#i could still do sth tonight but. well.

[szczylpierdolony]

theres still a month until sesja starts and im already. so stressed out.

[iam-anordinary-human-orami]

I really want a scene like this in tsc2 where Neil seems to call Jean more often to check up on him and the floozies are perplexed "Why is Josten calling you?" "You guys close or sth?" "You still haven't told us what happened when he whisked you away" "we are worried sick Jean, how can you keep us in the dark?" And then Cat will say sth like "are you not sharing what you're talking to Josten about cause you're embarrassed?" Jeremy being a worried mother hen "is he bothering you?" And Jean keeps shutting everything down telling them not to worry, and then Laila as a joke says "is he flirting with you?"

And Jean responds with "I hope not. I don't think his boyfriend would take it well"

Everyone immediately stops what they are doing. "Im sorry, his WHAT?"

All hell breaks lose. Cat is shaking Laila "Josten is FRUITY?!", Jeremy is like "He has a boyfriend?" Laila being like "in the year that he joined the foxes and almost died in the hands of his serial killer dad, he got a boyfriend??? How???" And then Cat and Laila start asking questions, Jeremy trying to calm them down but also being curious, Jean is like "Well he's not told me explicitly, but it's obvious."

Jeremy having an epiphany "oh my god. Is it Kevin?" Cat in the background "oh please let it be Kevin" Jean says no, "Kevin is too much of a coward", the floozies are looking at each other like "oh we are definitely unpacking THAT at some point". And then they're like okay, well maybe the boyfriend is not on the team. But Jean confirms, it's a fox, i can tell u who it is-' "NO! We need to figure this one out!" "Let our gaydar do the work Jean we got things to prove!" Jean tiredly: "to who?"

So they start guessing, oh Hemmick is undeniably fruity, Jean is like "I don't even know who that is. Oh, backliner? No, not him". "Maybe it's Boyd?!" Cat being like "Escandalo! Cause he's with the captain right? Wilds?" Laila commenting "He'd be out of his mind to pass on that, and this is the educated opinion of a lesbian", Jean is like "how come u guys know all their names?" Jeremy says "they are a small team and it's hard not to keep tabs on them when they are in the news cycle every week or so"

"Guys we're losing track, keep your heads locked in! Who could be Josten's boyfriend, that tonight's pressing question!" "But there's no one else... wait, is he with the other backliner? Short blonde?" "I'm gonna be honest, I don't get queer vibes from him" "Lol can u imagine it's actually the goalkeeper twin" "what the one that went to juvie and looks like hes one step away from biting our heads off on the court? Nahh". Jean looks at an invisible camera like he's in the office.

And then something happens and they forget about it, until like the winter banquet or some shit and Cat is intently looking at Neil trying to decipher who his boyfriend could be, maybe he is in a throuple with Wilds and Boyd? Jean is like "Why are you looking at the foxes' table so intently?" "It's investigative work, don't worry about it" and then Neil comes over and takes Jean away at the open bar to talk about sth, the floozies are pretending to not be looking at them. Neil notices and he's like "I see they taken claim already." Jean responds with "It's not what u think" and they talk, Andrew probably gets bored at some point and goes to Neil, puts a single hand on his lower back and Jean being able to hear commotion in the Trojans table turns to see them acting like "normal", except their poses look rehearsed, there's drinks that have been spilled on the table and Cat is drinking from an empty glass looking at the sky.

[petew21-blog]

Let's run some tests

"Won't let her get away this time" I said to my new reflection

My girlfriend of two years decided to split up right before I was ready to propose to her. All that cause she was working as a veterinary nurse with this guy, Dr. Omar. She said she didn't cheat, but she said she fell in love like never before. I couldn't let her get away. She was the best woman I ever met. I had to do everything to get her back

Maybe it was luck, maybe a trickster god, but I do owe him. I woke up as Omar the next day that Alisha moved out. I was shocked, everyone would be.

He was not a bad looking guy. But in my previous body I was a bit... how do I say this. Well, maybe slighty against some minorities. So even thought it was meant for me as a blessing, I was having a hard time at first, waking up with a different skin tone. So what a guy from Nebraska like me might not have a great mind set

That changed when I discovered I could be grateful for the body I was now in. Slight hairs over the chest, veins popping out everywhere. Damn, chicks are gonna dig this. Especially Alisha. If my balding head and belly fat was the thing that made her not love me, than so be it. I am improved now.

As I proceeded in my examination, revealing a very nice surprise in the boxers. A message from my ex-girlfriend popped on the screen. "Hey, wanna meet later. I am at the beach now, but I am up for dinner or sth."

"Hey, sure. The beach sounds better tho" I sent to her. She rewarded me with a photo in her swimming suit, revealing the beautiful body I already knew

I took a photo of myself in a vest with a sthetoscope. Even if she won't like it I may keep the photo for myslef. The chicks love animals and they love doctor. Man, being an animal doctor must be like a lottery for them

Another message popped up on the screen. It was my old body. He wanted to meet up and talk about what happened. Great. Right on time

I met him at the edge of the town. He was nervously stepping around the car. He then approached me, being scared what might happen to him in my body. I stayed confident. He can't hurt me now. I don't have to do anything. I threatened him, that if he was gonna say anything to anyone, I will find. Not that anyone would believe him. I was almost ready to leave, but then he stopped me

"If you won't fix this, I will reveal everything I did in my body that will ruin your career and drive Alisha away from you"

Fuck. Maybe he does have advantage after all. Or maybe not

"Ok, stay here, I'll go get my phone and we can discuss how to revert this. Ok?" he agreed with me and stayed at his car.

What he didn't expect was that I prepared a dart gun with anesthaethic and shot the dart at him. He screamed in pain, cursed at me, while I just laughed. He stumbled and fell on the ground, still trying to get up

I got over him, enjoying how he was trying to fight the effects.

"Sorry, for that. I might have given you a higher dose. I gotta get used to being a doctor now haha. But before I do anything else to you know this. NO ONE! IS GONNA GET BETWEEN ME AND ALISHA! SHE IS MINE!!!"

The fear in his eyes remained even as his body's heart failed. Atleast he won't bother us anymore. Now, gotta fix everything before my date tonight with Alisha. I am lucky that I already know her and know what to say in advance. I am so excited!

Story submitted in inbox: Would you do a story with an man swapping bodies with the hunky doctor currently dating his ex girlfriend?

[novaursa]

Hi!Could you write sth about Daemon Blackfyre, where the reader is aegon and naerys trueborn daughter ?I don't have sth specific in mind do what u like.I just really want to read sth about him .

The Black Dragon's Claim

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Daemon steals you on your nameday, and the realm is never the same.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Daemon I Blackfyre

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The great hall of the Red Keep thrums with music, laughter, and the clink of goblets as the lords and ladies of the realm gather to celebrate your nameday. You stand at the heart of it all, surrounded by banners of black and red, the Targaryen dragon flying proudly above the throngs of well-wishers. The candles burn bright, casting a soft glow across the room, but despite the festivity, a sense of unease gnaws at you.

For tonight is not just a celebration. There is a war brewing, though the crown does not speak of it openly. Daemon Blackfyre, your half-brother, wages his rebellion across the land, claiming his right to the Iron Throne, the throne you’ve never truly desired but have always been tied to by blood.

You can feel the eyes upon you—the noblewomen with their envious glances, the lords watching your every move. Yet, above all, you feel the weight of the people's gaze. You have always been their beloved princess, the trueborn daughter of King Aegon IV and Queen Naerys. To them, you are a beacon of hope, a symbol of peace amid the chaos that threatens to engulf the realm.

But it is not peace that stirs in the air tonight. No, there is something far more dangerous, far more intoxicating. You can feel it in the shadows that flicker at the edges of the hall, in the way the knights and guards shift uneasily. And then, you feel him—Daemon.

He steps into the hall like a force of nature, the room seeming to hush in his wake. He is clad in black armor, his cloak trimmed with red, and in his hand, the unmistakable hilt of Blackfyre gleams. His presence is magnetic, drawing all eyes to him, but his gaze is fixed on you, and only you.

You know you should flee, or at least feign indifference. But the intensity of his stare roots you to the spot, your heart pounding in your chest. He is not supposed to be here, not at a celebration for the daughter of the Targaryens. And yet, here he stands, tall and defiant, with a look that promises danger and passion all at once.

Before you can react, Daemon strides toward you, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall. The courtiers whisper, fear and curiosity mingling in their voices. A few guards step forward, unsure whether to challenge him or bow. But none dare draw their swords. He stops before you, towering above you, his presence overwhelming.

"Princess," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. "I've come to claim what's mine."

Your breath catches in your throat. The hall seems to disappear, the music and laughter fading away until it's just the two of you, standing in the center of a gathering that feels more like a battlefield. You want to speak, to challenge him, to deny him, but something in his eyes holds you still.

"Daemon," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can't."

But even as the words leave your lips, you know they hold no power over him. Daemon Blackfyre does not ask permission. He takes. And in this moment, it is clear that he intends to take you.

Without warning, he grabs your hand, his grip firm but not painful. Gasps ripple through the hall as he pulls you toward him, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist. Your heart races, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you wonder if you should resist. But Daemon’s presence is a storm, one you cannot hope to weather alone.

He leans close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Tonight, you will be mine. No more games, no more waiting. The realm will know that you belong to me.”

Before you can protest, before the shock can fully set in, Daemon steps back, his arm still around you, and turns toward the stunned crowd. “I take this woman as my bride,” he announces, his voice ringing out over the hall. “She is mine, as is the throne. Let no man dare stand between us.”

The room erupts into chaos. Lords and ladies shout in disbelief, some drawing their swords, others shrinking back in fear. The guards look to each other, uncertain, while the highborn women murmur frantically behind their hands. Your nameday has turned into something far more scandalous, far more dangerous.

Daemon doesn't wait for their approval. He pulls you closer, his dark eyes filled with triumph and something far more dangerous—desire. “Come,” he says softly, his voice meant for you alone. “We leave now, before they can stop us.”

You barely have time to catch your breath as he leads you swiftly through the hall, past the shocked faces, past the guards too stunned to act. The doors of the Red Keep slam open, and the cool night air hits your face. Outside, Daemon’s men are waiting—his loyalists, his army. They cheer as they see him with you in his grasp, their princess, their prize.

The black dragon banner flies high above them, a symbol of the rebellion now more powerful than ever. For Daemon has not just claimed a bride tonight—he has claimed you, the beloved daughter of the Targaryens. And with that, he has thrown the realm into greater turmoil. The people will rise, some in support of their cherished princess, others in fury that she has been taken by the usurper.

The world shifts around you, the night filled with the clamor of horses and the shouts of men. You are no longer the princess they knew. You are Daemon Blackfyre’s bride, and with that comes a weight you never asked to carry.

But as Daemon lifts you onto his horse and rides into the night, you feel a strange thrill deep in your chest. The rebellion has taken on a new life, and so have you. Whatever may come, you will face it at Daemon’s side, bound to him by fire, blood, and something far more powerful.

The realm will never be the same. And neither will you.

[ladymarycrawley]

Goalscorer of my heart - John Stones

do you really think I could end this day without writing sth to celbrate the man of my dreams' goal?

Warning: fluff with a hint of smut (not proofread sorry, time's running and I have to up for work in like 6 hours)

Tag list: @masonxomount, @prideofpd, @johnstonesfc, @stonesyyyy + @footiehoemcfc & @cityzenchick who kindly asked for it 🫶🏻

(gif credits to @doinggreat )

“Hello? Is the man of the match talking?”

“Well I’m not the man of the match” You could feel John’s embarrassment at your subtle compliment by the little giggle in his voice, surely followed by his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Well you should have been…you played amazingly”

“Thanks but you’re a little biased”

“You’re the goalscorer of my heart” You cooed in his ear, hoping he would have heard that despite all his teammates cheering and screaming in the background.

The image of John blushing and making a little smile appeared before your eyes as if he was standing there in the room with you. You knew him like the back of your hand and could picture his every little move even at a distance.

“Thanks, I’m really happy with that goal”

“As you should, you know what that celebration reminded me of?”

“No idea, guess you should tell me about it later at dinner”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah only if you’re willing to have dinner with your favourite goalscorer who played amazingly”

“Of course I am…” Now it was up to your boyfriend to picture your rosy cheeks getting closer to a darker tone of pink as he was playfully flirting with you, sighing happily when his mind went to that twinkle in your eyes that only appeared when you were with him. You somehow became each other’s mirror as you both ended biting on your lower lips simultaneously.

“Can’t wait to be your date tonight”

“Gotta go now” He had to scream as the boys were chanting his name, celebrating the hero he was “I’ll call you when I’m almost home, get ready okay?”

“I’m always ready for you”

John rolled his eyes, trying to push Ruben away from him so he could end the phone call with you properly. “Don’t be naughty nor a liar”

“I’m not! Go celebrate with the boys, I’ll see you later” You blew him a kiss and hung up.

You didn’t expect for him to take you out after a draining game like that, in fact you wouldn’t have minded a cozy night in but maybe he was in the mood for something bigger and how could you no to John Stones?

It was impossible to say no to him but you would have lied if you said you didn’t hate him a little when he didn’t tell you where he would have taken you: to that fancy little bistrot you loved? Or to the new one they opened last week he said he wanted to try? What should you have worn?

While those questions began to fill your brain, you let your body fall on the soft carpet at the centre of your walk-in closet and browse with a desperate look through your clothes.

Better a simple but cute dress or something more casual like a cool pair of jeans with a wool sweater? What if you would have been overdressed? Or, worse, underdressed??

You were too caught in your thoughts to realise your beloved boyfriend had already arrived home and you were still there in your home clothes!

“I can’t believe it” John mumbled when his eyes saw you still standing there in your sweatpants “That’s what I meant when I said not to be a liar”

“I’m not a liar I -”

“I’m always ready for you” He mimicked the sentence you said him over the phone earlier on and you tried to hold back a laugh.

“I don’t talk like that and that’s not my fault you weren’t clear enough” You fumbled while discarding your clothes on your way to the shower.

 “I said I’d have taken you out for dinner, not that we would’ve gone to fucking Buckingham palace”

“Oh my god you’re not only a good footballer but also a funny one!”

“See? You got lucky!”

“Yeah…the luckiest…”

“Hurry up I don’t think they would be happy with having us for breakfast” You stuck your tongue out at him and threw your bra in his face.

“What am I supposed to wear??”

“Your birthday suit”

“I’m serious, John”

“I’m serious too”

“Come on! Where are we going?”

“Have you ever heard of surprises? Well, consider this as one”

“You’re not helping me”

“Whatever you choose it’ll be perfect”

“A dress with a large train??”

“That’d be perfect for Buckingham palace”

You got out of the shower and glared at him.

“What are you wearing?”

“My training kit”

“JOHN”

He giggled and cupped your face to kiss your adorable pout, the one you got when you got angry was irresistible to him, especially when he caused it.

You moved your face to avoid his kiss and your pout reflected onto his face.

“Baby please, tell me where are we going”

“It’s a surprise, whatever you choose will be okay but now let’s hurry: we should be there in half an hour” He said in a low voice as you let him kiss your wet forehead.

You sighed and tried to opt for something classy but not too over the top so you wore a black velvet mini skirt matched with a black and white striped cardigan. Black sheer tights with suede boots and a faux fur coat would have completed the look.

“Okay I’m ready” You said walking down the stairs where he was waiting for you in his gunmetal grey wool coat that you loved on him.

“You look stunning”

“You look quite good as well”

“May I kiss you or would you shout at me for messing up your makeup?”

“Kiss me, I have the lipstick in my purse to fix it”

After a sweet kiss that you had to stop before it would get too messy and too long, John drove you to the mysterious restaurant that, much to your surprise, was a new one but not the one that opened a few days ago.

“How did you know about this place?”

“Being a famous footballer has its own perks”

A smiling head waiter welcomed you and showed you inside that enchanting venue.

“This place is beautiful, I’m glad I didn’t come in my birthday suit”

“Well I wouldn’t have complained about it”

“Maybe the staff would”

“In that case no staff would have been present”

“So I should have eaten meals cooked by you? Please have mercy on me”

“You’ll have to ask for mercy later on, not now…”

You blushed and cleared your throat as a waitress got closer to take your order.

While waiting for your dishes to be served, you talked about the highlight of John’s day: his goal against Liverpool.

“It was a hell of a game and when you scored…god, it  was perfect”

“Thank you babe”

“It really was! And when you celebrated with the fans…” Your eyes got teary with emotion: it was only a few weeks ago when he said he wanted to show everyone he deserved to be at City, he worked so hard and that goal was something similar to crowning achievement.

He smiled, grateful to have someone like you in his life, always ready to support him no matter what, and held your hands across the table.

“You said that reminded you of something, what was that?”

You giggled and dried your tears with your hands before revealing to him what his goal made you think of.

“Do you remember that iconic Messi’s celebration against PSG in 2017? Like that amazing comeback in Champions League?”

“Yeah, that was huge”

“Yeah it reminded me of that”

“Well” He chuckled in an obvious state of embarrassment, clearly humbled by your reference as well as by your loving words “I’m not that iconic but thank you”

“You’re at a loss for words, huh?”

“Yeah, gotta admit I didn’t expect it…and you drive me crazy when you come up with those football references” He kissed your hand that he brought closer to his cheek and made you blush madly, as if your whole face caught on fire.

After you ate the delicious dishes you ordered, including a dark chocolate soufflé you threatened John to share with you because you couldn’t care less about his food regime that night, you suggested you should go home to rest after such a long and eventful day.

“There’s something I wanna ask you”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I think I’ll wait and do it in the car, we wouldn’t be comfortable in a public space…”

You raised your eyebrows and followed him outside the restaurant, after he paid the bill and thanked everyone for their perfect service.

“John babe what’s wrong?”

Your mind started racing as you couldn’t help but think about something tragic like him confessing to you a treason or something along that line. You started feeling dizzy and prayed to make it to the car so you could sit down and take some deep breaths.

He sighed and looked rather nervous too.

“Erm this day has been crazy to say the least and I’d like to end it the best way possible. I want to give you something more meaningful to remember, apart from my goal and the match itself…” He cleared his throat and a blue velvet box appeared in his hands. His shaky hands opened it revealing the brightest piece of jewellery you had ever seen.

“Y/N would you marry me?”

Hot tears of joy started rolling down your face and you didn’t know what to say, you only kept nodding as he had to gently take your hands away from your face to put that fine piece of jewellery that was your engagement ring on your finger.

“I take it as yes”

“Of course you silly man” You giggled before pulling him in for a passionate and messy kiss. You did expect a good night but a wedding proposal was totally inimaginable to you. The man of your dreams asking you to marry him? Mental, that couldn’t be real…

“Can we go home so I can finally see you wearing the best look from tonight?”

“That lacy underwear set you saw in the drawer the other day?”

