#it's been eleven days since the last time i saw my partner

[varjopeura]

.

[practicalgauntlet]

Something Sweet

Synopsis- You and Spencer are stuck in the bullpen doing paperwork. Everyone else has left for home or gone out for a drink, what a perfect time for such a delicious meal.

Category- Smut

Key- (---) =POV change

Notes- Chubby!Reader, None of my stuff will ever include Hard Dom Spencer because I just don't believe that man is into anything super kinky like slapping his partner around, that being said this includes smut, touching, unprotected sex, sex on a desk, semi-public sex (because they do it out in the open but no one is around)blow jobs, heavy tension build-up, mutual pining, established flirting, body worshiping, Female reader (if anyone wants I can repost this with different genders but I am a female so I find it easier to write smut with female anatomy), early season spencer (1-6)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The bullpen had long since been emptied, the last one to leave was your stoic boss with a tight-lipped 'good luck'. You had been nose-deep in the paperwork of your last case, the brutal story of a little boy and his dad, when you realized you were alone. Or so you thought you were.

There was a sense of unease witnessing such a busy place, usually rife with chaos and life, settle down for the night. The massive windows only further aided that feeling, with the cloud-shrouded, moonlit sky your only true beacon of light. But you were almost done, only a few pages left until you could hail a cab and be closer to the warm comfort of your bed.

However, if you wanted to finish the papers soon, you needed something to soothe the piercing ache in your stomach. When was the last time you ate? Oh, that's right, you went out with Emily and the girls for lunch. With a quick glance at your wristwatch, you grumbled at the time. It was now eleven-thirty, which made it roughly ten hours since you had last eaten.

You stand up from your desk, arms instinctively shooting high above your head to relieve the tension that clung to your back and shoulders. You couldn't help the way your eyes darted to the darkest corners of the room or the way you hovered your hand above your gun as you walked down the hall to the break room. The dark had always made you antsy, but after years of hunting the monsters that went bump in the night, you knew to be cautious.

When you turned the corner though, you saw the sterile white light of the breakroom illuminate the hall, banishing all thoughts of hidden dangers and bringing forth the fear of an intruder. Sure you couldn't be the only one in this building staying later to finish work, but you could have sworn you said goodbye to everyone. And after all those times this place had been infiltrated, you didn't hesitate to unclip your holster and slide your gun into your hands.

You didn't click off the safety though, the possibility of an innocent life was still high enough that you didn't want to risk anything. As you pressed yourself to the wall, adrenaline corsing through your blood, you slowly creep towards the breakroom.

It wasn't until you were at the open doorway, gun half raised for both possibilities, that you realized you weren’t the only agent burning the midnight oil. Spencer Reid was at the counter, his hands splayed on the counter on either side of the coffee pot he was yawning over.

"Jeeze, Spence." You murmured, you heartbeat still racing. It didn't help that Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie, and forgone his usual sweater in favor of a white dress shirt. His hair was wild, like he had spent the past few hours running his hands through it. "You scared me."

"Sorry," He simply said, turning his head towards you. "Do you want a cup?"

If it'll keep him there, displayed for your greedy eyes; then yes. "I'd never say no coffee."

The tired smirk that flashed across his face made your knees weak. Even if he looked completely ran ragged, tired from the day and whatever paperwork you assumed he was staying late for, he still managed to send heat through your body.

You walk up to him, turning and leaning back against the counter to join him in watching the coffee pot slowly fill up. The two of you didn't talk at that time, only glancing at each other when the other wasn't looking.

"Did you know," Spencer started having reached his quota of tension filled silence. "In the eighteenth century, some governments tried to ban coffee because they thought it would encourage radical thinking."

"I did not know that." You chuckle, loving the way he turns his head to look at you. Spencer's big brown eyes seemed to swirl with emotion, something heady yet fragile.

The coffee machine beeps, startling the two of you out of your impromptu staring contest. Spencer goes about searching for your favorite mug, grabbing his along the way, and filling the two up. He dumps a shit load of sugar in his but leaves yours empty. "It's funny, in all the years we've known each other, I don't know how you take your coffee."

You grab the mug, body lighting up with excitement when you have to reach across Spencer to get to it. He doesn't move out of your way, only watching as your hand just barely brushes against his stomach.

"Depends on what mood I'm in." It wasn't until you heard your voice in your own ears that you notice the sultry tone to it.

Spencer leans in, not enough to count as a move but enough that you notice he was both infinitely closer than before and still miles apart from you. "And what mood are you in?"

Your breath escapes you, crawling out of your lungs and into the open air between the two of you. Your next words were no more than a whisper. "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The smile that graced his face was something you had never seen Spencer wear. Especially not in a situation like this. It was confident, sure...heated. "Good to know."

Spencer said nothing else as he sipped from his mug and walked back to the bullpen.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The next time you find yourself staying at headquarters later than the rest of the team, you weren't surprised to find Spencer still seated at his desk. And just like last time, Spencer had relaxed thoroughly at his desk. He was sporting his white dress shirt again only this time his tie hung on the back of his chair with his vest and he had unbuttoned the top two buttons.

You found it hard to focus on your work, what with Spencer just a few desks away from you. Instead of the last case and what you were supposed to write down regarding all that had transpired, you couldn't take your eyes away from the cut of his jaw. Or the column of his throat. Or the tone forearms he rested on the edge of his desk. The way his lips rapidly moved as he whispered to himself while his fingers swiftly trailed down the page.

You adjusted yourself in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs and relieve yourself of the building pressure between your legs. In the emptiness of the bullpen, your movement echoed and drew the attention of Spencer. He looked up and smiled, not at all privy to your internal battle and rising blood pressure.

---

What you didn't know though, was that he was watching you from his peripheral; aware that your eyes were on him. He noticed you moving around as if you couldn't quite get comfortable, shifting back and forth in your chair every now and then.

When he looked up at you, your chair creaking loudly throughout the room, he had caught you. You swiftly look down, pretending to write something down while a blush crept up your cheeks.

Spencer didn't know what was going on between the two of you, it was something he had never experienced in his life. He knew all species were driven to find mates through different methods of appeal. What he didn't expect was to be affected by that natural urge to attract. When it came to you, he felt suave, confident, and appealing. Words and actions naturally bypass his strict filter and he became someone he'd never thought he'd become.

When you would look up at him with a bright smile, he could always tell what you were thinking. Especially once he caught your eyes darting to his lips. But he never felt good enough, not as he flirted back, not as he fantasized about what you would taste like on his tongue. No, Spencer Reid was a destined loser, fated to a life surrounded by only friends and family. Not a beautiful woman who'd allow him the great privilege of touch and pleasure.

Again, he found himself acting without thinking. He had waved you over, desperately needing to see your face more clearly, yearning to feel the warmth of your body next to his.

You slowly got up, hesitant at first but the closer you got the more confident your stride became. You sat at the desk in front of him and when you sat down your legs brushed against his. It sent a jolt through his body, igniting a flame that had slowly been stoked over time.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sound was pages being flipped. Spencer couldn't focus on his paperwork anymore, too engrossed in the way your leg kept brushing against his. It was like you wanted to torture him slowly; with every shift of your hips.

A couple times he peeked at you after your ankle knocked with his to see if you were doing it on purpose. But it seemed as if you put all your willpower into the paper before you. Spencer noticed that you hadn't moved on from that one page in the half hour you had sat next to him. Maybe you were just as affected by this as he was.

To test his theory, he sank a little lower in his seat, spreading his legs and taking up more room. You stiffened when he gently shifted his foot to touch yours, then the other. He gauges your reactions, forming a hypothesis as to why you were so wound up.

Taking it further, his work completely forgotten, Spencer straightened up and leaned forward. This drew your attention, pulling your eyes to his like the speed of light. "I think I'm in the mood for something sweet."

Spencer relished in the blush that he brought to your cheeks and knew he was right. You felt the same pull that he felt. You were riddled with the same yearning he was. He hummed with delight, standing up and holding his hand out for you. You took it hesitantly, curious as to what had taken over him.

Instead of taking you to the breakroom like you thought he was going to, he spun you around so that your ass was pressed against the edge of your desk. You gasped with surprise as Spencer leaned forward and blocked you in with his hands on either side of your hips. The man in question was surprised aswell, his actions skewing so far away from his intentions. But now that he had you in his grasp, your perfume clouding your mind, he couldn't stop himself as he leaned in.

Your lips were as soft as he imagined. The way his whole world turned upside down the moment his mouth was pressed to yours and his hands found purchase on your hips just so he could have something to hold on to.

His mind spun as his hands uncontrollably kneaded the soft flesh of your hips and waist. You pulled back, your breath fanning across his face as you greedily took in the air he stole from you. Spencer only allowed you a second or two before diving back in, tilting his head so he could access your mouth better.

It felt like his body was acting on pure instinct, every thought, every fact and statistic evading his mind. He was sure if someone asked him about anything other than the way you felt or tasted he would come up blank.

Spencer couldn't help the groan of delight as your hands flew to his chest, skirting up his shirt and landing on his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, drawing him deeper into the kiss as you cart your fingers through his hair.

If Spencer believed in heaven, this would be it.

---

Spencer had you pinned to the table, his hands roaming over your backside like he was trying to memorize the feel. In a split second three things happened. Spencer slotted himself between your legs, drawing his knee up and pressing his thigh against your throbbing cunt. The sudden and delicious friction had you gasping and Spencer took the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth. It took only half a second for your tongues to touch before the two of you let out a shuddering moan.

The sound rang out into the bullpen, echoing throughout the empty room and drawing the two of you back into reality. Spencer looked at you with wide eyes, like he had been acting solely on impulse. "Is," He cleared his throat, closing his eyes for just a second before leaning his forehead against yours. "Is this okay?"

You pull your hands out of his hair and down to his cheeks, cupping his face so he could look you in the eyes. "It's more than okay, Spence."

Again, he closed his eyes as if he were holding something back. The next time he spoke, his voice was ragged and strained. "You taste as sweet as I imagined."

You didn't like being so far away from him, so you pulled him back to you and met his eager mouth with yours. One of his hands trailed up your body, leaving a blazing path up your side. You felt his breath shudder once he reached your heavy breast, his hand at the edge of your ribcage as his thumb gently rested below your nipple.

"Can I-" He murmured against your lips and before he could even ask you've popped the buttons of your blouse.

Spencer pulls back to admire you, his deft fingers gently pulling the fabric away to expose your bra. In a bout of abnormal confidence, Spencer slips your blouse off your shoulders and unhooks the clip of your bra.

In the dim light of Spencer's desk lamp, you could see the caramel brown of his eyes taken completely over by his blown iris. He's blatantly staring at your tits, the cold air hitting your exposed skin and sending goosebumps over your arms.

"You're," He hums again, only this time it sounds like a broken, strangled groan. "You're so beautiful."

Before you could respond, Spencer grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up on the desk. Not a moment later his mouth was enveloping your nipple. The wet heat of his mouth, of his tongue, on your skin was pure ecstasy. The way he swirled his tongue over your nipple before sucking the skin into his mouth.

His other hand came up and palmed your lonely breast, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple to mimic his mouth. He kissed all across your chest, sucking on spots until you felt blood pool to the surface.

"Spence..." You sigh, loving the feel of him but needing his skin on yours, needing him to chase the chill that threatened to creep in. When he didn't let up, you pulled at his hair and brought his face close to yours. "Spence, take off your shirt."

The look on his face was adorable, with his eyes blown wide and dark, a goofy smile stretching his face as he looked at you like you were worth the world. "Yeah," That smile never left his face. He pulled away from you only far enough to undo the buttons of his dress shirt and slip the fabric off of his shoulders.

You pull him back to you, the heat of his skin as delicious as you needed it. He met you in the middle, your chest pressed against him as his mouth ravaged yours. Spencer shifted to get closer to you. In doing this, he pressed his hips into you and you felt the hard outline of his cock in his slacks.

You experimentally roll your hips, both desperate for friction and curious as to how he'd react. He hunched over, his body shaking around you, and groaned. You did it again and he tossed his head back, exposing the delicious column of his throat.

You wanted to mark him like he marked you, so you leaned forward and latched on. You kissed and sucked all over his neck and while you were distracted, Spencer grabbed your hips and pulled you back to him.

Over and over again, he thrust into you. With his hips growing more erratic, you pull away from his neck and take his face in your hands. "Spence, Spence, stop."

Immediately he jumped back, his face flushed and his breath ragged. " Did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry, I couldn't control myself."

He was too far, the open air of the bullpen nipping at your exposed skin. Instead of pulling him closer, you hop off the desk and peel off your skirt.

"You did nothing wrong, we just can't have you coming in your pants now can we?"

Spencer was watching your every move. His eyes tracked the way you hooked your thumbs into your waistband and slowly slid the skirt off for him. Thank god you chose comfort today, you didn't know how embarrassing it would be to try and seductively take off a pair of pantyhose.

You kicked off your shoes and stood before Spencer in just your panties. He was tense, hands opening and closing at his sides as he watched you with heavy lids. Half wanting to get him adjusted to the situation and half because you were dying to taste him, you drop to your knees in front of him and slide your hands up his thighs.

"This okay?" You ask, making sure his comfort is put above all else.

He reaches for your cheek, sliding his palm into your hair so he is holding your face at just the right angle. "More than okay."

You undo his button, then his zipper, slowly pulling down his pants in the process. Just because you were selfish and desperate, you shuck off his boxers along with his slacks and finally he was free.

His cock bobbed in front of you, pulsing with desire. It was hot to the touch as you wrapped your hand around the base, giving him a few experimental strokes. The noises he was already making were pure ecstasy and you hadn't even taken him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck-" Spencer groaned, his voice strained as you plant a little kiss on the head of his cock.

You flick your tongue out, tasting the salty precome that wept from the tip. Slowly, you wrapped your mouth around him, flattening your tongue so you could take him better.

Spencer let out a long, ragged groan as swirled your tongue over that sensitive little nerve under the head. His hands flew to your hair, gently pushing your head down and pulling you back before you could gag. You bobbed your head only three times before he was yanking you back and gripping the base of his cock.

"Hold on, hold on."

You look up at him, watching as he staves off his orgasm. You couldn't help but enjoy the sight. Spencer Reid, the passionate and seemingly innocent young Doctor was looking down at you with his cock in his hand.

You bit your lip at the sight, ready to devour him whole if he let you. Spencer closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he pulled you up by your hand. He led you back to the desk, urging you to sit back on it. You oblige, excited to finally feel full of his cock. But when Spencer gets to his knees, you let out a whine of disappointment

"I want to return the favor." He said as he stared at your throbbing cunt like a starved man sat before a buffet. But you were ready, you needed him now.

You gently tugged on his hair until he was looking at you. "As much as I'd love for you to go down on me, Spence, I need you."

"I'm right here."

"No," You look at him pointedly, slipping your hand down your stomach so you can trail your fingers through your slick. " I need you. Please, Spence."

His eyes widened and he abruptly stood. "I don't, I don't have a condom."

You spread your legs, hoping the glistning of your need was enough to persuade him. "I'm on the pill, it's okay."

He let out another shuddering breath, his hands tentatively taking your legs and wrapping them around his back. With a hand on his cock, he aligns himself with you. Spencer didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed in.

The stretch of him, the burn, was like nothing you've ever felt. A loud,, echoing moan wrenched itself out of you as he went deeper. He's still pushing in, pausing every now and then so the two of you can catch your breath. Once he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, and he takes his hand to your cheek.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

Never in your life had you heard Spencer talk like this, so vulgar, so heated. He looked at you like you hung the very stars he studied. The two of you sit still for a moment, basking in his gaze and his cock and his body and everything that was Spencer Reid.

"You have to move, please, you have to move." You whisper, feeling that sudden, desperate need for him to take over once again.

"Right," He mutters, that goofy smile back on his face. It falls the moment he pulls back, keeping his cockhead inside before pushing back in.

Spencer's eyes are screwed shut as his thrusts pick up the pace. It was slow like molasses and built a different type of pressure than you were used to.

"I'm not going to last long, " He whispers, arms shaking from where they were braced by your head.

"That's okay, Spence, just let go."

You slide your hands between the two of you, your middle finger swirling across your clit to get yourself to come faster. You wanted nothing more than to become undone with him.

Spencer groaned in your ear, whispering sweet nothings as he kisses and sucks more hickies onto your neck. Once he notices your hand, he slaps it away and replaces your finger with his thumb.

It was a new sensation, his now positioning thrusts joining with the rough way he was treating your clit. You were ricocheted into an orgasm faster than ever before.

White hot pleasure flooded you as you curled into Spencer. Not a moment later you feel him settle as deep as he can and moan into your neck. Warmth is spread inside you, leaking out of your spent pussy and onto Spencer's cock.

It took the two of you a few minutes to gather your breath and remember who and where you were. Spencer was still on top of you, his softening cock slipping out as he pulled away.

That stupid, adorable, goofy smile didn't leave his face. Not as he helped you up, not as he littered your face with sweet peering kisses, not even as he watched you get dressed. You felt an ache deep within your facial muscles and realized you wore that same grin.

