taking advantage of girls."

"Drugged?" Bits and pieces of earlier that night comes to you and you sit up a little in your seat. "Max was going to stab you!"

"Relax." He tugs you into his side, draping an arm around you and keeping you pressed against him. "Max had her reason for wanting to knock me out. I did a serious number on Harrington back at the house."

Your brow furrows the more you try to recall. You groan quietly and press your face into Billy's chest. "I feel like I should tell you something for fighting, but I'm just so tired."

"Go to sleep, Y/N. You can scold me later."

"Okay. Just one question." He hums and waits for you to continue. "What the fuck are we doing in the middle of a field?"

Billy's sudden laugh startles you and you pinch him in retaliation. "That's a story for when you're less loopy. It's pretty unbelievable and I'm still not sure I believe it myself."

"Okay. If you say so, Bobby."

"Jesus Christ," he sighs. "Go back to sleep."

You lose track of time over the rest of the weekend, barely keeping yourself focused during phone calls with Billy, Heather, and Jonathan Byers since he was pretty close to the situation going on that led the kids to acting crazy and Max drugging you. Your parents are in and out of your room, but they leave you alone thinking you'd caught a very mild case of the flu.

One morning you wake up to the smell of something cooking and stumble your way out of the room, heading towards the kitchen. You rub at your eyes, yawning and stretching carefully since you're aching in several places, and blink in confusion at the sight of your mom cooking.

"Mom?" You frown. "What are you doing home?"

"Hmm. Oh, honey," she smiles. "Your father pushed his trip back a couple of days to make sure you were feeling well before we left again."

"Oh. Well thanks, but I'm actually feeling pretty good. I'm just really tired," you tell her with yet another yawn. She smiles at you and your gaze is then drawn towards a vase holding three sunflowers. "Dad forget an important day?" You ask. "He rarely buys flowers unless he's in trouble."

Your mom laughs. "No, those are yours. Some young girl brought them over last night and when we told her you were feeling a bit unwell, she said to tell you that she apologizes for ruining your date."

Max. Max had brought you flowers because she had ruined what would have been your first date with Billy. And speaking of Billy, the memories of that night rush to the forefront of your mind and you can't help but smile at how adoringly attentive he had been when you were out of your mind in the backseat of his car. You even remember him driving you home and helping you upstairs before he tucking you into bed while Max had gotten you a glass of water and some Tylenol.

Your mom suddenly clears her throat and at her smug little grin, your cheeks heat up. "Don't make it weird. It's just Billy."

"The boy who's been chasing you for the past several months? That Billy?"

"Yep." You head towards the flowers, delicately running your fingers over them and huffing a short laugh. "That girl that dropped these off is Max, his step sister. She kind of took off without letting their parents know she was leaving and Billy had to search for her."

"Oh. Well it was kind of her to apologize."

"Yeah. Yeah it was." As you're staring at the flowers, it suddenly hits you that you really want to see Billy. Plus it's also a weekday and you should be getting ready for school. "Well I'm gonna go shower and get ready. Don't wanna be late for class."

"Y/N." You turn towards your mom before you can make an escape and she frowns at you. "It's about to be lunch time, sweetheart. You've already missed your morning classes."

"What?" Your heart skips a beat. Looking out the window, you're surprised you hadn't realized just how bright it was. "Crap."

"You slept through your alarm so I figured you weren't feeling well."

"It's- it's fine. I'm just gonna freshen up and make a quick appearance at school."

You're in a rush to get back to your room that you barely hear your mom call out, "Tell Billy I say hello," with laughter lacing her tone.

----------

Twenty minutes later you're pulling into the school parking lot with only a handful of minutes left to spare in the lunch period. Billy is easy to spot, a gaggle of his usual fans surrounding the front of his car as Heather sits on the hood next to him and glares at all the simpering messes.

You park nearby, cutting the engine and slamming your door shut as you climb out. Everyone turns to stare at you, but you only have eyes for the smoking moron who pushes himself off his car to stand tall as you approach.

You pass up one car and then two, and then, "Nice house shoes," Steve muses from his perch on Jonathan Byers' car.

"Eat my ass, Harrington." Jonathan snorts and you barely give Steve and his affronted expression a brief grin as Nancy giggles from Jonathan's side.

Continuing on your path towards Billy, a few girls give up upon seeing you and move on while others stand their ground. You have no problem shoving between them all to get to your friend and Billy tosses down his cigarette when he sees you're on a mission.

"Well, well, well. It looks like Sleeping Beauty finally-" You grab him by the lapels of his jean jacket and pull him down so you don't have to tiptoe in order to kiss him. He tenses momentarily and someone wolf whistles, Heather most likely, while others grumble and others mutter slurs beneath their breath before stomping off.

But almost as soon as he tenses, he relaxes and his hands slide down to grip your hips. With his mouth still connected to yours and teeth nipping, Billy turns you and readily lifts you onto the hood of his car as he steps between your knees.

"Goddamn. Finally!" Heather gushes.

Her words manage to pierce through the lustful fog in your brain and you pull back from Billy, laughing. You shake your head at her as she wiggles her eyebrows and swat at Billy's hands as his fingers trail down your thighs.

"Uh, excuse you," someone scoffs. "We were talking."

Heather's smile drops as her gaze immediately darts to the girl who dared speak up and you turn to slowly meet the annoyed girl's stare. You smile. "You're excused, Natalie."

"It's Natasha."

"Did I stutter?" Billy snorts as he leans forward, dropping his forehead on your shoulder. "Move along, Natalie. Your presence is no longer required."

The bell ringing has the crowd slowly dispersing in order to get back to class, but you, Billy, and Heather remain rooted right where you're at.

When the shuffling of feet or petty remarks can no longer be heard, Billy lifts his head. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought this on?"

"Saturday night was a total shitshow," you say, your hands tugging at the lapels of his jacket before smoothing them down and then sliding around to clasp at the back of his neck, "but something definitely shifted after your step-sister drugged me."

"She did what?!" Heather practically shouts.

Billy chuckles but doesn't say anything and a feeling of uncertainty washes over you. You sigh. "This is weird, isn't it?"

"No. Definitely not," he's quick to reply. "You just caught me off guard, but I'm totally into it."

"Of course you are. You're into anything if it means you're going to get laid."

"Am I?" He asks, right eyebrow raising. "Going to get laid?" He then clarifies.

You roll your eyes. "Maybe. We'll play it by ear."

"Uhh.. excuse me!?" Heather says, gaze ping-ponging between you and Billy. "Is anyone going to explain? Why the hell were you drugged?!"

You and Billy laugh as you meet her surprised expression. "Oh, Heather. There's so much more to Hawkins that we have to teach you."

"But not right now," Billy says. His hands hook beneath your knees as he drags you towards the edge of his car and you readily wrap your legs around his waist as he lifts you up. "Y/N and I are going somewhere quieter to talk."

"Mhm. I'm sure you are." Heather hops off the hood and starts to slowly walk backwards toward the school.

"And you," you say while tossing her your keys, "are going to take my car after school. I'll get it from you later."

"Jesus. If I'd known you would be this nice, I'd have encouraged Billy to get into your pants a lot sooner."

"Eat me, Holloway."

"That's Billy's job, Y/L/N." With that she turns on her heel and skips away.

Billy snorts as he spots your cheeks flaming, but you pinch the side of his neck before pecking his lips and then letting your legs drop so you can stand on your own two feet once more. He chuckles as he watches you walk around to the passenger side of his car and you waste no time settling inside. As he then moves to take his place behind the wheel, you can't help but think about how exhilarating this all is. You've known he was attractive from the moment you saw him, but you made him your friend before pursuing any type of relationship with him.

So now as you sit in his passenger seat like you have been for several months, you can't help but feel a bout of nervousness as he reaches across the seat and offers you his right hand. You grab it and then bite back a giggle as he laces your fingers together.

"So my place or yours?"

"Yours. Definitely yours."

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove #stranger things #heather holloway #fanficimagery #imagine

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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 3 years ago

Text

Check Ignition: Part VII

That Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst

First part // Previous part // Next part

Requests/asks are open. Give me your opinions, your ideas for this fic, your additional fic ideas. I love hearing from you all!

Robbe didn’t want to get out of bed on Sunday. This week marked the last before exams set in, then everyone would leave for winter holidays. Jens and Aaron lived within a ten-kilometer radius of Robbe’s apartment, but the distance might as well be five hundred with how often they saw each other. Jens called this week in the term “Live It Up Week.” It was their final chance to have some big fun before two weeks’ isolation at home.

No one else knew what Robbe heard last night. He didn’t know what he would tell them. When Jens tried to pull the curtains open to get a jump on a day of mischief, Robbe bound them shut with a simple spell.

“You’re not that tired,” Jens taunted. “C’mon, my sweet Robbe, the world is wide and open for our consumption!”

Aaron joined in. “We have so much to do!”

“Sander can come along, if you want.”

“Oh, no, he met someone else. Sander’s not—”

“The someone is Sander…”

Their voices softened into harsh whispers outside. Robbe clamped his pillow over his head and prayed they’d go away. He didn’t think he could handle anything else today.

It was never anything, what he had with Sander. Nothing that would last. Robbe found it funny, in a kind of morbid way—he wasn’t really upset. Did he want to leave the cocoon of his blankets? No. Was he happy with how anything turned out? Also no. But he wasn’t going to cry over it.

He remembered when Jens and Jana broke up. Jens was in pieces for weeks afterward, although he tried to hide it. Robbe didn’t feel that caliber of heartbreak. If anything, it felt like his speculations were proven true.

He wasn’t happy, he was right. Those emotions were close enough. A comfortable numbness.

Damn, what was he going to tell Aaron and Moyo about his someone else?

The boys rustled about the room, throwing clothes and dropping their belongings. A door opened and shut, and Jens put his mouth right against the seam in the bedcurtains to talk to Robbe.

“Aaron’s gone,” he said. “What happened?”

Robbe didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

“Did you end things with him?”

They were never a thing. What was there to end? If Sander was back with Britt, their relationship returned to what it was before the fake-dating started. Stolen glances across a table. If he wasn’t, well, Robbe would let himself be dragged along for the rest of the term. It was only meant to last a month. He could handle another month.

Robbe kind of wanted to pick Jens’ mind on the subject: what did Sander’s statement mean? Was it an echo of the joke they had on their first date, but serious this time? I could never fall in love with Robbe. Was it an assurance to Britt that Robbe wouldn’t get in the way of their rekindled relationship? Was it something simpler than that, no more than an acknowledgement that things were moving too fast between them?

He didn’t know how to unload all of that on Jens in a decent amount of time, and even if he did, it probably wouldn’t make much sense. Robbe was a shit storyteller.

“You know you can tell me things, right?” said Jens. “Anything. About anything. About… other people.”

“I know,” said Robbe, because he didn’t want Jens to be worried. “It’s exams. I’m stressed out.”

He could hear Jens exhale and relax on the other side of the curtains. “Ah, right. You have to be the smartest out of us. Yasmina got you in a study group?”

“Yeah, I spent the night in the library.” Why not say something like that? It was better than what he’d actually been doing, which was getting his heart broken in a hallway by an overheard conversation.

“Cool. I’ll let you sleep, then.” Jens left the dormitory.

Now that he was alone, Robbe opened his bed to the scene outside. Light streamed in from their window. He knew he’d have to get up if he wanted to have even the slightest chance of appearing casual about this whole thing. Sander didn’t know he overheard.

Robbe wasn’t that unhappy, either, and that should be a sign that things never would have worked.

Yeah. He was fine. It was one night of making out for real.

He dragged his feet out of the blankets and to the floor. It would have been cold, were it not for Aaron’s stray clothing covering most of the wooden planks. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Robbe kicked aside his Potions textbook and watched it slide into the no-man’s-land under his bed. Fuck Potions. He didn’t need them.

He got it back out.

His trunk was a mess of overflowing shirts and trousers. He dug a Hufflepuff sweater from the mix. When he arrived back at the dormitory last night, he hadn’t the resolve to peel off the Quidditch uniform and hang it somewhere to dry. As such, it smelled like wet dog and clung to his skin in all the wrong places. Dumb fucking rain. Robbe stripped down and changed as fast as he could. He left the soggy uniform dangling from one of his bed’s pillars, then removed the dampened sheets from his mattress and tossed them to the ground with Aaron’s shit.

See, functioning like a normal human being. Nothing had changed from yesterday into today.

New plan, since clearly he was an idiot, and no plans he made worked. He would go downstairs for breakfast, spend time with Jens and Aaron, and patrol tonight with Jana as he had neglected to do for much of this week. He could study for his exams in the library, and maybe, if there was time, get in some pleasure reading.

He thought about Sander’s hands stroking his hair. Not the library, then.

After that, Zoë and Yasmina might help him with whatever else needed doing. Zoë knew his relationship with Sander wasn’t going anywhere, so she wouldn’t take much effort to be around. Yasmina had no clue. He didn’t want to have to tell her about it.

Fuck this. Fuck everything.

Robbe surveyed the room one last time, trying to muster the will to head for the Great Hall. This was his last week to be free before the end of term, before he entered the second half of sixth year and had to start thinking about his future. He should go have fun with everyone else.

He flopped back on his sheetless bed and shut the curtains.

***

Weekdays did not bring relief. Sander and Robbe shared no classes, but Robbe didn’t even see Sander in the corridors during transition periods. He almost made himself attend Potions on Monday. No dice. Britt sat in the front of the classroom, and he didn’t want to see her stupid smug expression. She knew about him, he thought, even if the fake-dating arrangement wasn’t technically over.

What would he do if he saw Sander? Would they kiss again? Would it be the normal fake relationship activities, except unburdened by Robbe’s belief it could be more? He would put up with it, of course, for a little while, until the opportunity to end it presented itself.

On Sunday night, Robbe was still haunted by Friday night’s kisses and caresses. Dreaming about them. Craving them. Missing them. On Tuesday morning, he just wanted to see Sander again. A glimpse through the railing of a changing staircase. A flicker of movement across the Great Hall. Anything.

Fate had other plans on Tuesday night. Robbe carried his textbooks to the farthest section of the library, the section that would block his view of where he and Sander sat a week ago. One fucking week. How could he have expected Sander to feel anything for him after a week or two? He whipped around the corner a little too fast and ran right into someone else, also carrying a stack of books. They collided, and their materials fell to the floor. Robbe was too caught up in his own thoughts to offer a simple apology. One fucking week.

“Ow!” the girl exclaimed. “I’m so sorry!”

“Happens to the best of us,” said Robbe. He brushed off his trousers and began to gather his things again.

“I wasn’t watching where I was going, it’s totally my mistake.”

“Now you know better for next time.” Robbe wasn’t sure why he was being so cruel. He wasn’t even that upset about Sander, not enough to channel it onto other people.

“You’re Robbe, aren’t you?”

He looked up. The girl had brown hair and a Hufflepuff tie. He didn’t recognize her, per se, but she did give off an air of familiarity. “Yes, why?”

The girl smiled and extended her hand to help him up. There was a gap between her two front teeth. “I met your boyfriend the other day. At the Quidditch match. The nosebleed section, y’know?”

Robbe remembered now. This was the girl that Sander was talking to instead of paying attention to the action unfolding in front of him. In retrospect, it was so obvious Sander was never as all-in as Robbe was. Go figure. Robbe probably looked like an idiot, what with his stupid fall-from-the-air-and-kiss-Sander plan.

“Right. You seemed to get along well,” said Robbe. There was venom there. He knew she could hear it as she pulled him to his feet. He did his best to soften the blow—it wasn’t her fault that he wasn’t good enough. “Did you enjoy the match?”

“I didn’t really get to,” she laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked your boyfriend to explain things to me. Mistake, huh?”

That was unexpected. Robbe felt a surge of protectiveness for Sander. Sander was never boring, never once, not in all the time that Robbe knew him. Robbe would have killed to be there in the stands instead of this girl, talking to Sander, lavishing in his attention.

“How?” he asked.

“What?”

“Why was it a mistake?”

“Oh.” The girl blushed. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her robe. “He didn’t talk a lot about it, if you know what I mean.” Outside in the corridor, the clock began to chime dinner. Robbe could never go to a Great Hall dinner again, not without Noor staring him down, not without Britt’s air of superiority hovering over him.

He did not know what this girl meant. He hugged his textbooks tight against his chest.

“He kind of focused on one player.”

What player? Sander was bisexual, or pansexual—he said as much to Milan on that one date. It could be anyone on Robbe’s team. It could be Jens, Aaron, heaven forbid Yasmina— and it didn’t matter. Robbe already knew.

“You,” the girl said, almost exasperated. “He wouldn’t shut up about you. Merlin’s beard, I don’t know what it is with you boys. You never understand anything.”

“Everyone under the age of twenty is a certified idiot,” Robbe recited. It was the first thing to come to mind.

“The whole game, it was all, Him there? That’s my boyfriend. That’s Robbe. Look at Robbe. Last time I try to flirt at a Quidditch game.” She reached out and gave Robbe an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Sorry to bombard you. I should get back to studying…”

“Nice to meet you,” said Robbe. She was already leaving the library by the time he realized he hadn’t gotten her name.

He passed the remainder of the evening hiding with his books in various degrees of focus. Jens stopped in at one point to bring Robbe a slab of turkey that he stole from the dinner table, and sat down for a while to chat. Jens was not in Potions. Robbe was the only bitch in their friend group who could handle Potions.

The information buzzed inside Robbe’s head. All he had to do was open his mouth, and he could get everything off his chest at once. This was so stupid. This was his whole life.

What he knew (because making a list always helped):

1. Sander was not in love with him.

2. He was in love with Sander.

3. Sander talked about him to other people.

4. He didn’t much talk to others about Sander.

5. He’d meant to taunt the boys with relationship information, and ended up lying instead.

6. Britt and Sander were probably back together.

There wasn’t any way to cover that much in the amount of time they had. Robbe let Jens quiz him on magical history. They were on the last chapters right now, the ones that covered the most recent wars.

“What was Lord Voldemort’s real name?”

Robbe blanched. “Is that a real question?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“Good. What caused his death the first time?”

“True love or something. I don’t know.”

Jens made a face. “Mm, close. It was actually sacrificial love.” He looked up from the textbook and right at Robbe. “Speaking of love—”

“Don’t say it.”

“I was just wondering,” said Jens, treading carefully, “about how you two left it.”

It wasn’t the time. Robbe hadn’t even had his sexuality crisis yet—still postponing. Let him have that, and they could talk. He couldn’t bear to hear more about Sander today. He wasn’t that upset about it, though. He wasn’t. There was a large, large difference between being upset about it and just not wanting to dish the story onto other people.

“Because I talked to Jana,” Jens continued, “and she said—well, it’s actually kind of weird because she said—she said that Britt’s…” He trailed off.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

“Whatever.” Robbe kept his composure. “I remember now. Lord Voldemort was maimed by Harry Potter’s mother’s sacrifice. She put herself between them and the curse rebounded. That right?” He raised his voice a little too much for the library standards; a few other studying students shot him dirty looks. They could suck it.

Jens put the book back on the table. “If I were you, I’d want to know, so…”

Absolutely not. Britt and Sander were not back together. Absolutely not. Robbe knew it before, but fuck, hearing it basically confirmed made him want to throw up. He felt his eyes watering—some fluke, considering this was always going to happen and he wasn’t that upset. The word “upset” lost all meaning as he repeated it in his head.

“That makes Harry Potter the first and only person to survive a killing curse,” he said. “His parents were James and Lily—”

“He told you, right?”

“Nothing to tell,” said Robbe tightly. “Keep quizzing. I’m going to fail my exams.”

Jens shook his head. “Something happened on Sunday.”

“The Potters were given up by their close friend, Peter Pettigrew. People thought it was Sirius Black.”

“Robbe, you can talk to me.”

“We’re talking right now.”

Jens grabbed Robbe by the arm. It wasn’t that they never touched each other, because they did, but the intensity in a gesture like this took Robbe a little bit by surprise. He shook his friend off. Jens held fast. He seemed to consider a thousand different comforting phrases in a moment. Finally, he settled on, “I want you to be happy.”

The slab of turkey was going cold in its napkin. Robbe would get in trouble if the librarian happened by his table and saw it there. He picked at it with his hands, because what was the use in manners? The student closest to their table grimaced as she watched.

The clock chimed nine; the library had extended hours during the week before exams. It was time for Jens to leave and hang with Moyo and Aaron, who planned to prank the Gryffindors by moving everything in their common room two inches to the left. Jens made no effort to leave his chair. He opened the book to the bookmarked page. “Fine. Okay.” The stars glittered through the library windows. It was a wonderful night for the astronomy tower. Robbe didn’t want to go anywhere with Jana if she knew about Britt and Sander. “What role did Sirius Black play in the defeat of Lord Voldemort?”

And so the evening went. Stupid fucking weekdays.

***

It was Thursday before Robbe saw Sander again. He wished he hadn’t. For the first time, Sander had his hair styled in such a way that the deep brown roots were just as visible as his bleach blond. His robes were clean. Buttoned correctly. See, here was a person who wasn’t upset in the slightest. Like Robbe. Robbe was already over it.

He froze anyway.

Here was the moment of truth: if the arrangement were still in effect, Sander would run over and kiss him. Robbe waited for it to happen. Sander did not spare him so much as a glance.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t earth-shattering. Robbe did not go to Potions.

***

Friday night was a whirlwind of Quidditch practice and exam preparation. Moyo and Aaron put their moving spell to work again in the Hufflepuff common room, doing their best to scoot everything simultaneously. It gave them away on Tuesday when things moved at separate times.

“McGonagall’s gonna make us turn cockroaches into shot glasses or something,” Moyo lamented. The couch slid a whole foot to the left, taking Jens and Robbe with it. A good five seconds later, Zoë’s chair by the table slid, too. “We can’t turn shit into shit.”

“I can turn your girl into mine,” said Aaron. Moyo smacked him in the back of the head.

Robbe ignored them to the best of his ability. There was so much he didn’t know, and only a few short days left to cram it into his head. He wasn’t sure there was space to fit it in beside Sander.

He wasn’t worried about Transfiguration—the real assignment was turning a bug of choice into an article of clothing. Moyo would be fine. They always were. History of Magic would prove slightly more difficult, if the questions were as hard as the professor bragged they would be. Charms was a breeze if he focused on it, and Herbology was easy enough that he hardly thought about it. There was only one class left to bite him in the ass.

Senne descended the stairs. “Prefect stuff, going out,” he declared. “Robbe, coming with?”

Going with Senne would mean seeing Britt. No thank you. Robbe didn’t answer. He could take Jana later, if it came down to it, but his nightly plans involved sleeping for the rest of forever. Or going to astronomy tower.

It was ages since his last trip. Surely the memory of Sander couldn’t taint the stars over still waters.

“Cool, so I’ll see you guys later, then.” Senne kissed Zoë on the forehead as he walked by. “Stick around if you want to. I won’t be long.”