“Was thinking more of your birthday suit but we can start with that”

[heliads]

If requests are still open :) Something for dead poets society, just sth with the gang having a good time, maybe trying to stage a play in the woods? Tbh just a everyone lives and is happy AU with fluff and winter and hot tea! (while I love this book I havent read it in a very long time...)

ok consider an everyone lives au but they are not 100% happy. (i am incapable of not writing angst my apologies) also this is movie dead poets society not book because i have not yet read the books whoops. hope you enjoy xoxo

'and it's not tonight' - dead poets society

masterlist

Todd Anderson is looking out the window at a gray, blustery morning, when they ask him if he’s going to be alright. It wasn’t quite certain before then. It’s not quite certain now, either, even after he answers.

“Of course,” he says somewhat unconvincingly, “Why do you ask?”

Behind him, Charlie Dalton raises a dubious brow. For once in his life, he’s holding himself back, but the situation requires discretion, and who is he to mess up at a time like this? He’s already been warned about treating Todd like a glass doll rather than a paper mache target, but even Charlie can tell that now is the time to pull a few punches. The hollows under his friend’s eyes are far darker than they were a couple of months ago. He wears unease like a well-traveled coat, thin at the elbows and rubbed raw at the seams.

“Look at yourself,” Charlie answers at last, “You’re exhaustion walking. And don’t tell me otherwise, I’ve got eyes.”

“I should hope so,” Todd remarks, and permits himself a small curl of his lips up into a half-smile. Half-smiles are good, though. Almost there to the real thing. So he’ll tell himself, at least.

Even a half-smile can let Charlie know that he’s alright. The other boy breaks into a well-intentioned snorting laugh. “Hey, ask any girl in town and they’ll tell you I’ve got beautiful ones. ‘Sides, Anderson, you know everything’s alright. The stuff with Neil was cleared over, right? He came back.”

“He came back,” Todd repeats somewhat weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, he came back,” Charlie confirms, walking over to clap his friend on the shoulder, shaking him a little bit just to mess with him but mainly to get his affections across. “He’s a little more tired than he used to be, and we’re all plenty scared from what could have happened, but overall we’re glad to see him again. His parents realized they messed up in the nick of time, and even if they wanted him under watch for a little bit, he’s back and we’re back and everything’s alright. Capiche?” He asks dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows for a bit of flair.

“Since when are you Italian?” Todd asks doubtfully.

“Since the situation requires it,” Charlie answers him, and slings an arm around the boy’s bony frame. “Come on now. The snow’s cleared up, and even if all that does is remind us how little grass grows on our campus, it means we can go into the woods again. I’ve been talking to the boys and we all agree that it’s time to dust off our finesse with literature. What do you say, Todd? You up for another rousing poetic exchange tonight?”

Todd jerks his head up and down in a hasty agreement. “Yeah. Neill’ be there?”

“Yeah, and me, and Knoxie, and everyone else you forgot to mention,” Charlie says in a tone of mock outrage. “God, you live with the guy, don’t you? Can’t you spare some excitement for the rest of us, too?”

Todd rolls his eyes, and finds the grace to elbow Charlie in the ribs. “Spare me the self-indulgence, Dalton. I’m glad to see all of you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Charlie affirms. “It’s been a while since we were all together, yeah?”

Todd blows out a low breath as they walk back towards the halls. It has been a long time, or it felt that way, at least. After the– after the incident after the play, in which Neil was found in his father’s study with a gun in his hands about to blow the trigger, it was decided that all of the pupils of Welton Academy would go home for a short period of time to clear their heads and come back ready to face the end of term. 

Mainly, Todd thinks it was so rumors couldn’t spread about just what happened with Neil Perry to take him out of school, and he’s glad for it. Neil doesn’t deserve to have everyone whispering about what happened to make him decide that the best thing for his life was to end it. Neil deserves the world, and none of them could give it to him.

That was the worst part of it all, Todd decides. The guilt, how it wrapped around him in wires as strong as the heaviest chains of iron. He couldn’t escape it. If he was really Neil’s friend, he would have known. If he was really Neil’s friend, Todd could have stopped him. If he was really Neil’s friend, Todd wouldn’t have found out about the attempt the next morning, quietly awoken from drowsy sleep by a Charlie Dalton with eyes like a stricken soldier as he lurchingly informed Todd that Neill Perry had tried to kill himself the night before. And none of them had known. And when his father had taken the gun away, Neil fought and screamed for it, worse than he did when he tried to convince his parents that he wanted to act, louder than he protested that he would be sent away to military school.

And then they were alone. At home. The worst place for boys to be. Should you grieve the friend who is not dead? Do you call each other on the phone, and ask if you have been playing any sporting games with other boys your age, or if you have given any thought to the fact that your friend might not have wanted to die if you had praised him more in class, or clapped louder when he performed, or said something– anything– to this beautiful, brittle boy?

They don’t say any of that. They think it quite loudly, but unspoken thoughts do not travel well over the telephone. The flittering ghosts of would-be words tend to get lodged in the coils of wire from receiver to housing, across the street and over the miles of terrain until they reach the abode of the boy on the end, who also has a lot to say but won’t. And then they both stay silent. And they both know exactly what the other wanted to say anyway. That is how friendship works.

They came back, though. Welton sent out a series of letters to usher back the pupils, even had its secretaries working overtime to call the people who never seem to answer their mail. There was another rush of cars and luggage to the dorms, and then they were settled in again. Todd had wondered if he might be assigned another roommate– anyone other than Cameron, God, but preferably Neil still– and then the door had opened quietly and Neil was there again, trying for a brave smile, and saying, “Todd?” in a voice that had once rung pure and true through a theater that loved him.

Todd loves him for it. He’d embraced Neill with open arms, felt the air punch out of his lungs in one strike, but it came back. He came back. They were alright again, sort of. They might be alright in time, but time is what they have.

Now they’ve all been waiting for the snow to melt, and treading on thin ice around topics they don’t dare broach. Neil has been a good sport, never making them feel awkward for wanting to treat him like a china doll. He was good before, too, though, and– It gets hard to tell sometimes, that’s all. Hard to tell when he genuinely is unbothered and when he’s superbly good at pretending otherwise. They stick to safer subjects anyway.

At last, though, the ground is firm, the weather not terrible, and Charlie’s gone and rallied the troops for a night out there. At first, Todd’s first instinct is to panic. They aren’t supposed to be having any more meetings of the Dead Poets Society, not since Keating was the scapegoat for all the trouble and everyone cracked down on what makes a good boy want to escape, but over time he realizes that it’ll be alright. Some things are worth the risk. Making Neil smile again is one of them.

They meet at midnight. Todd sits awake with bated breath, even though the act by itself isn’t even all that unusual. They’re teenage boys. Staying up until the moon hangs high and lofty in the sky is expected, not uncommon. Still, a delicious shiver of inherent wrongdoing whispers down his spine when Neil walks slowly into the center of their shared dorm room and says quietly, reverently, “It’s time.”

As if the others had been waiting upon that very proclamation, the remaining boys peer out into the hall immediately after Neil and Todd silently close their door behind them. Their eyes meet with shared secrecy, shared triumph, and they make their way down the wooden stairs and out into the bristling chill of night. The stars are out tonight. We are all out tonight.

They all start heading out into the woods. Charlie takes off like a flash at the end of a matchstick, hurtling at a runner’s sprint across the hills, and the others follow him at varying speeds. Todd begins walking at a normal clip until it occurs to him that he doesn’t see enough heads bobbing around him and he turns to see Neil hesitating by the door.

They lock eyes, and Todd sees a whole host of things swimming in brown irises, fear and apprehension and a sick sort of guilt that makes Todd’s stomach squirm in sympathy. He gives Neil one last moment over the threshold, then jerks his head towards the others, putting a little faux arrogance into the gesture in the hopes that an actor might appreciate an act in someone else and remember what it is like to trust oneself again.

Neil accepts the move and grins, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. “I’ll race you to the caves,” he calls, and begins to run, his footsteps sure and strong.

Todd stares after him, an astronomer watching his first comet, then takes off after him. The grass is dry and quick under his feet, spread out under each footstep like the wake of a speedboat. The wind, already coarse, pulls at Todd’s skin, his hair, his clothes, but not even the strongest gusts could keep him down. Somehow, he’s already to the edge of the forest, and he lets out a loud, delighted whoop. A barbaric yawp, if you will. Somewhere in the back of Todd’s mind, a dark-haired man in a comfortable brown sweater smiles indulgently, and chalks up another small victory to the wonders of poetry.

The second his war cry leaves Todd’s throat, the other boys swarm him like moths to a flame. Someone claps a hand over his mouth, and around him, laughs echo into the crunching of leaves underfoot. 

“Don’t be so loud, you’ll get the professors on us in no time,” someone admonishes, but then a different boy cuts in, “Don’t be stupid, we’re far enough out that we can all be shouting,” and Todd’s punishment is lifted and he can yell once more. His defender– Neil, it must be, no one else can make their voice ring with glory like that in just a few words– joins in in the triumphant calls, and then they’re all shrieking up to the stars above, here we are, not boys and not men, bold enough to scream and young enough to never listen.

Todd thinks, as they run through the forest, that it’s been a while since he let himself go free. He hasn’t listened to his mind in a long time, hasn’t let the words roll around in his brain, loose marbles of similes and paraphrased poems. His musings are dusty, dark things most of the time, but sometimes the light catches them just right and they glow like sapphires. He could write a thousand stanzas if he wanted to, right now, and everyone would listen.

The Dead Poets Society reaches the caves and a hush falls among the crowd. Slowly, they edge inside, eyes wide. The rock faces and crumbling caverns should be different, Todd thinks, something should mark the passage of time and all the awful things that have twisted their fates since the last time they sat together and thought of prose, but the stones still look as they did the last time they were here. The moss grows in familiar patterns, albeit a little thicker in certain patches now that it hasn’t been scuffed by boots in a month or so, but one of Charlie’s magazines that he forgot to take back with him turns up under some spiderwebs, and Todd’s favorite place to sit is still just as inviting. Maybe, then, the only thing that changed was them. Maybe that’s all that needs to happen.

“So?” Meeks asks, settling into a seat, “What are we doing tonight?”

“Poetry, duh,” Charlie answers him, rolling his eyes fondly. “We’re the Dead Poets Society. What else would we do, peruse our textbooks?”

This earns him a vengeful swat on the shoulder from Meeks, but even Charlie can admit that the question was fair. They’ve read plenty of poems, they’ve written a few, they’ve even gone off and run some improv limerick challenges, although Todd notes that they haven’t brought nearly enough alcohol for that tonight.

After a few moments’ thought, someone suggests a play. It might be Todd. Instantly, the idea is accepted, and roles are divided out. They’ll be doing Hamlet, since there are plenty of long sticks outside and everyone is quite fond of the idea of pretending to run each other through. Pitts is already practicing his death rattles, except he’s not very good at it, and it sounds more like he’s hacking up a lung or two.

Neil, though, is glowing at the idea, and even though they haven’t got any scripts so everyone is mostly just planning on paraphrasing the hell out of one of William Shakespeare’s finer works, Todd gets the idea that Neil has a few memorized soliloquies rattling around in his head already.

Good, then. They’ll enjoy tonight, and the next night they’re out here, and the one after that, too. It has been a very long winter, but Todd has caught his first glimpse of new spring, and he gets the feeling that warmer, sunnier days aren’t the impossibility they seemed a few weeks ago. The days are healing, and they will too. And so the Dead Poets come back to life.

requested by @reinekes-fox, i hope you enjoy!

dead poets society tag list: @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[sayakxmi]

(From Discord, about Hakuryuu & Alibaba)

Hakuryuu must feel like a clown for saying all that shit about Alibaba, and then having Alibaba basically save his country that Hakuryuu fucked up, the same country that fucked up Alibaba's country and his life kinda, too.

And how is he supposed to talk abt this? Bc he probably should.

Is he supposed to say thanks or sth?

Maybe he'll just cook him something… Yeah, that sounds like a good idea…

He'll cook for everybody, but coincidentally it's gonna be Alibaba's fav dish… yeah, that sounds like a plan…

Aladdin & Morgiana at some point look at Hakuryuu & go, ok, we're getting him drunk

"I missed you you know ;_; like, you were my first friend efur, and, well, maybe Judar kind of but we weren't ever close like until recently, cuz he was kinda a dick"

"Yeah, that much didn't change"

"YEAH and you were actually, you know, like,, ugh... NICE you were a nice person Alibaba-dono, but like super weird what was with that swearing off hate, 'ts fuckin stupid, but youre kind of stupid so that makes sense"

"...?"

"But it was the GOOD stupid you know? The comfortable nice and stupid, but also you were pissing me off so much with that goody-two-shoes attitude, you were so fucking annoying, how ppl like that exist, who allowed that"

"...I... I'm not sure what you're trying to say at this point, so, uh, thanks... probably.... But maybe give me that"

(takes away Hakuryuu's wine, considers drinking it, then looks back at Hakuryuu, and, yeah, maaaaybe not tonight.)

"UGH, but I wanted u to join u kno, like, when Judar & I were wrecking stuff, I really wanned you to be a part of it... ;_; like Im kinda gald u didnt but I WANTED you to you know,you were one of my only friends and we both tried to take our homelands back & I thought maybe we could do it together yknow Judar made fun of me when Ive mentioned"

"Oh... Um-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah ofc you wouldnt have agreed youre too GOOD for this im kinda glad you didnt but do you ever wonder what wouldve happened if you did???"

"...no, not really. There was no way I wouldve agreed to sth like-"

"We couldve ruled the world together Alibaba-dono, all of us, you and me and Judar ans Aladdin-dono, and Morgiana-dono, it wouldve been GREAT"

"No, it very much-"

"No it wouldnt have buf thats what I THOUGHT I missed you guys so fucking mych yo you didnt even say goodbye you were supposed to be my FRIEND"

"Oh, that, um. I panicked and Morgiana held me back..."

"Oh my gosh THATS what happened I thought you didnt like me anymore ;_; "

"What? NO! Of course I liked you! I still do!"

"You do??? 🥺 Even after I killed you??"

"Uh, it really sucked but yeah, and its not like I handled that all that wellOOPF"

(Hakuryuu hugs him)

[marveinator]

Afraid- Ellie Williams (4)

Afraid- Ellie Williams (Part 4)

part 3 -> masterlist

Summary: You decide to make the deal a real thing and go over to Ellie´s house...

A/N: I listened to girl in red while writing this. FINALLY STH IS HAPPENING! It´s short but the next chapter will be out tmrw or the day after tmrw, I´ll see how much time I will have to write. BYE!

Chapter warnings: flirting, fighting, idk... LMAO

I turned around and slowly opened my eyes. It was hot and I immediately decided to get rid of the sweater I was wearing. As I sat upright in my bed I noticed how my head began to hurt. I looked down at myself. A gray sweater. Definitely not mine, but the one from-.

"Fuck."

Ellie. I was wearing Ellie's sweater.

As if in one fell swoop, I remembered everything that had happened yesterday. Ellie. Me. Together. Kiss. Well, almost a kiss. But still. Just the thought that I had considered kissing her made me shiver. And then also that smoking had been my idea and I had thus caused everything, didn't make the whole situation any better.

On the contrary, I felt like shit. Sure, it had been nice with her, but where would a kiss have led? She would never talk about it again anyway and… how did I even know I liked girls in that way?

Ellie Williams POV I woke up with rays of sunshine on my face, which surprised me because it was usually really cold, it was winter after all. Slowly I moved from my bed and went to the window, I had forgotten to close the curtains. Today I had no patrol, which is why I actually wanted to sleep in. However, I could only sleep fragilely tonight.

I remembered only a part of what had happened yesterday, so I decided not to write any details in my diary. I opened the book that was placed on my bedside table, dug for a pen and began.

With a sigh I closed the book again. No chance that after last night things between me and her would ever be good again (they never really were, but still). A pickup line was not exactly the best way to settle a murder. Well, looking at it that way, could a murder even be settled at all? Probably not.

I shook my aching head and, to my disappointment, made myself take off her shirt.

Then I remembered something. We had a deal. A date, almost. Today, with me, a duel. Funny way to hang out, but it had been her idea after all, so the only question was whether she even remembered it and if yes, if she would come over...

your POV I had to go to Ellie. Well, I had suggested the "duel" after all. And besides, deep inside I wanted to go to her, too. I wanted to prove to her that I could fight (and I was sure I would do and say stuff that I would probably regret but fuck it, you only live once, right?).

When I stood in front of the big brown door in front of Ellie's house, I felt queasy. Was this really a good idea? Overthinking everything. Like I always did. Now I was already here and I would go through it.

Cautiously I knocked on the door. As if in one fell swoop, it was torn open and Ellie was standing in front of me.

"Oh. Hi," she said shyly. I smiled and returned a soft "Hey."

Cautiously, I stepped inside and Ellie moved aside to let me go through the entrance. "Uh- where do I put my shoes?", I asked and Ellie pointed to the floor under the coat rack where two jackets were hanging.

Carefully, I put my shoes down there and followed Ellie, who was on her way to the living room. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean-isn't it a little… I don´t know- childish?", Ellie asked.

I shook my head. "It was a deal, wasn't it? Besides, the idea that you think I'm weak bothers me quite a bit." Ellie's eyes widened and she had that grin on her face again, as if in an instant. "Oh, and why does that bother you so much?" She moved a little closer and stood in front of me. She was tall and I felt a little intimidated, but tried not to let it show.

"Are we going to start or not?", I interrupted her, "Any rules?" The girl in front of me thought for a while before replying, "Well, no one should die, but it won't come to that anyway. And maybe not break any bones?" I giggled and nodded, so Ellie was scared after all? "But- I won't go easy on you." Yeah right. She should probably be more afraid of ME. I mean I would already have a reason to want to kill her. But to my surprise I didn't want to do that at all right now, I just wanted to prove something to Ellie.

"Well, Els, let's get started then?"

Ellie Williams POV Els. She had given me a nickname… cute. Before I could answer anything, I felt my arm being twisted behind my back and suddenly my front was pressed firmly against the wall. "Woah, woah, slow there babe." The girl behind me just laughed and tried to trip me up. This time, however, I was faster and managed to turn around. With full force I let my leg slide under hers and so managed to make her fall down. Now she was lying on her back and I quickly crawled on top of her so that I was sitting on her in the area of her hip. I took both her arms with one hand and pressed them above her head so that she could not fight back. "That's unfair, I wanted to kick your ass all week," sighed the girl under me. "Well, this whole situation just shows that I'm stronger," I replied and had to grin.

your POV "Move your hands, Ellie." The brunette on top of me immediately let go of my arms and sat up a little straighter (still on top of me).

"Always on top huh?" The words left my mouth without me even thinking about it. Ellie's facial expression changed abruptly, almost as if she was in a state of shock. She didn't seem to know what to say now, so I said "Would you also get yourself off of me again sometime?" to distract from my previous question. Ellie got off of me and sat on the floor next to me. I sat upright as well, so I was back across from her. "I'm never going to stop talking about this" Ellie giggled. "What?", I asked with a raised eyebrow.

She leaned in closer and I felt that weird feeling in my stomach again. This couldn't be happening…. and this time I wasn't even high-

"I'm better than you at fighting," she whispered. I felt warmth shoot into my cheeks and I suddenly I forgot everything around me. There was just Ellie again. Only her.