Spencer was still all over you, holding you close to him and kissing you wherever he could get his lips. "Can't I go down on you next time?"

"Next time?"

Spencer's face fell. "I mean, if you want a next time."

You chuckle and give him a quick peck on the cheek, not at all satisfied with him yet. "How about you come back to my place if you're still so eager?"

[katzenmas]

just imagine cbf!Gaz seeing you again after ten years. Last time he saw you was when you guys finished your GCSEs. somehow you still looked the same even after all these years. the loud laugh that you barked out in the midle of the supermarket made him do a 160 degree turn.

he knew that godawful laugh, and it belonged to a snarky mean girl he knew as a kid. she was awful, always making fun of him in some way or another, showing up at his house like she owned it, eating his snacks and staying for dinner that his ma prepared. you were a nuisance at first. just some kid that moved in two houses down. then you became a thorn at his side when you caught him staring at your old my little pony dolls.

that very day, under the hot summer sun, napes sticky with sweat and lips tugged into smiles while you and Kyle played with your dolls, a beautiful friendship was born.

both of you started school, as fate would have it, you were conveniently placed as classmates. always going to and coming back from school together. never once did you grow apart. during those eleven years in school you and kyle both got new friends, different friendgroups but never lost sight of each other.

but then he joined the military. he finished his exams and got his acceptance letter into bootcamp the same day. his excited expression fell from his face when he saw how you clutched the letter he gave you a bit more tightly. your eyes looked up into his, with white molten rage simmering in your irises.

' I will be protecting you! protecting the whole country' he was screaming. nervous hands running to run his fingers through his hair, small puffs of air heaving out of kyle's chest.

' Yes by killing other people who are doing the same thing Kyle! don't you get it? you are just a body to them, you will be replaced by some other idiot kid who thinks he can be a hero' your yell tore through his room. you two have been at it for hours now. his whole room was a mess, things were thrown in the heat of the moment, some old football trophy lay broken next to a sweater of his that you threw at kyle's head.

'please, just stay' you were much quieter, your tone pleading, begging him to reconsider. ' just stay with me, be safe with me'

next morning he took his bags and left for bootcamp.

it's been ten years since that. turns out you still live in the small town you guys grew up in, or maybe you're visiting our parents? kyle's mind is running a hundred miles per hour, looking over at your form, trying to notice what had changed.

the first thing he noticed was your hair. it was no longer styled in the edgy way you liked to keep it during your rebellious teenage years. it was your natural hair color, a few strands framed your face and shook round as you laughed with your shopping partner.

the next thing he noticed were your hands. your fingers more specifically. kyle was looking each of your fingers, trying to notice even the smallest flash of metal. of a ring. he came up empty handed.

before he could choose another part of you to analyze, the loud sound of glass breaking got him to look up.

the jar of pickles you were holding slipped from your hands. your fingers were shaking, eyes trained on him, frozen in stupor. kyle saw the gears turn in your head, he could almost see the memories of your fight flashing by your eyes. your friend placed a hand on your shoulder but you ignored it, staring kyle down with a cold gaze.

a few beats of silence streched for far longer than kyle would have liked, so he broke it.

'hey there! its been years' he tried to sound casual about it but it came out a bit forced, his voice sounded like there was soemthing lodged in the back of his throat. he outstretched his arm and moved closer to you, but was left frozen mid action as you turned your back towards him and just picked another jar of pickled from the shelf in front of you.

you did not dignify him kyle with a response, hellbent on acting like he was not even standing there. you shook your head and turned to your friend, a smile graced your lips again as you pushed your trolley past Kyle, never looking at him again.

' did you know that guy?'

'i dont think so, can't remember him' kyle felt his heart shatter.

-----

idk where i was going with this. it was supposed to be a smutty one at first and then i was like hmmm... haven't written agnst yet. so yeah.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: AO3 is down & supposedly leading people to a scammy site looking to steal personal info, so for now, these 2 chapters are staying on Tumblr until further notice. It's ALWAYS something, I s2g. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

**********

Chapter Five: A Break.

Several hours later, as midday drips into the afternoon, you are champagne-tipsy and shaking ass like it’s nobody’s business. 

The DJ should’ve known better than to start playing Uncle Luke and thinking you and Rumi wouldn’t be losing your shit. The rabbit hero is right behind you, catching your ass as you throw it, hyping you up in the meantime.

“Yaaass, bitch!” she shouts while Nemuri and Yu laugh behind her. “As you should with that ass, bitch!” 

At this point, your braids have fallen out of your updo and are swinging around your face and you’ve abandoned your shoes. The champagne has you feeling bubbly and warm. All is right in the world and nothing can touch you right now as you dance with your friends, joyful laughter spilling from your lips. 

The rest of the wedding reception was a whirlwind of food, alcohol, and pictures with Fatgum and Haruko as the newly married couple. You took pictures with them alongside Keigo by the gazebos before the DJ replaced the band and started pulling out the party songs like the Cupid Shuffle and Cha Cha Slide.

The blue sky has since transitioned to a tangerine orange as the sun begins to set on the summer evening. You almost don’t want the day to end. You’ve been having too much fun with your friends and enjoying yourself, tossing back glass after glass of the finest champagne. 

After the DJ gets all the “freak ‘em” tracks out of his bag, he begins to play the slower, more romantic songs. Instantly, people start coupling up with their significant others and partners. You look around, finding that you’re surrounded by couples you know: Fatgum and Haruko; Nemuri and Yu; Aizawa and Mic (after Mic drags him over to the floor against his will). 

And you’re all alone now. Rumi has since left the floor to go find someone to play with, leaving you with Nemuri and Yu to dance before the slow songs start playing.

You flush with embarrassment, feeling awkward and small now that you’re standing alone among the lovey-dovey couples. You wonder where Rei is. The last time you saw him was an hour ago…or was it two? 

You turn to go search for him, but as you turn, you become wobbly due to the alcohol catching up with you. A gasp leaves your lips as you teeter to the side, your hands outstretched to catch yourself if you fall. But someone interlocks their muscular arm around your waist, stopping you from hitting the floor and making a fool of yourself.

“Whoa, whoa, birdie!” Keigo teasingly says. “Wouldn’t want you to bust that pretty face. Especially before the Gala.” 

You look up into the citrine eyes of your best friend, thankful to have him come to your rescue. When he sits up upright, his hand brushes against your lower back, his fingertips grazing your skin. It gives you chills, but you pass it off as an effect of the sun setting. In this position, you now see Rei standing by the snack table chatting with Snipe and Hounddog.

Keigo looks in the same direction, scowling. “What, your man don’t dance?” he scoffs. 

“You know he doesn’t dance, Keigo,” you fire back, rolling your eyes. “Plus, he’s busy right now.” But even as you defend your boyfriend, you can’t help but feel a snag of irritation at the fact that he’s been chatting more with guests than spending time with you. 

“Well, he better not be too busy,” Keigo replies dryly. “I’ve seen way too many eyes on you for the past few hours.” You notice his eyes, steel-like and intimidating, cutting across the dance floor to stare at a couple of waiters who are ogling at your frame. They blush and scatter with their trays when they see Keigo glaring at them. 

You flush, not realizing you are being silently pursued. Has it been like that all day? Have you been too tipsy to notice it? The idea almost flatters you in your tipsy state. Maybe that’ll teach Rei.

“Whatever,” you scoff. “Anyways, go find Sakura so she can dance with you.” You push the blonde off the floor to go find his girlfriend whom you haven’t seen in a while either. The last time you saw her was when she was shoveling down lobster at your table. 

Keigo scowls at you, looking concerned. “And leave you all alone?”

You giggle, rolling your eyes at his overprotectiveness. “Keigo, I’m fine and Rei is literally right there. I need to talk with him anyway.”

You smile reassuringly at him and bump his hip with yours. “Go be with your girl,” you say, giving him a wink before leaving the dance floor. 

You head straight over to Rei, finding yourself becoming more bothered the closer you get to him. He’s looking quite good in his suit and the way the orange rays of the sunset are hitting his face is worthy of a nut. You slink up behind him and wrap your arms around him. “Hey, yoooou,” you coo, pecking his cheek. “Fellas, you mind if I steal him away for a bit?” 

Snipe puts up a hand while Houndog lets out a grumbling chuckle, already knowing what’s up. “Not at all, H/N,” he says through his metal mask. “He’s all yours.”

You nod at them in thanks as they walk away to converse with other pros who have begun to circle around the snack table where the huge, marveled, towering wedding cake that the chefs have brought out sits, ready to be cut. 

“You havin’ fun?” you ask Rei, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. He turns toward you, not even a bit tipsy. “Of course,” he chuckles, “but you definitely seem like you’re beating me in that department.” He stares into your hooded eyes, looking slightly concerned. “Babe, are you drunk?” 

You giggle tipsily. “A little bit,” you reply, pinching your thumb and index finger together. “The champagne just kept flowin’, so it ain’t my fault!” You give him a little pout before moving closer to him, pressing your sticky-glossed lips to his ear. “C’mon, I wanna show you something,” you whisper to him, a giggle in your chest. 

Rei pulls away enough to look down at you in hesitation. “But I think they’re about to cut the cake.”

He stares toward the snack table where Fatgum and Haruko now stand, their hands enclosed behind a large butcher knife as cameras flash. The couple stares lovingly at each other, Fatgum using his thumb to swipe strawberry buttercream icing over Haruko’s lip. 

Just seeing the love transcending between them is enough to wear your off buzz. Just another reminder of what you don’t have and what seems so complicated to possess. You immediately take Rei’s hand and drag him away. “We can get some later,” you reply, laughing as you begin skipping away with him in tow. “C’mon, hurry!” 

You drag Rei far away from any prying eyes, right to the other side of the park where there are several white tents and a group of trees blocking you from view from the guests. You can only hear the distant conversation and music carrying along the summer wind.

Rei looks at you confusedly. “What are we doing all the way back here?” he questions innocently. 

You press him up against the nearest tree, your hands gripping his biceps. Now that the alcohol has set in, so have its effects, including the horniness. Your body is begging for this man, pussy throbbing and nipples hard under your dress.

“Let’s go home,” you purr to your boyfriend. “I’ve been missin’ you so much lately. And you look damn good in this.” Your hands run over his expensive suit, feeling his muscled chest underneath. 

Rei swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing. “We can’t just leave, babe. It would be rude. Plus, don’t you want some cake?” His response kills your arousal somewhat, but Rumi’s advice comes floating back to you. “Then we’ll just do it here,” you whisper more to yourself than to him. 

Rei furrows his brows at you. “Huh?” he asks, squinting in confusion at your words. His eyes then travel to your hands which have begun to pull and tug at his belt. “Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” he hisses, trying to move your hands away. 

You put his hands up to your mouth, your body flushed and your heart pounding. “Shh,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his hand. “This won’t take long, I promise. Lemme just…”

You continue to work his belt off, loosening it before your hand dips underneath his briefs to find his softened cock. “Wait,” Rei protests. “Wait, Y/N, c’mon, I’m not even hard.” 

You stare up at him through hooded eyes, pressing your tits up against his chest. “Then let me get you there,” you purr before you begin to stroke him under his briefs. Your lips press against his jawline, trying in vain to ease his nerves. “Just let me take care of you.” 

“Y/N, cut it out!” Rei quickly jumps away from you, leaving you empty-handed. “Someone could see us!” He motions angrily toward the pointed tips of the tents that stretch overhead behind the canopy of trees that only hide so much of you. Maybe you weren’t as hidden as you initially thought.

Rei stares at you like you’re a different person; someone he isn’t sure he can trust. “What’s gotten into you?” he huffs as he fixes his pants and belt. 

You stand there, embarrassed and humiliated. The alcohol only makes you feel much worse. You feel stupid. Idiotic. And more than that, tired. It is an exhaustion that settles in your bones and makes you want to pop an Advil and smoke a blunt.

It is exhaustion only contributed by the constant work given to this relationship–mostly the sex. You know you’ve exhausted all other options and tears conjured from the champagne prick at your eyes from the fact. 

“Maybe it’s all that alcohol,” Rei sighs, already moving past you to head back to the wedding. “C’mon, let’s get you some water.” But as he begins to leave, he realizes you’re not following him and stops. “Y/N?” he asks expectantly. 

You lean against the tree, feeling like you need something solid to hold onto. “This isn’t working,” you blurt before you can stop the words from arriving. As soon as they’re out, you look at Rei, wide-eyed and damning yourself.

He stares at you, perplexed. “What isn’t?” he asks, sounding and looking so confused at you feel horrible for feeling like this. 

You will the tears threatening to drip down your face away as you sigh exhaustedly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” you weakly say. You stare down at your bare feet, afraid to look at Rei. Coward.

“I think we need a break,” you blurt out, cringing at your words. 

Silence swells around you, uncomfortable and tense. You look up at Rei, finding him to be standing as still as the trees surrounding you as your audience. “W-What?” he softly stutters, sounding devastated.

A knife stabs you in the heart, twisting. “I-I just need some time to think things over and to be alone,” you attempt to explain. Rei rapidly blinks at you, his lips parted in shock. “Are you breaking up with me?” he asks incredulously. 

“No!” you immediately reply, but then backtrack with a weak, “I don’t know. I-I just need a short break to be alone, at least until next month when the Gala is over. I wanted to give you time to work because it’s important to you.”

You turn away from him, staring out at the stretch of forest leading toward the hiking trails. “More important than me,” you murmur. 

Rei scoffs behind you, the sound pissing you off for some reason like he just can’t believe you feel so hurt. “Do you really believe that?” he questions in disbelief.

You turn to face him then, hoping he sees the exhaustion and hurt in your eyes. “What am I supposed to think, Rei?” you retort, frustrated. “We’re barely together anymore because of your job and if we are, I feel even more distant from you.” 

You huff, shoulders slumping. You wrap your arms around yourself to comfort yourself with a hug. “I’m just not happy right now with us…or the sex.” Rei’s scowl shifts to one of irritation. “The sex?” he parrots with a haughty scoff. “You’re breaking up with me over our sex life?” 

You stare at him, not believing his words. Did he hear anything you just said about feeling distant from him because of his work? He stares at you in utter disbelief and anger. “I don’t believe this!” he huffs. “I try so hard to be the perfect boyfriend for you. I give you gifts; I text you sweet little messages; I…”

He leans toward you, his voice hushed. “I performed cunnilingus on you when you were on your period!” 

You flush at the memory, especially since he’s using it as a weapon in his argument about why he’s the perfect boyfriend. He’s doing a good job at it too. “For the record, I told you that you didn’t have to do that,” you retort. “And you didn’t even do a good job.”

Rei stares at you, dumbfounded. “And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” he asks accusingly. 

“I’ve tried!” you snap, your frustrations finally being released. “For months, Rei! You’re not attentive, you barely wanna try anything new, and whenever I try to talk to you about it, you’re either too busy or you blow me off!”

Rei doesn’t look convinced. You can see he has his own unspoken frustrations in his eyes. “You sure this isn’t about him?” he cooly asks. The ice in his tone makes you wince. 

“Who?” you ask, confused. Rei doesn’t clarify, but the way he’s staring you down so harshly makes you realize who “him” is. Only one person you know can make Rei this enraged.

“Hawks?” you squeak incredulously. “You think I like Hawks?” 

Rei is dead serious, his hard stare never softening. “I see the way you look at him,” he growls. “Don’t deny it! You were looking at him today like you wanted a piece of him.”

You gape at him, realizing he’s deadass. You can’t believe he’s even insinuating this, let alone putting you on the spot like this. “Are you insane?” you scoff angrily. “No, that’s not true and I don’t appreciate you bringing Keigo into this just because you don’t like him. This is between you and me.” 

You take a moment to inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. “This isn’t working, Rei,” you firmly say. “I just need this break for time to be alone. You’re able to focus on work and so am I. Then maybe after the Gala, if we still feel the same way, we can talk more about this.” 

You wait for Rei to continue to argue or protest. But he does neither. He just stares at you silently, sizing you up like he would an opponent. He doesn’t gaze at you with love or adoration, his eyes completely void of any of those warm emotions. 

“No,” he finally growls. “I’m not waiting after the Gala. I don’t need you on my conscious during one of the most important nights of my career, so if you don’t wanna do this right, then I will.”

He looks at you and inhales. “I’m breaking up with you,” he exhales with finality. “There. You got what you wanted.” 

You feel those tears begin to rise again and quickly blink them away. “I’m sorry, Rei,” you softly utter. 

Rei continues to give you that fixed, cold stare, his lips in a tight line. “No, you’re not,” he finally murmurs, making you flinch. 

Before you can even utter another weak-ass apology, he’s turning around and zooming up the hill until he’s at the parking lot in the blink of an eye. You stand there and watch him leave until he’s in his car and peeling out of the park’s parking lot without you. 

He leaves you standing there, heartbroken and feeling like total, oven-roasted shit. Desperate to be as far away from the wedding as possible, you quickly leave and head for the nearest gazebo that overlooks the stretch of forest surrounding the backend of the park.