The door closed behind him, and instantly, Zoë whirled to Robbe. “Isn’t that your job?”

“No,” said Robbe. He read about a Wolfsbane potion for the forty-millionth time and remembered none of it. All his other textbooks darted across his lap and off the couch, coming to rest underneath Zoë’s feet. Moyo and Aaron high-fived. Five books at once was a pretty okay feat.

“Got plans tonight, huh?” Moyo said.

Jens perked up. “Plans? Fun plans?”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. With his someone else.”

This got Zoë’s attention. She glanced at Robbe, incredulous.

“I can’t believe you’d dump Sander,” said Aaron, not really to Robbe. “He’s hot.”

“He’s a bleach-blond,” Moyo pointed out.

“That’s what I said.”

“Boys,” interjected Jens. “You’re not being subtle. Shut up.”

They returned to their studying. The common room during exam season was a new locale: several people sobbed right out in the open as they paged through books. Students sat on rugs and in the large windowsill. A group even claimed the stairs to the girls’ dormitory as their space, and cast levitating spells on a handful of marbles they’d thrown out into the air.

Robbe read the page on the Wolfsbane potion yet again and thought of Sander. All he did was think about Sander. It shouldn’t mean this much to him—he wasn’t going to cry over it. Jens’ leg pressed up against his own on the couch. Not a year ago, they were sitting on this same couch as Jens fell to pieces over Jana.

He should tell them. They had that poster board upstairs, an honest-to-God muggle poster board, with that dumb stupid plan on how to get Robbe and Sander together. Operation Sobbe. Obviously it was that. They would be okay with anything he told them, and maybe they could help him through—

There wasn’t anything to get through. Wolfsbane potions are extremely difficult to make on account of their poisonous ingredients and the expenses involved.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” Moyo said, out of the blue.

Jens didn’t look up from his book, Hogwarts: a History. “Do enlighten us.”

“Robbe. It’s really not fair.”

Robbe should tell them he should tell them he should tell them—

“Sander’s head-over-heels for him, beautiful specimen of a human being, and he gets someone else on the side.” Moyo cleared his throat to continue. “Noor wanted him, Sander wanted him, hell, half the school probably wants him. He’s flicking them off like flies.”

Now’s the moment, Robbe thought. Tell them.

Moyo’s brow furrowed. He faced Robbe, just as Robbe’s quill lept from his hand and shot three feet to the left. “Kind of weird you didn’t tell Sander. I liked him. I mention it in the hallway, and—”

“You talked to Sander?” Jens asked.

“I want to do some homework,” said Zoë. No one listened.

“No, I mean, everyone overhears things.” Moyo waved his hand in the air to clear that topic away. “I don’t think it’s fair that you get all the action and the rest of us study for our exams.” He laughed like it was funny, and, unsurprisingly, Aaron laughed too.

Say something and fucking tell them, Robbe screamed at himself. The Wolfsbane potion was invented by Mr. Belby and tastes awful.

“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” said Robbe.

“Clearly.”

“I think I hear someone at the door,” Jens said. He jumped up from the couch to answer it. Robbe felt the air get heavier between himself and Moyo, in a way he didn’t much like. The acid from the Quidditch match, from watching Britt and Sander, from Sunday morning came flooding back into his system.

Lighthearted conversation. Steer it back into lighthearted conversation.

“So—” Robbe began.

Moyo cut him off. “You had it really good.”

“Can someone help me with this Charm?” Zoë attempted. The snowball was already rolling.

“We were rooting for you,” said Moyo. “You were good together. And he clearly adores you.”

Even Aaron was uncomfortable by the shift in tone. “Moyo—”

“Hang on, hang on. The way you kissed each other, I mean, obviously.”

“We’re good at fake dating,” said Robbe, aware it sounded dumb.

“Usually when people fake-date, they don’t use tongue. You’ve been dating him. This whole time. It’s cool, it’s fine. He knew what you thought about it, and whatever. But you really believed that whole Britt excuse?” Moyo took Robbe’s silence as an answer. “Zoë says he gave this whole fucking monologue when she asked, and when he was drunk—”

“Are you slut-shaming me?”

“No, if anyone here’s a slut, that’s my title.”

“Then what are you getting at?” Robbe was three seconds away from his boiling point.

“We’re your friends, and we’ll support you no matter what. I’m trying to. I’m trying.” Moyo sighed. “That’s just… well, it’s shitty. And as a friend, it’s my job to call you out. Illuminate us, please.”

Robbe couldn’t do it. He had a whole list in his head of things to say—things he needed to say. He spent no more than two weeks kissing Sander, only one day of it real, and he missed it like a hole torn in the center of his chest. He wasn’t going to cry over it, no. He wasn’t going to be Jens right now. But fucking hell, Sander must be somewhere making out with Britt at this very moment, and all Robbe could think about was whether Sander drank coffee in the morning, the number of creams and sugars he used. Robbe was so goddamn upset that it was killing him from the inside out.

Hear that, universe? He was upset. You win.

He said the next closest thing. “You think it was my choice?”

The common room went silent. The levitating marbles clattered to the floor. Zoë and Aaron became interested in an illustration of Gillyweed in Zoë’s book.

A painting on the wall released itself from its hanging and moved one inch to the left.

“Uh, door for you,” Jens said. He reappeared, pointed back at the entrance. “You might want to… um. Yeah.” He rushed past Robbe and ushered the boys upstairs. Moyo held Robbe’s glare for a second longer. Aaron took his time, loitering at the base of the stairwell, still trying to puzzle through the conversation he witnessed. Zoë looked briefly between Jens and Robbe, concerned, and followed them out. She brought with her six or so first-years who were using the carpet to spread out all their notes. It was going to be a party in the boys’ dorm tonight.

Robbe didn’t budge from the couch. He didn’t want to see who it was. Probably Britt. Or Noor. One of them.

“Uh, Robbe?”

That wasn’t Britt’s voice. Shit. Robbe pretended not to hear. With luck, Jens hadn’t left the door open, and Sander would be stuck outside the common room for a little while. Robbe needed time to gather his thoughts after everything Moyo said. The remaining students scurried away like mice. Robbe scanned down a page of his History of Magic textbook without reading any of the words.

“Robbe, I—we should talk.” It didn’t sound any closer. Sander must be staying near the doorway. Stupid, respectful Sander.

“Busy!” he yelled back.

“It’s important.”

“So are exams.”

“Robbe, please.” This was more nervous than Robbe had ever heard Sander speak.

“Come in, then,” he invited.

“Um, I think you should come here. If that’s okay.”

It blossomed in Robbe’s chest, for a moment: the oddest sensation of irrational hope. Sander was here to admit his feelings for him. They’d go back to the workshop and kiss ‘til their fingertips burned with magic. The fake-dating thing never officially ended, Robbe thought. Therefore, everything he’d felt over the past week could just be his own taste for dramaticism. Sander didn’t want things to move to fast. It wasn’t a guarantee that he never would love Robbe—

Overthinking. Stop overthinking. “Yeah, okay, one second.”

He rose from the couch, threw open the door, and there was Sander. Eyes trained on the floor.

Fuck.

Sander was a cutout from those Hogsmede dates. He was there, but not really. Cold. He picked at something dried on the hem of his sleeve. Robbe felt himself sitting down across the Three Broomsticks table, wanting without realizing, losing without ever having in the first place. Unattainable. That always was the most important part.

No one ever looked like this when they came with good news.

Sander launched into a pre-prepared speech as soon as Robbe was in front of him. “I imagine you’ve heard by now.”

“I’m doing well, how are you?” said Robbe.

“Sometimes I make impulsive decisions, and they hurt people.” Sander sounded like he came straight from a script. Robbe wanted to pitch himself from the top of the astronomy tower. “I really don’t mean to. You didn’t deserve it. But you have to understand, I don’t—you don’t like me.”

“Are we gonna have this talk here?” said Robbe. Hearing the words from Sander’s mouth only cemented a different truth in his head. He loved Sander with everything he had.

“I mean, we could be friends, or…”

Robbe jumped in when it became clear there was no more to that sentence. “I’d rather it be over, if you don’t mind.”

“Right, over.”

They both stared at their shoes.

“I’ll go,” said Sander. And he went. No more than that. It wasn’t going to be dramatic. It was over.

Just like that.

#sobbe #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #fanfiction #requested fic #hogwarts au #wtfock #fake dating

11 notes · View notes

wreckofawriter · 5 years ago

Text

Games (soulmate au)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word count: 2,382

Warnings: Making out?

Request: hi! It’s me again, could I request a Fred Weasley soulmate au? The type where their soulmates first word’s to them is tattooed on their body? Please make it fluffy and cute, thank you! :)

A/n: I am so sorry this was late. I had a grad party I forgot about! Also I'm probably going to have the other request out on Wednesday I'm so sorry but I have another grad party 2mmaro and I wont have time to write. Hope you guys like it!

The words in Fred's ankle had always been, well controversial at his household. His mother sure didn't like them. George thought they were hilarious. Ginny thought they were almost sad, sad that was how him and his soulmate would meet. Ron agreed with George, Percy thought they were ridiculous and his other brothers thoughts were pretty neutral. Fred simply thought they were odd. And as he looked down at the words, he couldn't help but smile, this was going to be one interesting person.

You snickered watching as your seeker checked his hair in the mirror again.

"You know Malfoy maybe if you spent less time putting grease in your hair and more time practicing then we would be winning for a change."

He whipped around glaring at you. "That's not very good team spirit y/l/n." He seethed.

"And since when are Slytherins known for their teamwork?"

He rolled his eyes and snatched his broom from the rack and joined the rest of the team in the horseshoe they had made around their captain.

You glanced around trying not to look as bored as you were. You have heard it a thousand times before; kick Gryffindors ass. Nothing new, except for the fact that your seeker was almost ok and theirs was amazing. Which meant it was basically up to you to score a shit ton of points before the snitch was caught. It was all quite stressful.

As you walked out onto the pitch you heard a mix of boos and cheers, the former as always, over powering the latter. You ignored the crowd and boarded your broom. You flew a couple feet in the air and waited for the whistle. When you took a deep breath and then sped upwards. If everything went right Montague should have the quaffle ready and waiting for you. And he did. You snatched the pass and made your way toward the goals where you could see Wood waiting.

You ducked under a bulger, dodged some girl in a red uniform and made for the large hoops. You reached for the quaffle tucked under your arms and shot it in the far left hoop. It soared through and you whipped around to get back to your position.

The game had been going for hours. It was hot and sunny and you had already ditched your outer layer. Currently you had scored 160 points, you were doing pretty well. All together your team had 210 points while Gryffindor was 50 points behind. Things were looking up.

You were headed towards the hoops once again the quaffle locked securely under your arm. You were about to shoot when out of nowhere something hit you straight in your side.

You dropped the quaffle and tipped off your broom with a scream. You managed to keep your feet wrapped around the handle and was hanging there attempting to reach your arms up. When you finally did, the pounding of your heart on your ears stopped and you could hear shrieking laughter.

You turned to see Fred Weasley pointing and laughing at you.

You flashed a brilliant shade of red before shouting, "If you don't shut up Weasley I'll shove that bat up your ass."

His smile dropped. A look of absolute astonishment replaced his joyful features. He felt his heart stop. You flew away with a scoff and an eye roll, you had no clue what you had just done to that boy.

For the rest of the match Fred could simply not focus. He hardly hit any blunders and most of them were completely off target. George scolded the boy and tried to get his head back in the game but it was helpless. He wanted to say something to you but what? What could he possibly say, "Oh hey what's up, your my soulmate by the way." It was all so stupid.

Gryffindor lost when Draco caught the snitch and Slytherin was celebrating in there locker room as Oliver almost killed Fred in their locker room.

"What the hell!" He yelled at the red head. "You couldn't hit a thing this whole match!"

"Look I'm sorry. I was distracted." Fred apologized.

Oliver didn't seem to care for his apologies at all. "You were doing fine." he sighed, "And then suddenly you knock y/l/n off her broom and you cant hit the broadside of a barn with a bludger."

"Look Wood, I'm sorry." Fred apologized again trying to make it sound sincere although his thoughts were elsewhere.

"What in Merlin's name could have made you so distracted any way Fred?"

Fred paused, the whole team was listening there was no way he was saying anything. "I just umm was?" He raised his eyebrows, hoping that his captain would buy it. Which of course he didn't.

"What eas it Weasley?" Oliver practically growled

Fred cast his gaze downwards trying to aviod eye contact with anyone.

"I swear to Merlin Wweasley if you don't tell me what gave Malfoy a free ride to the snitch I will-"

"She's my soulmate alright!?" Fred yelled his patients wore through.

"Wait, y/l/n is your soulmate?" It was George talking this time. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape, he was mimicking the rest of the team.

"Yeah." Fred looked down blushing a bit, he wasn't used to these situations. "But she doesnt know so don't tell her." He added quickly.

"Alright, sorry for laying into Fred." Oliver said.

"Its fine." He waved it off. He then turned to George panick in his eyes.

"How is she my soulmate?" Fred asked his twin desperate for an answer. They were now sitting in the Gryffindor common room eating candy they got from honeydukes.

"I don't know mate, but I wouldn't be too concerned. I mean she's hot." George pointed out, stuffing a chocolate frog in his mouth.

"Yeah but she’s Slytherin." Fred groaned.

"It probably won't be that bad Fred, you are destined to be together."

"How are we destined to be together? I mean we sure as hell aren't best buds." Fred said popping a fizzing whizbee in his mouth.

"So what," George started his voice muffled by chocolate, "You'll get along, just wait till Ron finds out he'll flip."

"Ok then what should I do?" Frdd asked

"You have to talk to her idiot." George pointed out.

"WWhat do I say?" The older twin asked.

The younger just shrugged, "Wwhatever you say will be on her ankle anyway so just try and make it romantic."

"Alright." Fred said still quite unsure on what to do.

You sat in potions trying not to laugh your ass off as Angelina a girl from Gryffindor totally ditched her potion.

You had finished ages ago and were simply waiting to be dismissed. You glanced down at your watch. Five minutes.

You had been anxious to get back to the quidditch pitch. You had to get in some more practice before the next match. You were playing hufflepuff and wanted to stick iit to Cadwallader. You had five gallons on the fact you would score more points then him in the upcoming match and you'd don't lose.

So when Snape finally said you could go you practically slept from your seat in excitement.

You sprinted down the hallways as quickly as you could only run striated into someone. You fell backwards landing hard on your butt and letting out a yelp of pain. You book bag had slid across the floor and hit the opposite wall of the thin hallway.

"Oh Merlin, are you alright?" A voice asAsked and you about passed out. Those were the words on your ankle. You looked up to see a mess of red hair with matching red robes and red cheeks. His eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight as he stuck his hand out for you to grab. You felt the heat rise in your face as well, since when was Fred Weasley so attractive?

"Shit, I said something didn't I." He looked upset, as he pulled you to your feet. You felt your face grow even brighter at contact with his surprisingly soft hands.

"Uh yeah ya did." You practically whispered your y/e/c eyes big as golf balls.

"So then you know?" He asked fidgeting with his robes.

"Know what?" You asked completely bewildered by the things that had happened in the past minute.

"That your my soulmate." He laughed.

"Yeah I guess I know that." You said your mind was going crazy. Fred Weasley was your soulmate? What? I mean sure he's incredibly good looking and funny and smart and great at quidditch but, what?!

"You probably don't even know which twin I am." He laughed a bit although the idea of his soulmate not knowing who he was hurt. "Im-"

"Fred." You finished for him. "I know who you are."

"Really?" Fred asked eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah I do. Wait, how did you know o was your soulmate?"

Fred blushed as your y/e/c eyes gleamed up at him. Your y/h/l y/h/c hair framed your face beautifully and he was suddenly struck with how attractive you are. Your face was dusted pink and it made you look incredible. "Well umm, remember when I knocked you off your broom yesterday?"

"Vividly" you answer eyes narrowed a bit, your arms now crossed.

"Well afterward you said-"

"If you don't shut up Wesley I'll shove that bat up your ass." You finished for him again doing your best to contain the laughter inside you. You failed miserably and burst with giggles. He thought it was the most amazing sound to ever grace his ears.

"Wait wait wait," you managed to squeak out still giggling, "Is that seriously tattooed on your ankle?"

"Yep." And to prove it Fred pulled his sock down and showed you the words printed on to his pale skin

You burst in a wave of fresh laughter, "I'm sure your mom loves that." You said between laughs.

"Glad you find my misfortune so hilarious." Fred said rolling his eyes playfully.

"Oh come on. If it was me with those words on my ankle you would be losing your shit." You pointed out still laughing.

"Your right, I should have said something closer to, 'Look where the fuck your going." As payback." He smirked and you burst into laughter once again.

"You should have!" You were crying with joy at this point, "It would have been one hell of conversation starter!"

Now Fred was laughing too, his smile bright. He looked down at your giggling form and he was once again talking by your beauty. Your eyes shining with tears and gleaming with joy. Your extremely soft looking lips a light pink color were stretched into a wide slightly lopsided smile.

As he stared your laughter died out and you had looked back up at him, you blushed a bit to find his gaze on you, "Like what you see Weasley?" You asked a cocky smirk on your lips.

"In fact I do." He said smirking right back and leaning down a bit to be somewhat level with your eyes.

"Well you aren't exactly ugly." You bit your lip as you did so and Fred about lost it. Keep it cool he reminded himself. So instead he placed his hand over his heart dropped his mouth and blinked a few times feigning hurt.

"That's what I get as a complement?" He asked in fake surprise, "I'm offended."

"Ever the dramatic Weasley." You smirked.

"I am quite a good actor." He said leaning closer to you, you could feel his breath on your cheek and your smirk dropped. He had to know that he was doing right? That wasn't fair.

"Im good at more than acting though." He winked, smirking as you blushed a deep crimson.

You attempted to stay on track, "A-and what else might you be good at? I haven't seen much." It would have been fine if you didn't stutter but damn he was really close to you and smelled like a mix of smoke and chocolate. It was completely infatuating.

"Oh, you'll see plenty." You wanted to smack the smirk off his face. He was playing with you, but you weren't in the mood for games anymore.

"Oh shut up." You whispered face burning. With that you yanked him down to meet you lips. He was clearly taken off guard but kissed back quite quickly once your lips moved against his. He quickly pushed you up against the wall and grabbed your waist. Your hands found their way to his fiery hair, it was surprisingly soft. You felt his tongue glide against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, granting it access.

When he pulled away your lungs were burning and you gasped for air.

"I hope you know this doesn't change anything on the pitch." You said.

"Of course, I'm just going to have to make sure not to hit your face with any bludgers. Wouldn't want to ruin its beauty, would I?" He winked.

"What every weakness you show I will use to my advantage." You smirked shrugging.

"I like the sound of that." He winked again.

"Keep it up and you will only be able to blink with one eye." You said eyebrows raised.

"Winking won't do that." He pointed out.

"Yeah but me poking one of your eyes out will." You deadpanned.

"Has anyone ever told you your a little scary?" Fred asked as he leaned in again.

"Yep-" you were cut off by his lips.

"Y/l/n!"

You pushed Fred off of you to see Malfoy standing a few feet away a disgusted look etched on his face.

"Captain wants you, so get the Weasel’s tongue out of your throat so you can actually talk." He scoffed

"I'll see you later." You whispered to Fred. Before walking towards the platinum blonde. "You call him weasel again and I will cut your tongue off and make you eat it." You flashed the now terrified boy a cheeky smile and walking towards the pitch the young seeker sulking at your heels.

"See ya later Mouthful!" Fred shouted saluting the boy as he walked out the door.

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

Text

cliché

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

an au where everyone is college friends and logan is getting married and the best friend of his ellie always hated is going to be logan’s best man. as the maid of honor, she’s probably expected to be at least a little nice to him.

for @rodappreciationweek, of course! day 7/wild card

(spoiler alert: i bent the rules of weddings for plot reasons so go easy)

tags: @choicesarehard, @lovehugsandcandy, @pixeljazzy, @troublemakerinspace, @dancingboba, @yaushie, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @tempesrature, @zigtheeortega, @beccadavenport, @theeccentricbibliophile

~15.5k words | M (18+)

she squealed, clapping her hands excitedly in view of the laptop’s webcam. “i’m so happy for you guys! seriously, this is amazing.”

from across the country, ingrid beamed, still holding her left hand aloft so ellie could see her ring. “did you know?”

ellie shook her head. “i knew he’d bought a ring but i didn’t know he was proposing now.” her attention turned to logan, “i thought you were waiting until your anniversary?”

he shrugged, looking just as excited as ingrid did. “i couldn’t wait anymore, it was driving me crazy.”

ingrid leaned her head on logan’s shoulder. “ellie, say you’ll be my maid of honor.”

“oh my god, of course i will!” ellie gushed, blinking away a sudden wave of emotion. “please, you guys know i’d do anything for you.”

the two of them exchanged a glance. “glad to hear you say that,” logan said slowly, “because i already asked colt to be my best man.”

the smile dropped off her face. “are you kidding me?”

“come on, it won’t be that bad,” ingrid rushed to assure her, “you’ll hardly have to deal with him. but -- while we’re breaking bad news to you...” she pursed her lips, and then shrugged. “we already set a date, too.”

“it’s in three months,” logan interjected helpfully.

ellie felt her eyes bug out. “three months?”

“el, we got our dream venue,” ingrid sighed wistfully, “you’re going to die when you see it. it was the only saturday they had available for, like, the next five years. it’s in santa monica overlooking the water and it’s just -- it’s perfect.”

“that’s really soon,” she said dumbly, “we have a lot to do.”

“totally.” ellie watched as ingrid shifted from blushing bride in love to ruthless, no-nonsense delegator. “we’re going to cram as much of it in as we can when you’re home for spring break. i already made us appointments to go look at dresses and tuxes and then -- we’ll figure everything else out when you’re here.”

the thought of spending her spring break shopping with colt kaneko was already making a headache start to throb behind her eyes. but ingrid and logan were her best friends. and they deserved the wedding of their dreams.

she pasted the biggest, most extreme smile she could muster on her face. “sounds great, you guys.”

ellie relished the long flight home from new york to los angeles, well aware that it was probably going to be the last moment she had to relax until the end of the summer.

there had to be some irony in the fact that she was midway through pursuing her ph.d and more stressed out about her college friends’ wedding than anything else.

but her coursework was going well. everything in her life was falling into place perfectly, exactly how she’d always envisioned it.

this was the wrench in the plan. how she was supposed to make time to come back home for ingrid and logan’s wedding when she’d already committed to spending her summer in miami doing field work was a problem she didn’t need.

so she spent the flight napping, enjoying the five hours in the air as the only chance she’d get to kick back during her spring break. if she knew ingrid at all, she was going to be barking orders from the moment ellie’s feet touched orange county soil until the second they left.

still, there were at least a few hours she could spend delaying the inevitable.

riya picked her up at the airport and ellie threw herself into her arms eagerly for a giant hug. “oh my god, i am so glad to see you. thank you for picking me up -- i pretty much have bridal boot camp all week.”