"Really good for you Els, but I think there are a lot of things that I am better at than YOU…", I explained to her. She grinned again and leaned even closer to me, almost as if she was going to-

"Shut up for once, babe."

Ellie Williams POV It's Now or Never. I leaned in further and felt our lips touch. A comforting warmth shot through my body, one I hadn't felt in a long time. I carefully put my hand on her cheek and also noticed how she leaned in closer.

After a while we let go of each other and looked into each other's eyes. A smile formed, to my satisfaction, on her lips. "Yeah, Liam definitely wasn't a good kisser-" I had to laugh now as well, finally feeling complete again. That one kiss had healed so much that was broken inside of me. This girl could fix me, I just knew it.

"You should go now, babe, Maria and Tommy are probably wondering where you are…", I said as I brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She nodded in an understanding way and stood up.

Before she walked out the door she turned around and stared at me.

"Ellie," her soft voice said. "Yes?" She looked down at the floor and began to play nervously with her fingers. "Don't make me regret this." I sighed and nodded.

"I'll do my best."

[mountswhore]

Could u write one for Mason please? :) maybe after a shitty relationship he doesn’t trust girls anymore, not even y/n who he’s been on a couple of dates with. He trusts her, but not fully. Still afraid she might use him and run off as the last one has. At a party or sth someone talks shit about him and he defends him although he isn’t there. Ben records is secretly cause he’s a big fan of Mason and y/n together and wants him to know that he can fully trust her. I hope this makes sense! xx

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮��𝐬 — mason mount

summary: mason has no trust in girls since his ex, he never takes anything to the next level because of it. which makes his crush on you painful.

notes: requests are OPEN + i decided to change the end a bit, this is short, sorry <3

"Hey," you greeted, smiling into your phone although the man on the other end couldn't see you, "are you busy?"

Mason smiled at the sound of your voice, his heart picked up it's pace too. It usually did when he heard your voice, or saw you. The two of you had been walking the very thin line between friendship and relationship for a long time. Mason was well aware of your, somewhat, feelings for him. And you were aware of his feelings for you, but you knew he was holding off on moving it forward.

You'd been friends with Mason throughout his last relationship, which had essentially ruined his trust in women. After her, he stopped talking to you for a while, thinking you were only friends with him because of the buzz surrounding his name, but you'd quickly told him that wasn't the case. Some of his other mates would get him to go out, and when he did, he would stick with them rather than talk to girls.

You had been on a couple of dates over the past six months, when you had told him you liked him and he admitted he felt the same. And despite this 'situationship' not moving, you didn't dare to push Mason. You knew what he went through before, you knew he still had trust issues, and decided to let him go at his own pace.

"No, I'm free for the rest of the day. What's up?" He asked, sitting up from his spot on the couch.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a little lunch date," you suggested. Mason could hear you were already out and about and felt bad if he were to decline. "I just left work early, as I only went in for a meeting, and I saw your favourite pub is serving roasts for lunch."

"I'm sold. I will meet you there in twenty minutes."

Mason had made an effort with his appearance, as he liked you. He wanted to put as much work in as you were, even though he was hesitant to make anything exclusive with you. He knew he liked you, he knew he, eventually, wanted something out of this. He saw you in a long-term way, and it definitely helped that you were already friends.

"You look gorgeous," he spoke, finally embracing you as he found you at a small table by the window. You blushed, sitting down opposite him and sipping at the wine you ordered.

"I bought you a beer, thought you might be a bit thirsty."

"You know me too well." He smiled.

The two of you enjoyed your roast, talking about anything that came to mind, and you were enjoying your time with Mason as you always did. And you'd remembered what Ben had texted you this morning, about a party and asking you to convince Mason to go, as he liked you so much.

"So," you sighed, having ordered your second wine and sitting back in your chair, "why aren't you going tonight?"

Mason knew exactly what you were talking about. The party. Everyone had been banging on about it, and Mason left himself out of it. It would be a few hours of loud music, girls being far too touchy, and a constant reminder of why he had trust issues. But you would be there, that should be a reason in itself. If he had you, who cared about the loud music, clingy girls, and memories of exes?

"I just don't think I can do a party right now," Mason reasoned, flashing you the same smile you were giving him, an innocent, yet up-to-something grin. "We have like ten parties every week, I'm sure I can miss out on one."

"But you can't Mase," you whined, reaching over the table and taking his hand into yours, "come on, for me? Will you put up with the party for at least an hour, for me?"

"You drive a hard bargain," Mason joked, squeezing your hand and giggling, "but fine, I will put up with this party for one hour. After sixty minutes, if I'm not having fun, I'm gone." You nodded, squealing quietly and keeping his hand intertwined with yours.

Mason would rather be with you at his home, competing on whatever stupid game you impulse bought that week, instead of here. At a house party, acting like a bunch of American teenagers. Mason stayed with you from the moment you had arrived, finally finding comfort in someone within this house.

"How long have you been here?" You asked, walking with Mason towards the drinks table in the kitchen.

"Ten minutes, only fifty minutes left until I'm back in an Uber." Mason commented, holding his, now empty, cup still as you poured some liquor into it. "You know, you're more than welcome to join me back home. We can watch whatever bullshit you like."

"Sounds inviting. But I have a life, Mount."

Twenty more minutes had passed, and Mason was pretty much watching you talk to people. You sat on his lap with your arm around him and he kept a hand on your waist, making sure you didn't fall. You weren't complaining about the amount of affection he was showing, it was something, at least. And you felt one step closer.

The party was going well, for you, anyway, and that had come to an end when some guy had come up to you and Mason to greet himself.

"Hey, I'm Dan. I'm the homeowner, and good friends with Cal. How do you know him?" He greeted, and you could tell he was hammered. What man spoke so eloquently whilst sober?

"Hey, I'm Y/N, and this is Mason, as you know." You shouted over the music, leaning forward to the mans ear, and you felt Mason's grip on you tighten. "Me and Cal went to Uni together, and I introduced him to my football friends not too long ago."

"Oh, he mentioned you. Said you were the pretty girl he went to Uni with," Dan responded, and took another sip of his drink. "Me and him have been friends since primary school, we went to different Universities. I went to Cambridge."

"Very smart." You hummed, wanting him to walk off. You wanted to make sure Mason was having fun so he didn't have to leave in 27 minutes.

"You know," he slurred, leaning forward so you could hear him, and Mason could too, "the way Cal spoke about you, I thought you'd end up with him. Not this pretty boy. Cal is working to become a lawyer, and you want a boy who plays with balls for a living? Girls, man."

"Excuse me?" You asked, grimacing at the man opposite you. Mason held you tight, practically telling you with his hands to stop.

"Can't hear me? I'm saying you shouldn't be dating losers who earn half a million for putting a ball in a net." Dan repeated, and you stood up.

"And what do you do? Inhale the money from your parent's bank account because you went to a posh Uni? I don't choose a partner based on their job, or their money, or the Uni they went to. Mason is ten times the man you are, regardless of money." You shouted, and Dan rolled his eyes at you, as if you were a bratty six-year-old.

"Are you-"

Mason held the side of your face, pulling your face closer to his to kiss you. He'd let go of a part of him. The part that was doubting you and every girl he'd met after his ex, the part of him that was screaming about you using him. It was all gone. You were undeniably his, and he was undeniably yours.

"I still have," Mason looked down at his watch, "24 minutes, and I'd very much like it if you left with me."

[pretendicanwrite]

hii! so I'm like rly insecure, and also have anxiety, so it's rly difficult for me to feel important/special. so I would absolutely love if u could make a fic of insecure Leo? maybe abt finnlo being bff and the fact that he wasn't before or !sth like that? also I just would rly like to see the dynamic of the logan-leo relationship, cus i feel like I don't rly know much how it would be. don't feel pressured to do anything u don't wanna, take as much liberty as u want 🫶🫶

Hi! I had a really good time writing this, and it kind of got off-point in a few places, but I hope you enjoy it.

CW: Anxiety, Verbal fights, Arguments

**********

Hearing laughter out in the hallway pulled Leo away from the endless scrolling he was doing on TikTok. His boys had gone out tonight to a high-end bar/ casino that required you to be 21 to enter with the team to make an appearance after the game they won against the Vegas Knights. It was supposed to be a rivalry game between Cap and Greyback after the fight at their last one, so sports reporters were looking for quotes all over the city.

Logan had asked if Leo wanted them to ditch the team to go somewhere that didn’t require you to be over 21 just to enter, but he had turned them down not wanting to spoil their fun.

The laughter continued to get closer, and Leo shut his phone off and walked to the door to look through the peephole.

Finn and Logan were standing in the hallway right outside of the door now and were laughing so hard Leo was minorly concerned that Finn was going to face plant with how unsteady he looked on his own two feet.

Slowly, Leo opened the door to his boyfriends, and they quieted down some when they saw him.

“Hey, Lovernut. I’m sorry if we were loud. We didn’t mean to wake you,” Logan said, moving to wrap his arms around the goalie. “Talkie challenged us to take a shot every time James lost a game.”

Leo smiled softly as his boys, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Leo’s smiles always reached his eyes. Finn and Logan, although very drunk took notice of this and Finn stepped up to hug Leo as well.

“I’m sorry Nutter Butter. We should have just gone out with you tonight instead. I don’t know about Logan, but I thought maybe after such a tough game you wouldn’t want to go out with us, so when you turned us down I just took that as confirmation.”

He forgave them, even though he figured the forgiveness was more for them than for him. He didn’t see what they did as anything that he needed to forgive. He had turned them down, right? He told them it was fine to go out without him, and that’s what they did. There was nothing wrong with it.

Except he found himself in the same position a week later. Logan was still living with Dumo and his family, so naturally, Leo felt like he had built a closer and stronger bond with Finn.

The dynamics between the threesome were hard to figure out sometimes. Finn and Logan had known each other since Logan’s first year of college, and Finn and Leo had lived together for 6 months before the thought of a relationship was even brought up. So naturally, Finn and Logan, and Finn and Leo had known each other more, and all three should have been aware of this, but recently, it felt as if Leo were the only one who noticed.

Over the next few weeks, he started noticing all of the time that Finn and Logan spent together without him. Leo knew he shouldn’t be jealous. It was an agreed-upon relationship between the three of them, and it wasn’t like they were cheating if they chose to hang out just the two of them.

But sometimes, Leo felt like an afterthought.

Finally, on like the seventh time something like this had happened since the Las Vegas game, he finally snapped.

They had gone out for lunch around 2 in the afternoon and had promised to bring something back for Leo when he turned down their offer to go with them because he wasn’t feeling great.

It was well after one in the morning when they finally appeared back at the apartment.

Leo was sitting alone in the guest room he hadn’t really used since he confessed his feelings to the boys. He had never gotten around to decorating it, and the plain white walls were grating on his nerves ever so gently.

The laughter carried through the walls to where he sat alone on the uncomfortable, dusty bed. The only thing this room was used for was storage and closet space, but Leo had the feeling that there would be many more nights of him sitting alone in there.

Finally, after hearing another loud burst of laughter, and the just as loud ‘shh Leo’s probably sleeping’ he stormed out of the room, only to find his boys on the couch cuddling without him.

He stalked around the corner of the hallway and sat down quietly on the coffee table in front of them. He stared at the two loves of his life, and he could feel the tears gathering on his lower lash line.

He pondered the words for a few minutes, and at last with a breaking voice, and tears rolling down his face, he asked the dreaded question that had been floating around in his head for days. “What am I to you?”

His lovers’ faces snapped up at him when they heard the first syllable leave his chewed-up lips. To be honest, neither Finn nor Logan had a response. They thought it was obvious that Leo was their soulmate, and the fact that he was questioning it left them speechless.

Leo, on the other hand, took their silence to mean something very different. They didn’t know. They had been dating for well over 9 months, and they didn’t know what Leo meant to them.

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Leo cut him off with a strong sniffle. “I know that you guys have history, and I know that you guys were best friends, and were in love with each other well before I even arrived in Gryffindor, but that doesn’t give you guys the right to tell me I’m your boyfriend, then ignore me for each other. You guys were supposed to be back after lunch. You’ve been gone for at least 10 hours. I had planned a movie night for us and baked while you guys were gone, but you just left me here. For each other.”

“Leo, I’m s-”

“No, Logan. You don’t just get to apologize and expect me to just forgive you like I did the last few times. I’m sick and tired of feeling like an afterthought. You guys are the loves of my life, but if I’m not yours, I need to know. I can’t sit here and be happy with the minimal scraps you guys are throwing me, while I pour my heart out for you. You tell me you love me, but then you ditch me to hang out with each other.”

Logan stood up, his eyes brimming with tears. “That’s not fair. We ask you all the time if you want us to change our plans to include you, but you’re the one constantly turning us down. You don’t get to sit here and tell us we’re being shit boyfriends when you can’t even be bothered to join us. Why should we have to make plans that revolve around you, because you can’t just go along with us?”

Logan was never one to stand down in a fight. He was bullheaded and always had to prove that he was right. Leo knew this about him. He cared too much not to notice that Logan couldn’t turn down the adrenaline that came from confrontation.

“Exactly,” Leo whispered, looking down at his feet. “Change your plans. You never make plans with me. You make them with each other, and I’m an afterthought. Sometimes, when I’m around you two, I feel like a charity case, and you guys are only “dating” me because you feel sorry for me. And I know that’s terrible of me, but that’s how I feel. It’s how my shitty brain works.” Leo moved his hands up next to his face to make the air quotes when he said the word dating. “I don’t get it. I pour my heart out for you guys daily. I shower you with affection, and I make you breakfast because food and acts of service are my love languages. I’m always there for you, but you’re never there for me. You’re too busy being there for each other.”

Leo’s face had a dark flush on it, from crying, and from holding his breath for the majority of his explanation.

Finn moved to kneel in front of Leo, but Logan still stood there glaring down at the rookie. “So what? Because we don’t do everything the same way you do, you don’t think we love you? That’s bullshit, Leo.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. You’re not listening!”

Leo stood now as well, towering over Logan.

Despite having one of the highest fight counts in the NHL, Logan looked slightly scared as his boyfriend used his height to intimidate him.

Leo, upon noticing the subtle change in his boyfriend's attitude, shrunk in on himself and collapsed back on the coffee table.

“Do you see what this shit is doing to me? I just- Oh my god. I’m sorry.” Leo was full-on sobbing now, and Finn moved to gently pull the blonde into his arms.

“Leo. You have to know that this was never our intention. I personally thought that maybe you were just overwhelmed between hockey, moving to a new state, and being in a polyamorous relationship. And I know it’s been over a year, but you’ve barely had any downtime since joining the Lions. I thought that your turning us down meant that you wanted time alone and that you needed to process all of this. I never meant for you to feel like we didn’t want you as a part of this.”

“Finn? Are you seriously going to sit there and comfort him after he accused us of what? Using him?”

Finn glared at Logan, while simultaneously rubbing Leo’s back.

“Yes. I’m going to comfort our crying boyfriend, and you are going to leave the room so that everyone has some time to cool down. Got it? I’ll come to talk to you soon.”

Logan didn’t even bother with a response. He just threw his arms up, scoffed, and turned to walk down the hallway.

Leo picked his head up and stared at his red-headed boyfriend. “I just ruined everything. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you guys feel like this. I just- I… I’m tired of feeling like a burden.”

Finn shushed him, still rubbing circles on his back. “First off, you can’t make somebody feel someway. Their response is exactly that. Theirs. Second of all, saying that you would rather do something else, is not being a burden. Now, I’m not making excuses for Logan, and I’m not going to make excuses for you when I go talk to him, but I want you to know some things. Some of the outings we’ve taken have been Logan taking me to therapy.”

Leo sniffled again, and he tried to speak, but Finn cut him off with a gentle ‘shh.’

“It’s not that I didn’t want you to know, but I didn’t want to unload all of my problems on you while you were still adjusting, and while you seemed uncomfortable. One of the reasons that Logan knows is that sometimes the sessions leave me emotionally and physically drained, and I need someone to drive me. I promise, I have not been trying to exclude you, and I’m sure that Logan hasn’t been either, but a lot of my sessions are about the things that happened at Harvard, and Logan understands that. He knows what I went through there, and one day, when we all feel ready, I want you to know about it too, but that’s not right now. Now, is there anything else you want to ask, or discuss before I go talk to Logan?”

Leo shook his head, and stood up, pulling his boyfriend with him. Leo wrapped his long arms around Finn and settled his chin on the bright red hair. “I’m sorry again. I do love you guys, but I guess I just kind of lost sight of the fact that you love me too.”

Finn merely nodded and gave Leo’s jaw a soft kiss, then pulled out of his arms heading towards his room, where Logan would be waiting.

When Leo heard the door close, he walked down the hall to stand outside of the room. He knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he realized he had hurt Logan.

“Why did I say all of that shit to him?”

“I don’t know, but he’s hurt and the things that happened out there did not help. But I told him about the therapy, and he understood a little where we were coming from.”

Leo heard a sharp exhale, probably from Logan.

“I don’t even know why I said that. I didn’t mean any of it, and I sure as hell never think things like that. I love him, I do, but it was so easy to just say that shit to him. He just sat there and said all this crap about us not caring for him, and I guess I thought it would be easier to make him hate us if he decided to leave. I think I thought it would hurt less or something, but I hurt him, and I never wanted to do that. I just didn’t want to relive the pain of when you left me at Harvard. God, I’m so sorry!”

There were a few sniffles before Leo heard the sound of feet scuffling across the floor.

“I’m not the one you need to say that too.”

“What if he never forgives me? I didn’t want to say that. I didn’t mean any of it!”

Leo chose this moment to open the bedroom door, and walked right up to Logan. “I know that you didn’t mean it. I can’t say that you’re forgiven, because it hurt, but I do know that you’re sorry. You never answered my question though. What am I to you?”

Logan let out a watery laugh and turned to fully face the blond in the doorway. “I just told Finn that I loved you when I didn’t even know you were there. Do you honestly think I feel anything less than love?”

“You can love me and not want to be in a relationship with me. Finn, can you just let us work this out between ourselves, sweetheart? I want you to stay here, but I think it’s really important that we don’t have you act as a buffer between us. We need to say the things that we mean, and we need to be able to have these things out in the open.”

Finn, albeit a bit hesitant nodded and sent a small, soft smile toward his boys before walking towards the dresser, and leaning on it.

Logan plopped on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. “I think that I said those things so that the pain of you leaving would be less because I would know that you were angry, not heartbroken. I never want you to be heartbroken because that would break my heart.”

Leo, nodded, taking the seat offered next to his shorter boyfriend. “We could have just talked.”

“It was kind of hard when you were telling us that we were purposefully leaving you out.”

Leo took the subtle dig, dropping his head.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out how I wanted it to.”

“No, I deserved that.”

Logan turned on the bed, pulled one leg up next to him, and gently grabbed the rookie's hands. “You don’t deserve it, Le. I was angry, you were angry, and I think deep down, we both still are.”