You stand in the white gazebo for you don’t know how long, but the evening has begun to transition to dusk. The sky has begun to turn from a shade of orangey-gold to a light hue of lavender. Fireflies flicker in and out of grass blades and between the trees now darkened from dusk. 

The sights of nature comfort you, but only a little. You’re still feeling guilt and uncertainty that eats at your entire being. You know that you hurt Rei, and that hurts you even more. How can you be sure you did the right thing? Will he even still want to rekindle things after the Gala? 

You lean your head against one of the gazebo’s pillars, staring out into the forest. You’re so transfixed on the swaying trees and the stillness of the forest that you barely notice footsteps creeping behind you through the grass.

You jump, startled, and turn to see Keigo making his way towards you. “Hey, you!” he sing-songs. “This is where you ran off to? I’ve been lookin’ for your ass for ages! Rumi swore you were kidnapped.” 

At the sight of his sunshine-bright smile, you quickly plaster your own smile onto your face. “Oh, just needed some air,” you lie through your teeth. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your girl?”  

Keigo joins you in the gazebo, leaning one hip against the ledge. “She’s asleep,” he chuckles. “Poor girl couldn’t take the festivities, so she’s in one of the tents.” He looks around, suddenly noticing you’re short of one person. “Where’s your date?” 

At the mention of Rei, your false smile wavers. “Oh! He, uh…”

You quickly search for a good lie to avoid telling Keigo the truth. “He wasn’t feelin’ well so he left. That lobster flipped his stomach. You know how shellfish is sometimes.” Keigo just stares at you, not at all persuaded or buying your shit. 

“You’re a shit liar,” he says but not unkindly. You can see the soft concern in his citrine eyes, and that makes you feel utterly sick. 

You sigh defeatedly, wrapping your arms around yourself once more to comfort yourself. “I asked for a break,” you dryly answer. Keigo’s smile falters, turning into a serious scowl. You know he wants to ask what happened, but you’re not in the mood to talk. You don’t even want to think about it.

You turn away to avoid crying in front of him as those damn tears rise again. “Look, can we not talk about this right now?” you squeak out, swallowing the lemon-sized lump forming in your throat. 

Like a good friend, Keigo doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he offers something much better. He wraps a comforting, muscular arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into him. “Looks like someone needs a pick-me-up,” he hums, smirking down at you. “Patron shots?” 

You swear that you could’ve kissed him right then. 

[shhh-secret-time]

I was going through my drabbles and WIPs and found my first rough draft on Craig’s Soulmate fic. I didn't wanna share it at the time because I was afraid of the backlash I would get with it, but I think part of the "Finding fun in writing" again is to stop caring and just doing it. So here's the snippet! It'll probably stay in WIP hell, but I'm glad I didn't delete it.

Warning: Angst, Strong Language

'Come back to this when you're ready, don't push yourself okay?'

Craig reads the scratchy handwriting over and over again. The ink bled into the napkin long ago, coffee stained the corners. It's lost the scent of whatever brew it was, but he thinks he still remembers the smell.

How could he forget the smell? It was on his shirt almost every day. On his lips when they kissed. Sometimes grounds of the brown powder would be in his hair, Craig would spend hours picking out the little bits.

"You don't have to do that." He'd tell him with a feeble attempt to swat his hand away.

"I want to." Craig would say back.

Now, all is left of the bittersweet memory is the napkin in his hand. Craig presses his thumb into the napkin, grimacing at the texture. He sends a shiver down his spine that's far too uncomfortable, but he doesn't stop. The material is old, likely to tear at any moment. It wasn't designed to be kept this long. Or at all, for that matter. But he can't bring himself to get rid of it. It's the last thing he has of him that he hasn't thrown away or given back.

Tweak Tweek had a soulmate. And it wasn't Craig Tucker.

Craig Tucker did not have a soulmate. Born without one.

Funny how that works.

Except it wasn't. It wasn't fucking funny, it was cruel. That life would determine such a thing for people. What gave life the right to decide who falls in love and who doesn't?! And how come it saw fit to keep him out of the loop? Why didn't he get fancy ink on skin, stupid flowers growing out of his face, or a damn counter that counts away at the moments until you finally meet your so called forever partner?

Tweek had turned sixteen when it happened. A clock on his wrist began to count down, at first he panicked, because of course he did. It was the first time in years he had actually managed to pull his hair out. Of course Craig was there to calm him down, to put his hat over his head so he could pull the strings instead. Did he still have that hat?

After calming the blond down, they worked together to find out what it meant. Mr. Tweak explained it to his son with Craig sitting right there. Right in front of his partner, the man explained that Tweek had a soulmate. That the timer was going to keep ticking away until he found his soulmate. When it hit zero, they were destined to meet.

Four years, eleven months, twenty-two days.

That was how much time he had left. How much time Craig had left before he lost Tweek to destiny. Stupid fucking unfair destiny.

The whole town had made a spectacle about it when they heard the news, of course Richard Tweak couldn't keep his mouth shut. His gay son was going to lose his boyfriend, because Craig didn't have a timer on his wrist. The only other thing he could say about the whole situation was that the breakup was going to be bad for business.

Craig was determined to prove him wrong, that Tweek wouldn't leave him because of some soulmate bullshit. And at first he was right. Four more years went by and they were still going strong, hell Craig would have said it only brought them closer. Then on the twenty second day of the eleventh month, Tweek met a man who swept him away.

It's been almost a year since that day and he can still smell the coffee in his hair, he can still feel the tears on his face. Those angry defiant tears that came with words that shouldn't have been said. Things he could never take back. No matter how many times he drove his fist into the dirty brick wall, it wouldn't bring him back.

Fuck it.

[bluestar22x]

I Love This Town

The Writing Contest - Chapter 2: I Love This Town

Summary: After weeks of focusing on their screenplay, Javi convinces Nora to take time off to celebrate her birthday.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 5,000 (ish)

Warnings: Fluff, heavy drinking, mentions of drug use (weed), hints of romantic interest and sexual tension

Author’s Note: Giraffes are one of my favorite animals so shocker they ended up in one of my fics. Loved the TLOU giraffe scene.

xxx

"So what are we considering as the catalyst of their reunion?" Javi inquired as he leaned back in his chair, eyes shooting in your direction.

"I can't decide if it should be something dramatic or subtle," you admitted to him, pressing the eraser of the pencil you were playing with in your hands to your lips. You leaned back in your chair as well and stared at the screen of your laptop as if the empty page of word document on it would help you figure it out. It was worth a shot.

He hummed. "What if Angie is in a car accident and that makes Nolan realize how much he still needs her? Wants her?"

You pursed your lips together like you were sucking on an awfully sour candy. "That's so cliché though."

He nodded. "You're right. We go with subtle then?"

"I'd like that," you said, sticking out your bottom lip as you pondered over it, "But I'm not sure how we could go about it. Their argument was pretty intense. I'm not sure if it would make sense for them to get back together over a small gesture or event. You know?"

"Yes, I get that," he replied, licking his lips before sighing. "Maybe we call it a day and see if sleep will help us find some inspiration?"

"It's worth a shot," you agreed, moving to shut down your laptop. It had been a long day writing a very angst heavy portion of your co-written screenplay and you were not about to turn down a quiet night at the guest house that you could use to unwind and catch up on some of your beloved TV shows.

Since you'd started working with Javi on the script a month ago you'd both spent many late nights in the sun room trying to figure out how to tell each step in your characters' journey through life together in such a way that it would be as compelling as the brief overview you'd written down in the short story Sierra had sent him.

It had been very rewarding to see a flushed out version of it on paper, these characters feeling more like friends every time you sat down to skim over what you'd both written previously.

As much as you wanted to make more progress, to get past that bump in the road their relationship was currently facing, sometimes breaks were important. A fresh mind often comes with fresh ideas Sierra had once told you, and it had never been more true for you since you'd let the screenplay consume most of your daily thoughts.

"If we come up with anything overnight we can just jot down the important details on a notepad before we head out to celebrate," Javi figured.

"Celebrate?" you frowned.

"Don't deny it," he said, a grin breaking out on his face. "I know tomorrow's your thirty-fifth birthday, I saw the note marked on your calendar for April eleven, and we're not going to spend it all stuck in this room the whole day. We've made excellent progress and you deserve to have fun on your big day."

"You have something planned?" you asked, surprised. While you and Javi had become great writing partners and good friends over the last few weeks, he wasn't usually a planner. The few times you'd spent together off his property had been spontaneous decisions or trips planned by Walter to help you both de-stress or do some research for the script.

"I do," Javi confirmed brightly. "It's early in the morning though, so I'd advise not to go to bed too late."

"Oh, so it's a surprise," you noted. You weren't big on surprises, but he looked so excited about it you kept that feeling to yourself. "Anything I should know? Like what clothes to wear?"

"Nothing fancy," he answered. "Casual wear you're not afraid to get dirty."

You arched a brow at that. "Are we going to bathe in a mud pit or somethin'?"

You wouldn't put it past him to think that would be a good time. He'd once mentioned to you he was considering it since apparently mud was supposed to be good for the skin. You had restrained yourself from telling him that he already had amazing skin, afraid of it sounding inappropriate for your current relationship.

He chuckled. "Not tomorrow. Though if you'd like that, I could have Walter arrange an appointment for you."

"If I decide that's something I want I'll set it myself," you told him.

Javi smiled, undeterred, used to you refusing to let his manager or any of his other employees assist you beyond cleaning the guest house and occasionally cooking for you. "Of course." He stood from his seat and stretched. "Meet me on the front porch at six am. Bring an overnight bag."

"Okay..." you said slowly. Where exactly was he going to take you? Camping? He wasn't the type.

He reached out over your two desks that were pushed together to give your shoulder a squeeze. "I promise you won't regret it!"

You could have sworn he had an extra bounce in his steps as he exited the room.

Whatever he had in mind, he was clearly certain it would make your day.

You grinned. You were only cautiously optimistic he knew you enough to pull off a pleasant surprise, but him caring enough to try was enough for you.

What had you done to deserve two friends as good as him and Sierra?

x

You barely slept that night, too curious about what Javi had planned. An outing to LA? A play in a theater? A meeting with Nic Cage? You wouldn't put it past him to use your birthday as an excuse to spend more time with the friend he admired. You wouldn't blame him. You weren't the type to get starry-eyed over the famous faces of Hollywood, but you did have a few favorite authors you'd love to sit down and talk with, so you could relate on a certain level.

You were dressed by five, in an old pair of blue jeans, your usual sneakers, and a plain dark green long sleeved shirt. No jewelry besides a pair of small silver studded earrings and limited make up. It wasn't far from your usual style. You were a comfort first kind of person most days.

You were happy you were done early, but tired, even after a cup of coffee. You were also entirely clueless on what to do while waiting for the next hour to pass. You eventually plopped down on the couch with a pen and notepad and started writing out any idea you could come up with for the reunion of the main characters in your screenplay.

You'd compiled a healthy list by the time the living room clock hit six fifty-five and you decided that was close enough. You stuffed the page of written notes into one of your front jean pockets and sprung up to your feet with the most energy you'd gathered in years. You pulled on your fleece jacket and grabbed the overnight bag you'd packed the night before on your way out, locking the main door behind you.

Time for the surprise to be revealed.

It took you three minutes to reach the mansion (you refused to call it a house) by foot, bag slung over your shoulder, and when you did, you were shocked to see a familiar face standing at the top of the porch steps.

"Sierra?" you gaped, halting.

She grinned as soon as your eyes met. "Hey, girl! What's up?"

"What's up?" you repeated incredulously. "What are you doing here?" You began moving towards her again. "And if you're here, where are Buttercup and Tux?"

"I asked your parents to watch them when Javi invited me last week," Sierra explained as you climbed the steps and pulled her into a tight hug. "He paid my ticket here. The limo too. Why would you refuse that? You can lie down comfortably in that thing. So much space."

"I missed you," you told her before you backed away from her.

"We Facetime each other nearly every day," she said, amusement in her voice.

"It's not the same."

"You know who is the same?" Sierra asked. Before you could say anything, she pressed on. "Nic Cage! As interesting as ever. And is it me or does he not seem to age? Maybe he really is a vampire."

"Javi fulfilled his promise," you guessed and she nodded. "When Javi used our connections through Facebook to contact me last week it wasn't just to fly me out. It was also to get my phone number so Nic could call me on video chat. Which he did, yesterday night. Best fifteen minutes of my life."

"Says the person who denied having a crush on him only last month," you teased.

"Okay! Okay," Sierra huffed. "I admit it. I still have a crush. But if you tell anyone in town, I will murder you. Bad enough you told Javi!"

"You sent my story to him without my permission so we're even," you declared.

She beamed at you. "More than worth it."

"So what's Nic up to?" you inquired casually. You could easily ask Javi, since you knew he and Nic called and emailed each other fairly often, but you were a good friend and you wanted to give Sierra a chance to gush all about the conversation they'd had.

"He's in Australia right now," she informed you. "With his family. He's officially back with his ex-wife. He took her and his daughter with him cause he's down there for a couple months to film a new movie. He couldn't give me details, but he told me it's an 'action drama'."

You smirked. "So mysterious."

"Stop it!" Sierra laughed, shoving you a little. "Or I'll pack my bags back up and go home."

"How long are you staying, and where?"

"Two days, three if you count the one I leave," she answered. "I'm staying in the barn loft. It's just like a normal house up there."

"There's a barn?" you frowned. You hadn't seen any barns with lofts on the property. Just the wine barrel storage.

Sierra rolled her eyes. "You've been here for a month and haven't seen the barn? It's on the southern border."

"You'll have to show me later."

"Sure."

You glanced around, searching for Javi, but you couldn't see him from where you were standing.

"So, do you know what Javi has planned for today?" you quizzed.

She snorted and folded her arms. "I'm not a rat. You'll find out soon enough."

You sighed heavily. "Can you at least tell me where he is? He's going to be late."

"He's dressing up," she told you. "Apparently slept through his alarm. He texted me like a minute ago about it and said he was almost ready."

You tapped your fingers on the top railing of the porch and she threw you an annoyed look.

"What?" you exclaimed innocently. "You know I'm bad at waiting."

"Impatient," she corrected you sharply. "You're impatient."

"Whatever."

A few seconds later Javi stepped out through his front door with his own overnight bag's handle gripped in his right hand. He'd clearly styled his naturally wavy hair into a tamer form, but otherwise he was dressed the most casual you'd ever seen him. Just a simple pair of black and white sneakers that couldn't have cost much more than yours, faded blue jeans, and a well used brown button down shirt with faint white stripes running down it. The shirt was unbuttoned by a few and you could see he was wearing a white tank top underneath it.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you greeted him.

He seemed to want to blush at that. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It seems like our thing," you joked.

He chuckled. "Suppose so."

"So where are we headed?" you asked.

He beamed boyishly at you then. "It's a secret." He nodded at Sierra. "I hope you slept well."

"I did," she assured him. "We goin' or what?"

You shot her a look. "Now whose impatient?"

"I can't wait to see your face when you realize where we're going," she admitted.

You had never been more frustrated over friends insisting on a surprise. If Sierra thought you were going to love it, then you definitely were going to. You pouted at her but she just smirked right back at you.

There was the sound of a car driving up to the mansion and you turned around. Correction: limousine. Of course.

Sierra led the way into it and you dipped in to sit between her and Javi on the main seat. She'd been right. It was ridiculously spacey in the back of a limousine. You weren't even touching shoulders with either of them.

The driver greeted you all with a simple good morning and you returned it before he drove away from the vineyard.

You watched as the now familiar scenery of wine valley passed you by, trying to distract yourself from your excitement. It was a cloudy day but that hardly took away from the beauty of the area.

You eventually found yourself at the same airport you'd arrived by a month ago, but Javi didn't lead you to the boarding section for commercial planes, no, he led you past the usual customs line and onto a ramp for private planes.

"Of course," you murmured as you all came to a stop not far from one of the smaller ones. Sierra stomped on your left foot before you got ideas about ranting over how unfriendly private planes were to the environment and how unsafe they were compared to commercial flights. You grunted and let it go. Maybe the surprise would be worth risking your life.

The pilot of the plane, a man about Javi's age, shook his hands and guided you all on board. The plane was fairly basic for a private one. Spacious room for up to four passengers, the largest bathroom you'd ever seen in anything that moved (but was probably modest for a private plane), and a good sized kitchen area where the one waitress was hanging out.

Javi had her bring out a red wine that surprisingly wasn't part of his brand.

"Aged eighty years," he informed you as the waitress poured all of you a glass.

"We're starting early," Sierra noted, picking up one. "I like it."

"All this for me?" you questioned humbly.

"You deserve the best," Javi stated in such a matter-of-fact way that you didn't have the heart to argue.

You pressed your glass to your lips and took a sip. Your eyes widened. It was shockingly better than any wine you'd tasted yet. "Wow."

Javi laughed at your reaction. "Age matters. That's why I've got some of Valley View's wine stored away for when I'm old and a lot more gray."

"Definitely will be milking this glass for...," you trailed off. "How long are we flying? Can I know that?"

"About an hour and a half," he replied, taking a sip of his own. He examined his glass after, eyes going as equally wide as yours had. "That is really good."