“ingrid’s got it all planned out, huh?” riya asked, helping her get her suitcase in the car with a grin. “look, it probably won’t be that bad. you’re you -- when darius and i got married you were the reason we didn’t even need a wedding planner!”

“that was different,” ellie explained, as riya started driving them back to the city, “you and darius are normal. maid of honor doesn’t mean the same thing to ingrid that it meant to you, trust me.”

“well, i believe in you,” her oldest friend declared, “and even if it’s awful, just come over afterwards and we can drown ourselves in wine.”

“done and done,” she sighed. “i’m sorry i probably won’t be around much this week otherwise. i know it’s been forever since we caught up.”

“please, i can’t even imagine how busy you are,” riya said, waving her apology off, “you’re getting close to the home stretch, eh?”

ellie shrugged. “i still have two more years of study, but -- yeah, pretty much. it’s crazy.”

“so crazy,” riya agreed, “but you will absolutely see me and dare in miami as soon as you get set up there.”

the thought of it, with everything she knew was ahead of her this week, sounded like nothing short of paradise. “can’t wait,” she said genuinely, sighing as the car slowed to a stop in front of the house she’d grown up in. “wanna come in and say hi to my dad?”

“uh uh,” riya chided, “i’m done being the buffer between you two. sooner or later, you’re going to have to have that long overdue heart-to-heart.”

“okay, dr. phil,” ellie groaned, “thanks a lot.” her phone lit up with a text from ingrid as soon as she closed the car door.

be at your house in 5 it said, pulling a sigh of relief from deep within her.

saved by the bell.

ellie only had a moment to drop her bags and shout a quick hello to her dad before she heard a car horn honk and rushed back outside, leaning over the car’s center console to give ingrid a big hug hello.

“boy, am i ever glad to see you,” her friend said. “everything is already such a disaster. the venue is giving me such an attitude about moving our ceremony outside and my sister is an out of control diva who is, like, demanding to be allowed to read a poem before we say our vows and -- i swear i’ve almost killed logan at least twice.”

“wow. okay, well -- all of that sounds fixable.” though already she knew the next three months were going to be nothing like the ramp up to riya and darius’ wedding. ellie stifled a sigh.

“oh, it will be,” ingrid threatened darkly, “we’re doing everything at once today. dresses -- tuxes -- groomsmen, bridesmaids. i tried being nice about it, but do you know what i realized? some people don’t deserve to be allowed to make their own decisions. so i changed our appointment and i’m going to supervise and everyone who acts normal will be allowed to come help me pick out my dress at our new appointment on wednesday.”

ellie blinked. “whatever you want,” she said finally, her brain still working to process what the hell she was talking about, “it’s your day.”

“yes it is,” ingrid agreed viciously, “i’m glad you’re on board. come on.”

ellie followed behind her into the boutique they’d arrived at, immediately catching sight of eight or so of their closest friends from college, plus logan’s cousin and ingrid’s sister, the latter who was staring at a long, pink dress with her arms crossed petulantly over her chest. “i’m not trying that on,” she said, as ellie stepped closer, “it’s going to accentuate my shoulders.”

“look, brat,” ingrid started, lowering her voice to the dangerous timbre ellie had come to associate with group project members who weren’t pulling their own weight, “get in that dressing room and put this on right now or so help me god --”

“ellie!”

she turned around and saw logan, the distressed look on her face instantly melting into one of relief. “oh my god, hi,” she laughed, rushing over for a hug, “it’s so good to see you!”

“hey, back at you,” he grinned, “seriously, i know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your spring break, but -- thank god you’re here. ingrid needs all the help she can get.”

ellie pulled out of his arms and saw that he was wearing an elegant black tuxedo, the lines of which settled nicely on his shoulders and seemed to suit him perfectly. “okay, but -- this is a great tux.” she called out to ingrid over her shoulder. “come look at this one.”

ingrid walked over and gave logan a cursory glance. “i hate it. get changed.”

logan shot her an amused glance, but dipped back into the dressing room without a word. bless him, ellie thought, before drawing in a deep breath and asking, “okay, where do you want me?”

as if on cue, a harried shop attendant immediately dropped a pile of gowns into ellie’s arms. “follow me.”

the first dress she tried on was bright pink and heavily ruffled -- so ugly she honestly didn’t even want to show everyone.

but she hitched up the skirt and stepped out of the dressing room obligingly, standing in front of the mirrors and the rest of the bridal party for ingrid’s judgment.

you have the ideal body type, ingrid had explained nonsensically to her as they herded her off with the gowns, so you’ll try on all of them and then once we find one we like everyone else will try it on, too.

ugh. “it’s not... that bad,” ellie said delicately, once she was situated on the platform in front of the group.

“not if you’re little bo peep.”

god. she’d know that smug, arrogant, self-centered, self-obsessed, narcissistic egomaniac voice anywhere.

“hi, colt,” ellie said pointedly, without turning her head, “nice to see you, too.”

he stepped closer, directly into her field of vision. there was no avoiding looking at him, then.

colt was just as handsome as he’d been the last time she’d seen him, over a year ago at logan’s twenty-fifth birthday party, but this time, he was in a navy blue tux that had no business looking as good as it did.

he smirked at her. “as if anyone could miss you in that thing.”

ellie sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. formalwear could only go so far when it came to making him appear tolerable, it seemed. “do you always have to be the most insufferable person in every room you’re in?”

“not always, no. but i like to win.”

“it’s disgusting,” ingrid declared abruptly, before ellie could snap back at him, “please take it off. can you try on the purple one next?”

she ducked back into the dressing room, thunking her head softly against the wall once the door swung shut behind her. why me, ellie thought miserably, i’m a good person. this isn’t fair.

it took two and a half hours, but eventually, she’d tried on what felt like every single dress at the store. finally, once she’d wiggled into a gown that was a soft, sky blue, figure-hugging with thin straps and delicate lace accents over tasteful cut-outs, ingrid gasped, “that’s it! that’s the one.”

every bridesmaid, including ellie, sagged with relief. “great,” she smiled, “i’ll just get out of the way so everyone else can try theirs on, too.”

just before she stepped back inside the dressing room to get changed, she caught sight of colt, who was still standing around on their side of the shop for some reason. he was staring at her, face carefully blank -- though there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place.

as soon as he noticed she’d caught him looking, he stormed off.

once ellie was back in her street clothes, ingrid said, “i’ll finish up over here. can you please go make sure the guys are on the right track?”

ellie winced as she approached the men’s side of the store. half of logan’s groomsmen were dressed in navy, the other half in black -- logan had a white jacket on and one of their friends from college, brent, was inexplicably wearing pants that were powder blue.

“oh my god, ingrid’s going to kill you,” she said to logan. “i can see why she sent me over here to babysit.”

“hey, i’ve got it sort of under control,” logan said defensively, “she said she wanted slate grey. look at this.”

ellie cringed again as he held a jacket on a hanger aloft in front of her eyes. “that’s charcoal grey.”

the determined look on logan’s face crumpled immediately. “fuck. can you help me?”

she was already nodding before he finished his question. “just -- get in there and get that off before anyone sees. i’ll pull tuxes for everyone.”

it was only a few minutes before she was passing out new outfits, herding each of logan’s groomsmen into their respective dressing rooms one by one.

only one of them gave her any trouble about it. as soon as she passed him his tux, colt scowled, asking, “what is this?”

“a tuxedo,” she answered tersely, “presumably you’ve seen one before? like, an hour ago? those are all called tuxedos. maybe you never learned the word?”

he merely rolled his eyes at her. “why are you giving it to me?”

“because i want you to put it on. now. like, immediately.”

still, he just stood there. “i already tried on forty of them.”

“then one more shouldn’t make much of a difference.” she shoved his shoulder expectantly. “go.”

ingrid wandered over just as they all started to emerge. as they stood in a line outside the dressing room, she laid a hand to her heart and gasped. “oh my god, they’re perfect. baby, you did such a good job!”

“actually --” logan started, though he stopped abruptly as soon as he caught sight of the way ellie was frantically shaking her head from behind ingrid’s back, “uh, thanks. i want everything to be perfect for you.”

“oh my god, you guys can do something right,” ingrid sniffed, “i’m so happy. okay -- fuck it, let’s go get drinks. i’ll get the first round.”

a few of their friends cornered her as soon as she got her first drink. it was the same every time she came home; everyone wanted to know how new york was, how school was going, what the dating pool was like on the east coast and if she’d met anyone. they asked the same questions every time ellie was able to make it out so they could catch up, and she gave the same answers.

it was exhausting. she gulped down her glass of wine as quickly as humanly possible, just so she could have an excuse to escape back to the bar.

the bartender slid her a shot when he passed her refilled wine glass back to her. his smile was sympathetic. “you look like you need this.”

ellie grimaced at him, but immediately lifted the shot to her lips and knocked it back. “that obvious?”

“oh, yeah.” he placed his palms on the bar top and leaned in close, grinning brightly at her. “let me guess. family reunion?”

“worse,” she sighed, “two of my best friends from college are getting married. in three months.”

he whistled, slowly shaking his head. “brutal. i don’t think we have enough alcohol in the bar to help you with that.”

“tell me about it,” ellie laughed, taking a sip from her wine glass to chase away the burn of the shot she’d done, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

“well...” he smiled charmingly at her again. “my shift is over in twenty minutes. i’ll gladly listen to you complain, if you want.”

she blinked. “oh, i --”

“hey, don’t look now, but that guy over there has the angriest eyebrows i’ve ever seen.” the bartender leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “boyfriend?”

“what?” ellie turned around and followed the line of his gaze.

sure enough, colt was glaring at them from the booth with the rest of their friends, his eyebrows drawn together thunderously.

“oh my god, no,” she said, turning back around as quickly as possible, “never. we don’t even like each other.”

“right. well -- listen. if you do wanna pick this up some other time, here’s my number, okay? no pressure.”

she watched, dumbfounded, as he wrote it down on a cocktail napkin, printing his name evenly below it. ben.

all the girls cheered for her when she got back to the table.

“is that a phone number?” julia demanded, her grin wide and wickedly sharp. she reached over and plucked the napkin out of her hand. “jesus, ellie. you’ve been back in the city for, what, an afternoon?”

“give it,” she said, stepping forward as the rest of the girls passed it around the table, out of her reach, “oh my god, he was just being nice.”

“no, please,” gemma laughed, holding the napkin up over her head, “tell us again how you’re too busy to date.”

“i am too busy to date.” she bounced up on her toes and snatched the cocktail napkin out of her friend’s hand, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of her jeans. “and i live across the country, remember?”

“hey, that doesn’t mean you can��t have some fun while you’re home this week, right?” brent asked, making her aware, all at once, that the guys were officially clued into their conversation, too. “speaking of, ryan moore keeps asking me about you.”

beyond brent’s shoulder, colt was still staring at her. he looked tense, his grip firm on the glass in his hand. his jaw was clenched tight.

“can we talk about something else?” ellie asked finally, lifting her wine glass to her flushed cheek. “my love life can’t be that interesting to you guys.”

logan reached out and ruffled her hair. “hey, you’re our last single friend. you can’t blame us for being invested.”

“colt’s single,” she reminded him, before she could bite her tongue. ellie risked another glance his way and found him scowling at her.

“colt doesn’t count,” ingrid interjected, “he doesn’t have any social skills. you are a catch. you just need to put yourself out there.”

“and i promise, once i have my ph.d, you can set me up with anyone you want.” a discussion they’d had at least a thousand times before. ingrid looked as pleased about it as she’d ever been, which was to say not very much at all. before she could respond, ellie continued, “hey, will someone please play pool with me? i haven’t shot in forever.”

to her surprise, colt offered, “i will.” ellie slowly turned towards him and found him smirking at her again. “who knows what’d happen to your virtue if you went over there alone?”

fucker. he’d probably volunteered to go with her on purpose -- now there was no way for her to get out of it. and if she stayed at the table for one minute longer she was going to scream.

her eyes narrowed at him. “thanks.”

colt set up the table like she wasn’t glaring at him bitterly, humming to himself while he racked the balls and then passed her a cue.

“you’re awful,” she said, as she snatched it out of his hands.

he just grinned at her. “thank you. break?”

ellie leaned over the table to line up her shot, knocking the cue into the balls. two of the solids slid into the corner pockets. her hip leaned against the table as she watched him survey the setup critically, and she took advantage of the fact that his eyes were elsewhere to study him in turn, making note of what was different about him since the last time they’d seen each other.

he’d recently gotten a haircut, but was otherwise unchanged -- he wore the same leather jacket, had the same smug smile, was still so insufferably arrogant she found talking to him pretty much impossible.

“so, what’s your deal?” he asked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts and knocking the striped number eleven ball smoothly into one of the side pockets, “you a rocket scientist or whatever yet?”

ellie rolled her eyes, trying not to flush when he lifted his head and looked directly at her. despite his many, many flaws, she’d always found him unnervingly hot. “my degree is in chemistry. so -- no. i still have two more years in the program.”

“yeah, but what are you going to do with it? once you’re a doctor.” even the way he said the word sounding mocking.

she ignored him in favor of focusing on the table, and knocked one of her balls in. once it was his turn to shoot, she answered, “if you need to know, my specialization is in environmental science. one day i’ll hopefully work alongside some of the best in the world to ensure environmental hazards are at an all time low.”

“so whaddya moving to miami for?” he asked, effortlessly sinking two balls into the pocket at once, “their environment is already pretty sweet.”

“the department is sending me to collect data from the water and air outside of the city,” she answered, her eyes on the table as she tried to locate her next best shot, “it’s for my dissertation. it’s only for the summer.”

“shame,” colt murmured, laughing under his breath when her next shot went wide, missing her target completely, “i’ll be stuck dealing with this mess on my own.”

“somehow i doubt that,” ellie said, “it’s only a timezone change. there’s still phones and video calls and plenty of ways for all of you to bother me.”

“only if you pick up.” smoothly, he sunk the last three striped balls, one after another. she scowled at him. “the way the rest of them talk about how hard you are to pin down you’d think you were the president or something.”

“i have a demanding course load,” she huffed out defensively, “so we should get started on planning their bachelor and bachelorette party before my flight back on sunday. that should be the only thing that’s still up in the air after all our appointments this week.”

“don’t even get me started on the concept of a joint bachelor party,” colt sighed, leaning over in front of the eight ball, “it’s going to be the lamest trip of all time. side pocket.”

“i don’t know,” ellie murmured, resting on her cue as the eight ball sailed effortlessly into the side pocket as indicated, “i think it’ll be fun.”

he straightened up and smirked at her, spreading his hands out wide as if to say look at me. what an asshole. “you would.” colt nodded at the table. his smirk lengthened. “looks like you still suck.”

ellie shoved her pool cue back into his open hand. “one thing you’ll never know,” she promised, spinning on her heel and striding back to the table as quickly as possible.

“thanks for all your help today,” ingrid said sweetly on the drive home. “i know it wasn’t easy -- dealing with my idiot sister and all of those guys.”

“colt was as terrible as ever,” she mused, officially thinking too much about it. “i don’t know how he never gets tired of himself. he is such a prick.”

“totally,” ingrid agreed, even though ellie knew she’d softened to him, lately -- though she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand why or how. “but he just picks on you because he likes you.”

ellie lifted her head from where it’d been leaning against the passenger side window and turned towards ingrid with a look of confusion contorting her expression. “what? no.”

“yes,” she insisted, “he’s wanted to bang you since freshman year.”

“okay -- you’re too drunk to be driving,” ellie laughed, though even she could hear the undercurrent of nerves in the tone of her voice, “he’s an asshole to everyone. it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“well, he sure doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you.”

ellie waved her hand dismissively. “because you and logan have been dating for, like, a hundred years. i’m positive he’s just as big a dick to gemma and julia and christie.”

“okay,” ingrid mouthed, arching her eyebrows at the road.

she furrowed her brow. “he is.”

“forget i said anything,” ingrid said breezily as the car slowed to a stop in front of her dad’s house. “i’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, okay? seriously, thanks again for all your help.”

“anytime.”

dread filled her stomach as ellie dragged her feet up the path to the house. all the lights were on inside, which meant her dad was still awake. “hey pumpkin,” he greeted her, as soon as she toed off her shoes and dropped her bag, “long day?”

“you have no idea.” ellie walked straight to the sofa and flung herself down onto it face-first, groaning into the cushions. for a moment, it felt like she was back in high school, without a care in the world other than coursework and group projects and prom. she drew in a deep breath. “planning this wedding is going to be a headache.”

“you’ll pull through,” her dad assured her, “you always do.”

ellie pressed her forehead to the fabric of the couch and scowled, the freedom of her hair covering her face allowing her to express how she really felt. that was what everyone always said: she’d be fine. she’d figure it out. she’d make it happen.

part of her was so tired of always bending over backwards, always finding a way to make things work -- always being perfect.

some first day back it was shaping up to be.

“i guess,” she mumbled, letting herself sulk for one more long moment before finally lifting her head and sitting up straight. “are you working tonight?”

“yep -- on my way out now. glad i caught you, though. i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever.”

she winced, turning away from the disappointment in his eyes. “ingrid has a pretty full schedule for us this week, but maybe we can have dinner tomorrow.”

“sure thing,” her dad said brightly, pausing by the couch on his way out the door to gently grasp her shoulder. “i’ll see you in the morning, then. hang in there, kid.”

ellie slumped back into the couch, watching him go blankly. half of her was so exhausted she couldn’t imagine doing anything other than collapsing into bed for as long as humanly possible, but the other half of her still felt anxious and unsettled, the way she always did whenever she had to come home.

being back in los angeles always felt like losing control of her life. there was something about being around her old friends and her dad and other people’s expectations that made her feel not like herself -- like some kind of persona she was putting on so everyone would perceive her a certain way.

so she could look like she had everything figured out, so everyone would keep saying you’ll pull through. you’ll figure it out. you’ll make it happen.

the thought of keeping it all up for an entire week of wedding activity with ingrid and their college friends was daunting. worse still was ingrid and logan’s engagement party on friday night, hanging over her head as the last obstacle between her and her flight home to the solace of her silent new york apartment, where she’d be able to analyze soil samples in peace until her mind was quiet again.

the week passed by in a blur. true to form, ingrid kept her busy for a majority of her waking moments with dress shopping, fittings, a trip to the venue, the florist and the bakery and, finally, last-minute preparations for friday’s engagement party, which left ellie tying ribbons around party favors late into the night on thursday.

“i could kill logan,” she complained to riya in the middle of the one free hour she’d been able to steal away for a mani-pedi, “i swear to god i’ve been playing the part of the fiance since i got back.”

“it’ll all be over soon,” riya hummed sympathetically, “the wedding will be here before you know it.”

as she dressed for the engagement party, she repeated the words to herself over and over again in the mirror. it’ll all be over soon.

she arrived at the venue early. the first person she saw after she stepped out of her rideshare was colt, who was loitering by the entrance to the restaurant, smoking.

“some dress,” he smirked at her as soon as she got close enough to hear him, not even bothering to pretend like he wasn’t looking her up and down, “you trying to get laid tonight?”

“you know, ‘hello’ works just fine, too,” she said, pushing past him without a backwards glance. her face felt hot as she considered the comment, looking down at herself self-consciously. fuck him. i look nice.

fortunately, the party itself was less exhausting than she’d expected it to be. it was actually sort of nice to catch up with people she hadn’t seen since they’d graduated, and though she had to run through the familiar talk track she was getting sick of over and over again -- how’s school? how’s new york? what are your plans for after your thesis? -- the open bar made her hate it all a little less.

eventually things started to wind down, until it was late and only the wedding party was left. ellie teetered in her heels as she pretended to help ingrid clean up, shuffling around as inconspicuously as she could manage, given the drinks she’d had.

“are you drunk?”

she jumped, startled by the question. ellie’s lips pulled down into a frown as she noticed the out-and-out delighted expression on colt’s smug face from where he was suddenly standing next to her.

“no,” she lied, “and shhh. someone will hear you.”

“god forbid.” the shit eating grin on his face stretched further. “you want a ride home?”

ellie blinked. “from you?”

colt wasn’t at all deterred by the high arch of her eyebrows. he shrugged. “if we get out of here now we can probably avoid carrying presents to the car.”

that was all it took to convince her. she followed him out to the parking lot with a laugh, drawing up short when he stopped her in front of his motorcycle. she propped a hand on her hip and asked, “you still ride this thing?”

“it’s part of my image,” he answered, and as he came closer ellie found herself staring at the gentle slope of the smirk on his face. maybe it was the low lighting of the parking lot, but he looked a little softer than he had all week -- almost like when she’d first met him, in college, before he opened his mouth to say something rude and their relationship devolved into exchanged barbs and sidelong glares.

colt cleared his throat, looking down at the helmet in his hands. “here.”

she flushed, pulling it on as quickly as possible in the hopes that it’d cover her face before he noticed.

in all the years she’d known him she’d never actually gotten on the back of this thing. she’d seen him pull up to parties and speed away from them with plenty of girls holding onto his stomach, but she’d never actually thought she’d be one of them herself.

the bottle of wine she’d had was making it seem like no big deal, though, so she pressed up snugly behind him and rested her cheek on his shoulder like they’d done this enough times to form a habit.

and then they were back at her dad’s house, so quickly that ellie was almost sad about it. colt was actually mostly alright when he was quiet -- the speed of the bike hardly facilitated conversation -- and he was warm and solid against her while he drove, comforting her to the point that she was half asleep when they finally stopped.

she slid off the bike with a yawn, clumsily yanking the helmet off and handing it back to him. “thanks,” she murmured, glancing at the house and cringing once she realized all the lights were still on, meaning her dad was waiting up for her again. ellie lingered silently beside him, fidgeting.

colt hesitated. after a moment, he killed the engine. he pulled his own helmet off so she could see his face. “you okay?”

“yeah.” she pursed her lips, then exhaled, blowing a messy lock of hair out of her eyes. “i guess i am a little drunk.”

his lips pulled back into that stupid, familiar smirk. “i know. i saw you guzzling chardonnays back there.”

ellie leaned in over the handlebars. “stalk me much?”

“you wish.”

movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye and ellie sighed as she saw the curtains shift. colt followed her gaze to the house, then turned back towards her with an eyebrow quirked.

“is there a reason you’re still standing here?”

she rolled her eyes at him. “it’s complicated.”

he laughed. it was after midnight, and the sleepy street she’d grown up on was completely silent and dark, save for that sound. “don’t tell me little miss perfect has daddy issues.”