Silence fell over the room for a minute as both boys took time to think. They were still connected at the hands, and neither of them made a move to change their positions, but Logan could tell that Leo was trying not to fidget his way right out of his seat.

“Look, we both know that I don’t handle my emotions in the most healthy way, but I’m trying here. I know that I just made a mistake out there, but I’m acknowledging it, and I’m trying to talk about it. I guess… I guess I didn’t want to believe that I could be making you feel like that. Harzy hadn’t told anyone, including you, that he was going to therapy, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell you where we had spent some of our time, and I couldn’t lie to you, so I guess it was just easier to ignore the fact that we spent so much time out. I-I love you, and I don’t ever want you to question that. I’m sorry that my actions have broken our trust, and I’m sorry that I made you feel unworthy.”

Leo dove onto his boyfriend, his cheeks wet with silent tears.

With Logan’s previous issues handling his emotions, his heartfelt speech meant everything to Leo. Even if he couldn’t forgive him at this exact moment, he knew that Logan meant every word of what he said.

“It wasn’t my place to tell you, but I could have told you some of the truth and I didn’t, so that’s on me. I’m sorry babe. I am truly so so sorry.”

There was work to be done, and so many things that the cubs had to learn to navigate, that a majority of couples didn’t, but after this threat of heartbreak, they knew that they had to work on it. They meant everything to each other, now they just had to learn to show it.

**********

I hope you enjoyed it!

[spidernerdsblog]

Hi 🙋‍♀️I have a request if u take them. Cud u write sth about Tom Holland x singer reader and the reader is performing at the Grammys or sth and the performance and song and costume is like really seggsy and Tom gets jealous??? Idk 🤷‍♀️ Sorry to bother u I just love your writing

Sorry this took me so long was at a lack of ideas. I strongly believe Taylor Swift’s reputation deserved a Grammy. So I'm borrowing her album for the reader. Hope you like this.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Singer! Reader

Warnings : angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive theme, missed typos

Mini Playlist : Endgame by Taylor Swift, There’s nothing holding me back by Shawn Mendes

Baby I'm jealous

You and Tom were seated at the back when your limo pulled over at the venue. You could hear the commotion from the inside even though you have walked numerous red carpets by now but it still seems to be a little nerve racking to you. Especially when this is the first time Tom is accompanying you to the Grammys which is going to be a big deal for the media. The security personnel opened the door and as you stepped out of the car you were flooded with flashing lights from the cameras. 

Tom held out his hand for you, you slipped your arm into his and walked with a dazzling smile posing for the cameras “you look amazing, darling” he knelt down to whisper in your ear. In the meantime a lady journalist came forward to ask you a bunch of questions. 

“So Y/N three nominations this year, how are you feeling?” 

“Well it’s always good to be back here and share the stage with all these talented artists as usual I’m excited and looking forward to the night” you answered.

“We see you have brought company this year” she remarked which had you blushing.

“Yeah, I couldn't think of a better company than him on this very important occasion” you said bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Tom, what do you have to say?” she poses the question to him.

“Uhh I mean she has always been an incredible singer and her songs are the reason that made me fall in love with her in the first place” he replied looking proudly at you.

“Aww you both are adorable. Wish you the best” she said before leaving.

“Thank you so much” you thanked her, walking inside the auditorium and sat on your designated seats. There you were met with lots of your friends from the music industry as you said hi and chatted with them for a while.

“Hey Y/N how are you?!” you heard Shawn from behind as you turned around and went to eagerly hug him. You and Shawn were really good friends from the beginning of your career and you have always been supporting each other’s works.

“I’m good, how are you?” you chirped.

“I’m fine now” he remarked cheekily and went to sit beside you as you started talking catching up on each other totally ignoring Tom. To be honest he was a little annoyed seeing you so over friendly with him but he brushed off his thoughts quickly.

The show began and a few awards were distributed with some performances in between by different artists. You too had to perform for tonight which also included a duet with Shawn and soon your time came as you stood up from your seat to go backstage.

“Best of luck, love” Tom said to boost your confidence.

“Thanks babe” you kissed on his cheek lovingly.

“See you on the stage Y/N” Shawn snickered.

“Oh I’m looking forward to it” you blew him an air kiss and headed backstage to change into your stage outfit. The stage was set and you could hear the loud cheers of the audience from backstage. Truth to be told you always get a little nervous before any public concert but this time it was different because Tom sat there in the audience and you are more excited than nervous to perform. The lights went out and the screen doors slid open as you walked on the stage with the spotlight on you. The notes begin to play as you vocalize striding across the stage with oomph.

I wanna be your endgame

I wanna be your first string

I wanna be your A-Team

I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The crowd cheered as the supporting dancers slowly entered the stage. Tom sat amidst the crowd in awe witnessing you in your full glory. You owned the stage like a queen. He knew you were the prettiest woman he has ever met but the bodycon suit you were wearing accentuated your curves all at the right places.

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me we got big reputations, ah

And you heard about me, ooh

I got some big enemies

You waltzed around the stage with a sultry look in your eyes, slightly swaying your hips making the crowd go crazy. Tom was very good at keeping his emotions under check but when it comes to you he’s a possessive man so when he heard a few men from the crowd passing comments of how hot and sexy you looked he was fuming from inside. You went on to sing two more songs from your album then transitioned to Shawn’s latest single.

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

“Make some noise for Shawn Mendes!” you cheered as he emerged from the backstage playing the chords on his guitar and the audience screamed at the top of their voice.

I wanna follow where she goes

I think about her and she knows it

I wanna let her take control

'Cause everytime that she gets close, yeah

He sang with his gaze directed at you which didn’t go unnoticed by Tom who was looking at you both with narrowed eyes and clenched jaws. 

She pulls me in enough to keep me guessing (mmm)

And maybe I should stop and start confessing

Confessing, yeah

You joined in singing along the lyrics with him exchanging flirtatious gestures with each other. You encouraged the audience to sing along with you.

Oh, I've been shaking

I love it when you go crazy

You take all my inhibitions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

There's nothing holdin' me back

There's nothing holdin' me back

You were clearly having a fun time sharing the stage with Shawn as you both swayed to the beat with a wide smile and the crowd cheered you on. Tom heard  someone saying “they make a good pair” and he completely lost it. Now he was jealous even though he knows it’s wrong because you had always made it clear that you loved him more than anything but you in that ravishing outfit dancing and singing being way too comfortable around each other wasn’t helping much. 

Your performance ended after some time and Tom couldn’t be anymore happier. You were back in the audience again as Shawn couldn’t stop praising you “you just set the stage on fire Y/N! It was awesome”

“Oh shut up! You weren’t bad either” you quipped. Tom sat there silently feeling neglected at how you had time to talk with everyone except him. The show ended with you winning the three categories you were nominated for : album of the year, song of the year and artist of the year. You were elated at your achievements as your team escorted you for a photo session. You saw Tom standing at a distance and walked over to him.

“Why are you standing here? Come and stand with me” you said, grabbing his arm.

“No I’m better off standing here rather than being your arm candy” he says bitterly pulling out his arm from your hold.

“What?!” you were slightly taken aback as you looked at him in confusion.

“Hey Y/N!” your manager called out.

“Just a moment!” you told him to wait and dragged Tom to a corner.

“What the hell was that back there?” you hissed at him.

“You know it very well” you shrugged with a disinterested look on his face.

“I-I really don’t understand where this is coming from Tom but are you upset with something?” you were really concerned with his sudden outburst.

“Well isn’t that obvious? When your girlfriend brings you to a public event to treat you like a sidepiece and goes on flirting with her colleagues on stage it is naturally upsetting” he jabbed at you.  

“Are you even listening to what you are saying Tom? Everyone here are my work friends just like you have” you retorted in a hushed tone.

“Well it looked more than just friends” he bit back.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you were totally done with him, fuming at his accusation.

“Y/N come fast!” your manager called you again.

“Yeah coming!” you replied and turned to Tom again “you know what it was actually my fault that I brought you along with me. I thought we were ready to take the next step in our relationship but it clearly doesn’t look like that” you snapped at him and walked back to have your pictures taken. You were stopped by various people, for interviews as well as to congratulate you for your win but you were so annoyed with Tom you couldn’t concentrate properly.

Towards the end of the night, you had almost forgotten about Tom’s comments as you busied yourself into conversations with different people from the industry, sipping on champagne. 

As soon as he cooled down Tom was quick to realize his mistake and tried to approach you several times, but you successfully ignored him by preoccupying yourself elsewhere. He eventually caught up to you, grabbing your arm before you could walk away “Y/N, please. Can we just talk for a second?”

“No I don’t think so because I’m quite busy flirting with each and every guy over here” you snapped, turning to walk away. He grabbed your arm again, “Y/N, c’mon love, I’m really sorry” he whined.

You whipped around “not now Tom. We will talk after we get out of here so if you will excuse me” saying so you walked away to be stopped by a reporter for another interview. The after party ended an hour as you and Tom exited the place. You climbed into the limo, quickly putting up the privacy window. Tom climbed in after you, taking a seat glancing at you.

“What?” you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. You could tell he was really upset with what he’d said earlier. 

“Y/N.. I can't even explain how sorry I am” he started “I know I was being a dick back there and I feel terrible about it”

You leaned back in your seat sighing “you know what, I'm really tired. Can we talk about this after we reach home?” He nodded silently in agreement without uttering a single word on the drive back.

Once you got home, you walked through the living room and made your way into your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed taking off your heels and massaged your ankles. After sometime Tom joined you in the bedroom. He takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie as you stare at him for a second. He looked so good in formal attire which filled your head with filthy thoughts. How you could have celebrated your win in a different way but he had to ruin it by acting out like that.

“Y/N, I truly am sorry. I.. I have no excuse for my behavior. It was completely my fault” he walked over to you, sitting next to you on the bed.

You sighed deeply and stood up walking over to your walk in closet. Your hands went to your back to reach out to the zipper of your dress “I really didn’t expect this from you at least. Of all the people I thought you would understand since you are in the same line of work” you said with disappointment clear in your voice. Tom hung his head low in shame.

“I know babe it was rude and totally uncalled for. I was a fucking idiot and let my insecurities get the best of me” he said with remorse.

“Then just think about how I feel when I have to watch you making out with other women on screen. I never said anything to you. Instead I always supported you and you on the other hand questioned our relationship just because I was singing and dancing with someone else who happens to be a very good friend of mine” you ranted still struggling with the zipper of your dress “a little help please?” you huffed slightly irritated and angry.

Tom bit back a smile as he walked over to you and helped you unzip your dress. He took your hands in his and pecked on them gently “I didn't mean to ruin the night for you” he apologized, looking down at your hands.

You pulled out your hands and crossed your arms “well it wasn’t that bad given that I won three Grammys but I wished you were there by my side” you said completely forgetting that you were standing there in just your strapless bra and very tiny pair of lace underwear.

Tom was eyeing you the whole time with a known smirk plastered on his face. You noticed that and looked down at yourself “oh, c’mon. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here!” you scoffed, throwing your hands in the air. You shook your head in annoyance and grabbed the black silk robe, tying it around your body.

Tom was broken out of his trance as he walked over to you, placing a hand on your cheek “Y/N believe me I’m really sorry. I wish I could take back all the horrible things I said to you. You didn’t deserve any of it. Sorry for being such a jerk to you”

Your expression softened as you held his hand gently “well I’m glad to hear that. And even if I try I can’t stay mad at you for a longtime so apology accepted” you said with a smile. 

“Thank you darling it would never happen again I promise” he says stroking his thumb on your cheek bone as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips “and I mean it” he stated a hand reaching up to untie your robe as your robe fell open, your breath hitched “though it was slightly your fault too, how do you expect me to not get jealous seeing you with someone else looking so bloody gorgeous in that outfit?” he hooked his index finger under the silk on your shoulder, pulling the robe down slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin “but I’m really sorry” he whispers in a husky tone. 

“Then prove it” you looked at him challengingly, a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without any further delay Tom crashed his lips to yours effortlessly lifting you up by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

...........................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[angelguk]

this prompt: jock!jaykay and namjoon running into each other at a party or sth and namjoon being like ‘you finally grow a pair and ask oc out yet?’ and jks just like 😧 and joons like ‘seriously dude? 😑 i’ve been waiting for you to ask her out since before i even dated her’. but make it more angst!!! namjoon is kind of an asshole here. there’s smoking, drinking and jk getting a brief lapdance. oc is a LIAR. jaykay deep in his feels tbh. roughly 1.5k. listen to all i wanted by paramore

Jeongguk's crossed too many paths with people during his life to remember every face his eyes have ever seen. But there’s one he will never forget, no matter how hard he tries to scrub the memory from his brain, ignore the muted forlorn twang in his heart, the low ache that ebbs from the base of his skull. It sparks up again despite years of never seeing the individual who caused the problem. How could he forget those broad shoulders? The sharp analytic eyes. The man whom you’d attached yourself too for a good chunk of your joint high school careers. It surprises him, honestly, because Jeongguk’s got a girl grinding on his lap but his eyes are locked on Namjoon, ears trailing after the sound of his deep laugh instead of the sweet nothings Nayeon (or Naeun, or Nayoung — he can’t fucking remember) is murmuring into the hollow of his neck.

For one, he’s fucked out of his mind. Taehyung probably laced the joint; he liked doing that shit even when it messed up Jeongguk’s trip. He should have known not to take a hit, but he was already ten shots in and nothing sounded better than smoke in his lungs. Maybe not nothing. This girl feels good in his hands, responds to the lightest of his touches, moans in his ear like she wants him to fuck her.

He could. He has before. Probably. She knows exactly where to nip his neck for this to have not been a repeat hook-up. But in the haze of the low living room lights and the spinning headiness of the drinks he’d downed, he couldn’t make out her face. It’d shift and twist and turn into an image that almost makes him want to cry because, at some angles, when the shadows form right, he thinks he can see your face. It could be you in his lap, you whimpering whenever your crotches aligned just right, you clinging to him like the sun hangs onto the evening sky.

But it’s not.

And for some unfathomable reason, Jeongguk’s ruined mind recognises that sucks.

Because it should be you.

He doesn’t know how he gets that girl off. Probably some lie that he needed to pee. In reality, he needed to breathe, because those thoughts surface with malicious intent, purposefully drawing him closer to deep dangerous waters. If he’s not careful he could easily drown, suffocated by desires he can’t even string together into a comprehensible sentence.

The night air hits sharp, seeping through his loose shirt. It grounds him enough for his steps to stabilise, feet following a slow trudge to the edge of the balcony. He doesn’t even know whose house this is. Somebody he’s probably never met honestly. But he wanted you to come. Everyone was coming out tonight. Even your elusive roommate Sohee was somewhere in some bathroom with a head between her thighs. You probably are doing that too, to be far. Even the name evokes bile from his throat, bitter and violent, full of jealousy he’d never really learnt to contain.

Lee Eunwoo. A graphic design major. Slightly taller than Jeongguk (only when Jeongguk is having a bad day) and somehow he can make you giggle like he’s getting paid for it.

You’d mentioned it so softly that Jeongguk didn’t even hear it at first. But then your cheeks had heated up, that stupid sparkle melting through your gaze. You wanted to spend the night with him, take advantage of an empty apartment, perhaps watch a movie or two.

It's obvious that you were going to sleep with him. The thought itself irked something visceral inside of Jeongguk. But he’d given you an easy smile, laughed at the modesty of your demeanour and wished you well with a tight hug. The same low buzzing of frustration that he got when you were with Namjoon was already waning through his system as he completed his sets at the gym with more force than needed.

Which is why he can’t help but release a bitter laugh into the night. Ironically, Namjoon was here while you were getting your back blown out by another idiotic guy Jeongguk did not like.

“What’s so funny?”

He can’t spin around to face him, Jeongguk knows he’ll throw up if he does. But he can’t forget a timbre like that. Not when you nearly wrote a poem about how wonderful Kim Namjoon’s voice was. A poem which you recited to Jeongguk before he begged you to rip it to shreds and never talk about again.

(Subconsciously Jeongguk had adopted a deeper voice whenever he talked to you since then. It came out more when he was drunk, but it’s not like you paid any attention anyway).

“Nothing,” he returns. He hopes Namjoon gets the hint and goes away. The bastard joins him on the balcony instead.

“No, seriously, what’s funny? You look like you’ve got a lot going on in your head.” Namjoon was always so concerned in talking about emotions and putting your feelings into words. It’s one of the reasons why you loved him and probably reason one thousand why Jeongguk hated him.

“Hello to you too, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you think we should catch up on the pleasantries before you start psychoanalysing me?” He retorts, forcing his gaze onto the other man. Namjoon looks good; golden skin, broad shoulders and his hair cropped short. There’s an ease to him that Jeongguk could never replicate no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re born sure of yourself. Like Namjoon was.

The laugh he receives is empty. Namjoon is busy rifling through his pockets, fingers emerging with a joint and a lighter. “Nice to see you too, Jeon. Didn’t think I’d ever bump into you after high school but the universe works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” The jay slips between his lips, followed by a swift flick of the lighter before a deep inhale that Jeongguk swears he feels in his lungs. The smoke floats out pretty, fading into wisps of nothing but grey as the breeze sweeps it away. Namjoon offers it cordially, a simple raise of his defined eyebrows and even though Jeongguk’s legs are melting through the floor he can’t say no.

“You sure?” The doubt tinting his tone makes him take it. His overestimation in his maintenance capabilities leads to a rather rough inhale, and an even worse hacking cough that he wants to be mortified at because Namjoon fucking laughs. But he can’t when the world feels like air in his fingertips, slowly slipping away. Almost like you feel at times. 

“You should stop taking the shit Taehyung rolls. I don’t even know what he slips in there but last time I smoked with him I thought I was on Mars.”

“Taehyung offers, I never ask.”

“You never ask for anything to be frank.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Namjoon returns, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yeah, I fucking did. I was giving you the chance to pretend you didn’t say it.” Jeongguk’s all in his space in an instant, the itch to smash Namjoon’s face tingling beneath his skin. Namjoon doesn’t even back up, gracing Jeongguk with a quizzical look that leaves him bewildered. “You don’t fucking know me—"

“I do.” There’s a scoff that riles him up even further. Namjoon’s still incredibly unbothered as he talks. “You think being Y/N’s boyfriend I didn’t hear everything and anything about you? Jeongguk this! Jeongguk that! You know that’s the reason we broke up, right?”

That halts him, a lag in his brain as he attempts to process the words leaving Namjoon’s mouth. The older man just stares at him, the sigh that drifts in between them bordering on pity.

“She didn’t tell you that, did she? Y/N lies about a lot more things than you think, Jeon. Where is she by the way? I’ve seen all her friends but I haven’t seen her.”

“Why would you know her friends?” It’s a stupid question but in the jumble of his thoughts it’s the only thing his mind is capable of plucking out. A question that doesn’t leave him bare and vulnerable like the other one’s racing through his head.