You grinned.

x

You couldn't say that the hour and a half flew by, but eventually the flight was over and you and Sierra followed Javi to another limo, one in which you were barred from lowering the windows. They were tinted enough that you couldn't see outside and both your friends wanted it that way.

The ride dragged just like the flight, but finally you got to your destination and hopped out.

You lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when you saw the main gates of a place you'd only heard of.

"You brought me to the San Diego Zoo!" you shouted, astonished.

Javi grinned broadly at the excitement in your voice. "You like?"

"Of course!" You turned to Sierra. "Did you tell him I love zoos?"

"No, he thought of this on his own," she told you.

"You talk of animals so fondly I guessed you would enjoy this place," Javi said. "It's actually one that I donate to regularly. They have a great conservation program."

You hugged him impulsively and he wrapped you up in his arms tightly. You kept it brief, but it was difficult. It was the first time you'd ever embraced him and he was so warm. His broad frame around yours was comforting and he smelled nice. Like citrus fruit.

"Thank you."

He smiled brightly again and your heart soared. "You're welcome, amiga."

"We're having a private guided tour," Sierra informed you, distracting you from him. "You'll get to eat your heart out with all the animal facts about to be thrown at you."

"Dream come true," you declared.

"Nerd," she teased, tugging you towards the front gate.

The tour guide was waiting for you right on the other side of the entrance, and you stuck close by her as she led you all around from one exhibit to another, starting at the front and heading towards the back of the park.

You already knew a lot of what the tour guide told you but it was still amazing to see the animals as you wandered along next to her. You and Sierra took a lot of photos together in front of the paddocks of some of your favorite animals, which included Sierra's ultimate favorites - elephants. Javi got in on a few pictures too, with your encouragement.

It was almost noon when you neared the last exhibit and Sierra handed you a blindfold. You blinked at her.

"My idea," she stated, making hand motions at you to get to it. "Promise it'll be worth the stumbling around."

Once you were blinded by the fabric you looped your left arm through her right and let her drag you to it.

Someone placed something that felt like a branch in your hand then Sierra ripped the blindfold off your head. "Ta-da!"

You gasped. Barely an arm's length away from you were three giraffes looking curiously down at you from over a tall fence. You were on a wooden platform next to it, at chest height to them.

You took a moment to stare at Sierra.

"Don't look at me." She nodded towards Javi. "He figured it out."

"It wasn't difficult to guess giraffes were your favorite animal," he told you with a shrug when you twisted around to lay eyes on him. "You have the stuffed giraffe on your desk and your wallpaper always has one."

You beamed at him. "Thank you, Javi. I never thought I'd ever be this close to one, let alone three!"

He was grinning back at you. "I'm glad you like."

"Like? I love them!"

"They're looking pretty hungry," the guide cut in. "You should offer them the leaves."

You lifted the leaf covered branch in your hand right hand and offered it up to the closest giraffe.

The tan and brown spotted animal swooped its skinny six foot long neck down and immediately started ripping leaves off the branch with its extremely long tongue. The second ducked in to snatch some leaves off of it as well while the first chewed, and the third dove for the leaves on a branch Sierra was holding.

This can't be real, you thought. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd be feeding giraffes. Being so close to the tallest living animals on Earth was thrilling. They were downright majestic, even with their silly, misproportioned features.

"This is amazing," you remarked, making both of your friends' faces light up even more than they had already been.

When the branch in your hand was stripped of all its leaves the guide handed you another one which you accepted gratefully.

"How did you set this up?" you eventually asked Javi.

"The giraffes are one of the few animals the zoo lets people interact with, if you take the right private tour," he explained.

"Cool."

For twenty minutes you hung out at the giraffe paddock, watching them even after you'd run out of leaves to feed them and they'd moved on.

You didn't think you'd ever be able to thank Javi enough for the experience you'd just had. The memory of it would last a lifetime.

x

The private tour at the zoo was just the start of Javi's plans for your special day.

After a lunch on site you took a limo to the zoo's safari park and spent the afternoon watching all kinds of African animals roam a huge savannah like area from a Jeep. It was almost just as magical as feeding the giraffes.

Almost.

The safari was slightly cut short by rain, but it didn't bum you out. You'd had a fantastic day and you were ready to go back to Valley View, but of course, as far as Javi and Sierra were concerned, the day was only half over.

Another limo drive and you found yourself deep in Los Angeles, sharing a luxurious five star hotel room with Sierra. The overnight bag you'd brought finally getting put to use as you both got the chance to wash off the wild animal smells that lingered on your bodies and prepare for the night ahead.

"I'm glad I brought my best dress with me just in case," you told Sierra as you pulled it up over your hips, then your shoulders. It was a simple but elegant classic, a backless with thin black fabric. You had a fancy button down sweater to go with it if it got too cold out that night for your bare arms. "And that you bought me a pair of one inch heels."

"Couldn't let you out in LA in sneakers." She shuttered. "Not where we're going."

"I owe you."

"It's a birthday present," she insisted. "But if you really feel like you need to pay me back, you can buy me a drink tonight."

"Can you tell me where we're going now?" you begged.

"Dinner and dancing in a couple of classy places," she informed you. "That's all I know."

After you helped her zip her little red dress up you both headed for the bathroom to fix your hair. Sierra worked on braiding hers, and you left yours down, choosing to straighten it out.

"So, Javi was really thoughtful planning this day out," Sierra pointed out as she worked away on her hair. "Apparently Walter barely lifted a finger. He wanted to set up almost all of it himself."

"That was nice of him," you commented.

She rolled her eyes at you. "That's all you're going to say?"

"What would you like to hear?" you questioned, giving her a playful smile.

She groaned. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed!"

"What?"

"He's definitely into you," she stated. "He hasn't stopped smiling all day and every time I looked at him he was looking at you."

"Coincidence," you argued, "And he's always smiling. Look up sunshine in the dictionary - he's one of the definitions."

She huffed and shook her head. "Men don't usually spend thousands of dollars on a friend for their birthday, Nora."

"Yeah, but he's rich. They're different."

She sighed. "Are you telling me you're not interested?"

"In Javi?" You shook your head in denial. "Javi's handsome, sure. He's quirky, but sweet. We have a good working relationship and are forming an equally good friendship, but he's not really my type. He's a bit of a man child at times, he's spoiled. His staff do almost everything for him and he has everything he wants. An employee of his told me he was born into wealth, so he's never had to do without anything."

"So?"

"So we'd never work out."

"Soooo, you have thought about it."

You released an exasperated sigh. "I did say he's handsome, did I not?"

She nodded. "You did."

She went silent, but it didn't last long. "You can't know for sure unless you date him. Would it hurt to?"

"Yes, it would!" you answered her sharply, annoyed. "After the screenplay is written, I go back home and I'll have ruined our friendship for nothing."

"You could easily move here," she said.

"I have responsibilities back home," you told her. "I have a life back home."

Sierra rolled her eyes. "Hardly. But if you say so..."

"And he smokes weed," you added like it was a major crime. "Not around me, but I can smell it on him." You hated how he smelled after he'd smoked some. That kind of odor could be picked up from a mile away, you thought.

"That's the deal breaker?" She laughed. "Marijuana's legal in California, Nora. And even if it wasn't, he could have some kind of medical reason for it."

"I think he uses it to calm himself down," you admitted to her. "Seems to help him focus on days he feels extra amped."

"See? Reason."

You shook your head. "Still not going to get involved with someone who lives nowhere near me."

"So stubborn," Sierra muttered.

"That's if he's even into me like that," you added.

"He is," she assured you.

Even though logic told you that it didn't matter, a part of you liked the idea that Javi would be into you, whether Sierra was imagining it or not. You didn't think of yourself as the most desirable woman, and the idea that a man as handsome as Javi would be interested in you like that was flattering, if not a little unbelievable. He certainly couldn't be short on options for girlfriends. Yet he'd been single for a while and continued to be.

You pushed the thought aside. You didn't want to think or argue with Sierra anymore. You just wanted to enjoy the rest of your night, carefree.

"I'm ready," you announced as you applied hairspray in an attempt to keep your hair from curling back.

She nodded at you, understanding that the conversation was over, and flashed you a cheerful smile. "Let's get to it, then."

x

After dinner at a classy restaurant that only served steak meals that cost one hundred dollars or more, the limo driver drove you, Sierra, and Javi to a night club called Club Midnight.

The night club was unlike any bar you'd ever been to. One side was full of expensive black leather lounge couches, the other was full of small glass tables with stools. The back had a huge bar and the side of it was practically one big blue light. A chandelier hung above it, crystals reflecting its golden illumination. At the front a DJ was set up on stage playing electronic dance music like those that were popular ten years ago, along with some hip hop.

The crowd matched the decor and music - a blend of rich and wild. Most were dressed in expensive night-on-the-town clothes, some of which left little to imagination. You got the feeling that though the thin band of leather around one woman's breasts didn't hide much it was still more expensive than your entire dress.

The dance floor was more busy than the seating spaces, mostly full of drunk twenty somethings with inheritances to burn.

"Javi!" you exclaimed, eyes shooting to him, stunned. You'd never imagined him liking this kind of environment. You'd expected a calmer environment, judging by the one wine tasting party he'd thrown at Valley View since you'd been there.

He shrugged at you innocently. "The drinks are very good here."

"Suurrrre," you teased.

"I figured you'd both prefer a livelier crowd than my usual," he added, fixing the collar of his navy button down shirt.

"Uh huh."

You all headed for the bar and you ordered a thank you Vodka shot for Sierra, which she quickly chucked back before Javi bought you all a round. And another. And another, on Sierra's plea.

"Thank you, Javi," she giggled after her fourth shot, a sure sign she was as drunk as a skunk, as your folks back home loved to say.

"Okay..., I think we've had enough liquid courage," you said, leading her away from the bar gently. "Let's hit the dance floor, huh?"

She nodded enthusiastically and followed you into the crowd. Javi wasn't far behind you. The music was popping (was that still the cool term to use?) and it wasn't long before you and Sierra were letting loose, forgetting about everyone else around, or at least not caring how foolish you appeared to be to any onlookers. The wave? The running man? The bend & snap from Legally Blonde? Why not? Dancing was one of those few times you knew how to let go - especially when you'd maybe had one drink too many. You were always a lightweight. You didn't drink straight liquor very often.

Javi was right there with you and Sierra and some of his nonsense dance moves had you both in a fit of giggles. You had to give the guy some credit - he was never afraid of what strangers thought about him, drunk or not. Sure, he was proper when he needed to be, but otherwise he was pretty laid back, and he knew how to have fun apparently. You wished you'd asked for nights on the town before this. It hadn't occurred to you that he'd be interested in dancing before.

Sometime during the night Sierra somehow convinced you to have your fourth shot and you lived to regret it as you started stumbling around the place. There were a couple steps in front of the bar for some stupid reason, and you tripped going up them. Luckily, Javi caught you before you could face plant on the hard tile floor.

He caught you at the waist, arms looping around you from behind, and when he pulled you back up to his chest you had to fight the urge to lean back against him. There was a solidness to him that both comforted you and stirred desire in you, especially in the condition you were in that night.

"Are you alright?" he inquired over the blaring music, his hot breath against your neck making you shiver.

You nodded and he distanced himself from you, one of his large hands still clamped on your shoulder to steady you.

"We should drink some water and head back to the hotel," he decided. "We'll fly home in the mornin' when our heads aren't spinning."

Home. For your entire life every time you'd heard that word you'd immediately thought of your hometown, even when you were living in a dorm for a full year at the University of North Dakota, four hours away from it.

But when he'd said that word to you, in that moment, you'd pictured Valley View. His mansion, the little house you were staying in on his property. For the first time you hadn't thought about your rental in Garrison that was ten minutes away from your parents' house.

When had you started to think of the vineyard as home? Even as the temporary one it was?

You were too drunk to figure it out, and you were too tired to care.

You could worry about that new development on another day.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[blissfulphilospher]

I am just sick of the environment around me where I am never allowed to be what I want to be and it's sickening in a desi household or just not my home but this society and at most places in my country.

I was never allowed to make male friends, I have never been in a relationship with anyone either. Relationship as in where I could talk about it to my parents and friends and the person whom I think I am in a relationship with.

Most of my life growing up I have been surrounded with girls and I think I have always liked girls and it has always been harder for me to approach girls than boys to talk because I am heaven and high level of concious around girls. Where I just want...

I want female validation to feel good. Seriously.

But at the same time I can never tell anyone close to me or immediately that 'yeah I like girls' 'I am bisexual' 'no I— I support LGBTQ, I am a part of it' 'I would marry a girl before a guy'

A lot of people around me have always made fun of queer community, girls flirting with girls but at the word lesbian or bi going 'eww'

But from last couple of years I am in Delhi and people are not that homophobic or I haven't met homophobic people where I used to study and everyone was chill about everything.

Now I am going out of Delhi in a not so developed area because yeah I got a med college. (Yay!) But seriously I am afraid to be what I am because I went to reddit and Instagram and people are just HOMOPHOBIC there with capital everything and it's disgusting and they are just down right abusive and if you say you are a bi they are gonna treat you like a hooker who would so so so want to have threesome with them and their opposite sex partner. It's so disgusting and disturbing.

My heart cries for every LGBTQ+ person in this country and how much the majority just cannot be 'live and let live', they felt threatened by everything which isn't the norm. And especially since this hindutva moment started things are worse and people are cruel in the name of religion which was known to accept all.

I don't think my god hates me for who I am when she made me this way.

Yeah, in my family I have pretended to be like... I am not even heterosexual for my parents because I am not even supposed to like male celebrities or characters because good girls don't do that.

Good girls just pop out babies with a stranger they sell marry you to and never be open about sex at all. Or anything related to that.

My mother blamed me for having periods and I was fucking eleven and haven't even heard the word before because in advertisement they never use blood and I thought I am gonna die because seriously who bleeds from down in there for a eleven year old. My relationship with my mother was so good that I went to school crying and told her nothing and I wore a white skirt and thankfully it was halfday with ptm that day and my mother came but when she saw she was so angry for me getting periods at eleven and I even didn't knew what was happening to me, I thought I was dying. And she never told me but just told me to be quiet about it and bear with it. (gods, I love her but I just don't like her, I understand her but I don't want her to be the way she is) I mean she should have reflected on why I did not told her. But she never did. Because you don't talk about bleeding from your uterus, blood trailing down from your cervix to vagina to thighs to knees to calfs to foot to the floor.

I mean the world would be a better place if we just let people be whoever they are. And let them love whoever they want in a consented manner.

This is really... I just feel so much for women and queer people in this country and how badly we are treated by masses and they call us abusive and weird and what not.

I feel suffocated here and yeah it's polluted and crowded but I wish people were just... Chill. Because I am scared of the people out there. I am scared to be what I am in open because that's just gonna be worse for me and I don't want to live like this.

[writingwitharlo]

Entry Requirement

a/n: whipped this up in one sitting, so anyone should be eternaly grateful. if there are any parts that don't make sense or sound wrong, blame it on the fact that it is now 4am ♡

Summary: Movie night, it's a classic.

Ship: Nick/Charlie

1809 words

Wednesday

"My mum will be out of town on Saturday."

"Hm?"

"I was thinking, we could do that movie night we've been talking about."

"..."

"Charlie."

A nudge of an elbow eventually tore the younger boy away from his essay.

"Look what you've done! Now my 'T' is all squiggly."

Nick simply smiled, shooting innocent eyes at his form partner.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Charlie huffed a little as he tried to save the untidy letter by tracing over it a couple of times. "When?"

"Just now."

Charlie paused and stared blankly at Nick.

Nick chuckled and shook his head. "Movie night, Saturday."

"Oh. Yeah, sounds good." He paused. "Should we invite Tao and Elle?"

Nick shrugged, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. "Do you want to invite them?"

Charlie's eyes flickered down briefly, noticing the fabric of Nick's shirt stretch across the older boy's broad shoulders.

"Uh... Y-Yeah? Well-... Actually, I don't know if we'll be able to settle on anything to watch with Tao there. So, maybe-... Maybe next time."

The corner of Nick's mouth curled upwards and he nodded. "Sounds fair. I was hoping it would only be the two of us."

Charlie felt a flutter in the center of his chest and was unable to hold back the grin that split his face in two. "Yeah?."

Nick nodded, leaning forward and picking up his own pen again. "So, I'll sort out the snacks and you can pick what to watch."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Saturday

Saturday couldn't come early enough. It had been a few weeks since the two had officially started 'going out', but it all still felt pretty surreal to Charlie.

Being paired up with Nick had been the single best thing to ever happen to him. He could even look past all the bad things that had happened over the last months since they brought him right to this point.

"I'm heading out!" Charlie called from where he stood, flattening out his hair in the mirror by the front door.

"Alright! Have fun! Be back by eleven, please!"

"Okay!"

Although the walk to Nick's house took barely 10 minutes, on days like these it felt like an eternity.

Before Charlie even had the chance to reach out for the doorbell, the door swung open.

"Hi!"

"...H-Hi."

Nick grinned. "I was in the kitchen, I saw you coming."