“what, you thought you had the monopoly on them?” she shot back, too drunk to stop herself.

surprise flashed across his expression for a split second before he laughed again. “touché,” he murmured, “i probably deserved that.”

ellie still didn’t move, standing at the front of the bike. they stared at each other, silence hanging in the air between them. it had to be the longest amount of time they’d gone without arguing since their freshman year.

that felt like a lifetime ago, but she still remembered what she’d thought when they first met at orientation.

cute, and then, once she found out that he was in the honors college like her, and smart, and eventually, once he opened his mouth, but a jerk.

“what are you staring at?” he asked finally, and though he was difficult to read on even her best day, when she had one-hundred percent of her faculties intact, she was pretty sure there was no malice in his voice -- just genuine curiosity.

“nothing. you’re being weird.”

he laughed again. it took her a moment to realize why it sounded so different than it usually did; most of the time he was laughing at her. but not tonight. “no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“okay -- you’re trashed. do you need me to walk you inside?”

all the lights were still on. yeah, that was just what she needed. the thought of colt and her father coming face-to-face made her own mouth curve into a grin. “no. but thanks for driving me home. that was almost decent of you.”

“well, i’d hate to be fully decent.” even his smile was different when he wasn’t making fun of her.

ellie forced herself to take a step away, though it was difficult -- some strange magnetic pull seemed to want to keep her in his orbit, to see if she could maybe make him laugh softly at her again.

as soon as she stepped back, the bike roared to life, though he didn’t pull out of the street until she’d wobbled all the way up the path to the front door and turned back to wave at him.

huh, she thought to herself as she ducked inside, wine-drunk acid swirling in her stomach with something else unidentifiable along for the ride, weird.

it wasn’t until she was tucked in bed that she privately acknowledged to herself, nice, though, too.

as expected, ingrid filled the weeks after her spring break with questions and complaining and dozens of skype calls.

ellie did her best to balance it all with school, which was ramping up as they got closer to the end of term, and packing for her move to miami, though on any given day she felt torn in at least ten different directions while she struggled to get everything together.

the sound of another incoming facetime call was going to haunt her nightmares. with a groan, ellie fumbled for her phone blindly, not taking her eyes off the instant noodles slowly spinning in her microwave.

“what now?”

“hello to you, too,” said a voice that definitely wasn’t ingrid’s, and ellie turned her head to see colt staring at her expectantly from the screen of her phone, jolting both from the surprise of seeing him and the sound of the microwave going off.

“colt?” she blinked, suddenly aware that she was in her pajamas and tugging self-consciously at the cropped tank top she was wearing. “what do you want?”

“we have to go over some things for the bachelor party,” he sighed, and when he shifted she saw that he was reclining in bed. her face flushed.

“bachelor and bachelorette party,” she corrected.

“whatever. is now a good time?”

ellie cast a glance around her apartment, which looked like a tornado had recently swept through it. her kitchen table was covered in textbooks and pages of notes, though the living room had half-packed boxes covering every available surface. “i guess. one second.”

she set her phone down to retrieve her instant noodles and then leaned it up against her toaster, standing in front of the counter to both stay in her phone’s field of view and shovel noodles into her mouth as quickly as possible.

“seriously?” colt said, “isn’t it ten p.m. where you are?”

“i’ve been busy,” ellie answered defensively, between bites, “some of us have lives.”

he rolled his eyes. “did you book your flight yet?”

she paused, fork halfway to her lips. had she booked her flight yet? “i think so.” ellie pursed her lips, and then remembered, “yes! it gets in at seven. i’ll meet you guys at the hotel.”

“okay. the rest of us are driving down together, god help us all.” he scowled.

“relax. it’s only, like, four hours to vegas, anyway.” she was the one who was going to lose two entire days to travel and timezone changes.

“do you want to sit in a car for four hours with everyone?” he smirked at the look that crossed her face. “i didn’t think so. how are the dinner reservations coming along?”

“good,” she nodded. at least she’d remembered to do that. “we’re all set for friday and saturday night. we can walk to both restaurants from the hotel.”

colt had been adamant about planning everything else, and she’d been all too happy to let him take the reigns. the last thing she needed to worry about was getting them into nightclubs and securing bottle service and busting her ass only for him to ultimately turn his nose up at it and declare the whole thing lame.

“that should be everything, then.” she just barely saw the way he narrowed his eyes at her when she tipped her head back to get the last of the styrofoam cup of noodles down her throat. “except for whatever girly shit you have planned.”

“hey, you’re going to have to be the one to tell logan that your bad attitude is what got all of you excluded from mani-pedis and facials,” she shrugged, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning in toward the screen. “just so you can do what on saturday? smoke cigars and play darts?”

“someone has to draw the line somewhere,” he said, revisiting the argument they’d had at least four or five times since she was home the month before.

“you’re impossible,” she sighed, her mouth stretching with a wide yawn. ellie pulled a face at herself, shaking her head. she had at least another two hours of coursework to do once they hung up.

“you’re the one who looks about ten seconds away from combusting,” he smirked. “you can say no to things, you know.”

“i’m fine,” she insisted, “and i do say ‘no’ to things. when i have to.”

“right. it’s not like we haven’t known each other for eight years or anything.”

ellie rolled her eyes at him, her cheeks still flushed red. like he’d paid attention to anyone other than himself and whatever girl he was fucking when they were in college. “everything’ll calm down after the wedding.”

“whatever you say,” he shrugged, “just don’t miss your flight to vegas, okay? i’m going to need someone to talk to who doesn’t make me want to blow my brains out.”

what? colt hung up just as she opened her mouth to respond, leaving ellie staring at her phone background in confusion.

she took one last glance around her apartment, slowly trailing her eyes over the dishes in the sink, the schoolwork on her kitchen table, the piles of shoes that had to be bubble-wrapped and boxed up in her living room.

then ellie turned on her heel and headed off to bed. for once, it felt pretty fucking good to do the wrong thing.

when her flight got in she sent logan a long, detailed text with all the information he could possibly need -- what time her rideshare was going to get to the hotel and how much time she was going to need to get up to the room and get changed -- and asked where she should meet everyone when she was done.

his response was two short words. casino. craps. typical.

she rushed to get into her dress and get some makeup on and found everyone standing around the same table when she got downstairs. of course, the only available space was just to colt’s left. ellie squeezed in with a grin. “hi!”

“hey, you made it!” eager cheers from around the table greeted her and the tight hugs she was forced into let her know that she had a backlog a few drinks deep to catch up on.

when she turned back around, colt shoved his hand in her face. there was a pair of dice sitting in his palm. “blow,” he said, staring at her expectantly.

“excuse me?”

“blow,” he repeated, smirking at her, “it’s for luck.”

“i’m not going to --”

“come on, ellie,” logan grinned, “he’s up, like, two thousand dollars. you have to!”

“this is so demeaning,” she grumbled, but pursed her lips and blew on the dice as requested. colt stared at her the entire time, not even breaking eye contact to roll.

it was only when the croupier said, “another easy eight,” and the table broke out into cheers that he looked away, directing his gaze down at the stack of chips that was pushed over to him.

“okay, what’s the next one?” he asked, taking the dice into his hand again.

“huh?”

“what am i rolling?”

“oh.” ellie glanced around the table and found everyone looking at her expectantly. “seven.”

“okay, any seven.” colt shook the dice in his hand, then held them out to her again. “come on.”

she leaned in a little closer. “you know, i’d love a drink at some point.”

“if we get this one i’ll find you a whole bottle of dom,” he promised. “blow.”

ellie blew on the dice. she grabbed colt’s arm anxiously as they waited for them to land.

they did, a moment later. she craned her neck and saw them facing up, over the line -- five and two.

all the noise they were making was starting to draw a crowd. ellie found herself sharing a grin with colt when he looked back at her again.

“another seven,” she instructed, head already bowed towards his hand.

he rolled a three and a four. the people gathering around the table were enraptured.

she blew on the dice again. a one and a six.

the forearm of his jacket had indents where her hand kept grabbing at it frantically, but colt never showed any outward signs of nervousness. if anything, he seemed to get more and more excited as ellie called out the numbers and he rolled them, one after another -- an eight. a six. a ten. another seven.

“holy shit, that’s twenty thousand dollars,” ingrid breathed finally, her mouth open in shock.

colt picked the stack of chips up, nodding at the roulette table behind them. “come on.”

“where are we going?” ellie asked, but followed him to the table anyway, her heart racing. all of their friends fell in line around them, hushed.

“we’re gonna double it,” he smirked. “red or black?”

“you’re going to bet it all?” her eyes went comically wide.

“ellie, red or black?”

everyone within hearing distance, including the attendant, was staring at her. she looked down at the table, and then at the screen, which was displaying the outcome of the last few rounds. her mind raced as she tried to calculate all the ways it could become more complex than just a fifty-fifty probability.

colt noticed her staring and shook his head at her. “just pick.”

“black,” she blurted out, and watched in horror as he dropped the entire stack of chips down onto her choice. “oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

his arm wound around her waist as the ball dropped into the table and started to roll around. instead of recoiling, ellie held onto him in return, digging her nails into the fabric of his suit as she stared.

there was dead silence at the table when the ball dropped neatly into the slot.

“twenty-nine,” the dealer announced, smiling at the both of them. “black.”

sound exploded all around them. their friends were jumping all over colt and the table, clapping him on the back, cheering and screaming. the spectators who’d been watching them joined in, and ellie couldn’t stop a deliriously joyful laugh from escaping as she looked, beaming, from the stack of chips on the table to colt’s face.

he was already grinning at her, and reached out to shove her shoulder excitedly before pulling the chips off the board and towards their end of the table -- four stacks of ten.

logan pushed between them, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “jesus christ. that was insane. way to make an entrance, el.”

“me?” she demanded incredulously, “what kind of person puts twenty thousand dollars on black?”

“what can i say,” colt shrugged, eyes still bright when they settled on her again, “i’m reckless.”

well, that was the understatement of the century. she slowly shook her head as the rest of the players at the table moved on to the next round. “i can’t believe that just happened.”

colt reached out and grabbed her wrist, then unceremoniously dropped five chips into her palm. “here. your cut.”

ellie blinked down at her hand like she’d never seen a casino chip before. “five thousand dollars?”

“hey, all you did was blow on some dice.”

“no, i --” she shook her head, trying to shove the chips back onto his pile with a laugh, “you don’t need to do that. it was fun.”

he shrugged. ellie watched in surprise as colt smiled at her, fixated on the upturned corners of his mouth. “whatever. remember i did the next time you’re pissed at me.”

colt walked off before she could try giving the money back to him again. she stared down at the chips in her hand for a moment, staring at all the zeroes that looked back up at her.

if what had just happened was any indication, it was probably going to be a strange weekend.

after dinner they went to a nightclub. her buzz was kicking in, so the lights and the music hardly bothered her as much as they might have on a normal night, and though she was loathe to admit it, colt had actually done a pretty nice job setting everything up. they had a booth to themselves and bottle service with sparklers, themed shots and props for both logan and ingrid -- sashes and buttons and crowns for the both of them.

seeing how happy everyone was made all the aggravation of the last six weeks worth it. before she knew it, she’d had more shots than was probably wise and her feet were killing her from dancing, leaving her flushed and sweaty when she stumbled back to the table.

as soon as she sat down, ingrid rushed over and grabbed her arm. “come on! i want to introduce you to a hot guy!”

“no,” ellie moaned, digging her heels into the booth while ingrid tried to drag her out of it, “stop, we’ve been dancing for hours. i need five minutes.”

“okay, but he’s so hot,” ingrid insisted, “and you could get laid tonight!”

“or we could just enjoy your bachelorette party!” she screamed back, over the music, “that’d be so fun, too.”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” ingrid sighed, dropping down dramatically into the booth beside her. "look, he’s right over there.”

ellie followed the line of her eyes and saw an admittedly very hot guy standing with a few of their friends. she lifted her hand and waved at him, and he smiled charmingly back at her, waving in return.

from behind her hand, when she pulled it in to cover her mouth, ellie said to ingrid, “he looks kind of stupid.”

“oh my god,” ingrid groaned again, “forget it. i’m done trying to set you up.”

before she could argue further, logan ran over to refill his drink and pulled ingrid back up to her feet, dragging her away from the booth and back onto the dance floor.

ellie watched them go, then turned her eyes to the half-full bottle of vodka in the ice bucket on the table. she was in the middle of trying to decide whether or not she was one drink away from puking when colt walked up to her.

“hey, loser. you wanna dance?” he asked, just as she made up her mind and reached for the bottle. he wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the music, but ellie could see the shape of his mouth make each word clearly, mostly because she tilted her head up to stare at him in complete confusion as soon as he got close.

“with you?”

“i thought you were supposed to be smart,” he said, and she recognized the easy grin on his face from dozens of late nights out with all their friends in college; he was drunk. “come on.”

she stumbled to her feet and followed him without thinking too much about it, even though there was no way their friends weren’t looking at them as they found a spot on the dance floor together.

“you know how to dance?” ellie asked, blinking down at colt’s hands, which settled confidently on her waist, in absolute, total surprise, “since when?”

“since always,” he answered, lowering his mouth to her ear, “you just repress all my positive traits.”

“you don’t have any positive traits,” she shot back, though she gave in and wound her arms around his neck a moment later, letting him pull her in close.

“ouch,” colt murmured softly into her ear, and ellie sunk her teeth into her bottom lip at the low tone of his voice and its proximity. “that really hurts.”

her head tipped back to stare up at the flashing lights in the ceiling. colt didn’t say anything -- of course, he loved to get the last word -- and after a moment she forgot how utterly strange it was to be close to him at all and let herself enjoy the dance, smoothly moving her hips against his.

it was unnatural how natural it felt. she was dancing with colt kaneko -- it should have felt insane. they didn’t dance together. they didn’t get along.

except that evidently they did, and she kind of liked it, too.

when he dragged everyone out of the nightclub at three o’clock in the morning he wouldn’t tell them where they were going. even ellie was surprised to hear about a planned part two of the evening, though the way he seamlessly swiped a bottle of dom perignon from a table they passed on their way to the door and presented it to her as soon as they stepped back into the lobby of the hotel made her laugh with her whole body.

“you didn’t even pay for it,” she grinned, cradling it in her arms like a baby.

he looked around, then started leading everyone down a side hallway. “i never said i would. hang on.”

logan caught on as soon as they all stopped in front of the fancy glass doors marked pool, and ellie kept watch at the end of the hallway while the two of them worked to get the door open. one by one, their friends filed quietly inside to the hotel’s closed indoor pool, giggling while they stripped out of their clothes.

“this feels illegal,” ellie said, while ingrid helpfully lowered the zip on her dress for her, “no?”

“it’s only a crime if you get caught,” logan answered, running past and jumping in the pool directly in front of where they were standing at its edge, splashing them both.

“oh, you’re in for it,” ingrid promised, jumping off after him.

ellie self-consciously pulled her dress off the rest of the way, walking over to the steps and wading into the shallow end carefully. she swam out to join the rest of the group, head spinning from the drinks she’d had.

“hey.”

she turned around and came face-to-face with colt again, staring at what she could see of his bare chest, sticking out of the dark water before averting her eyes with a flush. “we’re totally all going to jail,” she said, apropos of nothing.

“that’s the plan,” colt returned, still smiling that easy, open smile. but he’d always been a lot more fun to hang out with when he was drunk.

“why’re you being so nice to me?” ellie asked abruptly, reaching out to hold onto the pool wall and treading water to stay afloat in front of him. “it’s weird.”

colt laughed. his own arm braced on the side of the pool beside hers, and she looked over at the way the water slid of his muscles, her mouth suddenly dry.

“guess i like the reactions i get,” he answered, effortlessly short-circuiting her brain as she tried to figure out what the fuck that was supposed to mean. “plus, it looks like you’re my good luck charm.”

“that was pretty crazy,” she acknowledged with a soft smile of her own, “i’ve never done anything like that before.” in fact, it’d been almost more excitement than she could handle.

“there’s so much i could show you.”

the look in his eyes was intense -- searching. she wasn’t sure what to say, but fortunately the noise from the rest of their friends splashing around covered the too-loud pounding of her heartbeat as he stood there staring down at her.

it was the most alive she’d felt in months. before tonight, she hadn’t even thought she’d want a break from her routine -- from school, from her work, from everything that made her her.

wading in the pool now, with colt, all she wanted was more.

before she could find something to say, logan and brent swam by, kicking up water with a splash. “come on!” logan called out as a wave of chlorinated water hit her smack dab in the face, “we’re doing back flips.”

she forced her eyes down and swam off after them, hurrying to put some space between them.

drunk as she was, it was a struggle to even stay afloat.

the semester wrapped up quickly; before she knew it, it was time to start shipping her things down to miami. ellie saw and heard from everyone less and less as she finished her coursework and switched into summer mode, even as the date of logan’s wedding grew closer.

finally it was time to hand her keys over to the girl who’d be subletting her apartment for the summer and catch her flight; when she stepped off the plane she forgot, for a moment, that she wasn’t home in los angeles -- it was humid and sunny and everyone around her looked happy, a far cry from the scene she’d left behind at jfk.

ellie went straight to her summer housing and checked in, a little astonished by how nice the apartment was. there was a pool in the back of the building and the beach was only a short walk away; there were floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the view to her and illuminating every last one of the boxes she’d have to unpack where they were cluttering her new living room floor.

her eyes landed on one marked kitchen stuff and ellie tore into it, using her keys to rip the tape. the still-sealed bottle of dom perignon from the bachelorette party was sitting on top of everything else, wrapped in bubble wrap.

the trip or the heat had probably made it go flat but she pulled it out anyway, sitting on the floor and popping the cork. ellie took a sip from the bottle and grimaced -- all expensive alcohol was disgusting.

she set it on the floor and took a photo for her pictagram story anyway, the boxes and the view in the background. it was only up for a few seconds before her phone screen lit up with an incoming message.

it was colt. dork was all he’d written, when she opened her direct messages. the little animation beneath his words indicated he was typing something else. how is it?

pretty bad she wrote back honestly.

guess i’ll have to work harder to impress you

she stared down at her phone, rereading the words twice before she huffed out a genuine laugh. ellie had been avoiding checking in with most of her friends while she focused on moving, but it felt pretty nice to talk to colt again. the new peace that had settled between them had admittedly been a welcome respite, distracting her from every stressor in her life.

with a shake of her head, she gave in and wrote back guess so.

everyone in the wedding was spending the entire weekend in santa monica, and ellie was grateful for the opportunity to avoid awkward conversation with her dad, heading straight to the hotel when she flew in on the morning of the rehearsal dinner.

things were already in full swing even though it was early in the day when she arrived; though she was exhausted from her flight and the work she’d left behind on the east coast ellie still let ingrid pull her up to her suite to start getting ready together.

one by one the rest of their friends started to trickle in, chatting excitedly about the wedding the next day, and eventually, after they’d gone over saturday’s schedule at least a thousand times, it was late enough in the afternoon that she had to go back to her own hotel room to get dressed for dinner.

ellie was the first of the girls to finish getting ready and logan and the rest of the guys were already downstairs at the lobby bar when she came out of the elevator. logan pulled her into a hug as soon as she got close, kissing her cheek hello.

“are you so excited?” she asked, squeezing his arms, “big day tomorrow.”

“i can’t wait. i know we did this fast but it still feels like we’ve been waiting for forever.” he looked adorably eager. “you look nice, by the way.”

“thank you,” ellie said primly, stepping out of his arms to spin in a circle, the skirt of her dress swishing around the tops of her thighs, “not half bad for an all-nighter and a cross-country flight, eh?”

“thanks for flying out so early. i’m so glad you’re here.” logan called the bartender over as she moved down the line to say hi to the rest of the groomsmen, and when she came back around to his other side to accept the drink he held out to her she noticed there was one person missing from the group.

“where’s colt?”

logan arched an eyebrow at her. her face flushed pink, and then worsened when that voice she could pick out of a crowd said from behind her, “miss me?”

the smart remark that was waiting on the tip of her tongue died when she turned around and saw him. he always wore formalwear well, but something about how he was dressed tonight captured her attention in a way that was impossible to ignore. she swallowed.

“just wondering if tonight might actually be peaceful or not,” she said finally, lifting her eyes from the few buttons that were open on his shirt at the front of his throat to look him in the eyes. “i guess it won’t be.”

he shrugged, leaning around her to signal the bartender for a drink of his own. “i promised i’d behave this weekend.”

“yeah, and you’d better follow through or ingrid’s going to come after us both,” logan grinned, waiting until colt had his glass in his hand before sticking his own in between the three of them. “cheers.”

“cheers,” ellie smiled, clinking her champagne flute delicately against the two rocks glasses in their hands, “congratulations. i’m so happy for you guys.”

“you can back out at any time,” colt said, and then, as ingrid finally walked over and hit him on the shoulder, “ow. what? you can back out, too.”

she linked her arm through logan’s, tilting her face up for a kiss. “no one’s backing out. come on.”

they filed into the restaurant, where everyone’s families were already waiting at one end of the long table. ellie sat down on ingrid’s right and came face-to-face with colt, who was sitting directly across from her at logan’s left. he smirked at her from the other side of the table, bumping his foot into hers underneath the tablecloth.

she kicked him back, turning her cheek to stifle a smile when she saw him wince as soon as her high heel collided with his shin.

dinner was surprisingly pleasant, making her cautiously optimistic for the way the rest of the weekend was going to go. tomorrow was sure to be exhausting, with a full day of primping and photos before the ceremony and reception, and the after party following late into the night, if she knew their group of friends at all.

but it’d probably be pretty fun, too. at least she could start drinking heavily as soon as her toast was over.

though she was woefully sober after the cake had been cut and the night started to wind down, certain that a hangover would be a wrench in tomorrow morning she just didn’t need, with the day ahead of her.

they all took their time saying goodbye and slowly started to head to the elevator. just outside the restaurant door, colt caught her elbow and asked, “wanna go for a walk?”

she stared back at him dumbly. why? “huh?”

“come on, the beach is right there.” his hand slid down her bare arm to curl around her wrist, and he tugged her towards the french doors that would lead them outside onto the hotel’s back patio before she could protest.

ellie slipped off her shoes as they moved down the steps and out into the sand, silent when they both walked off down the beach together. the stretch owned by the hotel was private and closed for the night, so they were the only two people making their way down to the ocean, though she still wasn’t exactly sure for what.

“how’ve you been?” she asked finally, when it felt like it’d been quiet for too long.

“fine. how are your... water samples?”

her eyebrows arched. part of her was amazed he’d remembered, and a little warmed by his thoughtfulness. “um, good,” she answered slowly, “well -- not good, they’re contaminated, but... good for me? to have something to study?”

out of the corner of her eye, ellie saw his lips twitch. it was good to know he still found her embarrassment amusing. “that’s good.”

“are you nervous for your speech tomorrow?” she asked, because she was certainly nervous about hers. his smile spread.