“We don’t have each other blocked on everything. Sometimes we talk,” Namjoon supplies easily. And just like that Jeongguk crumbles. He’s not even aware of it but the first crack spears deep enough to leave the rest of him unstable, wavering as he falters away from Namjoon. You never told him any of this. As far as Jeongguk knew you ended the relationship hating him (a thought that briefly consoled Jeongguk if he’s being truthful). But apparently, you felt comfortable enough to share your life with the person Jeongguk thought hurt you the most.

“Man, fuck you.” It’s a release, to say it. Because honestly fuck Kim Namjoon. In the span of a few short sentences he’s tipped everything he’s ever been sure of upside-down, stomped on Jeongguk’s heart like it was bendable and ducked his head right into the ocean he was afraid of diving it, keeping it under until the water filled his lungs and Jeongguk ceased to function.

Namjoon shrugs, not even looking as Jeongguk stumbles back to the door. He needs to find you, ask how much of Namjoon’s words were true. He doesn’t care if Eunwoo is over he’ll kick him out if need be.

But then Namjoon opens his mouth one more time, the final nail in the coffin.

“You should have asked her out. I was waiting for you to it — she was probably waiting too.”

[ladymarycrawley]

Please please please can you write a John Stones one based on last nights match maybe involve your kids just fluffy please

I had in mind of writing sth about last night but, due to the little time I have and all the requests I have to write, I worked on this short but sweet fic. Hope you like it! 💞

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @stonesyy @johnstonesfc @prideofpd

Mr Man of the Match - John Stones

There was only one word to describe the way John played in that night game against Chelsea: perfection. He defended splendidly hence winning a well deserved Man of the Match award. You were literally buzzing at the sight of him so happy, hugging his teammates after the win.

Iris and Aidan, your babies, were really excited too and started jumping around the room the moment Riyadh scored the key goal for the result. Well, Iris would have liked to bounce around with her brother but she was still too little to be able to do that, so she just kept on babbling and looking around to see what was happening.

"Daddy's been amazing!" You encouraged them as he turned the volume of his joyful cheers even louder the moment their dad appeared in the screen to do the post march interview.

"Daddy!!" Aidan screamed pointing his finger at the tv.

You looked at the screen with a big grin plastered on your face as you were cradling baby Iris in your arms.

John himself had the biggest grin ever on his face, you were pretty sure he was on cloud nine after the amazing performance he just gave.

"When will dada come home?"

"Late baby, you can't wait for him awake"

"In an hour?"

"Nope, in 3 hours at least"

"Oh no!" He always said those two words holding the biggest grudgethat never failed to make you laugh. He really was such an adorable kid. "But I wanna see dad!"

"It's getting late, hun, and it's way past your bedtime" You said, glancing at the time the clock's hands were striking, past 11.

Aidan huffed as he wasn’t exactly happy with the decision you took for him but he still walked upstairs as you followed him to help get changed to go to bed.

John arrived a couple of hours later and of course he found you all asleep. He smiled when he saw you sleeping in Aidan’s tiny bed next to him with Iris breathing peacefully on your chest.

"Hi pretty lady" He cooed, brushing his forefinger against her blonde thin hair, her blue eyes fixed on him.

You stirred in your sleep and blurted your eyes put when your eyes recognised the tall figure before you.

"Hey"

He sat on the bed as you hugged him thighs, your lips pressed in his temple.

"Welcome home, Mr Man of the Match" You whispered before kissing him on the lips.

John got up, with Iris in his arms so you could get up too and go to your bigger bed.

"You played so brilliantly" You shared a quick chat about the game before going to bed as your eyes travelled on his movements as his was taking his clothes off.

"I'm so so proud of you" You whispered while snuggling against his chest, his arms wrapping around your body. "You deserve it"

"What do you want, Mrs Stones? You're being too nice for your own standards..."

"I can't say I'm proud of my man??"

"I know you want something in return..." John muttered, kissing your collarbone and following then in your neck.

"I want - Aidan?? Wh -"

"Daddy's here!" Your son screamed at the top of his lungs before throwing himself into your bed, making you and John laugh out loud.

"You were great!"

"Thanks buddy!" He ruffled his hair before kissing his head.

"You should be sleeping..."

He ignored you as he had already fallen asleep in his dad's arms, his own hero.

"Well, I guess I won't give you my reward tonight"

[nbrook29]

Kiss or Slap part 2

part 1

Robbe stands in front of the mirror, eyes critical as he assesses the forest green shirt, plucking at the collar that’s digging uncomfortably into his neck. It’s not like the shirt is ugly; the problem is that it’s not and that it looks a bit too formal. But then again, Robbe wouldn’t know for sure since he’s never been on a real date before. He’s feeling a bit helpless in that area, to be honest.

He has a half a mind to text the boys and ask for advice, but just as the thought passes his brain he scoffs because it’s just silly; the only thing he would gain from doing that would be merciless teasing for weeks on end. Thanks, but no thanks.

Sighing, he glances in the direction of the hall, debating with himself whether asking for Zoe’s opinion is the right option here, but deep down he knows that otherwise, he’s gonna be standing i front of that mirror agonizing over his appearance for the next twenty minutes if someone doesn’t talk some sense into him.

The way Zoe’s eyes widen in surprise when he enters her room lets him know that yes, he is overdressed. 

“Too much?” He scrunches up his face, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Well, I mean... you look really nice, but, um, maybe go for a t-shirt instead?” Zoe suggests, looking almost apologetic. Robbe hovers in the threshold, still not totally convinced.

“Yeah?” 

“You clearly feel uncomfortable in that, plus he’s not taking you to an expensive restaurant or something so I think you should just go for chill,” she pauses, trying to remember something. “That pink t-shirt you have? You look really cute in it! You should wear that.”

“I don’t wanna look cute, Zoe, I wanna look hot,” Robbe blurts out, pink blooming on his cheeks when Zoe coos at him in that annoying way she always does and he immediately covers his face. “Stop.”

She giggles at his embarrassment, patting his arm consolingly as she pretends to give him a once over. “You do look hot, no matter what shirt you’re wearing.”

“Yuck, that sounds weird coming from you.” Robbe fake-gags and gets a smack on his chest. “I’m outta here, thanks.” Before he manages to close the door, Zoe catches his arm and shoots him a comforting smile.

“And calm down. He’s already into you, he won’t care what you’re wearing, Robbe.”

It’s easier said than done. Ever since he woke up, he’s been a giddy, anxious, yet excited mess, butterflies flying rampant in his stomach, fingers drumming absent-mindedly on the nearest surface, and he’s-

Well.

He’s been kinda freaking out.

Somehow (he has no idea how), he managed to keep his cool during that faithful afternoon a week ago when a boy came up to him with a dumb YouTube challenge, he’d even call himself flirty and bold. 

He’s not so sure he’ll be able to provide a repeat performance tonight. Not with that particular charming smile directed at him, almost making him whimper because no one should have the right to be that handsome. At the time, the infatuation was laced with disappointment and anger so Robbe guesses that’s what helped him keep his cool.

Only to melt into a pile of goo minutes later when Sander’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment over what popped on his phone screen.

Bambie eyes

Robbe smiles at the memory, trying to keep it small and not look like a psychopath that’s grinning to himself for no reason. It proves to be difficult though, those damn butterflies not easing out when an image of Sander combing his fingers through his longish bleached strands pops into his mind, uninvited, but oh so welcome if Robbe’s being honest.

Back in his bedroom, he fishes out the pink t-shirt from the drawer, sending a thank you to the past Robbe who finally did his laundry last Wednesday. His comfort level is up immediately after he takes the green shirt off and pulls the pink one over his head; the material doesn’t dig in anywhere, and it’s just... him. He doesn’t feel like a clown anymore. 

A quick look at his watch and he curses under his breath. If he doesn’t want to be late, he needs to leave in five minutes tops. It’s probably better this way since it means less time for freaking out. Once he sprays a bit of cologne on his clothes and grabs his wallet, he gives himself one last look in the mirror, fingers attempting to tame his curls at least a little, but it proves to be a lost cause. As usual. His hair just has a mind of its own. He doesn’t let himself obsess too much about it though, and as he closes the door behind the flatshare his mind wanders to two weekends ago, the corners of his lips twitching on their own.

  “You look like an angel with those curls. I should get you a halo or s’mthing.”

He’s in his personal space all of a sudden and as Sander’s breath grazes his face, Robbe’s own breath stutters, but the freakout has no time to breakthrough on his features because Sander’s eyes swivel up, glazed with alcohol as he tugs gently at one of the brown strands.

“I really like ‘em, you know? They’re so... silky. And pretty.” A lightbulb goes on in his head, his lips widening in a smile. “You’re so pretty.”

 Drunken confessions never really seemed particularly sweet to him, but with Sander gazing at him like he hung the moon and the stars, his jaw slightly open as if in wonder, it was difficult for Robbe to feel anything else than fondness, heart fluttering in his chest, so enamoured with the boy with white hair that it would have blushed if it could.

That white hair and green eyes have been the main stars of his dreams ever since.

Okay. That’s not entirely true. There were glimpses before that. After all, Sander had been the first thing he noticed at the Academie. But at the time, he had only been his looks to Robbe, golden skin and intriguing smirks, face scattered with moles and legs for days. 

And lips. Lips that looked soft like a rose petal.

He had dreamed about those lips a lot then.

He still can’t believe his brain holds the memory of kissing them with his own. 

Again. Peak boldness for him.

And yet, he’s so nervous now, walking fast-paced to the nearest tram stop, praying his chaotic energy won’t make him look like an idiot once he’s faced with Sander again. His only saving grace, the only reason the full on freakout seems to be kept at bay is the reminder that even though Sander is way out of his league, he’s also a bit of a dork, and that honestly makes Robbe feel better. 

He’s a hot dork though.

But a dork nonetheless.

Deep down Robbe hopes he’s gonna become his dork. 

The city passes behind the window in a whirlwind of colors, creating the perfect background for him to get lost in his thoughts, daydreaming to the sounds of the playlist crafted specifically for him, courtesy of Sander. As Bowie sings about absolute beginners, a notification ping pulls him back from his musings, lips smiling on their own when he sees Sander posted a photo.

And what a photo it is, fuck.

A part of his face, edges smudged with shadows leaving only his eye in focus, dark eyebrow curtained a little with wet bleached strands, everything in black and white aesthetics because Sander rarely does colors, Robbe came to find out. 

  With eyes completely open

But nervous all the same

 He wonders if the lyrics relate to their date or it’s just his wishful thinking.

Quick fingers like the photo and then take a screenshot of his own Spotify to send it to him. Robbe doesn’t have to wait long for the reply, a string of “🤯” blowing up his phone followed by “I’m so proud 🤧”, which again confirms that Sander is, indeed, a dork. 

Robbe shoots him a “😂” and scrolls up a bit to check the address again.

 Robbe: I watched the video

Robbe: It was cool 😎 

Sander: Oh yeah? 

Robbe: But somebody cut me out of it 🤔🙄 

Sander: I told them to, it was too personal 😌 

Robbe: Oh 🙃 

Sander: + You're too pretty for our dumb videos 🤷🏼‍♂️ 

Robbe: 🙈 stop 

Sander: You are 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: You're making me blush 🙊 

Sander: Well good, you're cute when your cheeks are all pink 😏 

Robbe: 🤪 

Sander: But you're always cute so 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: Okay stop haha 

Sander: 😎 

Robbe: Thank you tho 😊 

Sander: You're welcome x

Sander: Now go to sleep, I need you to be rested for tomorrow! 

Robbe: Tell me where we're going 🥺 

Sander: Nope 

Robbe: Please 🥺 

Sander: Nope 😌 

Robbe: How should I know you're not gonna kidnap me or sth 🤔 

Sander: Robin! I would never! 😟😟 

Robbe: Robin? 

Sander: Yeah

Sander: You like it? :) 

Robbe: I think so :)

Sander: Good 😌

Sander: Oranje Street, that's all you need to know 

Sander: Goodnight Bambi Robin 🦌😏 

Robbe: Shdjskahaggfdsk 🙈🙈 

Sander: Hehe

Sander: 😚 

Robbe: 😊

 The Robin part pulls another involuntary grin out of him again, the jitters in his stomach intensifying, but now they’re more anticipatory than nervous. He checks his hair in his selfie camera, running a hand through it to mess it up a little just when his stop comes. 

The neighborhood is busy with the Friday rush and he has trouble finding white hair in the crowd from where he’s leaning on the lantern. Swaying awkwardly he keeps looking around, feeling his stress levels raising with each second and telling himself to get a fucking grip. 

“Hey, Robin.”

His poor heart just can’t catch a break today. 

Jumping a foot above the ground before swiveling around to smack Sander’s chest, the first thing he sees is his toothy grin, face smug at almost giving Robbe a heart attack.

“Asshole.” His grumble is all for show, the corners of his mouth pulling up when Sander presses a soft hello kiss to his cheek.

“Sorry, didn’t wanna scare you.” He could win awards for least sincere apologies ever, but Robbe would lie to himself if he said he didn’t find his playfulness attractive. Also, he’s still trying to get his heartbeat under control that has less to do with actual scare and more with the warm breath grazing his ear and the fanthom feel of lips on his cheek.

“Sure you didn’t.”

Sander chuckles at his deadpan face that lets him know Robbe knows he’s full of shit. Raising his arms in capitulation, he says another sorry before giving him a not so subtle once over, his features softening.

“You look really pretty.” 

His voice sounds uncharacteristically shy, Robbe notices, and he keeps biting his lip nervously. This sudden shyness looks exceptionally endearing on him.

Eyeing his t-shirt critically, he cocks his brow at Sander, hand scratching his head in a self-conscious move. “Thank you. It’s nothing special though.”

“Then I guess it’s just you,” Sander replies, shrugging matter-of-factly, and keeps giving him that charming smile that weakens Robbe’s knees. 

But he still rolls his eyes on him, snorting as he mutters “smooth” to which Sander pretends to hold his chest dramatically, swearing it’s not a line and that he’s being honest.

“Okay, okay, let’s say I believe you,” Robbe gives in after being defeated with a strong case of puppy eyes. “Now come on, tell me where we’re going.”

The faux-serious expression on Sander’s face melts into a full of promise smirk. “Prepare to be mind blown!”

And then he takes off, firing a wink over his shoulder at Robbe who’s gaping at him, flabbergasted. This mixture of confidence and shyness taking turns emanating from Sander has a peculiar effect on him, making him follow the boy without another question. He’s intrigued, curious to find out what’s underneath this cockiness that Robbe has a feeling is all for show, a cover up, but for what he has no clue. 

They fall into an easy conversation on the way to their destination, interrupted with a string of Robbe’s guesses as to what that destination is and Sander shooting him down everytime, his smile getting fonder with each pout directed at him. So far it’s been way less awkward than Robbe feared, familiar almost, safe, melting away the anxious lump in his stomach. The good-natured teasing reminding Robbe of his relationship with Zoe or Milan, only the furtive yet lingering glances they keep shooting at each other when they think the other is not looking the sign of this being more than just a friendly hangout.

“Any plans for the Eenvoud sequel?” They’re crossing the street when Sander asks the question, tongue in cheek, which makes Robbe scowl in disdain. Even though internally he’s pleased Sander went and looked him up online. He was less pleased with the teasing that ensued a few days ago.

  Sander: I had no idea 

Robbe: ? 

Sander: That I'm going on a date with a star 

Robbe: 😂 what 

Sander: Music star 😏

Sander: Or should I say

Sander: Dance star 🤔 

Robbe: Oh fuck 

Sander: You're v e r y talented Robbe IJzermans 

Robbe: Shut uuuuuup 

Sander: 😂 

Robbe: You weren't supposed to see that 😭 

Sander: Why not? You're so cute in it 😌 

Robbe: 🙈

Robbe: Please don't hold it against me 

Sander: Never :) 

Robbe: You're gonna hold it against me aren’t u 

Sander: A bit :D 

Robbe: 🥺 

Sander: But in a loving way! 

Robbe: Guess I have to now go and find blackmail material on your channel 😌 

Sander: As if you hadn't already 😏 

Omg you're so full of yourself 🙄 

Sander: 😛 

Robbe: Should I be expecting hoards of fans throwing themselves at you when we're out? 

Sander: Haha no

Sander: Maybe a few ;) 

Robbe: Great, now I'm even more nervous :( 

Sander: Why are you nervous? 🥺

Sander: Are you nervous about our date?  

Robbe: Well um 

Robbe: A bit? 

Sander: I'm nervous too

Sander: But that's because I wanted to go out with you since I saw you on campus the first day

Robbe: I wanted that too

Sander: Oh 😌

Robbe: Yeah :)

 “Fuck off,” he barks out a laugh, shoving him without much force once they’re back on the sidewalk. Sander pretends to be offended with the attack, huffing and shaking his head, but then bumps him with his hip all the same, smug when Robbe splutters in indignance in turn.

“Keep this up and I’m gonna rethink my forgiveness.” Robbe’s tone is lofty, even if his eyes scream he’s just teasing, an attempt to rile Sander up. 

The boy’s eyes widen comically, hand flying to his chest. “You wouldn’t do that to me, Robin.” 

There’s that nickname again, making his breath catch again, and the only response he can manage now is a flirty smile, or at least something that is supposed to look like it. 

The afternoon heat subsides on their way to Sander’s mysterious place, but Robbe’s still glad he left that green long-sleeved shirt at home when they slow down and Sander turns to him with an expectant look.

“Carnival?”

“I didn’t remember you giving me your number, but I did remember your preaching about cotton candy being the superior junk food,” Sander rushes with an explanation like he feels his choice needs a proper justification. “And it just so happened that a carnival came to Antwerp this weekend. I thought it was a sign?” He scratches his nose, his stance a little unsure as he awaits Robbe’s reaction.

His eyes grow bigger with each passing second until Robbe beams at him and tells him how much he likes the idea. Sander lets out a loud phew, face relieved when they enter the area. The place is packed, but that’s okay because Robbe loves the vibe and how close Sander keeps walking next to him because of it. The loud music is not the best for talking, but they soon find other things to do, marching from booth to booth, getting drinks and trying out silly games, the teasing competitiveness quickly coming out. Sander really wants to win a plushie for him, but he fails spectacularly, his sulking remedied only by a kiss on his cheek. 

Robbe eats his weight in cotton candy, childlike joy on his face while Sander watches amused and keeps calling him cute. The Ferris Wheel was supposed to be their next stop, but when it turns out it's out of service, Sander shoots him a desperate look, apologizing for this lame outcome like it's his fault. But Robbe is having so much fun he barely cares they lost their chance at a kiss on the top, knows the night's still young and they'll get their chance somewhere else.

They try out a few other things, laughing and having a great time together before Sander gets weirdly quiet.

"Do you, um, do you think we can go sit down for a bit? To talk?" Sander keeps avoiding his eyes as he asks, but Robbe doesn't miss the flicker of vulnerability in his face, and he feels his heart jump in his chest. He's a bit taken aback at this gear change, but Sander's clearly bothered with something and he wants to be there for him so he just hums and follows him to the bench outside.

"There's something you need to know."

Robbe steals himself for the worst, muscles tensing as he holds his breath.