They leaned in for a short kiss.

"Oh, resulted to stalking now, have we?" Charlie teased as he stepped into the house.

Nick scoffed and ruffled the younger boy's hair, knowing fully well he had probably spent the last 20 minutes obsessing over making them lay perfect.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Don't think, just because you're cute, you can get away with everything, Nicholas," Charlie warned teasingly as he hung up his coat and tore off his Converse.

Nick slid his hands into the pockets of his joggers, his head tilting to one side slightly. "Haven't I already?"

The beeping of the microwave cut off any chance for a snarky comeback.

"Oh, the popcorn." Nick rushed to the kitchen, retrieving the hot packet and doing his best not to burn himself as he transferred the contents to a nearby bowl. "So, what did you bring us?"

Charlie pulled an impressive stack of DVD cases out of the bag he had brought, setting them down on the counter. "A bit of everything."

Nick's eyebrows flew up as he stepped closer, already a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "Wow."

"I thought we could start off with something solid, you know, to get the ball rolling; Then move on to something a bit more angsty, something more emotional, and then top it off with a feel-good rom com."

The corners of Nick's mouth bowed downwards as a sign of being impressed. "You really planned this out, haven't you?"

"Just a bit," Charlie admitted coyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nerd." Nick reached out and pinched Charlie's waist as he passed, leading the way to the living room.

With a gasp and a yip, Charlie's arm flew down again. But before he could even process what had happened, the older boy had already disappeared from view. He gathered the cases and followed the sound of a coke can opening.

"So, how come your mum is out of town?"

"Oh, she has this seminar thing for her work to attend. She thought about driving all the way back in the evening but her company said they'd cover all expenses, so she managed to snag a pretty smart room. It's at this old converted farm in the country, so she took Nellie along too. Get her to sniff some new trees."

Charlie smiled as he plopped down next to Nick, their legs brushing together from the movement. It seemed that Nick had not held back on his end of the bargain. The coffee table held a spread of different drinks, confectionaries, chocolates and even one large pizza. The sight made Charlie a little queasy but he pushed it aside for now.

"So, which film you starting us off with then?"

"Avatar."

"Ooh, blue guys. I'm into it. Let's go!"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

2 Movies Later

"Are you crying?"

"Wh- No!"

"Nick."

" 'm not."

"You totally are!"

"Listen, that dog has no right being so chill about his own death!"

"Oh, you're crying about the dog. I thought it had something to do with Owen Wilson."

A watery laugh. "Come on. Anyone with a heart would cry at that scene."

Charlie raised his eyebrows as Nick looked over at him.

"Well, anyone except for you, obviously. You're a heartless knob."

Charlie laughed, smushing himself into the backrest of the couch as he watched Nick use the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe the tears from his face. The older boy rested his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he cleared his throat a couple times to free out the lump that had formed.

"You're a mess." Charlie stated simply. He reached out, his arm coming to lay on top of the backrest while his fingers gently brushed through the other's fair hair.

Nick snorted and rubbed his hands over his face. "I am! You did this to me."

Charlie smirked. "Had I only known about this power earlier, you wo-"

Wham!

A pillow hit the younger boy square in the face. As it dropped to his lap, his face stayed frozen, mouth holding onto the words it had been forming.

Nick looked like he hadn't moved an inch. Only the smug smirk on his lips and the quivering shoulders of silent laughter gave him away.

Charlie slowly recovered and picked up the pillow. Less than two seconds later they were a mess of entangled blankets and limbs, each trying to get the upper hand over the other while shouting and laughing.

"Just admit it! Everyone knows you're a Slytherin anyway!"

"I didn't realise I was talking to the Sorting Hat himself-- Oof!"

The full weight of a 16-year old rugby player landed on top of Charlie, almost knocking all the wind from his lungs. "Jesus."

"I will stay right here until you admit that Marley's death is the saddest in cinematic history."

"Really?"

Nick lifted his head, looking down with mock seriousness. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

"It's honestly kind of hard to tell-"

"Your call, Spring."

Charlie chuckled as the older boy slumped back down against his chest.

The lay in silence for a while, the only sound the music playing over the end-credits and their slightly laboured breathing.

"This is actually kind of nice," Nick mumbled, nuzzling his nose against the other's shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. I see why you use me as a pillow all of the time."

"Let's not let this become a habit though, hm?"

Nick lifted his head. "Why n-Ah! Oi!"

Slender fingers had slipped under the older boy's hoodie and were now pinching at the wearers sides, causing him to jerk and bury his face in Charlie's shoulder.

"Would you look at that. Big rugby boy is ticklish. Who would have thought."

A giggle came as a response as the wandering fingers reached Nick's lower ribs. Nick grabbed onto Charlie's wrists, forcing them back down.

"You're one toho ta-Ah-alk!"

"Sorry, I'm what? Didn't catch that."

Nick's nose scrunched up and in one swift movement he was on his knees, Charlie's hands pinned above his head.

"I said, 'You're one to talk.', Nick replied, cheeks slightly flushed and hair in an untidy mess.

Charlie opened his mouth to reply but the words never made it out. Instead a sharp gasp, followed by a cry, followed by manic cackling filled the room.

Both of Charlie's hands pinned with one of Nick's, the older boy was free to do as he pleased. His large hand easily latched onto the smaller boy's ribcage, even through the jumper he was wearing.

"Nn-aahahah! Ni- Niihiihick!"

"You thought I hadn't noticed? Thought I was just going to let it slide? Perhaps you don't know me very well after all."

"Shahaaahdaahaahp!"

Nick felt a warm fuzziness in his stomach as he watch closely, the squirming boy beneath him. Something about the boisterous laugh and those neat dimples just left him slightly weak in the knees.

This short moment of distraction was all Charlie needed. He managed to free one of his hands out of the death grip and shot it to the nearest spot he could think of to attack. Nick's armpit. Even through the layers of hoodie and t-shirt, the unexpected sensation took the rugby player completely off guard.

His arm buckled and Nick collapsed between Charlie and the back of the couch, shaking his head as no words managed to pass through the wall of wheezy laughter.

Charlie gazed down at Nick's face. This was a sight he was positive he had not seen before. The look of pure euphoria mixed with a hint of agony was not an image he would be able to forget any time soon.

"Truce?"

Nick nodded, trying and failing to squirm away from the ongoing onslaught.

"What was that?" Charlie asked, halting the armpit attack but using his other, now free, hand to brush along the older boy's neck.

"Trucetrucetrucetruce," Nick spluttered, scrunching up his shoulders protectively and swatting at Charlie's hand.

The attack ended. The last remaining giggles subsided and all that was left were huffs of recovering breaths.

Charlie found himself combing his fingers through Nick's hair once more, while the latter nuzzled against his shoulder.

"How did you do that?" Nick mumbled after a few minutes.

"Didn't you hear? All beefy rugby boys must be ridiculously ticklish. It's an entry requirement. Also, did you forget? I have a little brother."

Nick chuckled into Charlie's shoulder, blindly finding a free hand to intertwine his fingers with.

"Why are we like this?"

End.

[cheeriecherry]

Is there any chance we could get a part 2 to the fic where Vik forgets his friend? I’m obsessed

It had been weeks since you’d spoken to Viktor. You saw him most days in the library, while you were reshelving books or working after hours on your own studies: you even saw him in one of your daily classes, but you never interacted. You’re not sure if it’s better or worse than you expected - you’d dreamt of the satisfaction you’d get when you marched into the university and demanded answers from him, but the reality had just been…depressing. The moment you’d laid eyes on him, all the confidence you’d collected over the years had shattered, along with your heart. You’d thought you were over the pain of losing the person you’d loved -replaced all the hurt with anger- but apparently, you were not. Which is why it’s such a nightmare when your professor assigns a group project: to not only judge your collaborative abilities, but your communicative ones as well. And to keep anyone from having an advantage of working with their friends? He had picked your partners for you, and you were assigned to none other than Viktor.

“I can pull my own weight, and I expect you to pull yours,” you’d told him curtly, without allowing him to get a word in. “No excuses, I don’t care if you’re busy - if any of your sections are incomplete by the time we have to hand it in, I’ll notify our professor that you were not able to handle the workload.” The two of you had promptly divvied up the assignment, scheduled your next meeting, and gone your separate ways. It was as smooth as it possibly could have gone, and for a couple of days you’re less stressed about the whole situation than you expected; until he misses your second meeting.

You sit in the library for hours, waiting for him. You’d checked the note you’d previously written the time and date on thrice, but it remained the same: Library, Table Near The Back, 7pm, Wednesday. You try to get some work done while the clock ticks forward, but you’re not able to accomplish much, considering you needed his input to progress in your part of the essay. Am I really so forgettable? You wonder absently, staring at the papers strewn around the desk in front of you. You must be, considering how he’d abandoned and forgotten you previously - skipping out on an assignment was nothing compared to that. So when your wristwatch chirps at eleven, you finally decide to head back to your dorm.

Except when you round the corner of the last bookshelf before the exit, you -quite literally- run into your partner. All at once, papers fly everywhere: yours, his, even some of the textbooks manage to wiggle off the shelves. “Are you fucking kidding me,” you grouch, dropping to your knees to start collecting what you can. Viktor begins to apologize, but you cut him off, “Don’t. You’ve fucking done enough to me already, so just…don’t.” He doesn’t reply, and you take it as a sign to continue sorting your items from his - until he kneels down beside you. “I don’t understand where all your venom is coming from,” he mumbles. “I know I left suddenly, but my letters should have explained everything.” You freeze, and your gaze snaps up to him. He continues, “You’re so angry at me for leaving, but you- you are the one who didn’t show up! I thought perhaps you were having issues getting to the surface, so I waited, and waited some more, and every day for weeks, I did not see your face. I waited for you, and you never came!”

You sit there in silence for several beats, your eyes wide with hurt and confusion. “Viktor,” you cannot keep your voice from quaking when you ask, “What letters?”

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

[sips---tea]

Thraundil x reader // Home again

Thranduil's beloved partner had been missing since a battle at Angmar, pulling Thranduil into great grief. What happens when it is discovered you are not dead and return to your husband.

1617 words

You had been in this dark place for longer than you could record. You remember the battle at Angmar, fighting beside your husband the neverending barrage of orcs and then being distanced from him by seeing your son Legolas in danger. You thought it was won and for a second put your guard down which allowed your leg to be caught by an orc sword and for you to fall and soon lose consciousness. The last thing you saw was your husband, fighting orcs, he had not noticed, too busy fighting to save himself and Legolas from the newest wave of orcs.

You woke in this dark pit, you tried to fight the orcs who would visit you and torture you for their sick, twisted fun. You gained very little food, the orcs only keeping you alive for their humour. Soon however even the orcs stopped coming, leaving you in the dark pit to rot. You were thankful that you had little food and water which you tried to ration to the best of your ability. The thought of home kept you going, of Thranduil, your son and of the beauty of Greenwood, one day you would return.

Once again you tried the door in case somehow it was unlocked. You slump back down, it is still bolted shut. There was little you could do in this place, only think of home, scratch the walls, check your food supply. This was no life for an eleven noble, an eleven (king/Queen), one who had seen the fall of Melkor and fought in many, many wars, this capture was humiliating. You closed your eyes and sighed, you regretted everything and just wished to return, praying to the Valar to save you from the torture you were facing. They seemed to have never answered, you were still here, on a dirty floor in an unknown place.

You heard something. You closed your eyes and sighed, a bird probably, false hope. You shivered and heard the noise again. It sounded like voices? This might be your brain, going mad from isolation, however, your heart skipped a beat and you stood, bashing the door. Muffled voices, you could hardly believe your eyes, as you saw light at the cracks of the door. You stumbled back, terrified that it might be a foe and with nothing to protect yourself with, the only thing you could do was hope and pray the Valar brought you saviours. The door swung open and Gandalf stood in the entrance, his staff held high, illuminating the dark pit you had spent your days in for the first time. Your heart rose and you stood, blinded by the light of the staff. Gandalf's eyes were wide in shock.

"My dear (y/n)" he said. "I thought you were lost"

"I did also" you said, your voice hoarse. You blinked and almost collapsed, Gandalf quickly supporting you. "Where am I?" you asked.

"Amon Lac" Gandalf said, slowly leading you out.

"I do not understand" you said quietly.

"And nor do I" he said quietly. Gandalf led you across a bridge and toward Radagast who stared, confused at the dirty, pale, zombie looking elf Gandalf was supporting.

"Who is this?" Radagast asked in confusion.

"I am returning to the fortress" Gandalf said. "But I must ask that you take (y/n) to the woodland kingdom"

"(y/n) of the woodland realm?" Radagast asked, confused, but realisation dawned on his face. "Oh yes, of course" Radegast busied himself to make sure there's space as you sat heavily on it, exhausted but finally free.

"Will you be okay? Will they be?" Radagast asked.

"If you return them to the woodland realm then they will" Gandalf said, turning to go back into the fortress.

"But what about you?" Radagast called. "What if it is a trap?"

"It is undoubtedly a trap" Gandalf replied, walking back toward Dol Guldur, even more questions now clouding his mind.

Radagast stared for a few moments before looking down at the elf who laid on his sled. In a few moments of muttering, Radagast had started the sled, he was very paranoid you would fall off and was also unsure of what it would be like for you to return. He had seen Thranduil's decline of happiness and his grief from his place in the forest, would you help his grief or would he not believe you were alive.

"Radagast?" you calling his name jumped him out of his trance. "Are my husband and son alive? " you asked.

"Yes they are" Radagast Answered. You smiled, closing your eyes and laying back slightly. You were glad that you could finally see them again, that you could finally go home.

Radagast stopped the sled close to the main gates and looked down at you, worried. "Can you walk the way?" he asked, wishing to as soon as possible send the message to Lothlorien and Rivendell.

You nodded slightly, shakily getting up and smiling, feeling the grass under your feet. "Thank you Radagast," you said. He nodded and left, leaving you alone in the forest you knew so well. Slowly you started to walk toward the doors of the halls of Thranduil, it was a walk you had taken many times alone and with Thranduil beside you. Nothing had seemed to have changed, the grass bouncy and the trees blowing gently in the wind. You breathed heavily, thanking that no longer you breathed in the musty and stale air of Amon Lac.

Slowly you crossed the bridge and were faced by guards on both sides who quickly arrested you for trespassing on the King's land. You didn't fight or struggle, too tired to do so, letting the guards guide you into the halls. It was as you remembered it, nothing had changed apart from new statues, was that you? You didn't have much time to linger, looking at your face, moulded in stone as the guard made sure to keep a fast pace. You recognised the route, you were going to Thranduil.

The guards stopped and dropped you. At this point, you were completely exhausted, without the energy to even try to get up. "Stand" the sound of Thranduil's voice was like music to your ears, his voice was firm and without emotion. You slowly stood, shaking slightly as you slowly looked up at your husband who sat on his throne. He hadn't changed, apart from his eyes. As soon as they met yours they widened in shock.

"Impossible" he whispered, he almost tripped as he rushed down the stairs and pulled you into a hug. "It cannot be you" he whispered as you leaned into him, allowing Thranduil to completely smother you in his chest. You could tell Thranduil was struggling, almost unable to keep the tears back. Quickly he dismissed the guards and guided you down to the floor, still holding you in his arms. He cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes. "Where have you been (y/n)?" he asked in disbelief.

"Gandalf found me" you said quietly. "In Dol Guldur"

Thraundil's face was full of mixed emotions, from disbelief, sadness and confusion. He could not understand, Thraundil had searched for you, day and night through the dead bodies of orcs and elves to find you, to hold your body one last time. He had a funeral for you, he had grieved, he had closed his heart to any further help toward the men of the wood against orcs.

"You have been gone for 150 years" Thraundil said. Your heart stopped at these words.

"No. I" you couldn't believe it. You rested your head against his chest and fainted into it, completely exhausted. Thraundil held you close, not wishing to let you go. He had missed you terribly, losing the fire which kept his heart warm so it froze over and he vowed never again to fight for the needs of men. If he didn't then you would have never gone and would have been with him.

Slowly Thranduil got up and picked you up into his arms. He grimaced at how dirty and matted your hair was. He carried you to the healers who washed you and checked your wounds. Thraundil watching over, cringing at the marks which now littered your body. He found it hard to keep his anger in check, he wanted to hunt down and kill every orc he could get his hands on. He wished he had kept you safe, denied you from fighting in Angmar, he criticised his past self for this as he watched you now, laying on his bed, tucked up in the warm sheets and furs. For the first thirty years, Thraundil did not sleep in his royal chambers, the memories of you and him together being too much to bair, being unable to sleep without you in his arms. Thirty years it took for him to have the courage to enter and sleep in your and his room again, the large bed feeling strangely empty without another presence.

Slowly he sat on the bed, feeling your hair between his fingers. Your hair was now smooth and clean, just as he remembered. He got into bed next to you, listening to your gentle breathing. Valar how he missed this, he missed you. He wrapped his long arms around you immediately moulding into your side. You smelt perfect, just as he remembered, he kissed your cheek and rested his nose against it, glad you were home with him. Thranduil smiled slightly, he should plan a large feast to celebrate you being home, his lover finally back with him. Thranduil closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep, finally happy again.