“no.” he’d long since let go of her arm, but colt still only shoved the hand on the other side of his body into his pocket, letting his other arm dangle near hers. “i’m just gonna wing it.”

“you’re going to -- i’m sorry, what?” she demanded, completely horrified. “you cannot just wing it.”

“well, i’m going to,” he shrugged, “so don’t lose sleep over it.”

“oh my god,” ellie groaned, “i feel sick just thinking about it. please tell me you’re joking.”

“you know i’m not,” he laughed, that same soft sound from the night of logan and ingrid’s engagement party, when he’d given her a ride home. her cheeks flushed just thinking about it. “don’t you ever get tired of being so self-righteous?”

“no,” she sniffed, “don’t you ever get tired of being so...”

ellie trailed off as she searched for the right word. colt stopped suddenly and turned in the sand to face her, grinning widely when their eyes locked. “so what?”

arrogant. smug. obnoxious. insufferable. reckless. “so...” she paused, tongue darting out to lick her lips, “well --”

colt leaned in and kissed her before she could decide which word she wanted to settle on. the hand that’d been in his pocket landed on her waist, and he lifted the other to her jaw, cradling her cheek in his palm when he pulled her closer to meet his lips.

she froze. part of her had been expecting this, though it still felt so unbelievably beyond imagining -- colt kaneko was kissing her after they’d spent the last eight years at each other’s throats, and tenderly, too, his lips soft and gentle when they brushed against hers.

ellie sighed quietly into his mouth, then looped her arm around him and kissed him back, sliding her fingers into his hair at the back of his head.

he was a good kisser. not that she’d thought about it, or anything, outside of one or two times --

fine, a few times...

colt snaked his arm fully around her waist and pressed his body in against hers as close as they could get; there was only the sound of the waves on the shore while they kissed for what felt like an eternity, with all the familiarity of two people who’d done this dozens of times before.

there was something about being alone with him that eased the tension being home always brought with it. something about the new calmness in their relationship reminded her of her apartment and new york and the places she’d always felt most like herself, almost like colt understood her and the things she wanted to say but wouldn’t without her even having to say them.

finally, his thumb pressed into the hinge of her jaw and he broke them apart, tipping his forehead against hers to stare into her eyes.

in the dark, with the moon behind him, the depths of his gaze consumed her entirely. ellie worked to catch her breath while staring back at him seriously, though there was surely some shock on her expression.

“um,” she said finally. “i --”

he swept her into another kiss and she was grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts before being expected to say something, though every last one she had left her abruptly when their lips met again. all she could focus on was how good the kiss was -- how it felt like giving into something she’d been holding off on allowing for far too long.

this time, when he pushed her away, he spoke up. “do you want me to apologize?”

ellie realized her fingers were still curled into his hair and forced them to relax. she dropped her hand onto his shoulder. “no.” her eyes lingered on the minute upturn at the corners of his mouth. “an explanation would be helpful, though.”

the hand colt had on the small of her back dipped lower. she raised her eyebrows at him again. “i want to spend the night with you,” he said bluntly, “if you want.”

she pretended to think about it, even though she already knew what her answer would be. judging by the look on colt’s face, he knew she was only acting, too, though he stayed quiet for once and let her go through the motions of looking back at the hotel in thoughtful consideration. “yeah,” she said finally, with a nod, “let’s go to your room.”

colt’s room was on the other side of the hotel, and he’d forgotten to pull the heavy-duty shades shut the night before, so the sun filtered in through the gauzy curtains and hit her in the face early, waking her up before she was ready.

ellie rubbed at her eyes and took in the sight before her: the muscled arm slung across her waist was attached to a set of broad shoulders and a sculpted torso, though colt was sleeping on his stomach so she could only see his back, the sheet draped low over his hips.

his face was squished into the pillow and he was still peacefully asleep, his breathing even and quiet beside her.

she stared at him for a few seconds before a deep sense of dread started to set in, filling her with slowly dawning horror.

you slept with colt kaneko! her brain screamed unhelpfully at her, like she didn’t already know. what the fuck were you thinking?

okay. this was fixable. all she had to do was get to her clothes and get out of his room before he woke up. she could make it back to her suite before anyone noticed she was gone, right?

his body stirred beside her as soon as she shifted to the edge of the mattress. ellie watched colt’s arm slip off her waist and stared as his eyes slowly blinked open, his jaw cracking with a yawn. “hey,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and perfectly cozy-sounding, halting her progress out of the bed and almost enough to make her turn right back around. “what time is it?”

“seven,” she returned just as quietly, and he flopped back against the pillow with a groan, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“the fuck are you doing up?” he grumbled. “christ.”

ellie shifted another inch to the edge of the bed. “we need to all start getting ready soon. pictures are at two.”

“it’s seven,” he sighed, “she can’t possibly expect you to --”

“she does.”

colt groaned again, louder this time. he rolled onto his back and pressed both palms against his face, then pushed his hands through his hair. “we’ll get up in ten minutes,” he declared decisively, dropping his cheek into the side of the pillow. his eyes were half-lidded when they landed on her. “come here.”

ellie hesitated at the edge of the bed, biting her lip.

that was probably a mistake.

she cleared her throat, averting her eyes. maybe all of this had been a mistake. it was so unlike her -- flirting with him, kissing him on the beach, having a one night stand. he’d never even liked her before she started doing all of these things that felt so wildly out of character for her. in fact, he’d always hated her.

what the fuck did he think they were doing, anyway?

panic was starting to set in, hot and desperate. “i should really get going,” she said, then stood and snatched her dress up off the floor before she could be sucked in by the curve of him against the mattress. “ingrid’s going to wonder where i am.”

there was complete and total silence as she pulled her clothes back on quickly, piece by piece. finally, colt said, “okay. i’ll see you later.”

his voice was slow -- carefully measured. ellie didn’t look at him before double checking to make sure she had her phone and room key and nodding blindly in the direction of the bed, doing her best to keep her voice faux-chipper. “totally,” she called out mindlessly, rushing out the door.

her chest squeezed tight with anxiety and refused to relent for the entirety of the morning. ellie found herself fighting off a meltdown through hair and makeup, through hours of gushing over ingrid and how beautiful she looked, through a session with the photographer in the bridal suite.

her thoughts were elsewhere during the group photos with everyone. it took every effort not to look colt’s way when they all got together before the ceremony to take so many pictures her face was hurting from maintaining her fake smile.

still, her mind drifted. the part of her that was adamant she’d made the right decision couldn’t seem to quiet the little voice beneath it wondering what if, her curiosity needling her brain incessantly.

now she’d never know what he might’ve been about to say or do. she wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of having two pieces of her life that didn’t fit together -- new york and school and los angeles and colt -- because there was no knowing if anything would’ve even come from it.

maybe that’s for the best, said the larger, more rational part of her brain.

all the excuses she’d used a thousand times before came back to her at once. she was too busy to date, probably, and ill-equipped to have a boyfriend. guys she’d dated in the past had complained about her being hot and cold, either clingy or distant depending on where she was with school or in her professional life. the only parts of herself she could actually tolerate most of the time seemed to be the biggest turn-offs: she was too driven, too focused on her passion projects.

each word felt hollow, now. maybe she hadn’t done the right thing.

ellie’s pulse raced dangerously as everyone lined up at the edge of the cliff for the outdoor ceremony. she and colt stood just behind logan, side-by-side.

he wasn’t looking at her. her stomach twisted unhappily.

she gently reached out to touch his arm. her voice was barely a murmur when she leaned in close and said, “hey, can i talk to you?”

colt looked down at her like she was insane. in front of them, logan started down the aisle. “now’s not really a good time.”

fuck. she was almost definitely going to lose her nerve, but he was right. she pursed her lips, looping her arm through his. her free hand clutched her flowers tightly.

colt felt stiff beside her, at odds with the easy way he’d held her last night. she used all her focus not to trip as they walked down the aisle together and then separated on either side of the altar, the both of them looking anywhere else but at each other.

fortunately, the ceremony provided a welcome distraction from her swirling thoughts. logan and ingrid had written their own vows, and she cried the entire time they spoke to each other, tears silently dripping down her cheeks as she watched two of her oldest friends profess their love.

even the poem ingrid’s sister read made her heart skip a beat, her bottom lip wobbling through the ceremony until the officiant finally pronounced them husband and wife.

ellie was still smiling through tears after they’d kissed and started back down the aisle together. she forgot to be nervous about walking with colt until he took her arm in his and said, “seriously?”

then everything that had happened rushed back to her at once, and she was uneasy and miserable again.

“come on,” ellie sniffed, dabbing delicately at her eyes, “that was beautiful.”

“it was something,” he mumbled, so quietly the excited din of the crowd nearly drowned him out. “i’ll catch up with you later.”

he dropped her arm as soon as he possibly could, disappearing into the venue. ellie watched everyone through the glass windows for a moment before following him inside with a sigh.

bathroom, then bar. even if the first thing she needed was a large glass of wine, the absolute last thing she needed was smudged mascara. everything else could wait.

it was almost the end of the cocktail hour when logan found her at the bar. ellie grinned at him wholeheartedly and passed him the champagne flute she’d taken for herself, signaling for another.

“thanks,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, “like, a thousand people have already tried talking to me. you never told me this was going to be so exhausting.”

“getting married is a huge deal,” ellie laughed, “of course every single person here wants to talk to you. you’re going to be making the rounds all night.”

“just -- keep me occupied for a few more minutes,” he said, gaze darting around the room, “make it look like we’re having a really serious talk. start with whatever put that look on your face.”

“i don’t have a look on my face,” she argued, though she knew it was futile.

logan arched his eyebrows at her. “ellie.”

“what?” she asked. she shuffled her feet anxiously and then continued, “look, i’m sure colt already told you we slept together last night, so --”

logan started coughing, spitting champagne back into his glass. he set it down on the bar with wide eyes. “oh my god, you what?”

ellie felt her own eyes bug out to match. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no,” logan hissed, then coughed again. “what do you mean you slept together last night?”

“um,” ellie started, her voice high as she swiveled her eyes to the ceiling, “well...”

“jesus, i can’t believe he finally went for it.”

she slowly lowered her gaze back to his. her brow furrowed in confusion. “what?”

“oh, man. he’s liked you for forever. i didn’t think he was ever going to...” logan trailed off as he caught sight of the expression on her face, which cycled from confusion to realization to horror so quickly it made her head spin. “wait, how’d you guys leave it?”

“um,” she said again, cringing, “well...”

“yikes.” logan matched her look with a wince. “you should probably talk to him.”

she wandered into the ballroom as if in a daze. ellie found her seat at the table with the bridal party and breathed a sigh of relief once she noticed colt was far away from her at the other end -- at least ingrid had done her one favor.

after the toast, she told herself with a nod, i’ll talk to him.

after the toast she could have the hard drink she’d need to get through the conversation. they could take a few minutes to themselves.

but first she had to actually get through the toast, and that meant sitting politely while colt gave the best man speech, which he did unflappably well, of course, even though he hadn’t prepared for it at all.

ellie was reminded all at once what’d made her hate him in the first place: colt was good at everything without having to worry about it. in college, he’d effortlessly pulled perfect grades in even the most impossible classes; tonight was no different. he made jokes that landed perfectly with the crowd, getting the appropriate amount of laughs, and finished with something surprisingly sentimental that garnered lots of applause -- both ingrid and logan beamed at him when he sat down again.

and she had to go next.

she pointedly ignored him as she stood with her glass. “hey, everyone. i’m ellie. for those of you who don’t know me, ingrid and i met on the very first day of college -- eight years ago. i’d just turned eighteen and i was away from home for the first time. i actually bumped into ingrid in the parking lot...”

ellie hit all the marks, too: what she loved about her friends, what made them perfect for each other. “-- and i knew he was the one just from the way she’d talk about him. she always got so giddy, it was like there was a whole other side of her i’d never seen before. every day she’d have something new to say about him: ‘oh, logan said this,’ and, ‘oh, logan showed me that’ --”

everyone was crying by the time she wrapped up. ingrid blew her a kiss as she lifted her glass into the air, and ellie grinned brightly back at her and logan before the band came back on and she could finally sit down again.

the girls around her were gushing about how good her toast had been, but ellie leaned around them to catch colt’s eye at the other end of the table.

her eyebrows lifted meaningfully. she nodded at the dance floor.

colt rolled his eyes. she watched him shake his head.

ellie thrust her bottom lip out into a pout.

he looked sort of close to smiling, setting a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach. it was both better and more dangerous than the thought of him being angry at her had been. later, he mouthed, turning away before she could frown at him any harder.

that was fine. it’d give her a little more time to work up her nerve -- hopefully.

she grabbed ingrid on her way back to the bar.

“oh my god, i can’t believe you,” ingrid sighed, squeezing her tight in a huge hug, “that was only the most beautiful toast of all time. you ruined my makeup, you bitch!”

“okay, you still look perfect,” ellie argued, squeezing her hand, “you’re the most beautiful bride ever. don’t even start.”

ingrid sighed wistfully, looking off towards the sweetheart table at the front of the ballroom. “i am pretty beautiful, huh?”

“are you kidding?” ellie demanded, “the whole thing was gorgeous.”

ingrid’s grin sharpened. out of nowhere, she said, “logan told me you totally fucked colt last night.”

“shhhh!” ellie cast a glance around desperately, but they were blessedly alone at the bar. “oh my god, i didn’t --”

“yeah, right. why didn’t you tell me?!”

“it’s your wedding day,” she laughed, “i wanted to -- i don’t know. it just happened, it was weird.”

“what’s he like?” she asked, passing ellie a glass of champagne.

“can we not do this?” ellie ducked her head behind the glass, trying to hide her flushed face. “isn’t it time for your first dance?”

ingrid waved her hand dismissively. “in a minute. so? spill!”

“oh my god, it was obviously incredible,” she mumbled into her champagne, “now get out of my face, this is exactly why i didn’t tell you.”

“fine, but we are so not done talking about this.” she reached out and tugged on one of the neat curls of her hair before linking her arm through ellie’s to walk back to the front of the ballroom together. “and you’d better save me a dance.”

she didn’t get her moment alone with colt until after the entrees. ellie had given up on trying to catch his eye, so she was surprised when he walked over and said, “i’ll take that dance, now, if you can stop crying long enough to make it happen.”

“people with souls cry at weddings,” she huffed, standing and taking his hand in hers, “i’m sorry you can’t relate.”

“you’re forgiven,” he smirked, so that she could almost pretend there was absolutely nothing weird going on between them as they walked out onto the dance floor.

but his expression shifted when the song changed and her hands laced together behind his neck, absolving her of that illusion near-immediately. she cleared her throat as his hands settled on her hips and they started to sway together.

“i’m sorry,” she said again, more seriously this time.

he pursed his lips, then shrugged. “for what?”

“for being weird this morning. i don’t know what you were going to say -- um, if you were going to say anything, but i totally freaked out and i obviously didn’t even give you a chance to get to it, so. that was uncool. sorry.”

colt’s gaze was calculating on hers. she wondered what he was thinking. “don’t worry about it,” he said finally. “it’s nothing.”

she drew in a deep breath. well, if he wasn’t going to give her an inch... “logan said you’ve always liked me.”

ellie watched as his eyes narrowed. “logan’s lucky today’s his wedding day,” colt murmured darkly. his hands tightened on her hips briefly, then released. he turned his head and leveled his glare on her. “so?”

“so -- i thought you hated me,” she laughed, that thread of nervousness back again. “you never -- i mean, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

he rolled his eyes at her. “okay, you’re always, like -- smiling and happy and constantly surrounded by people. when we were in school you were in, like, student government and on debate team and running a thousand clubs or doing extra lab hours and everyone always liked you -- so you wanted me to, what, exactly? just walk right up to you and be like, hey, do you want to see a movie?”

ellie gaped at him, her mouth open in shock. “i -- yes! you could have just asked me out.”

“right,” colt snorted, “that would’ve gone over well. you thought i was a total asshole.”

“colt, you were a total asshole,” she reminded him.

he shifted back and forth on his feet. ellie stared in fascination as the tips of his ears went red when he dipped his head to avert his eyes. “i didn’t want you think i had a crush on you or anything.”

it felt a lot like she was having an out-of-body experience. “well... did you have a crush on me?”

colt cleared his throat. “you weren’t like everyone else,” he said, in lieu of an answer, “you’re still not. but i get that you’re busy. this doesn’t have to be, like, a thing.”

“hang on, i’m still processing.” whatever this was, it was officially bizarre.

it seemed impossible to wrap her head around what he’d just admitted: that he’d always liked her, even at her most neurotic, at the most school-obsessed, five-year-plan focused she’d ever been.

so she didn’t have to change.

for once, it didn’t feel like she needed to put up some front that was, frankly, exhausting to maintain.

everything just felt -- nice.

“done yet?” he demanded, “the song’s almost over.”

ellie leaned in and kissed him, uncaring of anyone who might see. his hands were warm over the cutouts in the dress at her sides and she was breathless when they finally broke apart, long after the song had changed.

the look on colt’s face was a mixture of self-satisfied and surprised when he pulled her off the dance floor and out onto the terrace. “i am busy,” ellie said, once they were alone.

colt nodded, looking out at the view of the beach below them. “i know.”

“but -- if you really don’t mind that i have to split my focus with school... and the distance... and the time difference...”

“are you trying to talk me out of it?” he asked, sounding amused.

“...then obviously i’d love to date you or whatever.”

“huh.” colt was smiling as he stared at the ocean. “i guess i probably should have just asked out you five years ago, then.”

“it might’ve been easier,” ellie allowed, shifting to lean her shoulder against his. she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “but that’s not really our style.”

colt turned and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “true,” he hummed, and then, “you smell like you have a whole can of hairspray in your hair.”

“i probably do.” she hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. “are you sure you want to do this?”

“yeah.” ellie looked back up at him and found colt’s eyes still stuck thoughtfully on the view. “i’ve wanted to for a really long time.”

“that’s so crazy to me.”

“why?” he finally turned and looked at her, his gaze no less intense than it had been last night by the ocean. “ingrid’s right. you are a catch. it’s crazy to me that you’ve stayed single all this time.”

“well, i was --” she bit the inside of her cheek to avoid again using the word busy, and then pivoted to a more uncomfortably honest answer, “-- never interested in compromising. before now.”

his lips spread into a smile. she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of it, soft and genuine and open on his face. “figures i’d be the one to break your streak,” colt said, in that same overconfident way she always used to hate.

“oh my god, do not start,” she huffed, using their joined hands to push his side until he stumbled a step away.

colt retaliated by spinning her around and pulling her in close, trapping her against the ledge of the balcony before she could move. “why?” he challenged, “what are you going to do about it?”

she was going to kiss that stupid smirk right off his face, for one.

and he was going to spend the night dancing with her and later hold back her hair when she had too much to drink.

then they’d both spend most of sunday in bed, skipping brunch with the rest of their friends to put the hours before her flight to better use.

colt would drive her to the airport. they would say their goodbyes on the curb.

and she would be too excited to sleep on the trip back to miami.

“just wait,” she threatened, though her voice was sweet; she tilted her chin up to brush their noses together. “you’ll see. i have it all planned out.”

the look in his eyes made her feel like she was doing something dangerous; colt looked both fond and delighted, content and sweet and sure. his free hand lifted to thumb at her cheekbone, like part of him was still surprised to find the both of them out here, wrapped up together like they were.

“i’ll bet,” he returned, his voice low and full of promise. “that work ethic is one of the things i like most about you.”

“you’ll have to give me a list of the rest,” ellie laughed, eager to hear his take on it all from what was arguably the most unique perspective in their friend group.

“eh, you can wait,” colt shrugged, gently pressing her in along the stone ledge behind her back on the balcony, leaning over her with another grin, “there’s a few other things we have to catch up on first.”

fair point, she thought, though she’d be damned if she ever actually agreed with him out loud. she had a lot to fill him in on, too.

he’d probably waited long enough, though, so ellie folded first and gave him that kiss she’d planned, colt’s smirk dissolving as expected when his mouth pressed against hers.

when they finally broke apart and turned to head back inside, they drew up short outside the doors to the balcony. every last one of their friends was standing in front of the glass facade, staring at them, their eyes wide and their mouths open. ingrid and logan in particular looked unreasonably overjoyed.

“christ,” colt sighed, as ellie instantly flushed bright red beside him, “is this what this is going to be like all the time?”

“no take backs,” she said, squeezing his hand. she turned to look up at him just in time to catch his eye roll, and the subsequent glare that made the group watching them from behind the door scatter with raucous laughter.

“fine,” he answered, sounding put-upon, but she hadn’t looked away yet and so she still caught the private smile that tugged his lips up against his will.

perfect, ellie thought to herself, and then, for the first time in as long as she could remember, nothing else -- no self-doubt, no exhaustion, no pretending.

colt was probably going to have to help her get used to how it felt to have everything she wanted.

#rodaw #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #choices rod #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #myfic #long post #i love this trope................. too much #GOD i'm so glad i finished this in time !!#there's nothing n/s/f/w in here by the way #the 18+ rating is for swearing lol #and the implication of sex #but we did a tasteful fade to black ladies #also if you ever mentioned wanting to read this you got tagged lol hope that's okay !!#ride or die

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

Text

Killer Combo Ch 7 - The Final Showdown

I sincerely apologize to everyone who prefers short chapters, as this is another really long one. Pace yourselves as necessary, and thank you so much for persevering to the end with me. I'm so grateful for everyone who has read and liked or reblogged or replied, and I hope though the journey is uh, long, you will find it satisfying. You can search *** for the scene breaks if you need to stop and come back.

Kagami, predictably, was not happy when Marinette returned alone, but Juleka’s vindictive smirk when she heard what her brother was doing was enough to convince Kagami to delay any plans of vengeance she might have been making. “I hope he gives that bitch the earful she deserves,” Juleka muttered darkly, and then snorted. “But knowing Luka, he won’t. He’ll be all gentle and patient and she’ll keep arguing for way longer than he should let her before she realizes she might as well be talking to a brick wall.”

“You don’t think,” Marinette began, and then stopped, reaching up to smooth her hair self-consciously, shifting her weight on her feet and feeling like a fool as several pairs of knowing eyes turned her way.

Juleka arched an eyebrow, but her smile was sympathetic. “I definitely don’t think,” she said warmly, reaching out to squeeze Marinette’s shoulder in a move that reminded her strongly of Luka. “Luka’s very perceptive and empathetic. It makes him too gentle sometimes, but he’s no pushover. She might think she has a chance, but he’s been over her for a long time. Even if he hadn’t... met anybody , she wouldn’t get anywhere with him.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand and pulled her towards the dance floor, reaching out her other hand to snag Rose on her way. “Now enough about my stupid brother, we only have like an hour of party left, let’s go have fun.”

Marinette giggled, grabbing Kagami’s arm and pulling her along.