“I’m bipolar,” Sander finally blurts out, and Robbe’s heart breaks for the insecurity in his eyes, eyes that are now darting all over his own face, trying to be furtive, yet clearly assessing his reaction. “I just-, I want to be straight with you from the get go cause I feel like this may be going somewhere and I don’t want to lie, or, omit anything.” He pauses, frowning a little as he looks down, and something awfully similar to a broken heart shadows his features. “I don’t ever want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Robbe doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, but Sander misinterprets the silence.

“It’s, um, it’s okay if you don’t wanna get involved with me now or something, I get it, I’m a lot to handle.” Scratching his head awkwardly, his lips morph into a wistful smile, and Robbe knows he needs to put a stop to these thoughts.

“Hey,” he starts softly, waiting until Sander’s ready to direct his eyes back on him. When he does, he shoots a smile at him of his own, but there’s nothing wistful about it. If it matches what he feels, Robbe’s quite sure it’s close to adoration, actually. “Thank you for telling me.” Sander takes a deep breath, sitting straight as if he’s preparing for a rejection. “My mom has schizophrenia, you know?”

Green eyes blink up at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Robbe lets his smile widen. “And she’s an amazing mom. She just-, struggles sometimes, and there are days that are really shit days. But I can’t imagine her not being here. Because she’s amazing. And I love her. With or without a mental illness.” He presses his thigh against Sander’s, trying to ease his nervousness as he continues. “I still want to give us a shot. Cause, um, I think that, um, well, you’re really hot, I mean cool, I meant cool, well...” Why does he have to be so awkward? He peaks at Sander after his unfortunate little slip and feels his cheeks flush under his small grin. 

“You think I’m hot?”

Robbe whines in protest because now Sander’s just being a little shit, torturing him even though he knows exactly what his stammering means. 

He hides his face in his hands. “Obviously, since I’m on a date with you, smartass.” 

“It’s always nice to hear.” Sander nudges their shoulders and it makes Robbe look up, just in time for a wink. “Especially from a cutie like you.” He holds his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips, and as Robbe gets drowned in his green eyes, distracted, Sander lifts his hand to push a few locks away from his forehead. The brief contact of his fingertips with Robbe’s skin is enough to raise goosebumps on his skin, and he really hopes Sander didn’t notice, that he doesn’t know how gone he is for him already.

He already mourns the lack of contact when Sander pulls away, something akin to shyness on his face now as he’s fiddling with his fingers, and it’s comforting to see he’s not the only one around here being affected.

It’s what gives him the guts to do what he does next, without second-guessing himself again into a spiral. He gets up off the bench and takes Sander’s hand in his own, their fingers tangling right away like it’s their second nature, and nods in the direction of the sidewalk.

“Come on, I’ll show you my favorite spot around here.”

The initial surprise at Robbe’s bold move is quickly replaced with a beaming smile as Sander squeezes his hand gently and gets up too, laughing when Robbe bumps their shoulders teasingly because hey, he’s still a teenage boy and sometimes likes to act like it. Also, he needs to do something to distract himself from the fact that he’s holding Sander’s hand. The fact he can feel a thumb softly grazing his knuckles, almost absent-mindedly, does not help. He'd think their playfulness and cheek kisses would make it all easier for him, and yet here he is.

He’s feeling carefree and drunk on his feelings and this evening and Sander’s smile and when they get close to the spot, Robbe sets his hand free and jogs over to the small ice cream booth, turning around to do a small “taa-daa!” with a big grin. Sander’s laugh at his shenanigans is music to his ears and he loves how the previous frown is now officially gone from his face, features softening instead, eyes twinkling as he calls Robbe a dork, entwining their hands anew the second he’s in his close proximity. Robbe scoots even closer, like an invisible magnet is pulling them together, getting lost in his presence, the smell of his aftershave that carries notes of citrus and something woodsy, masculine, combined with the intoxicating scent of Sander’s leather jacket. The air changes around them, gets charged with tension, Sander’s face changes too, green eyes darting to Robbe’s lips that get dry under attention, and he licks them subconsciously. Just when Tiana Major9’s voice coming from the booth speaker sings when they collide, it’s a beautiful disaster, their faces tilt towards each other, Sander’s hand reaching up as if to cup Robbe’s cheek.

Robbe barely contains his whine when a loud crash from the booth ruins the moment, catching the same frustration on Sander’s face in the corner of his eye. The loaded silence is buzzing in his ears, nerves picking up and he feels awkward again, not sure whether he should just go for it or wait for a better moment. 

Sander’s chuckle brings him back from his overthinking, smiles crookedly down at him. “Come on, you gotta tell me your favorite flavor.”

His tone is light like the almost-kiss didn’t happen, but the subtle pink at the high of his cheeks gives him away. It looks like the world’s most exquisite blush, blended perfectly with the shade of his skin that has already been painted light golden with the early summer sun rays. It distracts him for a moment, his gaze stuck as his eyes wander slowly from one mole to another, lingering on his lips that are just as inviting as they were a few seconds ago, tempting Robbe to make that move, but then he feels Sander taking his hand again, this time interlacing their fingers and pulling him out of his trance.

Robbe is a vanilla guy and he can see the joke at the hip of Sander’s tongue, but thankfully, the boy refrains from the comment, the huge eyeroll he receives probably stopping him in his tracks, and he only gnaws on his lip, trying to keep the laughter in. He goes for mango, which yuck. Sander doesn’t appreciate his reaction, and they easily slip in the previous banter, ending with him smearing a bit of the ice cream on Robbe’s cheek, lips sucked in as he giggles quietly at his scandalized face.

“You’re such a fucker!” He immediately gets him back for that and they’re close to full on ice cream fight until Sander yells truce, hands protecting his face from the onslaught of Robbe’s sticky hands. Robbe smiles triumphantly at his capitulation, and goes back to licking away at what’s left of his treat.

“It kinda fits you.”

They’ve been strolling along the river for a while now, the full moon shining its light on the side of Sander’s face, making his hair look icy white.

“What?

“The mango flavor.”

Sander furrows his brows in question, waiting for an explanation. Robbe shrugs a little, eyes tracing the soft ripples on the water as he tries to find the right words.

“Mangos have a hard peel, but have a soft inside.”

“Sooo, you’re saying I’m… mushy?” Sander wrinkles his nose at his words and it’s a truly adorable sight.

“No, I’m saying you can seem, um, intimidating and unapproachable, unattainable.” His eyebrows furrow more with each adjective. “But once you get to the inside, so once someone gets to know you, you’re none of these things,” Robbe pauses, swaying their joined hands a little as he peeks at Sander’s face. “You’re nice and sweet and stuff. Even with your edgy black and white aesthetics,” he adds as the second-thought, grinning when he gets a deadpan look in return. It quickly morphs into something softer, beautifully confirming Robbe’s words.

“Okay, let’s say I’m a mango man. In that case, you’re a cutie pie,” Sander says matter-of-factly, always needing to have the last word, and Robbe can only laugh helplessly, trying not to combust under his intense glance. “Also, my black and white aesthetics are amazing, by the way.”

Robbe doesn't dare to argue with that, and he also agrees with the statement so he admits as much, making Sander very pleased. 

They walk way into late hours of the evening, huddling closer together with each passing hour in search of warmth against the coldness of the night, or at least that serves as the main excuse. Sander has him bursting in fits of giggles sharing crazy stories from his shopping assistant job and Robbe finds himself opening up about his videotaping passion, a little shy when knowing about Sander's photography skills, but the boy's eyes shine bright when Robbe mentions it, and he's so attentive and interested in everything he has to say on the topic, of the small details he geeks out about that it makes fuzzy feelings swim rampant in his stomach; it's the kind of attention he's been unknowingly yearning for, and here it is, served on a golden plate and in a package so beautiful it makes him swoon.

And he also walks him home, acting all gentlemanly and offering his jacket when the shivers shake Robbe's body a bit. What a catch.

“So, um,” Sander starts as they reach the front door of Robbe’s apartment building, his face mostly covered in shadows cast by the street lanterns. “Kiss or slap?”

The answer to the question is obvious for both of them, but Robbe can’t stop himself from teasing him a bit, scrunching up his face in a deep thought, eyebrows frowned, making Sander scoff impatiently, which is exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

Still, he needs to push him a bit more. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I should probably go with the slap for that ice cream incident.” Sander plays along, heaving a regretful sigh, before turning those pretty eyes on him, lips in a pout and hands put together in a praying motion.

“A kiss?” Bottom lip juts out and he’s just too cute for words, Robbe dropping his facade immediately, not stopping his beaming smile anymore.

He also can't fucking wait any longer.

“Okay, I gue-”

Soft lips crash into his, not letting him finish the sentence, Robbe’s clumsiness almost making him topple over, but Sander’s there to catch him, sure hands squeezing his hips and sending small shocks through his body. He rests his hand on the back of Sander’s neck, giving in to the need to bury his fingers in that messy blond hair, and he tugs, just a little, but it’s enough for Sander to sigh into his mouth and pull him closer. Robbe loves the reaction, whimpers quietly as he parts his lips just right for Sander’s tongue to slip inside, to tease at the soft skin inside of Robbe’s bottom lip. It’s all over after that, the kiss morphing from something soft and sweet to tongues sliding together, teeth clinking almost painfully in their desperation, the kiss tasting of mango ice cream and cotton candy, and it’s the best Robbe has ever tasted.

It’s better than he imagined, Sander’s hands caressing his sides as he slows down the kiss so sweet and tender, it pulls at every single one of his heartstrings. He can’t believe he has this wonder of a boy in his arms, kissing him so good, making him dizzy.

The kiss stops eventually, but they stay put, as close as before, the tips of their noses grazing against each other, warm breaths and fluttering lashes, fingernails scratching at the skin that’s covered in goosebumps.

“I have to go,” Robbe murmurs between the miniscule space between them, giggling quietly at the immediate frown his words cause.

“Nooooo.” Sander hides his face in his flushed neck, pressing a kiss there too because why not. “I need more kisses.”

And who is Robbe to tell him no, he goes willingly when Sander lifts his chin up for another one, his mouth a little puffy now. He lets him have it, not that it’s any hardship; he’d stay here all night, just lazily sliding their lips together in a never ending dance.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Sander asks when they break apart. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You know, he’s very important to me, has been in my life for years so his opinion kinda matters a lot.”

His words take Robbe aback, but he tries not to show his discomfort, even though Sander must have felt how tense his body went. He doesn’t seem to find it weird, his face still smiling as he keeps talking about this he that’s apparently so important.

“I hope he’ll like you. He’s perfect, you know?” Actually, Robbe does not know and he’s getting kinda annoyed. He’s pretty sure waxing lyrical about someone else on a date is a faux pas. “I mean, except for leaving fur on anything he touches.”

What.

Robbe’s eyes swivel up to look at him, the corners of Sander’s lips twitching and his face a picture perfect of impishness. He groans in protest, smacking his chest because Sander did it on purpose to pull a reaction out of him and it’s not fair, damn it. He crosses his arms which proves difficult to do when there are still hands firmly holding his hips, keeping him close.

Sander rests their forehead together, swaying them a little to put a smile on Robbe’s grumpy face. “He’s a Norwegian Forest breed and his name is Major Tom.”

And this time it’s Robbe who has a hard time to keep his giggle in because oh my god, what a nerd.

“I wonder where that came from,” he ponders in a voice as serious as he can manage, but Sander sees right through him, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“It’s the bestest name ever, I’ll have you know.”

He gets shut up with another kiss, last one, the sweetest out of all of them. Then, Robbe steps out of his embrace, not trusting himself to end this when Sander's hands are touching any part of his body, and tells him a quiet goodnight, backing into the front door with Sander's soft sleep well ringing in his ears and a huge smile threatening to spread on his face.

Sander: May your dreams be filled with cotton candy 🍬🍭

It only takes a minute for his phone to ping.

And maybe some mangos too 🥭

Robbe: Just need one 😘

White-haired mangos 😘

Goodnight ❤️

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 16 - An Absolution

Masterlist; Chapter 15

Summary: You and Neil go on your little night out in Oslo after the Freeport mission. As the night unfolds, you get closer than ever.

Warnings: 18+ (stuff happens you know); swearing.

Author’s Notes: Okay so I’m terrified but I had to give you this one already because I’m proud done before the schedule deadline. I loved writing some parts so hope you will enjoy! Feedback is a life-saver so please leave me some? Anyways, enjoy! (and I go hide or sth)

The moment you opened your eyes, you knew that it was going to be a tough day. That ever so helpful, sabotaging voice was back. And it was pissed off at you for being reckless, stupid, and naïve, among other things. In short, you had regrets about everything that happened. Once again, it all boiled down to your deeply ingrained fear of losing people important to you. Because now that Neil undoubtedly noticed how responsive you were to everything he did, there was no pretending that you were not interested. Another step was admitting the feelings you had. And the next one after that was him leaving you for someone better, right? Well, your brain was sure about that.

You groaned and contemplated staying in bed for the rest of the day, avoiding everyone and everything when your phone rang. Interesting. You sat up and picked it up, frowning at the name on the screen. The only person who you both did not want to speak to and also missed already. Sighing, you pressed the green button:

“Morning” Neil sounded like he just woke up as well.

“Hi” you mumbled, anxiously picking on the skin around your fingernails “We’ve never done this before… morning phone calls, I mean,” you noticed.

“I know, but I wanted to check if you’re alright… after everything” tense and nervous Neil was still new to you.

“Yeah, is all fine” you hated lying, but then maybe this time truth would not do you any good.

But, of course, he caught it.

“Pardon me, but I’m not convinced”

You fell back onto the pillows. Caught in the act.

“Okay, you got me” admitting felt like another lost battle.

“I know you a bit better than you’re giving me credit for” he got that right, for sure “So? You know I won’t let it go until you tell me”

Damn him and that selfless heart. You took a deep breath:

“I was thinking... maybe it’s best we don’t mention what happened ever again” you finished the sentence and desperately wished you had this conversation face to face.

He took a little longer to respond, only fueling those wishes.

“Why?” the confusion was almost as bad as the regrets spilling from your heart.

Almost.

“I don’t know,” you sighed heavily, feeling worse with every sentence “Suppose I’m worried it will fuck everything up, and I don’t want that. I want this… us… to work somehow”

That was not exactly what you wanted to say. Another failure.

“If that’s what you want, then sure” you could tell that he only agreed to placate you.

And maybe because he too was surprised by your unexpected admission.

“I just want you to know that for me, it wasn’t a mistake. I did what I wanted to do” he added, making your heart stumble wildly as it always did.

Brilliant.

“Okay... but for the sake of keeping tonight less awkward... let’s not mention it. Please?”

“Your wish is my command” despite yourself, you smiled at that comment, “I’ll pick you up around 6?”

“Sounds good” you glanced at the bedside clock; still ages left for you to panic “Thank you, Neil. You’re too good for me” 

“Well, there’s reasons for that so…” it was that nervous half-smile, you could bet on it “Just don’t stand me up tonight”

The ridiculous idea made you laugh, feeling some tension ease.

“Could never”

*** You managed to get as far as getting up, dressing up, and having instant coffee from the little complimentary set in the hotel room, before you heard a knock on the door. Intrigued, you opened it to reveal Mahir stood on the doorstep, with two coffee cups in hands. A blessing.

“Thought we could have a little chat since I’m leaving later” he explained when you let him in.

“Sounds good. And thank you for that coffee, the shit here isn’t drinkable” to prove the point, you flushed the remains of the brown liquid down the bathroom sink.

“Cheers, my treat” jokingly, you raised a toast with the paper cups and settled onto the armchairs “So, what’s your plan?” he asked after a short comfortable silence.

“I’ll be going back to London tomorrow afternoon. And after that, we’ll see” you shrugged “Hopefully I’ll get some heads up about the upcoming events”

You mentioned the texts from TP to Mahir to explain how you were in the possession of the plans and blueprints in advance of the actual news. He took it without any further questions for which you were grateful.

“What you did last night at the airport…” he met your gaze seriously, and you frowned “That was incredibly brave but also hellishly stupid” his sheepish grin made you laugh.

“Oh, I know. I just thought it had to work out somehow… and if not…” you shrugged, hoping he will understand all that you are not saying.

It was enough that you thought about it. For a split second then, and for hours over the night. That same question: what if you jumped too late? For some reason, an image of those concerned blue eyes was tied to it.

“It’s good to be a little reckless in this business. Just try to stay alive though” Mahir reached out to tap you on the shoulder “I quite like you. And I know that there are people who would suffer if anything happened to you” you did not like the knowing look in his eyes.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best”

Then you steered onto more casual topics concerning your past and experience. He was especially curious about how you got to have such a good eye for guns. Later, you expected he was trying to distract you before he was about to drop the real question of the conversation. You were finishing the lukewarm coffee when he asked:

“So… you and Neil?” the casual tone made you choke on the last drop.

You coughed frantically for a whole minute, with Mahir watching, amused. When you could breathe again, you managed to choke out:

“Whatever do you mean?” you placed the cup back on the table and pretended to be perplexed.

It was not working.

“Oh, come on. You might be a spy, but you’re a shit liar. And all that I’ve seen these few days have been rather obvious” he was enjoying your startled expression “Don’t give me that deer stuck in the headlights stare, hun” at the nickname, you nearly choked on your own saliva.

Again.

“Hun?” everything was better than answering the question.

“You’re missing the point” Mahir leaned back, watching you coolly.

You have lost.

“What gave it away?”

“Let me think…” he tapped his temple “Those longing looks? The bloody dancing when you both looked like the happiest people alive? Or last night, when I’m pretty sure something happened in that bathroom” he narrowed his eyes, studying you intensely.

Without a single doubt, the crimson shade on your cheeks was the answer he was looking for.

“You’re perceptive,” you noticed, staring at the carpet.

“It pays to be in our profession,” Mahir noticed your increasing discomfort, and he added, „Don’t worry, I won’t snitch on you to TP”

“How gracious” you raised your head then and gave him a weary smile.

“Have fun tonight. And stay safe,” he winked, making you speechless again.

“Why do I feel like you’re insinuating something there…” you arched one eyebrow, feigning indifference.

“It’s quite easy to piece together. You’re both staying in Oslo for one more free night… and the rest is-”

“Silence. I know,” you cut him off sharply and glared.

Mahir only laughed in response.

*** It turned out that settling on an outfit for the ‘not-quite date’ was a difficult task. It took you embarrassingly long, and you only decided because it was already a little late. A simple buttoned shirt and skirt had to do. It was a question of an eternal internal battle between: ‘it’s just Neil; who cares’ and ‘it’s Neil; it matters a lot’. The final choice, therefore, was as close to balance between those two states as you could manage. You nearly tripped on the stairs down to the lobby when you spotted him. He was casually waiting, with his back against the wall, dressed in the usual suit trousers and a striped shirt. The new addition was a dark grey coat instead of a suit jacket. And that damned green scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. The whole outfit was so Neil that your heart stumbled upon the sight. When he looked up and met your wandering gaze, he smiled, somewhat nervously. So, it was not just you…

“Evening,” he tipped his head in a greeting when you joined him.