[cheeriecherrymain]

Prompt: Viktor forgetting his childhood friend (Pt 2)?

It had been weeks since you’d spoken to Viktor. You saw him most days in the library, while you were reshelving books or working after hours on your own studies: you even saw him in one of your daily classes, but you never interacted. You’re not sure if it’s better or worse than you expected - you’d dreamt of the satisfaction you’d get when you marched into the university and demanded answers from him, but the reality had just been…depressing. The moment you’d laid eyes on him, all the confidence you’d collected over the years had shattered, along with your heart. You’d thought you were over the pain of losing the person you’d loved -replaced all the hurt with anger- but apparently, you were not. Which is why it’s such a nightmare when your professor assigns a group project: to not only judge your collaborative abilities, but your communicative ones as well. And to keep anyone from having an advantage of working with their friends? He had picked your partners for you, and you were assigned to none other than Viktor.

“I can pull my own weight, and I expect you to pull yours,” you’d told him curtly, without allowing him to get a word in. “No excuses, I don’t care if you’re busy - if any of your sections are incomplete by the time we have to hand it in, I’ll notify our professor that you were not able to handle the workload.” The two of you had promptly divvied up the assignment, scheduled your next meeting, and gone your separate ways. It was as smooth as it possibly could have gone, and for a couple of days you’re less stressed about the whole situation than you expected; until he misses your second meeting.

You sit in the library for hours, waiting for him. You’d checked the note you’d previously written the time and date on thrice, but it remained the same: Library, Table Near The Back, 7pm, Wednesday. You try to get some work done while the clock ticks forward, but you’re not able to accomplish much, considering you needed his input to progress in your part of the essay. Am I really so forgettable? You wonder absently, staring at the papers strewn around the desk in front of you. You must be, considering how he’d abandoned and forgotten you previously - skipping out on an assignment was nothing compared to that. So when your wristwatch chirps at eleven, you finally decide to head back to your dorm.

Except when you round the corner of the last bookshelf before the exit, you -quite literally- run into your partner. All at once, papers fly everywhere: yours, his, even some of the textbooks manage to wiggle off the shelves. “Are you fucking kidding me,” you grouch, dropping to your knees to start collecting what you can. Viktor begins to apologize, but you cut him off, “Don’t. You’ve fucking done enough to me already, so just…don’t.” He doesn’t reply, and you take it as a sign to continue sorting your items from his - until he kneels down beside you. “I don’t understand where all your venom is coming from,” he mumbles. “I know I left suddenly, but my letters should have explained everything.” You freeze, and your gaze snaps up to him. He continues, “You’re so angry at me for leaving, but you- you are the one who didn’t show up! I thought perhaps you were having issues getting to the surface, so I waited, and waited some more, and every day for weeks, I did not see your face. I waited for you, and you never came!”

You sit there in silence for several beats, your eyes wide with hurt and confusion. “Viktor,” you cannot keep your voice from quaking when you ask, “What letters?”

[i-am-baechu]

The People’s Princess

Paring: Kim Seokjin x reader, Min Yoongi x reader | ♞ | | ♚ | | ♛ |

Genre: Fantasy au, Angst, Romance, and Fluff

Summary: “I, Y/N L/N, take thee Seokjin, to my wedded husband. To have and hold. From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, to cherish and to…to obey. Till death do us part…”    

She looked at the man she barely knew for a month with an emotionless look. She turned towards her family to be met with sorrowful looks. This day was supposed to be the most beautiful day, a moment in a woman’s life that signified a new chapter. A chapter that she no longer wants if he was part of the story.  

Chapters:

Chapter one: “Papa, it’s been two weeks since I last saw him. You see me everyday, something I wish I can offer him. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

Chapter two: “No matter what, the past will always be brought up because of his choices in the present. Not even in the future can one be truly happy when the past is staring right at you.”    

Chapter three: “Any man can be a good one but to be a great one is a task that many are scared to take. With you, any task at hand is easy. Being a good partner comes easy when you’re there staring at me.”

Chapter four: “Seokjin would be lying if he said that princess Y/N was ugly but there was something about her that he needed to know more about.“

Chapter five: “How can a man be so hateful towards others? Even if one has a hard life, it doesn’t excuse his actions. It makes his actions louder than anything he says.”

Chapter six: “They twirled around the room slowly as the music became the conversation between the two.”

Chapter seven: “When the laugh ended Y/N was back right before him but he couldn’t say anything to her or even give the chuckle that he wanted because he was so shocked at what happened.” 

Chapter eight: “War, death, murder, etc...you name it. I need to know this to protect this nation and Y/N...”

Chapter nine: “As they continued, all the memories that they shared flashed before their eyes and it only caused more tears to show. Memories that made Y/N’s heart feel full were now the cause of her pain and vice versa.”

Chapter ten: “Truth be told, he was afraid of the girl.”

Chapter eleven: “There was something there with him but she couldn’t understand what it was nor did she want to because she was scared of the answer.”

Chapter twelve: “Brother? Brother, please open your eyes.” 

Chapter thirteen: “This whole thing isn’t fair to all of us but we have to try and move forward. Regardless of hardships.” 

Chapter fourteen: "Next time you're talking about secrets, lower your voice.” 

Chapter fifteen: “I felt like I was about to lose control. I couldn’t bear to see you get hurt.”

Chapter sixteen: “I promise you....”

Chapter seventeen: “It smells like...home.” 

[timeagainreviews]

The End of an Error

In October 2018, my partner and I visited the city of Nottingham for a convention. As we walked down the streets of that beautiful city, we saw a large billboard with Jodie Whittaker’s orange visage advertising the Doctor Who series eleven premiere. I was so excited that I took a picture and posted it to my Instagram. At the bottom of the billboard were the words “It’s about time.” It was a clever little tagline making both a pun about the program’s time travel element and highlighting how they had finally cast a woman in the role of the Doctor. Earlier this month I took the same trip down to Nottingham and wondered if I would again see a giant Jodie Whittaker, but alas, there was nothing. We did finally get an air date for her final episode that weekend. And I remember thinking “It’s about time.”

Up until the announcement of the release date, the fandom had been quite vocal about the lack of advertising around the centenary episode. Various fan outlets had done more promotion for the show than the BBC itself, which is a far cry from just four years ago. Fan anticipation felt more like frustration, and it’s easy to see why. After a steady decline in ratings and viewership, it feels as though the BBC has very little faith in one of its biggest flagship series. After all, why throw good money after bad? Perhaps they knew it wasn’t worth it. Compare the tepid fan reaction to official photos of the Master as Rasputin and the Cyber Time Lords in Doctor Who Magazine to the excited buzz around some fuzzy pictures of Beep the Meep.

Judging by social media, there are two types of anticipation for Sunday’s upcoming episode. The first type comes from people excited to see the thrilling conclusion to the Chris Chibnall era. The other type comes from people like myself who are thrilled to see the conclusion of the Chris Chibnall era. We’re basically excited about the same thing, but for totally different reasons. They want to see Jodie and Mandip kiss, while we want to see the end credits roll. While I wouldn't mind seeing them kiss, I'm more excited to get what has been an awful four years over with.

It was exactly 1,475 days ago when I had written my first article about my hopes and expectations leading into the Chibnall era. I was so full of hope back then. I even referred to Chibnall as things like “Mr Chibnall.” Even then, however, he was always my greatest worry- the weakest link in a strong chain of talent. At the beginning of every series since I have done an article of this sort. It’s become a bit of a tradition. While “The Power of the Doctor,” is not the beginning of a new series, I felt it merited some reflection before the episode aired. I don’t want my final review of the Chibnall era to become a dissection of it in its entirety either. I’d like to be able to talk about the story on its own merit, if possible.

Three nice things about Chris Chibnall

Growing up, my mom often quoted Thumper from the movie “Bambi’, when he said “If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all.” While I don’t exactly agree with the sentiment, it is a lesson from my childhood that has always reminded me to be kind when possible. No good criticism comes from a place of cruelty, so I thought I might take the time to say three positive things about Chris Chibnall. 

Firstly, the man has an eye for talent. You cannot say that for the last four years, Doctor Who has looked like shit, except where it definitely should (e.g. Sontarans). The shots of the TARDIS in the time vortex are some of the coolest shots to ever grace the screen during a Doctor Who episode. A lot of the visuals felt like callbacks to the first three Doctors’ respective eras. Something which I often praised despite the quality of the episodes involved. Speaking of callbacks to the classics, the music was also a thing to behold. While some people miss Murray Gold, I really enjoyed Segun Akinola’s ambient scores which often felt like homages to the Radiophonic Workshop. His presence as the show’s composer will go greatly missed. Chibnall also gave us great actors in the form of Jo Martin, Bradley Walsh, and even Jodie Whittaker when given the proper material, which is really the crux of the matter. So many people were firing on all cylinders, but it amounts to very little when in service of mediocre writing.

Secondly, the man had ideas. I often times hear people trying to say Chris Chibnall has no good ideas, and I always reply with how wrong that is. Chris Chibnall is a man with loads of ideas, but sadly, not much time and/or ability to explore these ideas. The Doctor becoming a Weeping Angel is a great idea. It’s unfortunate then that it was used primarily as a cliffhanger ending. The idea of the Doctor being a woman is also a great idea. It’s unfortunate then that it rarely ever came up narratively. Even the timeless child storyline has the capacity to be interesting, but instead, it’s a confusing mess that contradicts far too much of what came before. Herein lies the problem of being an ideas man while not being able to go beyond the initial premise- once you do it, you can never do it again. If you fail to explore a brilliant idea, you’ve done nothing but waste its potential.

Thirdly, he has given me and others a greater appreciation for previous eras of Doctor Who. While I said I appreciate the callbacks to the aesthetics of classic stories, the real gift he has given us as fans is that of hindsight. A middling story like “The Sontaran Strategem/The Poison Sky,” seems like a work of art by comparison to the Chibnall era. We see Donna comparing her travels with the Doctor to the quaint neighbourhood where she lives and it tells us more about her character visually than any two Chibnall characters stopping the action dead in its tracks to tell each other how they feel. Simple things like basic character development now feel like precious gems comparatively. I know about as much about Astrid Peth in one episode as I do about Yaz over thirty-one episodes. It’s not that we expect Russell T Davies to blow our minds, but some character development is going to feel like that dank shit compared to the mids Chibnall’s been selling.

If you can’t tell, I told a bit of a lie. Those three things weren’t exactly nice, which I promise wasn’t actually by design. I have been trying to come up with three genuinely nice things to say about Chris Chibnall for months now. Every nice point I came up with always had a sort of caveat. It’s like when the Army tells prospective recruits that they have over 200 jobs and that you only need to find the right one for you. At the end of the day, it all still leads to being in the fucking Army. As much positive spin as you try to put on the situation, it’s all leading back to the reality of the situation- it sucks.

My “hopes” for the centenary

I’ve said it before, and I will continue to say it- I never watch Doctor Who hoping it will be bad. I want to love and enjoy the show as much as the rest of us. But unlike my initial article “The Eve of the Thirteenth,” my expectations are less rooted in hope and more rooted in reality. I would love to enjoy this episode of Doctor Who, but history has shown me time and time again that it’s going to be a mess. With the return of the Master, Bell and Vinder, the writing off of two companions, the re-introduction of at least two classic companions, the Lone Cyberman, the Cyber Time Lords, the likely inclusion of the Fugitive Doctor,  and the death and regeneration of the Doctor, there are a lot of plot threads to tie up. Chris Chibnall couldn’t contain a single story within six episodes, how the hell is he going to manage ninety minutes? Oh God, this is going to be a mess, isn’t it?

All worries and logic aside, if I were to hope against hope, my two biggest desires for the centenary are that the Fugitive Doctor gets a proper send-off, and that Chibnall does no further damage to the show’s mythology. Jo Martin’s Doctor has been a fan favourite, but I have often been left underwhelmed by the show’s portrayal of her character. Unlike the War Doctor, she’s never really gotten a chance for her character to develop. While I don’t mind her being shrouded in mystery, I don’t exactly feel as though the show has given her any proper screen time to be the Doctor. In fact, I’m not even convinced she even is the Doctor, at least not from this universe. If it turns out that, yes, she is the Doctor, I’ll just chalk it up to bad writing and hope someone better comes along and actually gives her something worthy of Jo Martin’s talent. Seriously, why did Jodie Whittaker speak over her monologue in Flux? What a waste of potential. I want so much to like the Fugitive Doctor, but the story has been so piss-poor that I worry it’s up to Big Finish and RTD to do her any sort of justice.

You may laugh at my worry about Chibnall’s ability to damage the mythology of Doctor Who with only one episode left, but considering “The Timeless Children,” was only a single episode, you may understand my reservations. This is further compounded by the fact that Sophie Aldred is returning as Ace, one of my favourite companions from classic Doctor Who. Chibnall screwed up UNIT, the Time Lords, and the Doctor. He even managed to get Tegan wrong by handing her a giant gun and having her joyously blasting away despite her entire reason for leaving the Doctor was gun violence. With any other writer, I would be ecstatic over the return of Ace. With Chibnall, I’m very nervous.

This brings me to my deepest hope for Chibnall’s final story- I hope it’s simply just bad. I hope it’s a mediocre mess that’s boring and unfulfilling. History has shown me the futility of hoping it will secretly be good. So my only real hope is that it’s at the very least- not ruinous. I’ll still be happy to see Sophie Aldred, regardless of who is writing. I’m excited to see Jodie’s farewell. I’m hopeful that the Timeless Child storyline might miraculously make some sort of awesome sense. Maybe it ends in such a way that it actually fixes its many problems and truly does add more mystery to the show. I hope that we never see that stupid fob watch again. I hope they fix the issue of the flux wiping out 99.9% of the universe instead of ignoring it. I hope the Master is lying. I hope the Timeless Child is actually someone interesting like Susan or the Master.  I hope that the best part of the episode won’t be the end credits. I hope that when it’s all over, I’ll have more to say than “It’s about time.”

[kwonhoshi0]

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 | h.c

navigation | requests : open | 5th february 2021

pairing : midoriya, bakugou, todoroki x gn!reader [separate]

genre : angst to fluff

warnings : season 3 spoilers, violence, eating, drinks

themes : heartbreak, idiocy, violence

: since the training camp you had been a target for the league of villains you fought hard to get your classmate back and that made you an instant target since you showed how powerful you can be but that also means no one can know about your relationship with [ - ], if they did that would be mean he’s also a target and the thought of that terrified you, so it’s for the best.. right.

> quirk : telekinesis | eleven stranger things |

[ midoriya ]

> it was no secret that you’re powerful

> deku trained with you a lot so he knew what you were capable of

> he was the one who truly let you embrace your quirk praising you

> he always told you he’s proud of you afterwards

> so when you told him you couldn’t be with him anymore he was devastated

-> scenario

> you had been thinking about the threat of the lov and how much they wanted to get rid of you, it’s a matter of time before people catch you going to cafes and on dates with the green haired boy, since you were getting more publicity each time a villain attacked it was difficult sneaking around

> breaking up with deku never once crossed your mind, only for his safety, he was already a target but they don’t know he’s all mights successor so you’re still a lot more targeted but if the lov found out you’re dating? you could only imagine the worst

> you knocked on his door, he opened it with a smile on his face as usual ‘hey baby’ he pulled you into a hug, noticing you trying not to hug him back he looked at your face ‘hey is something wrong?’

> you were trying so hard to keep a straight face, to make this hurt as much as possible so he wouldn’t come back, you knew if he tried to get you back you wouldn’t be able to resist

> ‘izuku..’ you paused breathing in, ‘we can’t be together anymore’ he looked at you for a couple seconds before breaking out in a laugh, ‘ very funny, don’t say things like that!, we need to finish that series we were watching..wait-’

> your face hadn’t changed, the only different being the small beads forming under your eyes, ‘you’re being serious?’ he said with a shaky voice, his eyes were slightly shiny tears threatening to form, his entire face fell

> ‘i’m sorry’ was all you said before you attempted to leave only being stopped by his hand ‘midoriya let go-’

> ‘not until you tell me why, y/n we’re so happy, you were happy yesterday and now you’re saying you don’t want this anymore? what happened, you told me you loved me, was that a lie’

> you tried so so hard not to sob yelling how much you love him right there but you already started crying

> ‘y-you’re crying, why would you be crying if you don’t care about me, if you didn’t care you would’ve left minutes ago so why’

> ‘izuku i couldn’t keep putting you in fucking danger it’s driving me insane, we can’t go out to eat without worrying someone will recognise us and hunt you down, i need you to be safe and this is the only way’ you pulled your arm away from him wiping away the tears on your cheeks

> he pulled you back towards him his nose touching yours, you didn’t push him away, he took his thumb swiping it across your cheek wiping it of the fresh tears

> ‘then we’ll deal with it together, not apart’

[ bakugou ]

> he knew how you felt because everytime aizawa mentioned being targeted he couldn’t help but notice you not looking at him or glancing at him as much

> you comforted him after each nightmare or any doubts he had after he got kidnapped

> whispering to him while he layed in your arms ‘bakugou you are the strongest person i know, you can’t blame yourself for anything, nobody blames you, they never have’

> you were his comfort, his teddybear

-> scenario

> the last few days you had been distant from him which didn’t make him worry much since you’re both busy sometimes and you both understood that

> but when you refused to look at him and gave him short answers after class he got worried

> ‘y/n, what the fuck is happening’ you couldn’t look him in the eyes

> you put on your best straight face and said ‘bakugou we can’t be together’

> there was silence for a couple seconds

> ‘teddy bear..’