Kagami had offered to let her stay overnight at the mansion, but Marinette had declined in favor of a ride home. She crept into her room as quietly as she could, sent her parents a text to let them know she was home just in case one of them woke up and worried, and went to wash her makeup off and get ready for bed.

Her phone beeped just as she was drying off her face, and she picked it up to find a text from Luka. Just letting you know I made it home. Sorry for leaving so suddenly.

Marinette sighed, and smiled slightly as she answered him. It’s okay, I understand. Did you get everything worked out in the end? She chewed her lip as she sent the message, but she needed to know, and there really wasn’t any good way to ask the question. She finished up with her moisturizer and climbed the stairs up to her bed, wincing at the ache in her feet.

She sat cross-legged on her bed to read his reply. As much as it can be. She’s not happy, but making her happy isn’t my job anymore. She got the message, finally, and that’s all that matters to me.

Before she’d even finished reading that one, another message came in.

I know it’s really late and I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d really like to hear your voice one more time. Is it okay if I call?

Marinette really wanted to hear his voice too. Before she could second-guess herself too much, she hit the call button.

He picked up immediately. “Hey,” he said softly, voice a little rough and tired-sounding but still enough to make her feel warm and remember the soft touch of his lips against hers.

“Hi,” she said shyly, suddenly breathless.

“Marinette,” he sighed, and she had to smile at the way he said her name, like he was relieved and happy and exhausted all at once. “I just wanted to say I am so, so sorry about how everything went down tonight, and also...thank you. I think I got some closure tonight that I really needed, and it was really thanks to you and your friends, and...and I’m just incredibly grateful. And I totally owe you a rain check on the party date because I was having a great time until—” he sighed again. “All that other stuff. Your friends are pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, picking at the hem of her pants. “They really are. We’ve had our ups and downs, but the ones that have stuck around, they’re really amazing.” She sighed slightly through her nose, brow furrowing in annoyance. “And I’m really sorry you haven’t had the same experience.”

“Well,” Luka said, and the smile in his voice made her smile too, “I got a taste of it tonight. It’s nice to know friendships like that really exist. I mean, I know they do, I’ve had some...still have some, even if they’re far away, but...okay, I’m rambling and I’m keeping you awake and you’re probably just as tired as I am, but I just, um...I wanted to…” He took a deep breath, and went on a little too quickly, “When I kissed you tonight, I wasn’t, I didn’t do anything right and I was kind of overwhelmed and not thinking clearly, but I want you to know I really—”

“Wait,” Marinette said quickly, her heart suddenly pounding. “Wait. I think...Luka, if it’s okay with you, I think I’d rather talk about this in person. Maybe when we’re both a little clearer headed than we are right now?”

“Yeah,” Luka said slowly. “Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense. So...when can I see you in person?”

Marinette winced, turning and pulling down her schedule. “I have so much to do this week,” she nearly moaned, fisting a hand in her hair and tugging hard.

“Hey,” he said, and something in his voice made Marinette cringe. “It’s okay.”

“No, I want to, I promise I’m not blowing you off, I really want to talk about this with you, it’s just—of course everything always has to happen at once and…ugh, timing. ” Marinette chewed her lip, scanning across the week, trying to find some time. Surely she could spare him ten minutes somewhere...but was the conversation they needed to have something that she really could rush? What was she even doing, why didn’t she just let him say what he wanted to say, why was she...she was…

Hesitating. Why was she hesitating? Marinette chewed her lip and blew out a frustrated breath, forgetting that Luka was still on the phone. She jumped when he spoke again.

“Marinette,” Luka said, his tone gentle, and she made a distracted noise of acknowledgement. “Listen. Don’t sweat it. I know you have your presentation this week and the tournament, right? If you’re busy and you need some space, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We can settle this afterwards. I’m not going anywhere. Well. Not until we talk, at least.”

Marinette’s eyes landed on the weekend, colored in red and outlined in black. “The tournament,” she said softly. “The championship. We could...we could talk there? Maybe after?”

Luka was silent for a moment, and Marinette heard him take a deep breath. “Is that the best time?” he said cautiously. “Do we really want to have that on our minds?”

“You know what,” Marinette said, beginning to smile. “I think it’s the perfect time. It’s where we met, afterall.”

“Well,” Luka said, and she could tell he was smiling too. “There is a certain poetry to that.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, her smile growing into a grin. “After I’m done kicking your ass in the finals, then.”

“Oh, brave words from the lady with the forty percent win rate against me,” he laughed, and Marinette made a face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Max,” she accused.

“Max is a fun guy,” Luka chuckled. “Not as much fun as you, but you know, he has his moments.”

Why was she so pleased at that, that he preferred her company over Max, ugh she was pathetic. She covered a giggle anyway, but it turned into a yawn.

“I’ll let you go to sleep,” Luka said, amusement clear in his voice. “Good luck this week, Marinette, and I’ll see you this weekend and...we’ll talk.”

“Yes,” Marinette nodded decisively, though he couldn’t see her. “We will.”

***

Two days later and elbow deep in unfinished clothes that were supposed to be runway ready in less than twenty-four hours, Marinette was actually feeling good about her decision to defer her talk with Luka.

Not everyone agreed, however.

“ Girl ,” Alya screeched from Marinette’s floor, where she was hammering rivets into a jacket. Max winced from where he was sitting at Marinette’s desk, pliers in his hand and a spool of jewelry wire next to him. “Why did you do that?”

Marinette sighed, and bit her lip. “Because—”

“Because what? ” Alya demanded.

“Because I need to be the one to say it,” Marinette sighed, as she rearranged the fabric on her sewing machine. “It’s just...it’s something I need to do, Alya. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Oh I understand,” Alya sighed. “I just think it’s silly. You could be making out right now if you’d just let him say his piece.”

“First of all,” Marinette grumbled. “You don’t know that, you’re making assumptions. He could have been about to say he really values my friendship and he doesn’t want anything to change. Second, I have way too much to do this week. I wouldn’t have time for making out even if I did have a hot new boyfriend to do it with. Third, I just...I told you, I need to do it. I need to know that I can put myself out there and tell a boy I like him and not just...let it happen to me.”

“You must have done that lots of times, Marinette, what about all those guys you made out with that last year of high school?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, glancing at Max with a blush, though he was studiously ignoring the conversation, focused on the task in front of him. “It’s not even close to being the same thing.” She felt a little ashamed, actually, of the way she’d used some of those guys, even though they were usually more than happy to be used and she’d never been dishonest with any of them. “This isn’t about just kissing and proving to myself that someone can like me and be attracted to me. It’s not just as simple as asking a cute guy to a party, I just…” She sighed. “It’s the first time I’ve really felt like this since then, with all the butterflies and the fear and the...the…”

“Passion?” suggested Alya smugly, and Marinette rolled her eyes again.

“Whatever. The point is, I just need to be the one to say it, and I want to do it face to face.”

“Well, maybe you’re right and I don’t really get it,” Alya sighed. “It sounds like he’s pretty into you, so it seems like you’re splitting unnecessary hairs. But I guess you do what you have to do, girl.”

“I will,” Marinette said firmly, “And what I need to do now is get these garments finished for my presentation so I can put that to bed and focus on beating my gorgeous potential boyfriend this weekend before I confess my—”

“Yeeees?” Alya teased.

“Feelings,” Marinette finished with a flush. “Look, can we be done talking about this now?”

“Fine,” Alya rolled her eyes and put the hammer down, stretching her fingers. “I’m going to go grab some water, do you guys want some?”

“Yes, please,” Marinette and Max chorused together, and Alya stood up. Before heading to the trap door, she crossed the room to look over Max’s shoulder at the wire he was twisting to match the sketch Marinette had given him.

“Wow, Max, you’re surprisingly good at that,” Alya commented, and Max gave her a look over his glasses.

“I know my way around wires and a pair of pliers, thank you very much,” Max sniffed. “It’s not that different from wiring a circuit board.”

“Well, the next time you need help with something like that, count me in,” Marinette said, frowning as she tried to untangle the mess her bobbin had mysteriously become. “I owe you guys sooooo much for this.”

“I will give your offer due consideration when the time inevitably comes,” Max replied. “Incidentally, do you happen to have another ticket to the show? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Max, really?” Alya sighed, heading towards the trap door. “You’re going to ask her that now? Have you checked under your piles of nerd crap?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Marinette said, reaching over to grab a decorated box on her desk and rummage through it. “Here you go, Max. Kagami can’t make it so I had one more than I needed anyway.”

“Thank you, Marinette,” Max said, with a grin that would have made her look twice if she hadn’t been so preoccupied.

As it was she barely noticed it, and forgot it entirely until much later, when her presentation was over and the high of achievement and the exhilaration of her first really professional fashion show were finally wearing off and she was about to fall into bed for the night. As she fumbled to plug her phone into the charger, she noticed a text on the screen and paused.

It was from Luka.

You were fantastic up there. Sorry I couldn’t stay long enough to see you after. Congratulations, all the hard work paid off.

Marinette gaped at the phone for a moment. You were there? she texted back, and then berated herself for not checking the time first. He was probably asleep, he must have sent that text hours ago.

Even as she thought it, her phone pinged with a response.

Yeah, I hope that was okay. Tell Max thanks for the ticket. ;)

Marinette gaped again, and then pouted for a moment before hitting the call button.

Luka picked up right away. “Surprise,” he said, laughter in his warm voice.

“Max is a sneak,” Marinette pouted, though she was trying not to smile. “And I’m going to kill him.”

“Max is a sneak,” Luka agreed. “But don’t be mad. I ran into him the other day and asked how you were, and we got to talking, and I let it slip that I really wished I could be there, and he gave me his ticket on the spot. Made me promise not to tell you until after, though. I would’ve stayed to say congrats but I had a gig I had to get to, and...well I didn’t want to make things weird.”

“I’m glad you were there,” Marinette smiled, and then added shyly, “You really think I did well?”

“You did amazing,” he said sincerely, and Marinette felt a thrill that made her wiggle a little in place. “I know a thing or two about stage presence, and you’ve definitely got it. I’m really glad I got to see you present. And...well I can’t claim to know much about fashion, but I really liked what you did.”

A hot flush raced up her face and she slapped a hand over it even though he couldn’t see her.

“Marinette? You okay?”

Marinette made an affirmative noise. “Sorry. I just...that makes me really happy. That you think so. That you liked it. I—” She made a high pitched whine. “I’m not making any sense.”

“It’s late and you’re tired,” Luka chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t want to keep you up any longer, I just wanted to let you know I was there. Juleka said it was creepy to show up without telling you.”

Marinette giggled. “Well, she maybe has a point. I would have gotten tickets for you and Juleka both if you had asked.”

“Sorry,” Luka sighed, and she heard a thump that she thought might be his head hitting a table. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just...I knew it was important to you and…I know you needed space and I didn’t want to confuse anything and—” He cut off with a strangled noise and sighed. “Okay, I’m going to tell you good night now and hang up before I dig myself any deeper.”

Marinette had to bite her lip to stop her giggling, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m really glad you were there, Luka. Really. That...it was important to me, and it’s an important part of me, and I didn’t think about it before but...I’m really glad I got to show you that. Seeing you play on stage, I felt like I really got to see an important side of you that I didn’t know anything about, so...I hope maybe tonight was like that for you.” She bit her tongue, feeling like she wasn’t explaining herself well.

“It was,” Luka said, his voice softening a little in a way that made her shiver. “It really was, and…” He paused, and cleared his throat. “Well. I know you’ve been working hard and I don’t want to keep you up any later. I just wanted to tell you I thought you did great tonight and I’m super impressed, as always. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Sleep,” Marinette repeated, hand still over her face. “Sleep would be good. Maybe for like a week.”

“You’ve really been running hard, huh,” Luka said sympathetically. “Once all this is over, we’ll take some time and just hang out and relax. I’ll play for you.”

“Really?” Marinette perked up.

“Yeah,” Luka chuckled. “Just like that day on the boat.”

“That was nice,” Marinette smiled, finally letting her hand slide down off her face.

“Mm. It really was.”

There was a long pause.

“I should—” she began, just as he said, “You should—” and they both laughed.

“Good night, Marinette,” Luka said at last. “Rest well.”

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette murmured. “See you soon.”

“Soon,” he repeated, and hung up.

A few minutes later her phone beeped with one final text.

Can’t wait to see you this weekend.

Marinette sent back a single pink heart and fell back giggling onto her bed, kicking her feet for a second in a brief burst of energy before she crawled under the covers and fell asleep with a grin on her face.

When Max showed up for practice the next day, she punched him in the arm, and then threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a great friend,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “And I hate you.”

Max just chuckled and patted her back.

***

The morning of the UMSIII Master League Championship, Marinette was a fluttering, nervous wreck. That wasn’t totally unexpected, and her parents put up cheerfully with her clumsiness, absentmindedness, and confusion, giving her gentle encouragement and moving the breakables quietly out of her path. Finally they kissed her goodbye, handed her the bag she’d been about to forget, and promised that they would be in the stands with the rest of her friends.

She leaned her head on the cool metal rail of the subway and tried to breathe. There was a lot on the line today. Marinette was fairly confident she could place, but...she wanted to win. There was a steep drop in the prize value between first and second place and an even sharper drop between second and third. She wanted to do well, yes, but really she wanted to win.

Luka wanted to win too, and that made her stomach twist. She hadn’t seen him in person since the night of the party. Other than their brief conversations, Marinette had been trying not to think too hard about him, to focus on the competition in her practice sessions with Max, but she wasn’t entirely successful. A lot of things had fallen into place for her since she’d seen him on stage. Now she understood how he played to the crowd in his interviews, the way he could project his voice in a crowd, the calm, easy going demeanor he kept up even in the heat of competition. He was used to pressure, he was used to crowds, he was a trained vocalist, and he enjoyed having an audience. Marinette felt like she had a much better picture of him in her mind now, a better understanding of who he was, and everything she knew just made her want to know more.

She was determined to tell him so.

But first she had to get through the tournament. And some small, ugly little part of her was afraid. Would he still want to talk to her if she beat him?

Of course he would. It was ridiculous to think otherwise. It was just a game, after all.

A game with both their dreams on the line.

She almost missed her metro stop.

Marinette swallowed hard as she walked up to the huge stadium and showed her player pass to the guard. She was on her own for the moment; the individual finals would be held in the afternoon and the team competition in the evening, so Max couldn’t come with her. Marinette was the only player in the finals for both the individual and the team championship. Well, and Luka. Technically he was still part of the team, even if he wouldn’t play.

She was escorted to a small lounge area where other players had already begun to congregate. She scanned the room but didn’t see Luka. Marinette wandered back and forth aimlessly, growing more and more restless the longer they were stuck waiting, her thoughts growing scattered and fragmented and her hands starting to shake slightly. She wished she’d brought her sketchbook, or some knitting. Something, anything, to vent her energy on and focus her mind.

A touch on her shoulder made her jump and she whirled around to find Luka behind her, looking surprised and then apologetic, shoulders hunching slightly. “Sorry. I called your name, but…” He shrugged and held out a bottle of water, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Marinette smiled shyly back. “Sorry, I guess I was zoned out.” She took the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Too much energy and nowhere to spend it.” She took a sip, peeking at him around the bottle. He wasn’t wearing his Viperion hoodie, but his old one, with her red stitching at the seams. She focused on the logo on his chest as she lowered the bottle. “New shirt?”

“Yeah,” Luka rolled his eyes. “The league sent it to me. Apparently they don’t want their vintage branding on the livestream tonight, so they asked me to wear the new logo.”

Marinette huffed a quiet laugh. “Naturally.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “The old one was better.”

“Right?” Luka groaned. “I almost wore it anyway, but…” He shrugged. “Wasn’t worth the fight, to be honest.”

Marinette started to ask why he hadn’t worn his Viperion hoodie, but changed her mind, not sure that she wanted to know the answer. Instead she blurted, “You look good,” and promptly wanted to kick herself. He did look good; the new shirt fit him better than the old one, his hair was styled more deliberately than usual and the color in it looked recently touched up, bright and vibrant. He was freshly shaved and, she was pretty sure, wearing a touch of makeup, probably to keep from looking washed out under the lights. Of course he would consider those things. Was that peach lipstick? It was a good color on him.

Oh God she was staring.

“You do too,” Luka smiled, reaching up to brush her pigtail back behind her shoulder. suddenly he winced and jerked his hand back quickly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—sorry if I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, catching the hand he was pulling back. “Really, Luka, I don’t mind. I know it’s how you connect. I know you won’t do anything inappropriate, and I don’t mind the rest, so just don’t worry about it.”

Luka relaxed, and she squeezed his hand before letting go of it. “Thanks,” he said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and stopping just in time. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Marinette, who found herself beginning to fidget again. “Are you okay?”

Marinette smiled, but her face felt like wood. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly, and Marinette noticed absently that he was wearing eyeliner. “You don’t look fine,” he observed, and nudged the hand holding the water bottle. “Drink. It’s going to be crazy once things get going. Better to start hydrating now.”

Marinette drank, more because she didn’t feel like arguing than from actually believing she needed it. “How can you be so calm?” she asked with a gusty sigh after she lowered the bottle.

Luka shrugged and flashed a grin. “Don’t forget I’ve done this before. Helps that I was practically raised on stage, so the lights, the effects, none of that really bothers me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and massaged gently. “I’m honestly a little surprised to see you so tense. I didn’t think anything would rattle you after seeing you up on stage before. You owned it and you didn’t look nervous at all.”

“That was fashion,” Marinette hissed, glancing at the other competitors. “And I was busy. I didn’t have time to freak out. Not like this, with all the...the waiting. ” She tugged at her pigtails and resisted the urge to whine. “I just want to get started already! Just—all this—” she flapped her hands, trying to indicate the pent-up energy inside her. “There’s nowhere for it to go.”

“Ah.” Luka glanced away, and then looked at her again. “I don’t know if it would help, but...want to meditate with me? I always try to meditate for at least a few minutes before I have to go on stage. Or into a competition.”

Marinette blinked at him, for a moment and he shrugged. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I know it’s a little weird, to think about sitting still when you’re so worked up—”

“No, I—that sounds good.” Marinette glanced around. “But where—”

Luka tipped his head to indicate a direction and Marinette followed him to a corner of the lounge where there was an old, battered, but currently empty sofa. He sat down and Marinette sat next to him. She glanced around a little self-consciously but most of the competitors were focused on their own pre-game rituals. The nervous chatterers were congregated together, fidgeting back and forth as they all talked over each other. Several others had headphones and closed eyes, a couple were pacing, and the only other female competitor in the room was staring at the ground, mumbling with her eyes closed and her weight shifting from foot to foot. No one was paying the two of them any mind at all.

“Everybody’s too worried about their own game to care what we do,” Luka murmured, slipping a guitar pick out of his pocket and rotating it in his fingers. “Don’t worry about them, just focus on you.” He held the pick between his thumb and forefinger and breathed in slowly, and then out, closing his eyes.

Marinette watched him for a moment, then placed one hand over the other in her lap, palms up, and did the same. It took some effort to keep from fidgeting, to force the circumstances from her mind and bring her scattered focus to her breathing and the flow of her energy, but Luka’s calm presence and the slow, regular swell of his ribs moving his arm against hers, helped her settle her mind.

As she breathed, the nervous flutters ebbed. She felt more solidly in her skin than she had all day. The tension was still there, but it was more focused now, less chaotic. She felt worlds better...but a little guilty.

“You shouldn’t be helping me so much,” Marinette murmured, her eyes still closed.

Luka’s shoulder vibrated against hers as he chuckled. “Have you looked at the brackets? Clearly the marketing geniuses have been at work because we don’t face each other until the finals. I want you to be there, not flame out from nerves in your first matchup.” After a moment he added quietly, “And you’re my friend. I can’t see you unhappy and not help. You’ve done a lot for me too, you know.”

Marinette unfolded her hands and fumbled blindly beside her. She found his forearm and slid her hand down to slip her fingers through his and squeezed.

“I’m really glad I met you, Luka,” she whispered. “Whatever happens today, I hope we can...” She hesitated, not wanting to say stay friends, because that wasn’t what she wanted. She opened one eye and peeked at him, and saw his eyes open as well as he smiled at her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand lightly.

“I hear you,” he said softly, and the drop in his voice made her insides quiver pleasantly. She was suddenly extremely aware of the rough skin of his hand enveloping hers, the warmth of where their shoulders pressed together. “I’m glad we met too. I want you to be in my life, no matter what happens today.”

Marinette had to press her lips together to contain her smile. “Yeah...me too.”

Luka glanced at the other players and gently extracted his hand. He took Marinette’s wrist and put her hand back on her own knee before curling his fingers back together and closing his eyes. Marinette understood, folding her hands back together and deepening her breathing again. It wouldn’t do for them to be cuddling too obviously in front of everyone else. There would already be talk, she was sure, if Ladybug and Viperion began dating after the tournament was over, no matter who won.

But before she could think of that, she had to win.

And before she could even think about beating Luka, she had other competitors to worry about. He was right. She needed to focus and not let the situation get the better of her.

She stayed there, meditating alongside Luka, until the handlers came to get the players and walk them through their entrances and the procedures between matches. The sight of the jumbotron overhead and the giant stadium full of currently empty but soon-to-be-packed seats made Marinette’s nerves flare up again. Luka’s hand squeezed her shoulder, bringing her focus back to the moment.

“Hey,” he murmured when she looked up at him. “It’s just another match. The livestream’s just a little more up close and personal than we’re used to.” He grinned at her. “They’re all coming to see Ladybug and Viperion face off.”

Marinette grinned back, and then brought her attention back to the handler explaining the procedure and reiterating the rules.The quarter finals and semifinals would be best two out of three, and the finals best three out of five. Matches would be held simultaneously using the pyrapods set up at ground level, and at the back, an elevated stage contained two pyrapods that would be used for the finals.

None of this was news and Marinette was back to shifting from foot-to-foot impatiently, checking the time. Luka seemed as calm and relaxed as ever, but she could see the tightness beginning around his eyes and knew he was ready to get started too.

Finally they were dumped back in the lounge, and Marinette went to the restroom. She’d done the rest of her routine at home, but she wanted her makeup mask fresh and bright. The ritual of putting it on, dusting the red mask across her eyes and drawing in her spots, calmed some of her resurging nerves, and when she straightened up from the mirror, Ladybug looked back at her.

Ladybug was not going to lose because of stage fright.

Marinette reached back into her makeup bag and hesitated as her hand found her tube of black lipstick. She bit her lip and looked at her reflection again. The championship seemed like a bad time to be making changes, but…

Marinette swapped the black lipstick for red and painted her lips with quick, decisive movements, and then snapped the cap back on with a quiet click. She made sure her pigtails were still tight and secure, tapped her lucky earrings three times, and then zipped up her bag and went back to the lounge, already feeling more confident and ready to compete.

Luka caught her eye immediately when she stepped back inside, and she saw him grin at the change, but then the competitors were being herded out of the lounge and into the tunnel they would take into the arena.