“Hey,” you eyed him again, “Shall we…?”

“After you, miss,” he extended his hand chivalrously, and you rolled your eyes.

He surprised you by offering his arm once you stepped outside. After a small moment of hesitation, you took it, letting yourself snuggle closer to him. You quite liked the coat already.

“How was your day?” he was the one to break the silence.

“Boring, to be honest,” you frowned “Just chatted with Mahir for a little bit and then explored the centre. You?” looking up at him, you took a moment to admire his profile.

Rather pathetic.

“Talked to TP for a while. He’s more open with me now, and I got to admit it makes everything easier” you appreciated the honesty “And then went out to get us a place for tonight” he added, smiling at your brightly.

“What did you tell TP?” you asked, curiosity not letting you let go.

“That I’m about to have some fun in town” Neil shrugged.

He was leading you with a purpose and yet matching the long strides to yours, so you did not have to rush. It was thoughtfulness like this that made it hard not to fall for him.

“Fun?” you raised one eyebrow, intrigued by his choice of words.

“You’re that no matter what we do” his grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the temple quickly.

It took that additional brain cell not to walk into the next person on your path.

“So… you’re about to have me?” you were not sure where that thought came from.

But seeing the way his eyes widened for a split second was definitely worth it.

“I really did not think through that sentence, did I?” he shook his head slightly, making you laugh at the cute image “Though I won’t complain if I end up having you” he added and met your gaze purposefully.

Oh, right. You did expect that, without a doubt. And yet, his openness took you by surprise.

“Smooth save there”

Neil only smiled and inhaled a large haul of the chilly air. His cheeks and tips of the ears were slightly reddened, making for an incredibly adorable sight. You observed him for a second longer before turning to check where you were heading. It looked like he went for a place near the harbour where most places were bustling with activity. Somehow you knew that he would choose well and somewhere that would allow you to talk a little more. You would be lying if you did not admit that you went over some questions concerning his past that you wanted to ask. Because if not when you nearly gave him everything, then when?

Distracting the thoughts, you gave him a once-over and noticed:

“Look at you, all dressed up to the nines. You even smoothed your hair I’m shocked” you smiled when he looked at you.

The happy sparks in his eyes were good enough to excuse anything.

“Well, I decided that you can be the one to ruffle it however you want” to test his statement, you gently brushed one stray lock from his forehead “As for the rest... I had to somehow remind you what you can have” he adjusted the scarf, making you see the dark mark on the side of his neck.

There we go. You swallowed hard, blocking the flood of images and feelings. When you were undressing for a shower before going out, you noticed what he did to you. All those bruises marking the space between your neck and shoulder. Conveniently enough to be hidden by clothes, and yet there to haunt you whenever you looked in the mirror. You had a feeling that was intentional.

“Then it is this kind of a night...” you mused aloud.

In response, Neil made sure to slide down the arm he offered you and intertwine your fingers. It seemed like you could not be walking any closer to each other without putting on straight-up PDA.

“That will depend on us. However, after yesterday... I wouldn’t be surprised” he looked down at you with a smirk and playfulness in his eyes.

Even though you expected him to mention it, despite your pleas, it felt like a light punch in the gut. That is if a punch could make one slightly aroused.

“Thought we agreed not to talk about it” you ignored the feeling, chiding him.

That was about to bite you in the ass, so to speak.

“And we’re not. Unless we went onto the topic of our dreams from last night or something”

It was a mistake to meet his gaze then. With slightly darkened pupils, a self-satisfied smile, and clenched jaw, you knew that he was not joking. You blushed, suddenly relieved that you forgot any dreams you might have had.

“Neil...” you aimed for a warning, but it came out rather like a weak protest.

“Yes, darling?” the innocent expression was back to haunt you.

“Do you want that slap I promised earlier?”

He stopped, and you were forced to stare up at him with the sternest glare you could manage. Neil bit his lip, undoubtedly preparing to drop a bombshell like no other. You braced yourself, tightening the grip on his hand.

“Maybe save it for later. I quite like a little bit of spice like that when it comes to the real deal” the combination of the sly grin and predatory look in his eyes perfected the delivery.

And then he pointed at the building you stopped in front of as though nothing happened.

“This is it” he announced and turned to you.

From the way he looked at you, you knew that the expression on your face must have been quite a sight. You blinked once, shaking off the thoughts and ideas. Not the time.

“Brilliant” smiling dryly, you let him lead you through the door.

You stopped at the concierge desk and let Neil do the talking.

“How can I help you, sir?” the smiley clerk eyed you both quickly.

You did wonder what she saw.

“I’ve got a reservation under James Farrow” your eyes widened at the identity he used.

It was as though the New York mission was important to him if he was keen enough to reference it like that. Now that was an intriguing thought.

“Mr. Farrow and wife, yes?” the lady looked up, happily and expectantly.

It felt as though the ground has moved under your feet, and you were about to fall if it was not for the steady hand gripping yours. Wife?! He was surely getting slapped for that.

“Yes,” Neil completely ignored your wild gaze.

Only once you have been sat at the table in the corner of the cosy yet posh establishment you could give voice to the mess of thoughts in your head:

“Seriously?” that was all you could manage, but he understood.

And, in response, smiled as though it was nothing. Like you should have expected it. You wondered if he is ever going to stop surprising you.

“It was easier that way” he dragged a hand through his hair, shrugging “And, I mean... would it be so bad to be my wife?” the way his eyes sparkled hopefully was enough to give you heart palpitations.

“Allow me not to answer this yet” you gave him a stern look and softened it with a smirk.

It was too easy to be with him like this.

“I’ll wait patiently then. Now, what would my lovely wife want to drink?” he opened the wine menu with a flourish.

And then was forced to order something for the table as you were too busy dying of laughter for the next ten minutes. You calmed down enough to comment on his food choice for the evening – Norwegian mountain trout with fennel cream, petit pois, and hollandaise sauce.

“Are you always this… posh?” you scrunched up your nose, observing him intently.

He grinned at the sight and raised his hands in defence.

“I wouldn’t say I’m posh… More like a man of refined taste,” you watched as he undid another button on his shirt, “Which anyone can see once they look at you” the punchline came with the addition of a hand covering yours on the table.

You blushed and met his soft gaze, using the opportunity to show him how comments like that made you feel. You could tell that the sudden outpouring of affection he saw in your eyes was a shock because his hold on your hand tightened, and his cheeks turned crimson, just slightly. You would have missed it; have you not been staring at him shamelessly. Neil composed himself after a short moment and asked:

“So… what do you want to talk about?” he kept on gently running his thumb over your knuckles.

Might as well keep up the married couple act.

This is how you started the conversation regarding your childhoods, families, and what you were like growing up. You did not expect to learn that Neil grew up in a most normal middle-class house in Richmond Park, but then again, you did not know what else you would consider believable. Growing up, his main source of joy were books and Labrador Retriever named Charlie (“Charlie? That’s a bit too boring, even for you” “What would you prefer? Theodore or Archibald?”). You could both relate to the pains of a boring childhood, filled with dreams of doing something crucial for the world but then not knowing what that could be. Only, where Neil decided to study Physics (despite the wishes of his mundane parents who would rather he did something more palpable like architecture or law; you snickered at that), you went for a more abstract route of international relations and civil safety. Another revelation was the fact that despite your assumptions he was never the popular kid or a leader of any sort as he was much more comfortable in the background of things. Always thinking, listening, analysing but taking his time to voice any opinions and solutions he came to. You realized that this was perhaps the reason why he understood you so well. Overall, the conversation was both enlightening and reassuring, and, by the end of it, you felt like somehow you loved him even more. Or maybe that was due to the bottle of wine you had.

*** Once you were done with dinner, Neil suggested moving to a nearby bar for drinks. It was more than tempting, and so, not long after, you found yourself sat on the bar stools, each with a drink, deep in conversation. As the night progressed, you got more open, either drifting onto the flirty territory or breaching candid topics you would otherwise never consider.

You did not know when exactly you sat that close to each other without looking too cosy. Or when his hand landed on your knee, just under the hem of your knee socks, and why it somehow felt good. The more time passed, you only got more certain that this was, in fact, a date. And you were surprisingly fine with it. Using the natural break in your conversation, you took a longer sip of the drink and asked:

“So, is this how it usually goes?” you met his gaze with disinterest “Invite them for a drink, let your hands wander a little…” you glanced at his hand, just when he purposefully moved it upwards onto your bare thigh below the skirt’s edge.

Bloody hell. You were not sure that lightheaded feeling could be all blamed on the alcohol. Swallowing, you continued the assumption. If anything, the intense look in those blue eyes was encouraging.

“And then back to the hotel room for more?” you bit your lip and swirled the straw in vodka coke.

The warm touch felt rather nice. You glanced around, wondering if such behaviour would not be deemed ‘indecent’. But all you saw was a knowing smirk from the man sat at the nearby table. Right… Neil’s voice and his thumb running over your skin in a soothing motion brought you back to the present moment.

“It’s been a while since anything like that happened,” he noticed, looking at you thoughtfully.

You wanted to trust him on that, but…

“I don’t believe you,” you stared at him, using the opportunity to admire.

With the slightly dimmed lights, his features stood out more. All the sharp angles in his face made him resemble a classical sculpture. The hair almost looked golden. Nothing but beauty. You could tell that others noticed that too, curiously watching you both from time to time. You had no illusions that it was you they were drawn to. And yet, he was staring at you as though you were the most important person in his universe. It was one of those feelings that always took your breath away. Distractedly, you brushed your hand over his hair again, using the privileges he gave you. Tugging on one strand, you enjoyed the passing darkness in his eyes. That hair thing he clearly had going ought to be explored later, you mused.

“Why? Because I’m so irresistible?” he smirked smugly and straightened his back.

Despite the annoyance, you grinned. The charm was undoubtedly working. As always.

“Because I see the way almost everyone looks at you. Like they wanted to stake their claim right here and now” you looked around pointedly, drawing his attention to the small audience.

Catching the eye of one nosey woman, who was clearly eavesdropping on your conversation, you winked. You saw her ogle Neil earlier, and it was more than annoying. Surely, a little jealousy never hurt anyone.

“Are you speaking from experience there?” the grin got wider as he took in your irked expression „Think you’re forgetting the other important factor, which is my own desire for anything like that” he arched one eyebrow and picked up the drink.

“And there’s been none recently?”

That was a risky question, and yet one that you had to ask. Especially remembering the way he was looking at you the previous night. Was it what you hoped it was…?

“You were there last night, so you know best...” he dropped his voice to add, “But I’m still working on getting anywhere with that” to prove a point, he slid his hand higher up your thigh.

You shivered in response, earning a little raspy laugh from him. To put things simply, you were slowly feeling the effects of his actions and words. And it was rather bothering.

“Is it worth it?” shaking off the moment, you reached for more alcohol.

“Absolutely” with his free hand, Neil tucked the hair behind your ear, brushing your cheek gently.

Sometimes you marvelled at how he could be so gentle and yet so seductive at the same time. It was like that during your little bathroom incident, as you came to call it. And that made you wonder whether he would be like that with you if you went even further? Neil eyed you curiously as you realized you were staring. Again.

“Any good thoughts there?” he tapped your temple with a pointer finger.

You blushed a deep crimson. Ever so observant. The way his eyes lit up knowingly made you think he could even read your mind at this point.

“Ah, I see,” he grinned smugly “Well, if you ever want to share... I’m here”

You just stared, unable to express anything you felt. His hand rested on your midthigh with fingers absentmindedly stroking the skin. The look in his eyes made your mind wander. Feeling overwhelmed with Neil, you looked for help in the wood pores on the bar counter. But he wanted to lead that strange conversation to its end. One that he must have intended.

“Usually, I’d start with a date. Maybe some touching here and there to let them know I’m interested” you could feel his analytical gaze “I’m not a brute. First, I’d seduce you before I could have you” the invasive hand retraced back to your knee.

Later, you wondered whether it was the alcohol, his touch, or something else entirely that made you blurt out the truth that he was not supposed to know. Yet or ever.

“You already do”

Realising what you just said, you snapped your head up, meeting Neil’s perplexed gaze. He was not expecting that. Neither were you.

“What?” his jaw fell slack, making for a sight that would be adorable if not for your panic.

“What?” parroting him you hid your face in your hands.

He took a long pause, composing himself because the next time he spoke, the confusion was gone.

“Interesting”

“I can’t blame that on the drink, can I?” you took a deep breath and looked at him again.

The darkness and dawning realization in his blue eyes took you by surprise.

“I’d rather you didn’t” that was the serious Neil you did not know too well.

You watched as he finished the drink, his second one, in one go and faced you again. Your unexpected confession was hanging over you, threatening with awkwardness. But, perhaps most remarkably of all, you were saved by the music streaming from the overhead speaker. At first, you did not catch it, the gentle melody escaping your panicking mind. Neil, though, naturally recognized it. His eyes lit up, and he started humming, all the while looking at you pointedly. Before you knew, he began singing:

‘She's taken my heart

But she doesn't know what she's done’

The determined gaze and his beautiful voice made your heart stumble. Fucking hell. Who knew that of all things, Neil pretending to be Patrick Swayze was going to be the one to finally break you? He was, indeed, relentless.

‘Just a fool to believe I have anything she needs She's like the wind’

He got louder near the end of the chorus, causing many heads to turn in your direction. You watched in horror as he opened his mouth to pick up the next stanza. Using the only power you knew you had, you closed the gap and covered his lips with yours in a small kiss. The surprised sound he made assured you that was the right decision. You let him kiss you back gently and then leaned back, taking in his dazed expression.

“What was that for?” he licked his lips unconsciously, and you blushed despite yourself.

“Just wanted you to shut up and stop embarrassing me” you shrugged, ignoring the fact that even more people were looking at you now.

“Fair enough,” he grinned, taking one of your hands in his.

You wondered when did hand holding become such an essential thing between you. Suddenly you wanted nothing but to be with him alone somewhere. Without the intrigued audience, judging your every move and looking at Neil as though he was the most spectacular sight they ever saw.

“Anyways... should we get going? It’s late, and…” you gestured vaguely, hoping he will give in.

But it seemed like he was on top of his game.

“Is that your way of getting me to come back with you? Because, honestly, you just have to ask, and I’ll do anything” he raised your hand, kissing it in the gentlemanly fashion.

Only you were pretty sure gentlemen did not look at you like that normally. Slowly showing you with gaze alone what going back together meant. You shuddered.

“I’ll note that for future reference. Now come on” you stood up, taking a moment to get used to the effects of those two drinks.

“You’re quite eager,” he noticed but stood up anyway, straightening the long legs that always caught your attention.

“Have you seen yourself?” you retorted, eyes roaming over his body and stopping on his face.

“Blimey... never thought I’d see the day” Neil smirked, but you knew that he was surprised by the honesty “Last night I must’ve hit all the right spots for you” he tried to mask it by distracting you with the best weapon.

But even his hand suddenly wrapping around your waist was not enough to stop the response you prepared for this very moment.

“You definitely did...try” you shot back, taking pleasure in the affronted expression “Shall we? Maybe tonight you’ll do better” tugging on your joined hands, you took a step towards the exit.

The challenging grin was a good enough indicator of his thoughts on the matter.

*** You were not sure how he managed to convince you to come back to his hotel. Somehow, at that moment, with the maelstrom of feelings and emotions in your head, it did not matter that TP was right next door. Or that going back together was a clear signal concerning the ending of the date, something you did not know you were ready for. But once Neil opened his hotel room door and led you inside, nothing much mattered anymore. You had what you wanted: him yours alone without any spectators.

You laughed when he started taking off your coat as a doorman does in all those period dramas:

“Maybe it’s time to drop that gentlemanly act?” you suggested when he succeeded and went to hang both of your coats on the hooks.

“Why?” Neil came back still wearing that scarf that you could not get out of your head “Would you rather I jumped you the moment we came in?”

Following the instincts, you closed the gap to him and started unwrapping the green material from around his neck, all the while making sure you maintained eye contact. He swallowed hard at your proximity. Good sign.

“I don’t know… But I do hope you’ve got a plan” once you have taken off his scarf, you threw it to the side “Now that you’ve lured me in here” searching his eyes, you placed your hand on his shoulder, caressing the newly exposed neck.

Neil’s eyes darkened, and pupils dilated. He placed both of his hands on your waist and leaned in to whisper:

“I was hoping this will happen, so of course… I’ve got some ideas” his lips brushed over your throat.

You could not tell what was stronger, the alcohol intoxication or overwhelming infatuation that you felt.

“Feel free to show me what you’ve got in mind” getting to the end of that sentence was a challenge.

Especially with the fact that Neil started kissing your neck and throat, slowly guiding you with his hands on your hips. Before you knew, the backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed, and he pushed you onto the mattress. He took a moment to take in the image before slowly lowering himself down to hover over you, leaning on his forearms, pinning you down. His nose brushed against yours, breaths mingling as you inhaled, calming down your racing heart. Despite being this close to him many times before, this one felt different. Maybe because you knew where it is likely to lead you…

“For starters, I’d really like to kiss you right now” Neil broke the silence and leaned in.

As much as it was tempting, you didn’t want to give in just yet. The confidence you found during the course of the night was a welcomed help in moments like this. You turned your head sideways, making him kiss you on the cheek. The little offended sound he made woke up the butterflies in your stomach.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit forward? For a first date?” you grinned upon his slightly confused expression.

Letting out a long breath, you reached out to comb a hand through his hair. Bringing him closer again so that you could drag your tongue along his lower lip. It worked if his slurred speech was anything to go by.

“This really isn’t our first date,” he groaned when you tugged on the strands with more force.

Being in power was definitely exhilarating.

“It, kind of, is” you smirked, enjoying his unfocused eyes that roamed across your face.

“Then I, kind of, want to kiss you”

He leaned in, and this time you let him capture your lips in a hungry kiss. It was always too easy to get lost in Neil in those moments. Your hands alternated between tugging on his hair and touching the back of his neck just to feel his bare skin. You wanted to get him out of that shirt as soon as possible. It was a matter of urgency for reasons unknown.

When you broke the contact, both gasping for breath, you used the hand tangled in his hair to pull him down so that he was lying on top of you. Neil glanced up at you with a surprised smile.

“Pretty sure there are better ways of making me sleep with you,” he noticed, showing that offensive tongue poking from between the pink, slightly swollen lips.

Now that was torture.

“Who said anything about that” you crashed your lips against his just because he was there using a break in the sentence for that very purpose “I just wanted to have you at my mercy for once”

How about that. You enjoyed the slight surprise in his eyes, feeling a surge of inspiration. Quickly, you hooked one of your legs over his hip, using it as leverage to switch, making him become the one pinned underneath. The shock on his face was palpable. You took in the parted lips, frown visible on the forehead and perplexed gaze. It only took him approximately 30 seconds to shake it off. Grinning devilishly, he ran his hands alongside your sides, using the new freedom of movement. When he tugged your shirt from the waistband of your skirt and slipped his hand underneath the material, you wondered whether it was not a mistake on your side.