> it hurt, it hurt so bad seeing him upset over you, you couldn’t even comfort him, so you left

> you sat with the dekusquad afraid of running into him and sobbing

> after you left he stood there for a couple seconds, he wiped away a couple tears forming as all the memories of you flashed through his head in a second, he held the necklace you got together, a promise necklace

> he sat at his normal table not talking to anyone only glancing at you, you weren’t talking to anyone either, not even touching the food in front of you

> after a couple minutes you got up and grabbed your bag after the many protests from todoroki and midoriya telling you to eat

> mina saw you getting up ‘hey bakugou is y/n okay?’ he only ignored her watching as you hurried off to what seemed to be the girls bathrooms, mina followed after you. he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t worried

> ‘y/n?.. wait are you okay, come out of the toilets’ she watched as you slowly came out with puffy under eyes and teary eyes ‘oh my god y/n what happened’, you explained everything, how you broke up with him because of how dangerous it was being with him, how he would be safer without you

> ‘y/n i’ve never seen bakugou happier then when he’s with you, if things are meant to be with you two then things will work out, i promise’

> you both walked back to class only to see him and a couple students already there, you weren’t planning on going back to lesson saying you’re injured but you knew aizawa would’ve sent you to recovery girl only for there be nothing to recover from

> you sat in your seat trying your hardest not to cry or move or even glance at him

> he watched you every couple seconds, eyes softening when he noticed a tear drop from your eyes watching as you quickly wiped them away sitting up straight

> he knew you love him but he doesn’t know why you left him

> a couple days past and he couldn’t help but notice how puffy your eyes looked

> he missed you, a lot and his nightmares had increased in the last 3 days

> you did everything to avoid him

> but finally you had to talk to eachother because aizawa paired you up, you asked aizawa if you could swap ‘y/n you and bakugou are great training partners, plus he doesn’t hurt you enough to send you to recovery girl like he does others’

> you sighed walking to your designated training area

> you didn’t want to hurt him more than you have emotionally this past week so you barely tried

> ‘you’re not trying’ he states, you looked up at him regretting it instantly seeing his eyebags and crimson eyes, not twinkling as they usually do

> ‘sorry’ you said quickly getting ready to dodge again

> ‘for what’... ‘huh?’.. ‘what are you sorry for’ he said searching your eyes for an answer

> ‘everything’.. ‘y/n that’s not a fucking answer’ frustrated he walked over to you pulling out a necklace that hid under his shirt

> ‘we got these as a fucking promise, a promise we would always be here, are you even wearing yours’ his hand reached over to your neck, his eyes lit up for a second when he realised you were still wearing it

> ‘i know you still love me, so why the fuck-’

> ‘bakugou you’re in constant fucking danger because of me, we can’t do anything together without having to worry, i want you to find someone that you can be in a normal relationship with, not someone who can’t even go outside with you without fearing the worst’ you let a couple tears slip out wiping them away as fast a they came

> ‘don’t be fucking stupid come here’ he pulled you towards him engulfing you in his scent which you missed greatly, ‘dumbass, we make these fuckin decisions together, which means you have to deal with me, we aren’t breaking up over some stupid villains alright’

> you held him tighter than you have before

> he made sure that for now you order take out rather than going out to eat and when you do go outside you made sure to wear masks and go with some of your classmates

> he does all of this because he loves you that much and he cares that much

[ todoroki ]

> you pined over eachother for months before todoroki had the courage to talk to you

> the conversations always flowed really well and there was no awkward pauses thinking of what to say

> you fit with eachother like a puzzle piece

> since you’re the first person he’s felt this way about you had to, show him affection and how it w o r k s?

> like when you hug him he doesn’t understand why people like hugging until you do it, he feels warm and safe in your arms and he now understands why he sees people hugging a lot

> when you first kissed it was like sparks and fireworks were going off around you, you didn’t plan on kissing him then but you had just hugged him so he was close and you looked up at him as he looked down at you smiling a little, with that you closed the space between you pressing your lips to his

> your relationship since then has been a comfortable and safe relationship for you both, that was until the training camp incident when you realised how much danger you were really putting todoroki in

> aizawa was talking to you in the staff room about the safety precautions you had to take and how you have to be careful with your relationship with todoroki

> a part of you was hoping he’d say you have to break up for safety reasons but he knows you don’t want that, even if it was for the best

> todoroki is going to be an amazing hero who will save thousands of lives and you could be the undoing of that future

> so you had to do it

-> scenario

> ‘hey love, what are we doing outside’ you were stood outside the dorms, you wanted to tell him here just so no one would interrupt

> ‘i uhm..’ this is a lot harder than you thought

> you looked at your feet refusing to look into his eyes knowing you’d breakdown

> ‘todoroki i can’t do this.. anymore’ 

> ‘can’t do what?’ when you didn’t look at him again he realised

> ‘what.. what happened baby we were normal yesterday did i do something wrong?’ you ignored him shifting your feet a little

> ‘do you not love me anymore’ it broke your heart that he thought that, you’re doing this because you love him not because you don’t .. but you had to say this to get him away

> ‘i..no i don’t’

> refusing to look at his face you ran back in tears falling down your cheeks as you ignored your friends asking if you’re okay and shut yourself in your room

> no more laying on his chest while you talk about random things at 3am, no more feeding him soba and no more holding hands running in the rain

> it was all too good to be true and now it’s over

> the next couple weeks you wanted to see him, check how he was doing but you couldn’t so you stuck to quick glances, sometimes you met his eyes in the process cursing at yourself

> your friends noticed you were off, ochako midoriya and iida asked why you weren’t hanging out with them

> you didn’t want to cause todoroki more pain so you hung out with the bakusquad so todoroki could stick with his friends without it being awkward

> you’re already friends with some of the bakusquad but you just didn’t hang out with them as much

> ‘y/n why do you look so.. lifeless’ denki asked you, you would usually be happy to talk to people and be playful but recently you had just stared at your food and soba only to be reminded of him

> ‘i don’t know’ you lied, your friends were worried about you

> todoroki was good at hiding things, he was a lot happier with you smiling while with you and around you but now he doesn’t have you

> a part of you thought he was over it already but you knew that was just you overthinking it

> ‘you know what, we should have a class movie night !, mopey you’re coming’ you looked at mina for a second before realising you’re who she’s talking to

> ‘mopey’ you raised a brow, ‘yeah you haven’t been yourself lately we want the old y/n back!! ..you haven’t even gamed with us’ kirishima spoke up making you smile sadly

> and then you realised todoroki probably won’t be at the movie night since he only went because of you ‘okay, ill go’

> that night you sat inbetween denki and bakugou scrolling through your phone while the dekubakusquad picked a movie

> ‘hey dumbass, why’d you look so fuckin dead’

> ‘not sure’.... ‘that’s bullshit’ he responded staring at his own phone

> ‘mhm’ was all you could say before the movie started

> as you looked up you realised todoroki was sitting in front of you

> how were you going to get through this..

> the movie begun and you quickly realised it was one of your favourite movies, it was the movie that you and todoroki had your first kiss watching

> clearing your head of these thoughts you carried on watching

> half an hour later it got to the part where the guy finally kisses his crush and you felt tears in your eyes, holding them back as you remembered todoroki kissing you during this scene

> you felt someone move from in front of you, your eyes widening as todoroki took your arm pulling you up close to him

> ‘what are you-’

> ‘y/n i chose this movie because i wanted to be able to do this again’ he cupped your cheeks smashing his lips to yours, you couldn’t pull away this is all you wanted and missed

> as you both pulled away he said ‘i know you don’t love me but i want to help you learn to love me again and i prom-’ you cut him off as you felt guilt bubble up inside of you remembering what you said

> ‘i lied.. i said that i didn’t love you because i needed you to leave, i broke up with you because of the target, i can’t have someone finding out about us and using you and hurting you as a way to get to me i would be taking away your chance at becoming a great hero, i can’t do that it’s selfish’

> he looked at you as the sides of his lips curled up in a small smile

> ‘a part of me should be mad at you for breaking up with me because of hero stuff but i understand, i’m relieved you love me, i love you and you love me that’s why we’re going to be careful and make this work’

A/N :

pain only pain, why do i do this

taglist : @blazedbakugou @todoroki-shoto-is-life @luluwiie

[atinyidea]

Heartworm | Choi San

n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smouldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⟶ college!au, best friend!san, brother!seonghwa, friends to lovers!au, kinda very spicy but there’s no actual smut, there’s mentions of underage drinking and sexual encounters, everything is consentual!

⟶ appellation series masterlist

⟶ 5.7k words

600 special prompt for my lovely soul partner @san–shine, its like 50 years late and I know she no longer is active on this blog but I wanted to keep this.

42: “Exactly how drunk was I?”

49: “Good morning, sunshine.”

☞ When you were younger, you knew you were one-hundred per cent in love with your best friend, Choi San. However, because he was also, in fact, your brother’s best friend and you were a sixteen-year-old rebel adamant to never admit your feelings, you had to watch as he got his first girlfriend during a party Seonghwa had thrown for you. Now, years later and in the middle of college, you find yourself in a familiar setting: a party thrown for you by your brother and Choi San looking as breathtaking as he always does.

☞ moodboard

Just to be clear, when you woke up, you hadn’t expected your brother to announce that there was going to be a party held at your house for your twenty-second birthday. Your brother, being the kind and loving brother he was, had yet again used your birthday as an excuse to throw a house party, even though it wasn’t even your birthday until tomorrow. Seonghwa liked to use your birthday, the date falling in the last week of the summer holidays, as a way to gather all your combined friends as some sort of final summer get-together before the school year began again. You weren’t particularly against them, the end of summer parties becoming a little tradition after the fourth year running, and the fact that they were held at your house meant you could just go to bed any time you wanted. [ thank you sound-proofed home as per your mothers request due to your fathers’ noise-making habits from his job as a musician. ] Though it wasn’t like you knew anyone who would be throwing a house party you couldn’t just walk home from.

You did not know how many drinks you had consumed, alcoholic or otherwise, but the setting you found yourself in was giving you very explicit pangs of nostalgia to the first time you and your brother had thrown one of these parties. Your current situation was not unlike the situations you had been in before. You weren’t ashamed to say that you liked to have fun with your relationships: romantic, platonic or the just-once ones. It wasn’t unusual for you to be found in someone’s lap around midnight; the last party happened to be a beautiful girl named Soojin, the party before that was a guy whose name you hadn’t bothered to remember. However, the person’s lap who you sat in usually was not your best friend, Choi San’s. Not the San you spent the better half of your life burying romantic feelings for because he was Seongwha’s friend first. Not the San, your eyes couldn’t help watch whenever he was near. You made a promise to yourself since that one time when you had just turned sixteen, the one time you found yourself on his lap. [ A promise you made to deny your feelings because the very next day, he had gotten a girlfriend who was definitely not you. ]

At seventeen years old, San knew he was still a stupid and hormonal teenage boy. He practically got nose bleeds anytime he remotely saw a girl's lower back or tummy, their exposed thighs or neck: he knew he could be a perverted little shit. Still, having a girl for a best friend meant that he also knew what was respectful and what was just disgusting – thinking back on it, he was grateful for his friendship with you for teaching him from a young age how to treat girls with proper respect. [ Mainly because you would whack his head or punch him in the balls whenever he said something inappropriate or did something stupid. ] But, also at sixteen, San knew that he was also sorta-kinda-probably in love with his best friend’s sister. [ Who was also his best friend… was it possible to have more than one best friend? ]

During the summer of your sixteenth, Seonghwa’s eighteenth and his seventeenth birthdays, San and his family had gone overseas for an extended holiday. His father had received a promotion, and his mother struck lucky in her weekly lottery draw, so he hadn’t been there to witness the gradual changes to your body. It wasn’t like San wasn’t attracted to you before [ not that either of you knew what the fuck attraction was before ] but when you came to the airport to pick him up with your father, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to look at another girl ever again. [ Of course, that was an overdramatic thought since he proceeded to have girlfriends that weren’t you but the thought of you truly never left his mind. ]

The day of your sixteenth birthday party was something he would always remember clearly. He remembered the way you hugged him for a solid five minutes when he got to your house in the early morning, complaining about how your parents would still be away for another few days, and your brother refused to even hug you on your birthday. [ Seonghwa’s excuse was that it was your birthday tomorrow, and that was when you could claim the birthday hug. ] Secretly, he wished you would tell him you hugged him simply because you wanted to have him close. He remembered how Seonghwa had launched into a story from his last house party (one for the seniors that only he was invited to, but the stories were fun nevertheless) as he attempted to make pancakes at your request. You had bounced your way to your favourite countertop space and jumped up to sit there, right in front of the fridge, because it was the only place that was both cool and warm [ “exactly the right temperature” ] in the entire kitchen. He remembered the way his body slotted between your legs, his back to your chest as the two of you shared a vodka-and-coke at ten-in-the-morning. His mind was restlessly deciding if it was okay to lay his hands on your knees or calves, inevitably switching between the two places every five minutes. It hadn’t felt weird but natural as all three of you shared hearty laughs and then partially burnt pancakes.

[ He remembered when he had given you the small-and-terribly-wrapped box that held your present, egging you on to open it a day early. The way your face lit up as you lifted a thin silver chained sunflower charm bracelet into the air would forever be imprinted on his eyes – your eyes sparkling and lips twitching up into a wide grin as you thanked him seven times. The gentle tone of your voice as you asked him to help you put it on because for some reason, you couldn’t put clasped bracelets on for the life of you, was saved like a voice note in his brain. “You remembered,” you had whispered once he was settled back between your legs, “that sunflowers were my favourite, I mean.” The brush of your lips on his cheek lined the walls of his heart as it threatened to shatter through his ribs. ]

As a sixteen-year-old San knew that you probably shouldn’t’ve had as much alcohol as you had that night. However, as a seventeen-year-old San also didn’t care as long as you were having fun. It was not the first time you consumed alcohol, but it was the first time you’d had enough to get drunk from it. It was your sixteenth birthday party after all, and neither your brother nor your best friend had any objections when you grabbed the first vodka-and-coke at ten in the morning while you got ready. So now, at almost eleven at night, you had had more than ten of those drinks, and you could honestly say you weren’t sure if you’d remember anything from this night at all. The hours went by in a blur, and soon three drinks had turned into eight as you dragged San to your room to decide on an outfit for the night. He remembered the way his throat constricted as you strolled out from your bathroom in a neon green crop top and the pair of flare jeans you always wore. Ultimately San thought he would’ve preferred that outfit to the one you settled on – a black denim mini-skirt with a matching jacket on top of a simple t-shirt with a neon rainbow painted across the chest. The sliver of skin showing from the crop top was way less tempting than the muscle of your thighs, mainly since that was your exact plan for the outfit.

“You look good,” he had said, swallowing gulps of air and saliva when you asked, “you’d still look good in a potato sack,” he complimented you as you twirled on the spot and gifted him with a brilliant grin that simply took his breath away.

“We match!” You all but squealed when you took note of the black denim jacket San wore over his t-shirt with a neon rainbow across the chest.

He hadn’t even noticed.

His memory started to get hazy around drink number thirteen. He couldn’t remember how or what events had led to the current situation, [ or which room the two of you were actually in that was both not your bedroom and also not inhabited by literally anyone else ], but he certainly was not complaining. You were so close to him he could smell the faintest scent of your vanilla and cinnamon shampoo and conditioner you had used the day before, the slightest whiff of your jasmine scented perfume [ the one you always wore, the one he bought you your first bottle of ] and the sweetly bitter smell of cherry coke and vodka on your breath. His hands seemed glued to your lower back and hips, palms almost moulded to your skin like he were a sculptor, and you were his latest masterpiece. Your legs either side of his own, wrapping around him possessively, like he was yours and only yours, and he let you, using his hands to pull you closer to him like you were his and only his. Your faces were so close he could feel each hot exhale of breath hitting his lips, and when they stopped as you shivered and whined, he couldn’t help the way his lips tilted upwards into a smirk. The way you attempted to wire your mouth shut not to make a sound wasn’t effective, seeing as he heard all three of your whines, each one getting more prolonged and higher in pitch as the two of you continued your ministrations. His hips wanted to jut up into you. Still, he forced his movements to be as slow and smooth as possible, wanting to feel every way you would come undone above him, but when his gaze flickered across your face. He spotted the small trickle of blood falling from your lips; it was like everything that had just happened had disappeared.