In the chaos, she felt Luka’s hand wrap around hers and squeeze, and quickly let go. The competitors milled around in the tunnel aimlessly, well back from the fog machine spewing smoke near the entrance, until two production assistants dressed in black brusquely took charge and lined them up in a supposedly randomly generated but very important order, warning them to not, under any circumstances, shuffle the order or cross the line before their names were called or move from their place in line. Marinette found herself in the middle of the line, with Luka right beside her. “Random, huh,” Luka chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

“They’re really hyping us up,” Marinette agreed.

“Guess we better not let them down.” Luka and Marinette exchanged a look, and then a fistbump. “See you in the finals, Ladybug,” he grinned.

“I’ll be there,” she grinned back. “You better not stand me up, Viperion.”

“Never.”

“Oh my God, get a room,” muttered the guy on Marinette’s other side. “You two are disgusting.”

Marinette flushed, but Luka just chuckled again. “Aww, Pharaoh, you know I love beating you too, it’s just not in the cards today, man.”

Pharaoh scowled over Marinette’s head at him. “Kiss my ass, snake boy.”

“Oh, when Ladybug here’s done kicking it you’re gonna need somebody to,” Luka said, winking at Marinette. “‘Fraid I’ll be busy, though. Tagger can do it for me, he’ll be free.”

“I hate you so much,” Tagger, Luka’s first round opponent, grumbled from down the line. “Fucking cocky bastard.”

Marinette giggled, and Luka nudged her shoulder playfully with his. She looked up into his face and she could see the thrill of competition beginning to get to him, in his pirate grin and the sparkle in his eyes, and the challenge there sparked Marinette’s own competitive spirit.

“He’s not wrong,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I thought the very same thing to myself during our first match.” Luka feigned being struck in the heart.

“Betrayal!” he laughed. “I’m not cocky, I’m right. It’s not boasting if you can back it up.”

“You can back it up all the way to second place.” Marinette poked him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, leaning down over her with a grin.

“Don’t make me break out Max’s win percentages again.”

“The numbers can’t help you now,” Marinette shot back, pulling her hand free. She stepped up close to him and looked up into his face, shoulders back and hands on her hips. “We’re starting with a clean slate today and all that matters is here and now. I hope you enjoyed winning all those matches, Viperion, because it’s only going to make it sweeter when I finally take you down.”

Luka bit his lip, and Marinette quirked her eyebrow a little higher, and then Pharaoh coughed, making them both jump. “We’re still here, you know,” he said sardonically as Marinette and Luka turned away from each other, Luka clearly fighting a grin, pink coloring the high points of his cheeks, and Marinette turning a brilliant red that she could only hope would fade before she was announced.

Mercifully the announcer began calling names, distracting everyone as a murmur of excitement went down the line.

Suddenly there was no one in front of Marinette and her heart began to pound.

“Ladybug!” the announcer roared, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar that startled her. Marinette wasn’t given time to hesitate, though; the production assistant planted a hand in the middle of her back and shoved her forward into the fog. For a moment she was blind and confused, but then she stumbled out of the fog and into the bright lights of the stadium. Marinette quickly pasted on a wide smile and raised her arms to wave with both hands to the crowd, though her knees felt like jelly at the sight of so many people and her own promo picture on the jumbotron, smirking at the camera in full makeup and a challenging posture.

Somehow she made it across the field to her mark next to Pharaoh, and then the announcer was calling Viperion, and she turned her head, clapping automatically as Luka emerged from the fog and waved, looking completely at ease with his usual relaxed smile as he sauntered over to stand next to her. Part of the stadium started up a chant for him and he waved again, ducking his head slightly. Suddenly a competing chant of Ladybug! Ladybug! came up and Luka nudged her with a grin. She raised a slightly shaky hand to wave back, and then Luka made a settle down gesture with his hands. Marinette copied him and the chants died down so the announcer could call the next player.

Marinette curled her fingers together, willing herself not to take Luka’s hand or grab onto his sleeve. Beside her, Luka folded his arms, and she wondered if he was fighting the same urge to touch her. He glanced at her and then quickly away, and her cheeks warmed, and she quickly aimed her suddenly much more sincere smile at the crowd, waving again.

“You’ve got this, Ladybug,” Viperion leaned down to whisper when the announcer dismissed them to their pods. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

“Worry about yourself,” Ladybug grinned and winked. “Like you said, I’ve got this.”

Viperion grinned and shook his head as they separated.

Marinette was still nervous but smiling as she stepped into her pod and picked up her headset. “Viperion’s going to be so disappointed when I beat you,” Pharaoh said as soon as the channel was active. “Poor little Ladybug’s about to get squashed.”

Marinette snorted. “I hope your game is more interesting than your trash talk,” she snickered. “If that’s as creative as you can get this is going to be really boring.” Pharaoh spluttered and Marinette grinned as the countdown began to blink. The controller in her hands felt like a part of her by now, and she bounced on her toes a little, eager for things to finally begin.

It wasn’t easy; crappy trash talk aside, Pharaoh was a highly ranked player and skilled enough to be a challenge. It was a perfect first match for her, actually, because she had to think to beat him and once her mind was focused and fully immersed in the game, she overcame the few mistakes she’d made early on. She was grinning broadly as she stepped out of the pod and raised her arms to acknowledge the cheers that followed when the announcer boomed out her name as the winner. Even as she did, though, she was looking for the leaderboard on the giant screen above them. At first she saw only her own flushed and happy face, but then the leaderboard reappeared, Viperion’s name blinking and then advancing to the next level.

“Yes!” Marinette squealed, jumping up and down in place. She whipped her head towards Luka’s pod and watched him emerge. He looked up immediately just as she had, and punched the air and looked back at her with a broad grin. They both stood and watched as one by one the other players turned red or blinked green and advanced.

Like Kagami’s party, like her presentation and fashion show, everything seemed to go by in a whirl and a blur. Months of preparation and planning and practice and the slow-motion waiting of the morning gave way to a heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping whirl as she faced down match after match, dominating some and barely squeaking by others. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the jumbotron while the crowd screamed and the announcer cried, “And this is what we’ve all been waiting for, this is what we all came here to see! The final matchup in the Master League Championship will be! Ladybug! Versus! Viperioooooooon!”

Marinette raised her arms and waved with both hands again as the crowd cheered then she was being ushered off the field, back into the tunnel and then to the backstage area to wait while the runners up duked it out for third and fourth place and the crew made sure everything was set up for the final.

Marinette stared up at the steps to the stage and felt herself start to shake. She didn’t even notice Luka speaking at her side until he took her arm and turned her to face him.

“Marinette, are you okay?” he asked, the grin quickly dropping from his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m f-fine.”

“You’re pale as a ghost.” Luka’s expression was grave and worried and he pulled her over to a chair and pushed her into it. “Sit. Breathe, Marinette. Are you dizzy?”

“I’m fine,” Marinette said, trying to take his advice and slow her breathing. “I’m okay. I just...I need a second.”

She felt Luka move away, but he was back in moments, kneeling in front of her to press a bottle of water into her hand. “Drink,” he ordered, helping her sit up. “Look at me.” He put his fingers under her chin and gently tipped it up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay? Do you need the medic?”

“No,” Marinette said, taking a deep breath before lifting the water to her trembling lips. “I’m all right, Luka.” She drank and then sighed. “That was just really intense.” She shot a sardonic smile up at him. “It felt really good though.”

Luka grinned as he took her hand between both of his and rubbed it gently. “It’s a rush, no doubt.”

Marinette took another drink and mumbled weakly, “Gonna be even better when I beat you.”

Luka laughed softly and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. Something about that touch was very comforting and she leaned into it. “I’m gonna give you a fight, I hope you know that,” Luka told her. “I’m not going to just hand it to you because you’re—” He paused, and Marinette back to look at him. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, and Marinette wasn’t sure what might have happened if the production assistants hadn’t come looking for them just then. Luka stood up quickly, turning away from her for a moment, and Marinette put a hand over her chest, feeling the frantic flutter of her heart against her palm.

“Head in the game, Ladybug,” Marinette murmured to herself before she shoved up out of her chair, shaking out her limbs and noting that at least her hands weren’t trembling anymore.

It was time. The handlers lined them up shoulder to shoulder, in front of a fog-covered arch similar to the one on the field.

Luka caught her hand and Marinette let him lace their fingers together. His hold was tighter than she expected and she glanced up at him. That competition spark was in his eyes and she could see the tension across his shoulders. He really was pumped up for this.

He let go of her hand before they walked out together through the fog, waving at the cheering. The lights were hotter and brighter on the stage and Marinette’s nerves increased. She turned to shake hands with Luka and met his eyes, feeling like she was standing outside of her body, but simultaneously hyper aware of his touch and the blue of his eyes and the quirk of his smile before his hand slid away and they each turned to get into their pyrapods.

Marinette came back to herself a bit when the pod slid closed behind her, shutting out the lights and the noise. She became aware of how fast she was breathing and made an effort to slow it down before she picked up her headset and put it on.

“Hanging in there, Bug?” Luka asked, and though his voice was teasing she knew he was checking on her.

“You wanted it,” she replied, “I’m gonna bring it.”

“Show me what you got, Ladybug,” he chuckled, and Marinette grinned, pleased that he remembered after all this time. “I can take it.”

The countdown flashed on the screen, and Marinette took one last deep breath. “It’s been a long time since that first match,” Marinette pointed out with a smile. “I’m not the same newbie you played back then.”

“I know,” he said, and she could see his pirate grin in her mind (and she was kind of glad she couldn’t see it projected on the big screen outside; at that magnitude it might actually kill her). “I can’t wait.”

Once they started playing, there was no time to think about anything but the game.

Luka won the first match, and Marinette couldn’t help her sigh, annoyed with herself. She’d been nervous and jumpy in the beginning and it had cost her. She and Luka were so evenly matched at this point that both knew they couldn’t give an inch or make a single mistake. She was going to have to do better.

“It’s just the first match,” she heard Luka say over her headset, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant to comfort her or steady him.

“I never thought it would be easy,” Marinette replied, and then smiled. “So let’s give the people the show they came for.”

“You know it,” he laughed.

The next match was closer but Luka won that one too, and Marinette bit her lip hard, fighting the churning feeling in her stomach. If she lost the next one, that was it; she couldn’t afford to lose any more.

Luka groaned as the third match ended. “Man, how do you do that. I was sure I had you there.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Marinette replied, putting down the controller and shaking out her hands. They trembled slightly from the close call; he really had almost had her, and that would have been the end.

“You really are,” Luka chuckled. “Playing you is never boring, that’s for sure. Okay, just one more match to go.”

“Oh, don’t count your trophies before they’re in the case,” Marinette muttered, narrowing her eyes though a smile tugged at her mouth. “No way I’m letting you take it that easily.”

“We’ll see,” Luka said, and then the countdown started again.

The fourth match turned out to be an easy win for Marinette; Luka misjudged his timing early on and Marinette gave him no time to recover.

Marinette had to take a few more deep breaths as they prepared for the fifth and final match. Her stomach felt like jelly but her hands were steady. One more. She just had to beat him one more time. Either way, all of this would be over soon. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that so she pushed it aside, needing all her focus for the game.

It was close, it was so close. Both of them had just a sliver of health left and Marinette was starting to panic. She’d managed to deflect his first venom strike, but the fight had gone on long enough that the ability had recharged and she hadn’t been able to dodge a second time. He didn’t even have to land another attack; if he held her off long enough, he would win with the recurring damage from the venom strike. She needed to take him out, but he kept interrupting her attacks, taking low level damage from her defensive moves to prevent her from getting a combo attack together. He was gambling that he could hold out until the venom strike wiped out the last of her health bar, and it was a bet he was going to win if Marinette couldn’t get off a decent attack.

She bit her lip and tried to think. His armor has always been his weak point; she just needed to get one killer combo off and he’d be finished. Luka knew it, too. If he failed to interrupt her even once she’d take him out. Every time he attacked her directly, though, he took damage from her shields and counterattack. He could keep gambling on his health to hold out until the venom strike, or if he timed it just right, he could get his stun attack off and freeze her. If he could get the move off, she’d be held just long enough for the venom strike to finish her.

But he couldn’t interrupt her attacks while he was charging the ability. If he tried it, and she was fast enough...she’d have to be so fast. It would have to be bug bombs, they were the fastest, and they should be enough. She’d have to be ready and watching, and...

Will he still want to be with me if I beat him? Or will I just be another girl that ruined his dreams?

The thought was both terrifying and unwelcome but even as it hit her, she saw Viperion draw back and begin to charge a glowing ball between his hands. Marinette had no time to deliberate, no time for hesitation. Her fingers moved and her mech exploded into action. She executed the attack and dropped the controller, grabbing her hair with her hands as she watched.

The stun left Viperion’s hands—and her bug bombs landed. Even as her mech froze in place, Viperion went down in a series of dramatic explosions.

The screen flashed GAME OVER. It flashed up a picture of her mech with the word WINNER over and over.

“Holy sh—,” she heard Luka whisper, but the channel cut off.

She won.

Numbly she reached up and took off her headset as the pod door slid open behind her.

She stepped out shakily, looking up uncomprehendingly at the crowd.

Across from her, Luka’s pod door was sliding open. The second there was room, Luka exploded out, leaping out with one of his deafening whoops as he caught her up in a bearhug that nearly took the breath from her. He swung her around.

“That was amazing,” he shouted, nearly in her ear to be heard over the crowd. “I thought there was no way you could get an attack off fast enough, but you knew—you knew I was going to do it, didn’t you, you were ready, you’re so incredible—”

“Luka,” Marinette gasped, and laughing, Luka set her down on her feet.

Before Marinette could do more than gasp in a breath, he had ducked down and—well she wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but suddenly she shrieked as he ducked his head under her leg and somehow managed to lift her onto his shoulders despite her flailing. He caught her hands and steadied her, and then let go of one hand to pump his fist in the air and cheer for her. Marinette kept a death grip on his other hand but she managed to smile and reach up to wave at the crowd, letting out a breathless laugh once the shock wore off. The crowd was cheering and her face was on the jumbotron, smiling but still looking more stunned than victorious. Luka turned in a slow circle so she could wave at the whole crowd until her arm was sore.

It took her a minute to realize the announcer was trying to get her attention. “Ladybug, you are the Ultimate Mecha Strike III regional champion! Congratulations! How do you feel right now?” A slightly hysterical giggle escaped her at the way he had to hold the microphone up above his head to catch her answer.

“I feel amazing, but my day isn't over yet,” she laughed.

“That’s right, we’ll see you as part of Team Lucky Charm in the team competition later tonight! We’ll be looking forward to that. Viperion, you and Ladybug have had quite the rivalry going on and you were heavily the favorite to win coming into this event. How do you feel about taking second place tonight?”

“I can’t be sore about a loss like that,” Luka laughed. “Of course I wanted to win, but—” He shook her head. “You can’t deny that was brilliant.” He patted Marinette’s leg on his shoulder. “Congratulations, Ladybug. The best player definitely won today.”

“All right, look for more exclusive interview content with Ladybug and Viperion on the blog later tonight,” the announcer said into the microphone, looking up into the crowd. “We’re going to take a short recess to get things ready here and then we’ll be back to bring you the Master League team championship. “Congratulations again, Ladybug and Viperion.”

He gestured them back towards the arch, and Luka carried Marinette back through it, both of them waving at the crowd as they went.

Marinette’s legs felt like jelly as she scrambled down from Luka’s shoulders, and he held her elbows as she swayed slightly, and when she was steady he hugged her tight. “Congratulations.”

“You’re not mad?” she asked softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Luka curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking at him more directly. “I’m not mad,” he promised, and the soft smile he gave her and the gentle look in his eyes made her believe him. “I’ll be disappointed, probably, tomorrow. I’ll have to scale back my plans. But that’s okay. I took a chance and it didn’t work out in my favor. You played your best. No regrets here. I’m so happy for you, too, and impressed, and…” he paused, and took a deep breath. “I’m definitely not mad.” His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and his thumb brushed over her face for a moment.

“Viperion, Ladybug! Press room, let’s go.”

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, but Luka just chuckled and put a hand on her arm. She went with him a little numbly until they were separated for the post-game interviews. Marinette wasn’t sure anything she said was coherent, but she had enough presence of mind to work in a mention of the bakery and her fashion business, so hopefully it wasn’t a total loss.

“I’m sure you did great,” Luka told her as they walked out.

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed, putting a hand against her forehead and flapping her hoodie to get some air under it. “But it’s over now, so no point in worrying about it.”

“Yeah,” Luka smiled, and then nudged her shoulder with his arm. “I guess you better go. You’re not done yet, remember?”

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded, turning to face her. “But...you’re going to stay, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Luka grinned. “I’ll be cheering you on, no fear. And...I’ll be here after. Assuming you still want to talk?”

“I do,” Marinette said quickly, blushing.

“Okay then. You go get ready and find Max, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette whispered, and rose on her toes to quickly kiss his cheek before following a production assistant with a clipboard back to the player lounge.

Max nearly knocked her over in his enthusiasm as soon as she walked in, and she clung to the back of his hoodie, laughing incredulously. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered.

“I believe the evidence is irrefutable,” Max pointed out, and Marinette rolled her eyes, pushing him away.

“You changed your lipstick,” Max observed as she looked up at him, and Marinette’s fingers flew to her mouth.

“Oh, I forgot. I can—I can go change it back, if you’re afraid it’ll jinx us—” She knew how Max would react as soon as she said the words and pouted while he snorted with laughter.

“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think the color of your lipstick will be the deciding factor,” Max snickered, and Marinette shoved him, making him stagger.

“Jerk,” she muttered.

“I bet Luka liked it,” Max observed smugly, and Marinette’s face flamed red.

“We’re not going to win this tournament if I break your arm before it starts,” she threatened, punching Max (lightly, as she knew her skinny friend bruised easily) in the arm.

“I’m sure Luka would comfort y—ow!”

The waiting dragged on again but at least this time she had Max to talk to and strategize with. Once they walked out of the stupid fog tunnel, the whirl began again. It wasn’t any easier, Marinette found, but this time it was Max, confident in his calculations and their abilities, who was her steadying influence. She had more leeway, too, with Max there, they could cover for each other's mistakes. It felt like only moments before they were ushered into the backstage area, waiting to face their final opponents. Marinette felt a bit shaky and weak in the knees again from the rush, but this time she sat herself down and breathed through it while Max paced, muttering strategy and calculations to himself.

Someone cleared their throat beside her and Marinette looked up to find Luka standing there. Now he was wearing his Viperion hoodie, his face made up in a very good approximation of the mask Marinette had put on him when they played together, and he grinned widely at Marinette’s staring eyes. “Surprise.”

Marinette sputtered for a moment, leaping to her feet as Max reversed his pacing and came over. “What are you—how did you even get back here?”

Luka shrugged, still grinning. “I’m on the team roster so I’m cleared to be here. I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he said, addressing them both though his eyes kept coming back to Marinette. “Not that you need it. I um, I hope this is okay.” He gestured vaguely at himself, and Marinette shut her gaping mouth with a snap. “I didn’t feel right wearing it while we were going head to head, but I just...I wanted to be here and support you guys as much as I could.” He held out his hand to Max, though he sent a worried-looking glance at Marinette, who couldn’t seem to move.

“Absolutely,” Max said, stepping forward to meet Luka’s fistbump as if he didn’t notice Marinette was suddenly paralyzed next to him. “You’re a part of this team, and it wouldn’t feel right doing this without you.”

Luka shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t do that much.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open again, this time in outrage, but Max beat her to it. “Don’t conflate the magnitude of the effort with its importance,” he told Luka, reaching out to pat his arm awkwardly. Luka’s eyes flicked to Marinette for a moment and she could see his amusement, though he kept a straight face. “Without your assistance we would never have finished the tournament in such an advantageous position for the finals,” Max continued, drawing his hand back to adjust his dark glasses. “We are indeed grateful and your position as a teammate is by no means honorary. I hope when we emerge victorious, you will join us in the awards ceremony.”

“Oh, I—” Luka looked thrown, but Marinette nodded enthusiastically, catching his arm and squeezing it.

“Max is right. You belong up there with us.” She aimed a reassuring smile at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

The tension left Luka’s shoulders and he started to say something, but he was cut off.

“Team Lucky Charm!” the man with the clipboard shouted without actually looking at them. “Prep for entry. Go up the stage steps but do not cross the yellow line until you’re announced.”

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and her whole body tensed. Once again she put a hand over her wildly beating heart and tried to breathe. One more time. She just had to face the lights and the screaming one more time.

Luka’s hand covered hers on his arm and Marinette realized she was digging her fingers into his sleeve. “Hey,” he said, gently detaching her fingers from his sleeve. “You’ve got this. Just like before, right? Own it.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips lightly. Warmth spread from her fingers down her arm and through her body, pooling in her face and stomach. “Come on, before Max leaves you behind,” Luka said, letting go of her hand and placing his on her lower back, pressing gently until she began to move. He walked with her to the bottom of the stage’s metal stairs behind Max, who was marching forward with determination, confident that the numbers were on their side and determined not to be swayed by something as illogical as stage fright.

Marinette paused at the bottom of the stairs, Luka’s hand still warm on her back, her heart beating wildly in her throat.

“Remember,” Luka soothed from behind her. “All you have to do is get across the stage and it doesn’t matter how. Once you’re in the pod you’ll forget everything else, just like before. Besides,” he grinned. “They’re just people. You’re the champion.”

Marinette turned impulsively and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she muttered, not quite daring to press her face into his chest. Luka’s hands went to her shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for everything today.

“You’ve got this,” he repeated, sliding his hands down to her arms and shifting her gently back until she stepped up onto the first step, and once her eyes were level with his it became a little easier to breathe in the face of his calm confidence. “Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen, right? So just get out there and play.” He grinned. “Good luck, Ladybug.”

Marinette felt an answering smile growing on her face.

“Marinette!” Max called from where he was waiting near the top of the stairs. “Hurry up!”

Marinette looked up at Max as Luka let go of her, but she turned back quickly, grabbed Luka’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips hard to his. He made a startled noise, and when she would have pulled back his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, prolonging the kiss as he swayed after her. Max hissed her name again from the top of the stairs and Luka let her go, breathing hard, something kindling in his blue eyes that made her flush and grin stupidly back at him.

Then Max was grabbing her arm and hauling her, stumbling, back up the stairs with him. “The sooner you two have that talk, the better,” he muttered as they went up the last few steps together, Marinette trying to contain the stupid grin that kept wanting to break out on her face. "May I remind you we have a competition to win? The sooner it’s over, the sooner you two can go make out in a supply closet.”

“Max!” Marinette whisper-shouted in horror, and Max just grinned.

“Win first,” he told her, adjusting his horseshoe pendant. “Kisses later.”