“Trust me I’m always at your mercy. Even if it doesn’t seem so” his eyes glimmered darkly, adding weight to the sentence and making breath hitch in your throat.

From this position, you could see every little detail on his face. The long eyelashes framing dark blue eyes. The adorable cleft underneath his lower lip. The nose that you always wanted to kiss the tip of. Your Neil. Leaning on one side, you traced your finger on the outline of the sharp jaw and cheekbones. His eyes were focused on your face, enthralled with how focused you were on him.

“You’re good at hiding it then,” you noticed, enjoying the way he exhaled when you brushed your thumb along his lips.

“So are you” he smiled knowingly, his hands exploring your upper body just like the previous night.

You shivered when he cupped one of your breasts through the material of the bra. One by one, the doubts were disappearing. Looking down at him, with hair ruffled beyond compare, cheeks flushed, and eyes darker than you have ever seen them before, you felt lightheaded with love. He really could be yours. Feeling like at any moment, you were likely to tell him something that could destroy the careless moment, you leaned in and began the meticulous exploration of his throat and neck. You peppered the skin with kisses and bites, sucking on the sharp edges of his jaw, making him gasp and curse. Every sound he made was like a confirmation of your inmost hopes and desires. And the way he was reacting to everything you did began to build up the heat in your lower belly again. This time the feeling was rather expected. You felt like the further you get, the harder it will be to be ignored.

As though Neil knew exactly what was going on in your mind, he spread his legs and lifted you so that you were straddling his lap before he sat up, facing you. Taking in the effects of your exploration, you blushed. You have more than likely ruined his neck with bruises and marks there were beginning to show up on the skin. You could only hope he would not mind.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever given me so much attention” Neil met your gaze with admiration “I can’t help but wonder if that’s just a promise of how other things would look like with you” his hands retracted from underneath your shirt and started toying with the buttons.

You knew that it was his way of checking if you wanted to progress further. Feeling the pulse between your legs grow stronger, you knew the answer. Everything was too easy with him. You undid the two buttons on his shirt and replied:

“Maybe you’ll be able to test this theory tonight...” trailing off, you met his gaze purposefully, giving him time to catch the implication.

It did not take long. His hands stopped any movement, and he just stared. Then his brow furrowed again, and he cupped your cheek gently.

“Are you... do you want to? Because you don’t need to force yourself with me” the genuine concern and fondness in his gaze made your heart stumble.

You did not deserve him.

“I know, but I think I might actually... be ready” you whispered, giving in to the sudden tender moment and smiled lightly.

“What changed?” Neil brushed the hair away from your eyes.

You could tell that he really wanted to know. And while it was hard to pinpoint an exact reason, you gave him a piece of your mind. He already had everything else.

“Last night you... the way you looked at me, the way we touched... it’s never been like this with anyone” you stumbled over the sentence “And I want to know if... maybe it’s how...” you gave up, but he nodded anyway.

He always understood.

“Kiss me again” it was the only response you really needed, gladly accepting the request.

Straddling his lap, kissing to the point of breathlessness, you already felt as though you were nearing that point when relief was necessary. But before you could think about seeking it out, you had to get rid of that disrespectful shirt of his. Hurriedly you undid the buttons one by one, ignoring the wanting in his eyes. You only stopped when Neil started kissing your neck, making you gasp with the perfectly chosen spots. He knew you too well, expertly using all the tricks that were bound to work. Alternating between kissing, biting, and licking your skin, you knew that it was his way of giving back the pleasure. Despite that distraction, you nearly succeeded when he spoke again:

“Nice of you to wear a button-up” his long fingers went back to toying with the material.

“Why?” you gave out a triumphant sound when that final button was dealt with.

“Because I like being able to return the favour”

The amusement in his eyes was another reason to slide down the article down his arms and then throw it to the side. You have seen him like this before, and yet your jaw fell slack. His arms and chest were as close to perfection as you could imagine. Suddenly, you were overcome with shyness as you ran your fingers over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles and various scars. Including a very familiar one on his side. It was almost unreal to think that someone like him could be this interested in you. And yet… Feeling him watch your exploration, you met his gaze:

“Do you like what you see?” with how close you were, you felt like you were drowning in his eyes with every prolonged contact.

“You’re beautiful” admitting it felt like a relief.

He finished undoing the buttons on your shirt, and you let him take it off.

“No one’s ever called me that” Neil watched you curiously with a gentle smile.

“Then they all must be blind”

You embraced him tightly, relishing the feel of skin on skin contact you craved so badly. Your warm bodies fit perfectly as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, hands exploring the skin of his back. It was as close as you could get, but it was not enough. You needed him closer. Ideally becoming a part of you in every way possible. The thought made you remember about the need you tried to put aside for the moment. But it was still there. The pulse between your thighs and the ache deep within your core were the main reminders of its existence. Giving in to the feeling, you ground your hips down onto his thigh, but it was not enough. It could never be enough given how much you wanted him. Neil noticed what you were trying to do. He leaned back and met your gaze. You knew that he was likely to see the unmeasurable longing there. You were unable to hide it anymore. Tentatively, his hands unzipped the skirt, and you shifted so that it could be dropped onto the floor as well. You blushed when you realized what position you found yourself in, sat on Neil’s lap in only your underwear. More than likely soaking through your panties just because of how he was making you feel. But, as usual, Neil had an answer to those panicked thoughts…

“It’s okay” meeting your wild gaze, he tilted your chin “You’re perfect, don’t let your brain tell you otherwise” he kissed you gently.

His hands splayed over your back, brushing the skin carefully. His touching putting everything ablaze. You never felt fire like that burn through every cell in your body. For a moment, you wondered whether this was meant to happen. That maybe you were destined to be together. Because how else could it be this perfect?

“You’re being too generous, I think” you breathed.

In response, Neil only smirked. His hands traveled down your sides onto your parted thighs. Rubbing the skin and getting ever so close to where you needed him most. You could not stop the gasp that escaped your throat when he touched your panties. Instantly he knew exactly what to do. Meeting your gaze with determination, he traced the hem of the undergarment.

“Let me take care of this” it was not exactly a question, but you knew that he would wait for consent.

You wanted it more than you could express, and yet that voice in your head was rebelling. Because it meant letting the most important person in your life see you vulnerable. More than ever.

“Neil, I…” you huffed, frustrated with yourself.

“It’s okay, love. It’s the least I can do for you” his fingers scratched the skin just above the line of underwear as though to remind you of what you could get. It was probably both the undeniable need you felt combined with the way he was looking at you that made you nod then.

“Please”

He kissed you on the forehead and let his fingers slip underneath the material. The moment you felt him touch you, any thoughts you might have had disappeared. If he was surprised by how ready you were, he did not show it, instead focusing on making you feel better. Your hands searched for a steady grip and settled on his arms. He let you get used to the sensation before his thumb circled your clit, making your head fall against his shoulder. The fire in your veins only got worse. You moaned quietly, and Neil chuckled in response, clearly satisfied with the response. When you felt his fingers inside, building up a rhythm that was undoubtedly going to be the end of you, you bit down on his shoulder harshly. As a reaction, he only picked up the tempo. You knew that it was not going to take long. He hit the perfect spot then, and you were unable to hold off any longer. He was the centre of your attention, both the cause and the solution to everything you felt.

“Fuck… Neil…” gasping for breath, your fingernails dug into his biceps, bruising the skin.

He must have felt that you were close, for he raised your chin again, preventing your instinct to hide from him. Your walls clenched around his fingers. You shuddered, prepared for the release. When you came undone the next moment, you could not stop yourself from crying out:

“Neil…” it was a plea but also an act of devotion “I…” love you.

Later you realised how close you got to telling him. And he must have understood it too for he captured your lips in a kiss, letting you ride out the high he brought you to. You passed the confession from your lips to his. You felt faint and yet so full of things you could not begin to understand that his lips against yours were like an anchor. Pulling you in and keeping you grounded. He brought you to the edge, and what awaited beyond surpassed any expectations. The world exploded for you, and the only thing left was Neil, his lips on yours, taking everything you were willing to give him, and his body steady beneath your shaking hands. He only ended the kiss when he knew that you were done and withdrew his hand, wiping it on the bedsheets.

“Are you alright?” his voice was raspy, and yet the look in his eyes could not be softer.

You rested your forehead against his, recovering. It never felt so good before. And it was just him bringing you the necessary release after weeks and months of ignoring and denying it. Suddenly you wanted nothing but to know what it would be like to feel him inside you. It was as though once you allowed yourself this much, you only wanted more. Death surely could not be sweeter…

“Yeah, I…” you did not know what you actually wanted to tell him “I want…” frustrated at lack of coherence, you met his gaze hopelessly.

The depth of love, desire, and understanding you saw there took your breath away. He really was quite something.

“What do you want?”

For once, the answer could not be simpler.

“You. I want you”

The genuine smile you got for the confession was worth any future regrets.

“Then we’re even” Neil cupped your cheek while his other hand reached to the clasp on your back “Are you sure?”

But it was the way he bucked his hips into yours then that made you realise. Feeling his hardness, you swallowed. But at the same time, you knew you were ready for more.

“Yes. Shut up and just…” you brushed your crotch against his, unexpectedly not caring about the fact that he just took off your bra.

Impatiently, you undid the buckle on his belt. The want you saw in his eyes was enough to assure you that he understood.

“Got you” his husky voice sent a shiver through your body.

His hand cupped your breast, stimulating the nipples as though you needed more. You kissed him on the neck, making one of the marks even darker. It was almost too simple. Unzipping his trousers, you returned the earlier favour and ran your hand over his crotch. The gasp you got in response was enough to set the fire. You met his lips in a fervent kiss, getting ready to get past the point of no return for you both.

A knock on the door was like a slap to the face, piercing the silence and ripping apart the moment you both build up.

“Neil?” TP’s voice coming through the door only intensified the feeling.

You both stilted the movement, lips brushing, tongues intertwined.

“Are you there?” at the question, Neil broke the contact.

“Yes. Just give me a moment” he called out with that breathless voice that made you realise how close it really was.

“Okay,” the slightly suspicious tone in the boss’s voice was pushed you over the edge.

Fucking hell. You started laughing hysterically, collapsing against Neil, fighting for breath. He sighed heavily and embraced you, taking time to soak in the last few seconds of the moment.

“Holy fuck” the curse only made you laugh harder.

“Indeed” you choked out and met his gaze.

It took him 5 seconds to join in with your mad laugh.

[hotshotsxyz]

Yes your writing is so cool!! If you ever have time my prompt would be sth along the lines of - what if Buck gets insecure abt whether or not people like him? Most of the time he knows the 118 loves him, but sometimes he feels like he's exhausting them. And there is that one time they joke abt sth but he interprets it wrong and gets his feelings hurt so he starts to withdraw. But they're having none of it and WHEN they figure it out? Oh boy, he gets showered with love. Maybe tears up a lil.

I finally did it!! Thank you so much for sending in a prompt, I really enjoyed writing it! I hope you like it!!

not then, not now

buddie (1.6k) (read it on ao3)

The thing is, Buck knows that when Chim’s jokes are a little more biting than usual, it’s because he’s dead on his feet. Having a baby at home will do that to you. He knows that when Hen ignores him in favor of her textbooks, it’s because she’s stressed and being pulled in too many directions all at once. When Bobby lectures him, it’s because he cares. When Eddie retreats in on himself and won’t talk to him, it’s because he’s had to be fiercely independent his entire life, and he still struggles with leaning on the people that care about him.

In his head, Buck knows all of these things. It’s like he told Maddie, though: sometimes, he just doesn’t feel like he can trust it. Objectively, he can point to a hundred times his teammates have shown him they love him. Hell, they’ve told him. But in those little moments, he doesn’t feel it.

(“Exhausting.”

“What makes you say that, Evan?” Dr. Copeland asks.

“Eddie said it once.” Buck squirms uncomfortably.

“Do you think he meant it?”

“No,” Buck says, looking away.

“How did it make you feel?”)

So he does little things to make them feel better, and he tries not to make it about himself. He makes a cup of tea for Hen and doesn’t try to bring up the article he read the night before. He offers to babysit for Chim and Maddie and makes sure to laugh at Chim’s jokes, even if he has to force it. He spots Eddie in the gym and pointedly doesn’t ask why his jaw’s been clenched for the better part of an hour. He helps Bobby in the kitchen and does his best to look contrite when he’s scolded for not leaving the fire fast enough, even though there’d still been a bedroom left to check.

It’s been that kind of week. Still, he can’t help but chatter excitedly on the way back from a call that involved a sinkhole, because, like, sinkhole! It’s the first one he’s ever seen, and maybe the only natural disaster he’s never been called to before.

Hen shakes her head (fondly, right?) and sighs. “You’re a walking, talking Wikipedia, you know that?”

“Yeah, one that never shuts up,” Chim jokes, elbowing her.

He doesn’t mean anything by it. Buck knows he doesn’t mean anything by it, but he snaps his mouth shut anyway and offers a sheepish smile. Eddie shoots a glare at Chim, which Buck appreciates, but honestly, he’s not wrong. He keeps quiet the rest of the ride.

The rest of the week, actually. They could all use a break from him, Buck’s sure of it. They love him, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean they want to deal with him 24/7. That’s fine. It is.

Eddie ambushes him in the locker room on Monday morning. They’re just coming off a 24-hour shift, and Buck’s barely keeping his eyes open. They’d had call after call, virtually nonstop, and the only thing he can even begin to think about is going to bed. So when Eddie asks him what’s wrong, he’s genuinely confused.

“M’fine,” Buck yawns. “Tired,” he amends.

Eddie chuckles softly. “Yeah, me too.”

“Pretty sure I could sleep for a week,” Buck says.

Eddie nods in agreement. “If you’re willing to trade a week for ten hours, you want to come over for dinner? I know Christopher would love to see you. He’s been dying to tell you about the book he’s reading in class. Something about extreme weather?”

Buck wants to go. Of course he does. And Eddie’s inviting him, which means he wants him there. It wouldn’t be too much. Still though… “I don’t want to take up your family time with Chris,” he hedges, pulling his duffle onto his shoulder.

Eddie frowns. “You’re family too, Buck. You know that, right?”

To Buck’s horror, his eyes begin to sting. The combination of his exhaustion, a week’s worth of walking on eggshells, and Eddie being nice, just like he always is, is about to push Buck over the edge.

“‘Course,” he says roughly. “I’ll be there.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. It’s times like these when Buck curses just how well Eddie knows him. If he’s not out of this locker room in 30 seconds, Eddie’s going to clock that he isn’t just tired, and then he’s going to make Buck explain, and then Buck’s going to be putting his shit on someone else all over again.

“Buck,” Eddie starts.

“Gotta go, see you tonight. Text me the time!” Buck says in a rush, pasting a bright smile on his face and turning to leave as quickly as he can.

Eddie catches his elbow.

Too late.

“Please talk to me,” Eddie asks softly.

Buck feels himself deflate. “It’s stupid.”

“Not if it’s bothering you. And don’t tell me it’s not. We’ve all noticed something’s been off this week. We’re worried,” Eddie says. “I’m worried,” he amends, when Buck won’t look him in the eye.

He looks at Eddie and sees the care and concern written all over his face, and he just… can’t keep it in anymore. A tear slips past his lashes and rolls down his cheek. Eddie’s eyes widen. He raises a hand to Buck’s face and brushes away the tear, then leads him to the bench.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

“I don’t…” Buck trails off. It’s not that he doesn’t know what he’s feeling, not even that he has trouble putting it into words. He just can’t say it. “I can’t,” he whispers, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“You can, Buck, I promise. Whatever it is, I’ve got your back, remember?”

Buck nods miserably. “I’m not going to make you carry my shit,” he says. “You’ve got enough to deal with as it is. I know something’s been bothering you, too.”

Eddie sighs. “You would notice that, wouldn’t you?”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but whatever it is, I’m not going to add onto it with…” he trails off and waves his hand, as if to encompass everything he’s thinking.

“My parents want to visit,” Eddie says after a moment, “and I’m not looking forward to defending every decision I’ve ever made all over again. Especially not after… well, you know. That’s what’s been bothering me. Your turn.”

“Eddie, I-“

“Look, Buck. I appreciate you letting me work through it in my own time, but I’m not… keeping things from you. I just needed a minute. And I’m your friend, alright? I always want to know what’s going on in your head, even if I’ve got shit rattling around in mine, too. So tell me? Please?”

“I don’t want to be exhausting,” Buck says, voice small and quiet. He hunches his shoulders in, just like he did as a kid.

Eddie looks stricken, and Buck’s immediately hit with a wave of guilt and regret.

“I’m sorry,” Buck backtracks, “I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t-“

Eddie surprises him by surging forward and pulling him into a bruising hug. “I’m sorry,” he says into Buck’s ear. “I don’t think I ever said it, but I am. I didn’t mean it then, and I don’t think it now.”

“I know,” Buck says quietly. He returns the hug, but doesn’t quite relax into it.

Eddie pulls back a little and looks him in the eye, not letting go of his shoulders. “I don’t think you do,” he says.

“You don’t have to-“

“I do. Buck, you’re the most selfless person I know. You care about everyone else so much, and sometimes I wonder if that leaves enough space left for you. You matter, Buck, to all of us. Whatever it was we did this week that made you feel like this, we’re sorry. Every single person here loves you, and we want to know when something’s wrong, okay?”

Another tear tracks its way down Buck’s face. “Okay,” he whispers.

“C’mon,” Eddie says, standing and holding his hand out.

Buck takes it and stands, wiping his face with his other hand as he does. To his surprise, Eddie doesn’t let go; instead, he threads his fingers through Buck’s and pulls. Buck follows him helplessly as he leads him out of the locker room and back up the stairs to the firehouse loft. To his even greater surprise, the entire team is still there.

“What, uh, what are you guys still doing here?” Buck asks. His voice is steadier than before, but still comes out rougher than he’d like.

“Waiting for you,” Hen says, standing from the couch.

“Why?” Buck can’t help but ask. He knows. He knows, but… maybe he wants to hear her say it.

She gives him a look, like she knows he’s fishing, but indulges him anyway. “Because you’ve been down all week, and we care about you.”

Buck’s knee-jerk reaction is to tell her he’s fine, but then Eddie nudges him. It makes him want to laugh, because of course Eddie knows exactly what he was going to do. He shakes his head and smiles.

“I was feeling a little, uh, insecure, I guess.” Buck looks at his feet, but looks up as Hen walks closer, Bobby and Chimney following behind.

Hen nods, like she already knew. Honestly, she probably did. “And now?”

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Starting to feel better,” Buck grins.

“Good,” Hen nods, and then she’s hugging him.

“We love you, kid,” Bobby says, joining in.

Chim wraps his arms around all three of them. “Yeah we do, Buckaroo,” he says.

Eddie plasters himself along Buck’s back and puts a hand on his waist. He leans in close to his ear and quietly says, “and I’m not going to let you forget it.”

Buck sighs and relaxes into the hug. So what if he gets a little stuck in his head? He’s got a family that will always be there to pull him back out.