From your recollection, you only remembered specific parts of that night. Your legs had been situated on either side of his thighs, your arms wrapped around his neck as his palms slowly pushed up the small of your back to pull your body closer to his. Your faces were so close you could physically see the connection between the two of you, yet neither of you pushed forward enough to make that connection real and tangible. [ You wanted to, God, you wanted to kiss him right then more than anything. Why didn’t you kiss him then? ] San’s hands felt hot against your skin, his fingertips slowly moving to draw a masterpiece on your back. You shivered slightly as a slight breeze floated around the sliver of exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up. Your eyes were drawn to San’s lips as they twitched up into a slight smirk; his own eyes flickered to watch you watch him. Neither of you had said a word to each other for almost half an hour, drunkenly pushing at the limits between your friendship with nothing but burning touches and delicate twists of hips.

You subconsciously sucked your bottom lip into the confines of your teeth, but you willingly bit down harshly to stop a sly whine from escaping your lips as San had the cocky idea to roll his pelvis into yours as he held you in place with his hands on your hips. Apparently, you had bitten down way too hard because the next thing you knew was that San’s playful smirk had evaporated into a concerned frown. He lifted a hand from your hip – the sudden rush of cold where his hand previously was leaving you feeling a sense of loss – to your lip, his thumb tugging your lip back out.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbled, thumb coming away with a smear of blood moulding into his fingerprint. The taste of blood in your mouth was unexpected and had sent you reeling. You almost flew off of his lap and practically ran to your bedroom’s bathroom to inspect the damage. There was a tear in the side of your bottom lip. [ The side of your lip you always bit out of habit, so the skin was thinner there than the rest of your lip. ] Against your better judgment – the rational part of your brain was too drunk at that moment – you settled your tongue against the fresh cut. Finching away from yourself at the unexpected [ which really should’ve been expected ] pain, you decided that there was nothing you could do to help soothe it. After twenty minutes, that felt like two, of staring at yourself in the mirror, you finally shrugged and made your way back into the heart of the party.

As an almost sixteen-year-old, you knew you were just coming into figuring out your body and the emotions of more physical relationships as you grew into it. You knew you had grown up a little (a lot) over the summer, your chest filling out from a b-cup to a c-cup, your lanky figure could no longer be considered lanky as your limbs gained muscle, fat and tone, creating a new full and curvy figure. Your mother had been ecstatic when you came to her asking how to style clothes to fit your ‘new’ figure as it meant the two of you could go shopping [ one of her favourite activities ], and you could find your style that both suited your body and personality. You did have to admit that your style didn’t change much; you still loved a sturdy flannel shirt [ always oversized though, now you tended to wear it open with a form-fitting crop top or spaghetti-strap top underneath to show off your chest and waist ] and you still loved your favourite pair of flare jeans enough to wear them almost every other day, [ the one with the painted sunflower over the back pocket. ] You also loved pleated mini skirts and knee-high socks or a simple loose-form-fitting dress with lycra cycle shorts underneath. You didn’t like the emotional side of your summer changes, though and, while you were new to the whole attraction thing, the one person you definitely didn’t feel anything remotely romantic for was your best friend. [ Well, maybe you did, but he was Seonghwa’s friend first, and that was a no-go… and perhaps you wanted to reject the way your heart turned into butterflies when you saw him at the airport… and maybe you just weren’t ready to put those feelings into words, so you denied them instead. ]

Your best friend whose lap you were just sat on, grinding your hips into his with your noses touching. Your best friend who was now kissing another girl [a beautiful girl who was named Hyemi, she was in Seonghwa’s class and also happened to live across the road… she was always nice to you and you couldn’t find it in you to dislike her even as your stomach knotted and twisted into something green with envy ] in the middle of the kitchen. You wouldn’t remember how long you stood there, watching the two of them kiss like a complete and utter creep, and you wouldn’t remember the look San gave you as he noticed the sway of your hair as you retreated out of the kitchen with a frown on your brow.

You did not fancy your best friend, and you definitely did not care that he was kissing Hyemi in front of the fridge. [ The fridge he stood between your legs in front of literal hours ago. ] Lastly, you definitely did not feel like crying as your mind reminded you about two different memories of earlier that day – one of you sat on the counter opposite that exact fridge with San leaning back into you as he gave you the sunflower charm bracelet that wrapped around your wrist, watching Seonghwa attempt to make you birthday pancakes. The second the memory of his hands burning up your skin, the way his lips tilted into a smirk when you shivered under his hold and the way you inflicted pain to yourself in an attempt not to whine with pleasure at the way he moved his hips.

It was too raw, and now you just wanted to forget.

San’s brain refused to calculate time because one minute his hand was reaching for your bloodied lip and the next you were gone, and San was back in the kitchen getting you a glass of water [ and then he was kissing another girl in front of the fridge he rested between your legs literal hours ago. ] San wouldn’t remember what their conversation had been, only that this girl, Hyemi, was older than him and had just asked him out. He wouldn’t remember the exact way her grin turned a little too malicious to be sincere. He would, however, remember the way your hair flew over your shoulder as you spun away from the scene involving him; he would remember the way his eyes followed your figure all the way into the embrace of your brother as you shallowly smiled and stole his drink [ and he would remember the way his chest seemed to ache at that simple action. ]

Hyemi became his girlfriend at that same party; you didn’t even know they knew each other. He didn’t even know why he said yes.

And here you were, on the penultimate night before your twenty-second birthday, in the lap of your best friend. His relationship with Hyemi had lasted six months, and he had gotten six more significant others in the seven-year gap from then til now but, right then, he was single, and you were in his lap. You had flopped down over the side of a two-seater couch; eyes screwed shut with laughter, so you didn’t realise who was sat on said couch – or that anyone was – until your head made contact with their thigh. [ Their thigh was very comfy to lay on, which was the first thing your brain commented on. ] When you looked up and met eyes with San, a small [ tiny really, in no way visible to the person who knew you best and where to look for a blush – finding it immediately ] blush was growing warmly over your cheeks.

“Hey there,” He grinned, setting down his plastic cup, [ more like throwing it over his shoulder, not caring that it hit someone since it was mostly empty anyway ] and poking your nose gently just to watch the way it would scrunch up. His fingers were moving from your nose to his ear to make sure the roll-up cigarette that was balanced there hadn’t fallen.

“Hi,” you giggled, your legs curling up to your chest, making you look like a contorted cat as your feet still dangled slightly over the arm of the chair. After a few seconds, your fingers started twitching and settled on playing with the fabric of his shirt. It was the same rainbow one he wore to your sixteenth party, matching the one you were wearing too. The both of you had grown out of them, San settling on cutting it into a crop top and you doing the same, [ since you were the one who had actually cut San’s shirt and decided to continue and do yours, so you matched again. ] His shirt gave little to cover, showing off his abdominals and tummy [ and the slight happy trail peeking out from the waistband of his jeans ] proudly and only just covering his pectorals. Your own shirt was cut higher, stopping just above the curve of your breasts. Still, your own torso was covered in a neon green fishnet bodysuit [ not that it left anything to the imagination, your torso was still on show ] that was tucked into your signature flare pants which now rode a little low on your hips and the sunflower on the back was more than a little faded.

“What are you doing?” He asked with an amused grin, [ complemented with the subtle raise of a singular eyebrow… Gods, why was he so attractive? ] one hands fingers starting to twist in the loose strands of your short hairstyle. It was nice. [ The touch of his hands against your hair was excellent, the slight tug of the strands against your skull felt really nice. ]

“Taking a break. Siyeon, Minji and Yunho broke out the karaoke machine, and they're playing the song shots game.” You replied as if it explained everything. [ It actually kind of did, San recalled you once telling him that the chaotic energy of that particular trio and the song shots game gave you awful headaches. And you hated having headaches when you were drinking because it made you nauseous. And when you were nauseous and drunk, you tended to go have a smoke, which you were trying extremely hard to stop doing for the sake of your father, who also used to smoke and now had lung problems. So, San understood your meaning. ] “What about you?”

San had to take a minute to think. Just what was he doing? Why was he so out of it today? In his heart, San knew the answer, but he hadn’t unlocked that treasure chest just yet. [ He was tired of watching you be semi-intimate with people that weren’t him… Which he refused to admit. Because both of you were pinning assholes in denial. ] Finally, even though it had only been a minute, he replied with a simple “I’m just… sitting.”

“Oh?” You asked, now it was your turn to raise the amused eyebrow, “just sitting?”

“Sitting... and thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.” The word was out faster than San’s brain had time to process what he’d said. However, now he had said it, he wasn’t going to deny it. Was it the small amount of alcohol in his system? [ It was the way your eyes widened a little as you looked up at him from your place in his lap, fingers twisting in his shirt and lips falling open ever so slightly. ]

“Me?” Your pitch ascended as the volume of your voice diminished.

“Yeah, you!” He grinned, tone equally as quiet but still showing enthusiasm, moving his free hand to boop your nose.

“What about me?”

San’s fingers in your hair froze at your question, his mind whirring with any kind of answer that wouldn’t cross the line into confession territory wherein he would lose your friendship indefinitely, but after one look at the serious longing look in your eye, he decided he would ‘man up’ [ the phrase making him cringe as soon as he thought it… the connotation of the word being so outdated and, for someone who grew up with a very stubborn girl in his life, San wondered why society hadn’t come up with a suitable alternative to the phrase ] and just tell you.

So he did.

“Do you remember what happened between us at your sixteenth party?” He asked, seemingly changing the conversation topic. Confused but going with it, a slight blush warming your cheeks, you nodded, and he took that as permission to continue, “I can’t stop thinking about it.” His voice was nothing louder than a whisper, you should’ve had to strain your ears to hear him, but at that moment, it was like all other sounds and distractions faded from the scene. Your breath hitched as you simply stared up into his eyes, his pupils dilated, almost taking over the beautiful swirling colour of his irises [ making his eyes look darker than usual, more intense than expected, and for a second, you swore your heart stopped ].

“What about it?” Your question was innocent enough, but the way you said it gave way to other ideas. Your voice was soft and breathy, like you weren’t getting enough oxygen, and like San, the words weren’t said above a whisper. Afterwards, you bit down softly on your bottom lip [ unintentional on your part, it was just a habit of yours, to be honest ], minutely sucking it in, and San’s focus shifted to watch your lips specifically.

“I’m thinking about how much I’d like to do it again.”

“You want to kiss me?”

“If you’d let me.”

“Please kiss me.” You whispered, more a statement rather than a question or demand. And so he did, leaning forward to reach you, head still in his lap, [ it felt like a slow-motion scene in a movie, but it couldn’t have been longer than two seconds before his lips were flush against yours ]. It was not the first time the two of you had kissed, but it was the first time you had kissed since becoming official adults — it felt different.

It felt good.

His lips were soft, and his kiss was gentle, at least it was at first. As the seconds ticked on, the kiss grew more intense, the soft brush of his lips pressed harder into you, his hands running over your body to pull you up to him. Your arms threaded around his neck, stretching out your torso [ if you were honest, it hurt a little… not that you were lucid enough to be aware of it ] and arching your back. He bit down on your bottom lip, tugging at it a little when your fingers twisted through the hair at his neck, pulling him to you with a new sense of desperation.

And then the two of you fell off the couch. You slid off his lap and landed on your back [ though it was more like you were on your side than your back ] while San rolled over on top of you. Both of you froze in your positions, eyes wide, [ pupils dilated but that was most likely due to the desire flowing through you ] lips parted as you just stared at one another for a second. San was the first to crack the silence, lips pulling into a grin and eyes crinkling with joy as his laugh sounded out around you. He flipped off from on top of you, landing next to you on the floor but his smile never dimmed and his laugh hadn’t faded. You rolled slightly so you were actually on your side as you continued to look at him. When he looked back at you your heart skipped a beat, his smile was so pretty and it made his dimple so deep but it wasn’t long before his laughter simmered and his expression faded as he looked back at you.

Biting your lip once again you made an executive decision [ the only decision you could think off, since all thoughts were now preoccupied with San at the moment ] to lift yourself to hover over him this time. You swallowed and let out a breath as your eyes met, searching for any sign that you should stop. Your shaking breath cut out into a soft gasp as San’s hands caressed over the small of your back to pull you down so that your chests touched. Your right hand lifted up to take hold of the cigarette tucked behind his ear, [ a small giggle leaving your lips at the thought that it was still there even after all that ] and twisted it between your fingers a little. Was it a nervous habit or just a neat trick, you couldn’t distinguish at the moment. San’s own hand came to hold yours, two sets of fingers now playing with the home-made roll-up gently. Soon enough San took it from your shallow grip and flicked it across the room, using the same hand to cup your jaw to cirect your gaze back to him.

Meeting his eyes made you want to shy away from his gaze but you let him keep you there. He looked at you with such a strong emotion you though you’d possibly be able to taste it from his lips. “I have to tell you something…” You whispered, close enough to not have to raise your voice.

“What is it?” He whispered back, the fingers on your back drawing small circles as the hand at you jaw left to curl a strand of hair around his fingers in the opposite direction. [ how he did that subconsciously and not mess it up would’ve made your head spin in wonder ].

“I love you.” You began, still whispering. “I have for a long time, though in the beginning I tried rather hard to deny it. Mainly because you had a significant other and I didn’t want to ruin that for you. And then, in a rather dick move, I got a significant other in the hopes of stopping it but that didn’t work so I stopped getting into romantic relationships altogether and now-”

He cut you off, pulling you into him to kiss the words from your lips [ which you appreciated because your inner thoughts were beginning to panic because your mouth wouldn’t stop talking ]. When you separated his smile was back, albeit not as wide as before. His eyes were as soft as his smile as he kissed you once more, resting your foreheads together. “I love you too,” he said against your lips. At his words you surged forward, pressing into him with fierce emotion as your kissed him.

You had wanted to hear those words from his lips for so long. You had wanted him for so long. And here he was, right in your reach, his hands on your body and yours tugging gently at his hair. Before all the breath in your lungs had finished and you lost your conscious nerve to a blur of desire those word had repeated at least thrice as you made your way to the comfort of your bed and the warmth of his body.

The next day when you woke up, you woke up earlier than usual and feeling unusually chipper as you took a hot shower. The subtly sweet scent of pancakes met you as you made your way through the house and into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Sunshine, you’re up early,” your brother grinned over his shoulder, both hands currently busy holding a pan and spatula. “I made pancakes.”

“Yes, I can see that.” You returned his grin with one of your own, a teasing smile lifting to your lips as you took a seat. Your head was clear of any headaches or lingering pain from a hangover since you were better with your alcohol intake as a twenty-two-year-old, and your reckless youth had lined your stomach with a fair amount of tolerance.

“Exactly how drunk was I last night? I don’t remember anyone leaving.”

“Oh boy,” Seonghwa sniggered, a sly grin taking over his features, “the party was two days ago, you slept all day yesterday. Really freaked San out.”

“What?!” You exclaimed, a piece of pancake falling from your fingers back onto your plate, bouncing off and onto the side sadly. [ It went ignored as you stared down your brother. ]

“Yeah. And he’s been ramble-muttering about you for a solid ten hours now. He’s really not subtle at all.” Seonghwa grinned. “So now that you two have slept together, are you two actually together?”

If you had liquid in your mouth, you would have spat it out. “He told you?!” You exclaimed, heart racing at the thought of your best friend and your brother discussing your sex-life.

“No.” Seonghwa denied immediately, face scrunching up in disgust at the mere thought, “I definitely don’t need to know details about that. It’s just San isn’t subtle at all when he’s mutter-rambling. He was oblivious to the fact he was thinking out loud about how to move forward after your… time together… while I literally sat next to him.” Seonghwa then grinned at you, again, the stretch of his lips becoming a little too mischievous for your liking. “Pretty sure he passed out on the couch half an hour ago.” He hinted, motioning over to the living room with his head as his eyebrows wiggled up and down suggestively.

A puff of air exhaled through your nose as a small smile climbed over your lips. You opened your mouth to talk, but he cut you off with a gentle pat on the head, “I’m happy for you two,” was all he said but it was enough. [ Your heart soared at the approval of your brother. It was not that you nor San needed Seonghwa’s approval, but it was nice to know he wouldn’t oppose it. ] Then you made your way to the couch San was asleep on.

You sat next to him, in the space unoccupied by his body. His brow was furrowed, which you frowned at. You lifted a hand and gently pressed on the juncture between his eyebrows, smoothing them out. His face instantly relaxed under your touch [ a part of your mind daydreamed that it was because he knew it was you ] and a small smith lifted upon your lips. Your hand moved down to cup his cheek and then his jaw before you raised it to gently wipe away the hair that had fallen in his face. You bit down on your lip, confused on whether to wake him up or not but life had chosen for you as one by one San’s eyes opened and slowly focused on you.

His eyes widened, and in a flurry of limbs suddenly he was laying on his back on the floor while you had balanced yourself with your knees over his waist. After a second of shocked silence [ as the two of you came to terms with what the fuck just happened ] a grin spread across his lips, eyes crinkling in delight, as his hands came to grip your hips gently.

A silent confirmation washed over the two of you as your lips spread to mirror his grin. The two of you would be alright as the next part of your relationship bloomed, the embers of your crushes were now burning bright.