Before she could retort, the announcer roared out, “Team Luckyyyyyy Chaaaarm!” and there was no more time to think about anything besides the bright lights and roaring crowd, and then the blink of the countdown and the hard plastic of the controller against her palms.

***

Luka was waiting when Marinette came flying down the stairs, a laughing Max following in her wake.

This time she leapt into his arms, making him stagger, and her feet never touched the ground as he laughed and spun her around. He bounced her a couple of times before she let her feet drop to the floor and gave him enough room to share a fistbump and back-slapping hug with Max.

Then everything was a whirl again, as all three of them were ushered to the press room for interviews and soundbites, and Marinette wasn’t sure whether she managed to get out anything coherent or not. She and Max both kept a hold on Luka, dragging him into the interviews with them, and they presented as a team. Luka’s experience bailed them out a couple of times when unexpected questions gave them pause, and his hand on her back was steadying when she started to stammer. Marinette paused and took a breath and steadied her voice before answering the next question.

“You guys did great,” Luka murmured when they were finally released, and then there was another flood of bodies on them, and Alya was screaming in her ear and Max’s mother was screaming in his and then Kim wrapped his arms around both Max and Mrs. Kante just as Marinette’s dad did the same to her and Alya, and for a few moments it was a fight to breathe. Marinette saw a flash of Juleka’s purple hair and heard the Captain’s voice boom but everyone was talking at once and Marinette was too overwhelmed to focus on any of it.

Finally, the families were ushered back out to the stands with instructions to be back in their seats in forty-five minutes for the official awards ceremony. As the room began to clear out, leaving the top players milling around with varying expressions of elation and exhaustion. Marinette looked around and found Luka. He was looking right at her, and when their eyes met he tipped his head slightly and indicated the doors. Marinette nodded, heart suddenly in her throat, and Luka flashed her a quick grin before turning away.

“Max,” Marinette whispered watching Luka slip out of the doors, “What are my odds?”

“The human heart is impossible to calculate, Marinette,” Max said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Although that kiss would argue for a positive response.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly. “No matter what happens, I support you one hundred percent.”

Marinette’s brain was already humming, giving her a list of excuses and reasons why it would be better to put this off, starting with the looming awards ceremony and moving on from there, but Max’s hand on her shoulder and Kagami’s words in her mind got her moving forward. No more hesitation.

Marinette wormed her way through the bodies between her and the door and slipped out. She nearly collided with Luka, who was clearly waiting for her. He flashed her a grin and caught her hand, tugging her down the hallway.

“Luka, where are we going?” Marinette hissed as he walked quickly, pulling her along.

“Somewhere we can talk,” he told her, keeping his voice quiet. “Just don’t make too much noise, okay?”

Marinette frowned. “We better not really end up in a supply closet.”

“What?” Luka nearly choked trying to muffle his laughter. “No, I promise, I can do better than that. My mom’s played this arena a couple of times, I know my way around.”

“But—” Marinette began, but then closed her mouth as Luka opened the door to a stairwell and started up it. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here,” she whispered as Luka checked the floor number and peeked through the window of the door.

“Nope,” he grinned, opening the door and motioning her through. “Do you trust me?”

She did, so she went through. “We’re not going to the roof this time, are we?” she asked skeptically, and Luka chuckled.

“Not this time.” She followed him down a dimly lit hallway and did her best not to squeal in incredulous dismay as he jimmied a door lock with a credit card.

“All the security on the entrances, and crap locks up here,” he said, swinging the door open. “Typical.”

“I didn’t realize you were a cat burglar in your spare time,” Marinette muttered as he took her hand and drew her inside what turned out to be some kind of private viewing lounge. She could see through the big windows down into the stadium, and the room was scattered with couches and cocktail tables.

“Nah,” Luka laughed quietly through his nose, slipping his wallet back into his pocket. “I’m a pirate.”

Marinette looked at him, and he winked at her with that grin, and she couldn’t help breaking into giggles. “You are, aren’t you,” she laughed, covering her mouth. Luka snickered with her, and for a moment they could only stand there trying to stifle their laughter. Luka made no move to turn the lights on, probably to keep anyone from noticing that the room was occupied, but there was enough light from the windows that they didn’t need it, and eventually their laughter died down, and they were left just looking at each other.

Luka cleared his throat, pulling two bottles of water from the pockets of his hoodie. He held one out to her and she took it gratefully, suddenly aware she was parched.

“I feel like you’ve been taking care of me all day,” Marinette said, stifling more slightly hysterical giggles, and Luka grinned at her.

“Sorry. Big brother thing I guess. Or...well, maybe not,” he blushed and looked away. “I just know you’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately, and today was…” He blew out a breath and shook his head with a grin. “A lot. It can really take it out of you if you’re not taking care of yourself, so...sorry if I’ve been pushy.”

Marinette smiled at him over the rim of her water bottle as he reached to twist the cap off his own. “I didn’t mi—whoa, are you okay?” she reached out to steady him as he suddenly fumbled it, spilling water over his hands.

“Fine,” he said, a little too quickly, shaking the water off his hand without looking at her. “I’m fine.” He took a drink and then coughed, and Marinette pounded his back, concerned.

“Geeze, slow down,” she said, torn between amusement and exasperation. “Maybe somebody ought to be taking care of you.”

He coughed through an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. God, you always catch me off guard.”

Marinette blushed, though she didn’t understand exactly what he meant. Getting control of himself he added quickly, “Congratulations. You and Max both did amazing. I think I screamed myself hoarse cheering you on.”

Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly with a pleased smile. “You did really great too. I can’t wait to watch the replays, I heard you destroyed Desperada in the second round.”

Luka winced. “Yeah, that was rough, our skills just…” He shook his head. “She’s an amazing player with what she’s got but she’s basically never beaten me because of the way our stats stack up. She’s done so well, I hated for her to go down like that, but…” He shrugged and grinned. “I did what I had to do. Wasn’t going to miss going up against you in the final.”

Marinette grinned back, and then dropped her gaze, a silence falling between them that threatened to become awkward if one of them didn’t find a way to start. Determined that it would be her, Marinette began in a rush. “Um. Well I wanted to—we haven’t really talked, a-about, and we said we would, and I know maybe it might seem like we don’t need to, and, well this might not actually be the best time but if we wait for the perfect moment it’ll never happen, and I know we, uh, before, and then tonight, and so maybe we don’t need to but I just, I hate it when there are all these misunderstandings because people don’t talk and we should talk and—stop laughing!”

“Sorry,” Luka said, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he continued to chuckle. “I can’t help it. I’m happy and you’re really cute.”

“Damn it,” she hissed, reaching up with both hands to pull on her pigtails in frustration, “I’m so bad at this!”

“You’re doing fine,” Luka said, taking the bottle of water from her and setting both hers and his on one of the tables. He stepped closer and put both hands on her shoulders, and rubbed lightly. “I can go first if you’d rather.”

Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands, suddenly mortifyingly close to tears. She was being an idiot. He’d kissed her, and let her kiss him, and acted like he wanted to keep kissing her, and with the texts during the week, and the way he’d been smiling at her all night, and he came to her fashion show, and bringing her up here and the way he was acting now, he really couldn’t be more clear, so why was she still so terrified?

“Marinette,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “Listen, I think you’re—”

“No!” she yelled, throwing out her hands and stepping back from him, breaking his hold on her shoulders. “No, I have to do this, please.”

God, she was going to ruin everything, he must think she was insane. There was no way that she could explain to him the utter train wreck that had been her years-long crush-obsession with Adrien Agreste, all the things she’d said and completely failed to say, all the time she’d spent analyzing their least little interactions, all the times she’d practically stalked him only to lose her courage and lie at the last minute, until finally, finally, the words passed her lips in a jumbled wreck and were met with—

She peeked one eye open and could see that Luka was looking at her with concern. His eyes were blue and not green, his hair dark and not blond, and the expression on his face was concern and empathy and not blank confusion.

It wasn’t the same. She could do this. It wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.

“Are you sure?” Luka said hesitantly. “If it’s this hard for you, then—I mean I thought you’d know by now that I—but you don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for, you know that, right?”

“No, it’s not that, and it’s not you, it’s me, and I need to deal with it. Please, Luka,” Marinette added desperately. She needed to put this ghost to rest and this was the only way she knew how.

“Okay. Okay, Marinette.” He reached up and took her hands, tugging them gently away from her face and then pulling her over to sit on one of the small couches. “I’m listening. Do what you need to do.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, slumping back for a minute. “It’s just, the last time I did something like this it...it didn’t go so well and I know this is different, I do, but it’s...it’s hard. But I want to. I want to do it. I...I kind of need this, Luka.”

“Okay.” Luka slid a little closer, his hands still wrapped around hers. “I hear you. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Right,” Marinette whispered, half to herself. “Okay.” Luka squeezed her hands and she realized they were shaking. She needed to get this over with before she went completely to pieces. Why did he always have that effect on her?

No.

Adrien had that effect on her.

Luka—Marinette forced herself to raise her eyes to Luka’s, and saw only warmth and encouragement there. She straightened and put her shoulders back and took a breath to steady herself, though the shaking didn’t stop.

“I r-really like you, Luka,” she began, wincing slightly at the stutter and feeling her lips begin to tremble too. “You’ve been a wonderful teammate and a good f-friend, but you’re—” She swallowed hard; this was too close, too close to the words she’d used back then, but it was too late, she had to keep going. “You’re so much more than a friend to me,” she went on in a rush. “At least, I—I want you to be. S-so maybe, if you, um, if you want to, maybe we could go out. Sometime. On a date. A real date, not a just-friends date.” She squeezed her eyes shut and looked down quickly, face burning, suddenly feeling totally inept and like a complete fool and what had she been thinking—

“Yeah.”

Marinette looked up. “What?” Luka was grinning broadly, and he looked oddly...proud. Of her?

Maybe he really was as perceptive as Juleka said.

Shit he was talking, she should listen.

“I said yes. Yes, hell yeah, I’d love to go out with you.”

Marinette blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Luka laughed at the look on her face. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Smart, sassy, gorgeous, tough, incredibly brave, why wouldn’t I go out with you? Do you really think I’m that big an idiot?”

She gaped at him like a fish.

“Can it be my turn now?” Luka asked, when she didn’t find anything to say, and she nodded dumbly, not entirely sure her soul was still inhabiting her body.

Luka leaned toward her and gently framed her face in his hands. “Marinette, these last few months have been the best I’ve had in a long time and you’ve been a huge part of that, as an opponent and a friend and...honestly the more time I spend with you the more amazing you are to me. I know there’s probably still a lot we don’t know about each other, but I want to. I want you to know me, and I want to know you. All of you. I want to be an expert in Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette had to giggle at that, slapping her hand over her mouth in horror at the high-pitched girly sound of it. Luka’s grin widened as he shook his head and pulled her hand away from her mouth, threading his fingers through hers and lowering their hands to his lap. “Don’t cover it up, it’s so pretty,” he told her, and his slow grin set off an entirely different panic as he tipped her chin up with his free hand, brushing his thumb lightly across her lips. “I was right about the red,” he said, and when did his face get so close, oh no, but also yes, but wait was this too soon or should she—but she wanted to and if he wanted to then that was good enough, right? ”Can I kiss you now?”

“Okay,” she said shakily, and he leaned in slowly, watching her face.

“You sure?” he said, pausing and sitting back a bit. “You don’t look like you—”

As she stared at Luka frowning with concern because he thought she didn’t want to kiss him, there was almost an audible snap in her head as the past settled back where it belonged and the now became sharp and clear. What the hell was she doing?

Marinette grabbed the front of Luka’s hoodie and dragged him forward. “Get over here,” she ordered, though the breathiness in her voice took a lot of the force out of it. It was enough, though, Luka closed the distance with a desperate little noise and their lips met once, twice, three times in hard, passionate kisses, before finally settling together into something softer but no less heated. The hand under her chin slid up to flatten along the side of her throat, and then slid farther back to curl around the back of her neck, Luka’s thumb brushing her jaw as he tilted her back. He was kissing her like—like—

Like he really did like her as much as she liked him, like he meant all those things he said to her, like he’d been thinking about it for a while now—

And he was really good at it, she acknowledged dizzily as his lips began coaxing hers to open.

But hell if she was going to let him run the show. She nipped his lower lip and he startled slightly. Grinning in the small space that granted her, Marinette wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled the other free from his hand to grab the back of the couch and pull, forcing him back as she straightened and rolled up to her knees so that he was the one with his head tilted back, and only then did she part her lips and slide her tongue into his mouth, hands moving to hold his face at just the right angle. The strangled noise he made and the way he grabbed at her hips was very satisfying. It felt so good to get some payback after all the time she’d spent agonizing over her crush on him. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of the way his hands were scrabbling against her, trying to pull her into his lap.

She broke the kiss, laughing when he tried to follow her to prolong it. “Easy, we still have to go back in public after this,” she teased, and Luka groaned, letting his head fall back against the bench.

“Fuck me,” he muttered breathlessly, and Marinette snorted, leaning against him.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” she scoffed, and Luka’s eyes flew open.

“No, no, God, no, I didn’t mean, I wouldn’t—”

Marinette let him stammer for another few moments out of pure revenge for all those times he had grinned at her while she tripped over her tongue, before she leaned in and kissed him, softly this time. “Shut up and put yourself back together, Viperion, we still have an awards ceremony to get through.”

“ Shit. ” Luka let go of her and covered his face with his hands. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Marinette put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it. She was just so happy. Luka dropped his hands and grinned at her, reaching out to snag her around the waist and pull her close, kissing her even as she continued to laugh, pure joy singing from her soul as she pretended to dodge him. He planted kisses on her jaw and her neck as she squealed and tried half-heartedly to wriggle away before giving up and turning to kiss him again on the mouth, and then again, and then again, slow, deep kisses.

“What?” she asked as Luka chuckled against her mouth.

“Nothing,” he sighed, nudging his nose against hers. “Just feeling lucky I guess. I’m so happy, Marinette.”

Marinette smiled, but they did need to be getting back, so she pushed his hands away for real and slid off the couch.

She bit her lip in amusement when Luka whined, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch and letting his head hang back. “Do we have to?” he groaned. “I really hate ceremonies.”

“Yes,” Marinette grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him up off the couch. “I want to see you up there, right in the number two spot where you belong.”

“Oh, low,” Luka laughed, dragging his feet as she tugged him towards the door. “Wait, wait.” He pulled his hand free and turned back to grab their water. “Never leave evidence behind,” he said, handing her one of the bottles with a wink. “Especially not evidence with lipstick stains.”

Marinette giggled. “Wait, is that why you—”

“No comment,” Luka said, cheeks reddening as he threw the incriminating evidence in the hallway’s recycling bin.

They weren’t very sneaky coming back down the stairs, giggling and snuggling and nearly tripping more than once because they were standing too close together.

When they emerged into the full light of the hallway outside of the lounge, Luka looked at Marinette and smirked. “Hey Ladybug.”

“Hmm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows.

Luka leaned in and kissed her until they were both breathless. “Fix your lipstick,” he whispered against her lips, and laughed as Marinette cursed and jerked back, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her red lipstick had held up to the relatively innocent kisses backstage, but now it was smeared all over his mouth, blended with the peach he’d been wearing, and her face couldn’t possibly look any better. Luka burst out laughing at her expression, and Marinette began to giggle again too.

“Here, I have some wipes,” he managed to say at last, pulling a packet of makeup remover wipes from his back pocket. “Let me help.”

“You should, since it was your fault,” Marinette shot back, taking the packet from him and pulling a wipe free. She pouted as Luka snatched it back from her fingers, but she didn’t really mean it, and she let him take her chin in his hand and tilt her face up.

“I’m not even sorry,” Luka chuckled, eyes on her lips as he gently wiped away the smears. “I’ll buy you a better brand.” He winked, and then his humor settled into a quiet contentment that shone in his face. “That was pretty amazing, Marinette. I hope we can do it again sometime soon. Maybe I could take you out to dinner and—”

“Marinette!” Max called, bursting out of the doors down the hall and looking around for a moment before spotting them. His shoulders slumped in relief. “There you are! You weren’t answering your phone, I was getting concerned. It’s almost time.”

Luka winced, going to work quickly on his own face. “Busted,” he murmured, and Marinette could hear the laughter in his voice.

Marinette snorted. “Like he didn’t already know. He’s been teasing me about you since we met.” She raised her voice and called, “We’re coming.” She took Luka’s hand and tugged him along with her back to the doors where Max was waiting.

Max adjusted his glasses and looked at his phone. “We’re due for the ceremony in two minutes and forty-five seconds.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Marinette smiled. “I’m good to go, I just need to grab my makeup bag and fix my lipstick.”

Luka made a noise that sounded suspiciously like choked laughter, but Marinette didn’t look at him, squeezing his hand tight enough that he winced.

“Oh, you left it on the drink table earlier, I picked it up for you,” Max said, pulling her lipstick tube out of his pocket and coming down the hallway to meet him. “It looks good to me, though, are you sure you want to take the time?”

Luka coughed into his hand, obviously trying not to laugh, but Max didn’t even glance at him.

“It’ll only be a second,” Marinette said, taking the tube from him. She opened it and paused as they reached the doors, using her reflection in the window to apply her lipstick over her naturally reddened lips. She could see Luka over her shoulder finger-combing his hair back into place. She capped the tube and handed it to Luka with a wink. “Hold onto it for me? I have a feeling I might need it again later.”

“Sure,” Luka grinned, and reached around her to pull the door open. “Just find me whenever you’re ready to need a touch up.”

It was Marinette’s turn to choke on a laugh, while Max threw Luka a slightly puzzled glance, but clearly dismissed his odd phrasing in favor of ushering them all back into the ceremony. Marinette grinned. Max might think he’s all worldly, but when he’s focused on something he doesn’t notice anything.

***

They made it through the awards ceremony and almost an hour of the afterparty, accepting congratulations and fistbumps and handshakes and ribbing (mostly good-natured, some not so much, but Marinette had never cared less in her life than she did at that moment). Then someone on the game committee stood up to make a speech and Marinette saw her opportunity. She grabbed the lapel of Luka’s hoodie and tugged lightly. He met her gaze and grinned, following her pull willingly.

She ducked into a shadowed hall, pulling him just beyond the light from the party, and as soon as she leaned back against the wall he was bending over her, though the kiss he laid on her lips was soft and gentle and over much too quickly.

“Sorry,” he murmured, with a lopsided grin. “That was kind of presumptuous I guess.”

Marinette grabbed the lapels of his hoodie and pulled him in for another soft kiss. “Maybe. I don’t mind though.”

“I really like you, Marinette,” Luka said, one hand finding her hip while the other leaned on the wall beside her. “In case I didn’t make that clear before. Not just kissing you, though, for the record, I really like that too, but. You. It’s you.”

Marinette smiled, a happy flutter in her stomach making her wiggle a bit. “You should probably know I’ve had a massive crush on you for weeks,” she admitted shyly, still holding on to his hoodie.

Luka’s grin got wider, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah? Weeks?”

Marinette pouted at him. “Don’t lie, you knew.”

Luka chuckled and looked away. “Maybe. I just...I didn’t know what to do with it for a while. I didn’t want to lead you on if I wasn’t...but then I was, and...” He looked back at her and grinned slowly. “Just weeks, huh?”

Marinette shrugged, looking somewhere over his left shoulder. “Weeks. Months. Something like that.” She twirled her finger in the string of his hoodie, still not quite looking at him. “So I’m maybe not at all opposed to—presumption.”

“That’s, um…” He was clearly trying to keep his smile under control, but it wasn’t working. The grin on his face was rapidly crossing into idiotic. Marinette giggled. “That’s really good to hear,” he continued, “because I’ve been getting really stupid over you really fast since we started working together, so...I’m kinda glad you got a head start. It’s actually really flattering coming from a girl like you.”

Marinette frowned slightly. “A girl like me?

Luka gave her an amused look. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Marinette, but you’re kind of a catch.”

Marinette blinked at him, startled, and Luka buried his face in her shoulder to muffle his laughter. “Oh my God, you really hadn’t noticed. You’re so damn cute.”

“Cute!” Marinette huffed indignantly, but Luka lifted his face from her shoulder and nudged his nose against hers with a low chuckle that made her shiver.

“Adorable,” he told her, with so much affection that she couldn’t be offended. “Also really, seriously hot, which, I don’t even know how you manage to do both of those at once, but—” He cleared his throat. “Can I—”

“Yes,” Marinette giggled, tugging on his hoodie, and he bent, closing his eyes and kissing her with a slow heat that made her weak. She slid her hands up his firm chest and over his shoulders until they met behind his neck, savoring the pleased noise he made. Luka broke from her mouth and laid soft kisses along her jaw.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice so deep it was practically a growl, and Marinette shivered again. Luka cocked his head slightly. “You okay?”

“I, um,” Marinette bit her lip. “I really like your voice,” she admitted in a rush.

“Yeah?” That idiotic grin was growing on his face again and she was rapidly falling in love with it, with the way that he looked at her…

With him. She was falling pretty hard for him. And her only consolation was that he seemed to be tumbling head over heels along with her. The idea of loving someone who loved her back was...heady, to say the least. Not even the most euphoric moments of her ill-fated pining compared to this.

“Marinette?” he prompted, nudging his nose against hers. “I’m serious. I really want to see you again soon.”

She kissed him again, just because he was so close. He chased her when she would have ended it, and she smiled against his lips before letting him coax her into a much longer, deeper kiss.

“Wednesday?” she said, when he finally drew back.

“Hm?” he blinked slightly glazed eyes and Marinette giggled. She straightened up off of the wall and leaned into him instead, fingers sliding up to play with the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Wednesday,” she repeated. “You can pick me up at seven. Bring your guitar, you promised to play for me again.”

“I did,” he agreed, voice dipping low again as his hand slid around to the small of her back. “I can’t wait.”

“Bring your A-game,” she told him. “I expect to be swept off my feet. But come hungry and plan somewhere light for dinner because my parents will freak when I tell them I have a boyfriend. There will definitely be appetizers. There might be cake. Maybe even a souffle. You tell Papa his rematch will have to wait though because I’m not sharing you this time.”

The dopey grin returned. “I’m your boyfriend?”

Marinette blinked, and then blushed hotly, which both made him grin wider and limited her ability to play it off, but she did her best. “You’re on trial. Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, definitely,” he chuckled, and that dopey grin turned into the pirate grin that always made her melt. “The question is, can you?”

“Oh that’s how it is,” Marinette managed, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he murmured, freeing one hand to slip it behind her neck and tilt her face up. “That's how it is. So you let me know when you’re convinced.” His lips descended on hers and his body pressed hers in the wall and by the time he was done kissing her Marinette was pretty thoroughly convinced.

Not that she planned to admit it anytime soon.

She was pretty sure she was going to like this game.

#quickspins #killer combo #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #gamer au #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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